Page 130 of Xerxes Ascendant
“You’re being mean,” he half-heartedly accused.
Akira’s mouth curved in amusement, and he didn’t respond.
Kyle glowered. “I can be mean too.”
“I’m sure you can, Sir,” his sub said obligingly. His tone was dry, dismissive, and entirely disagreeable.
Kyle clicked his tongue. “Right,” he declared. “You’ve got a date at the end of the night with me and that punishment you’re clearly angling for.”
At Akira’s hopeful look, he chuckled, relishing the subsequent dismay that wrought. “Nothing you’ll like. Unless you’ve changed your mind about enjoying electricity?”
The Master dropped his gaze. “No, Sir,” he said quietly to the floor, with all the grace and intoxicating thrill of such a powerful man willingly gifting his submission.
“Good. Prep yourself with a plug.”
Without waiting for a response, Kyle wandered out of their bedroom and down to the staffroom, rinsing out his mug and leaving it to dry on the rack. The pair of them spent a couple of nights a week at Akira’s proper home up on Level B, which Kyle thoroughly enjoyed except for the terrifying occasions on which Robby had asked for his help with her incomprehensibly hard homework, but the work commute to House Epsilon was much less arduous when they slept the day away in its thirteenth bedroom.
Misha launched himself onto Kyle from behind.
“Piggyback!” the twink demanded, metal bangles unapologetically smacking Kyle in the chin as he threw his arms around his neck to hold on. “I’m wearing my new heels today and my feet ache like you won’tbelieve.”
Kyle just shook his head. Lecturing his friend on appropriate footwear for walking to and from work had never had any impact in the past, other than encouraging the bratty Dom to stubbornly double down. Kyle would have to get the fucking things away from him before he broke an ankle.
“Miiish,” he sang, grinning as an idea struck. “Wanna put on a show?”
“Of course,” Misha responded immediately, and swooped his head around to plant a wet, messy kiss on Kyle’s cheek. “What do you have in mind?”
Kyle told him. Mish whooped, slid down from his back, and rushed off...not to practice, but to corral their oblivious audience. As the staff of House Epsilon began to gather in the staffroom, looking mildly bemused and still wet from their showers – apparently Misha’s demand for their immediate attendance had not permitted time to even dry off – Akira appeared wordlessly at Kyle’s side.
Kyle snuck a sideways glance at him. Elegant and poised as always, fingers clasped lightly behind his back as he returned short greetings to his staff in that reserved way of his, no one would suspect that Master Epsilon’s ass was stuffed full on Kyle’s demand.
Hmm. From the way he still moved so enticingly silkily, it wasn’t full enough.
“The larger plug, pet,” Kyle murmured to him out of the corner of his mouth.
He sensed Akira stiffen. “You don’t know which one I’m-”
“The larger one.”
Even though his tone was uncompromising, he didn’t dare look at his submissive, for Kyle knew better than to risk being caught in the trap of those big, soulful brown eyes. The soft whine was bad enough, and he refused to be persuaded into leniency by his master manipulator of a boyfriend. Kyle’s whole body would turn to soppy, cuddly mush if he allowed himself to cave, and then where would they be?
With no one to put Akira in his place, that was where, and that would make for one sulky employer. For someone so determinedly independent, Akira craved submission as much as he did morning hugs and gentle kisses, and Kyle was not going to repeat his mistake from a few nights ago when he’d offered Akira a night off from their dynamic. Stars, the man had become so restless and moody by the time dawn arrived that he’d pissed off half the staff and sent a client fleeing in wordless terror.
Kyle himself hadn’t been much better, and the hard flogging he’d inflicted on his man afterwards had been welcome relief for both of them.
The incident had forced them to acknowledge that they were hopelessly addicted to each other, and that Mishamayhave been right in his declaration of ‘co-dependency to the extreme, because the pair of you never do anything by halves.’ Even if Kyle’s control over Akira’s body was something small, such as having him avert his eyes whenever they passed in the corridors, or venture outside the Master’s comfort zone by making him ask someone how their night was going –unequivocal torture, his submissive had proclaimed with abject distaste – it gave them both much-needed reassurance of their importance in each other’s lives.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Akira said now in a low voice to the staff members gathered around them, smoothly extricating himself from Kyle’s side and the bustle of the growing crowd. “I have business I need to attend to.”
No one blinked an eye at that. Master Epsilon doing Master Epsilon things, House business and such shit.
Only he and his Sir knew that business involved putting himself in greater discomfort for their shared pleasure.
Kyle was beginning to understand the appeal of engaging in play outside of a scene. The game of it all – exercising their dynamic in public while trying to remain unobserved, yet within a House full of men who wouldn’t take offence if they weren’t as secretive as they’d hoped – was exceptionally thrilling.
These days, it felt like Kyle lived in a state of being permanently turned on and walking on fucking sunshine. How could he not be, with that exceptional, clever man at his side, his sharp mind and sharper tongue delivering excitement and affection every day Kyle was lucky enough to call Akira his?
Date of appointment:2 May 2073
