actually, it's Chapter 2 pt. 1 because I got behind over the weekend and don't have any more proofread than this. The rest of Ch. 2 will be up either Wed. or Sat., depending on where I am with my WIP (work in progress), which I'd also like to share part of with you later in the week because I am totally loving the way it's shaping up! :D
The chastity device wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t the sort of thing Jason could just forget he was wearing either; amongst other things, there was no way he’d be able to get hard with the metal cup around his dick. Henry cautioned that it would probably hurt like hell if—when—his body tried to have an erection and that sleeping would be the worst, but no, he wouldn’t take it off just to go to bed. If Jason had any real problems they’d talk about it, and he’d let Jason out of it to take a shower, but otherwise, he was stuck for the next eight days—and he was miserable. Fifty strokes with the crop would have been easier to take than this!
For the last two hours, he’d been following behind Henry’s ugly green pickup, winding his way south and east on progressively smaller highways into the Appalachian foothills. Even before flat farmland gave way toward the “foothills” (really small mountains as far as Jason was concerned), Jason felt completely lost. The farthest he’d ever gone outside of Michigan had been a trip to Cedar Point with some friends, back before he moved in with his dad.
A stab of…something… lanced through his gut. He wasn’t sure if it was guilt or just unhappiness, but he wondered if his dad had gotten home yet, if he’d found the keys Jason left behind. If he wondered where Jason had gone. But why would he? When Jason first came to live with him, his father hadn’t even picked him up from the bus station. He hadn’t been home with Jason got there, either. He’d left word with a neighbor to be on the lookout for Jason, to let him in, to make sure he got dinner, to explain that Dad had gotten caught up in a meeting at work…
The bright red flash of Henry’s turn signal caught Jason’s attention; they were getting off the highway. They’d passed the signs for Athens and Ohio University as well as for Hocking Hills Community College a while back, leaving Jason to wonder exactly where they were headed. He figured they’d gotten there when there when he saw a row of small houses. A bank. A veterinary clinic. More houses lay beyond and for a second, Henry seemed to be leading the way through a quiet little neighborhood—but then the next turn put them back onto a two-lane highway, and in seconds they were passing through alternating stretches of farmland and forest.
Henry slowed for a couple of deer who were crossing the road. He slowed again when he seemed to realize that Jason wasn’t at all comfortable taking the snowy, hilly, twisted road at fifty miles an hour, even when another car came up behind him and practically rode on his bumper until the driver finally got fed up and passed them both.
Several miles later, Henry turned again, this time onto a dirt road that was even hillier, snowier, and curvier than the paved highway. Where in the hell were they going? For the next several miles, Henry led the way through dense forest on a road that was so narrow in some places Jason didn’t think two cars could actually pass each other. They had to stop twice more for deer crossing the road and once for some big ugly bird that Jason couldn’t identify.
Finally, the woods gave way to a stretch of farmland, and Henry again. At first Jason had thought it was another road, but then he realized it was a driveway because it dead ended in front of a small red brick house with familiar white cargo van parked out front. Behind the house rose a steep tree covered hill; next to it was a little stream with what looked like a garden on the other side of it. A wide wooden bridge spanned the water. But the place looked nothing like a Thomas Kinkade painting; the bridge appeared to have constructed piecemeal out of leftover scraps of wood from other projects, and while smoke did drift lazily out of the tiny house’s chimney, Jason couldn’t help thinking how bleak that made the house looked. The knots in his gut wound themselves tighter and tighter and he had to fight the urge to turn around and try to find his way back to civilization—but when Henry pulled in next to the van, Jason parked next to him and got out of his car and realized it had started to snow.
“Welcome to Chez Durand!” Henry announced with a broad smile as he hopped out of his truck.
Jason’s gut bottomed out—there wasn’t another house or any signs of human habitation anywhere in sight. Henry lived truly and completely in the middle of nowhere and suddenly all Jason could think about was The Story of O. He shivered.
“Come on, let’s get you in out of the cold,” Henry said, reaching for Jason’s duffle bag. Jason just stood there. It took Henry several moments to realize he wasn’t following and turn back around. He held out his hand. “I know it’s not much to look at on the outside,” he said apologetically.
“No…I…,” Jason closed his eyes. He took a breath. “I’m okay,” he lied as opened his eyes back up again and put his hand in Henry’s. It was either this or go back to Michigan, go sleep on Kendra’s couch. He didn’t want that. He wanted Henry. But that didn’t stop his legs from feeling like they were made from rubber bands as he followed Henry up the back steps and into the house.
Jason stopped dead in his tracks when he got inside.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but a cozy, very normal looking house decorated in warm shades of gold, olive green and brown wasn’t it. Where were the whips and chains? Where was the leather, the bondage gear?
“I’d offer you the ten cent tour, but it’s not even worth a nickel,” Henry joked.
Jason just nodded. It definitely wasn’t the kind of house he was in any danger of getting lost in, that was for sure. And okay, so maybe bondage gear wasn’t the first thing Henry wanted visitors to see, but he’d still expected something a little less…ordinary out of a guy who made his living selling collars and leather corsets. The house had an open floor plan; from the backdoor, Jason could see the small living room (there was a wraparound sofa in one corner, two leather chairs in another and a television on the far wall), a neat little kitchen and the dining area. A wide, curved staircase was the centerpiece of the main part of the house; it opened up into the kitchen, and from there led down into the basement. Two more steps into the house and Jason could see the short hall with three doors, two closed and one he couldn’t quite see into from where he was standing.
“My room’s the one to the right, across from the bathroom,” Henry explained. “My sister’s room is at the end of the hall. Everything else is pretty straightforward. There’s a family room downstairs as well as a laundry room. It sort of doubles as an office and guest room.” He shrugged. “My work room’s downstairs too. So’s the play room.”
Jason swallowed back the lump in his throat and nodded. Henry had said “mine” in reference to the bedroom. Maybe slaves didn’t get to sleep with their Masters. “So um….where do you want me to put my stuff, Sir?” Suddenly the word “Master” was as uncomfortable as it had been a few months ago.
Henry hesitated longer than Jason would have liked. He wanted Henry to say “put it in our room”, but he didn’t. “Just set it down in the bedroom and then come on back into the living room. I think there’s some things we need to talk about.”
“Yes, Sir.” At least Henry hadn’t told him to put in the office/laundry room/guest room. Maybe Jason was just overreacting.
Henry’s bedroom was as simple and unassuming as the rest of the house. No whips. No chains. Just a gorgeous four post bed…hello. Metal eyehooks were attached to those posts in fairly strategic locations. Tops of the posts. Bottoms of the posts. Middles of the posts. Headboard. Footboard. Shit. Henry could tie someone up to his bed in just about any position he wanted! Jason’s dick began to stiffen in response to mental images of him being that someone—and he immediately winced in pain when it hit against the hard metal. Jason took several deep breaths and tried to not to think about something else. Anything else. But he was still in pain when he came out of the bedroom to find Henry sitting in one of the big leather chairs in the living room. Henry looked so perfect sitting there. Even though he was just wearing jeans and a T-shirt, he looked like a Dom, a Master.
Jason swallowed hard as he stepped into the room. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Henry’s expression was impossible to read. “Care to elaborate?”
Jason took a step closer. “I don’t want to disappoint you, but I don’t think I can wear this thing for eight days, Sir.”