Page 26 of Xerxes Ascendant
He knelt.
“Hands on the floor.”
Kyle’s mistake was in over-thinking the order. Over-thinking was a Dom’s job: planning, preparing, analysing every possibility and risk to ensure his submissive was safe and satiated. In playing the role of the sub heshouldhave just obeyed, but in the time it took his head to come to that conclusion, frustration and doubt shadowed Tyler’s face.
As a result of Theta’s abusive mismanagement, the trainee was already close to believing he was useless. Although he just needed steady coaxing and encouragement to build his confidence back up, Kyle had just made it a hundred times worse by failing to engage.
The trainee choked. “I can’t-”
“Don’t take it to heart, Tyler. Kyle isterribleat gifting submission.”
Both men’s heads whipped towards the door. Akira was standing just inside it, having somehow entered the room without either of them noticing, and was now watching them with his arms crossed and head cocked. His brown eyes sparkled in delight as he watched Kyle struggle to yield.
“It was a clear and reasonable order, but unfortunately you’re dealing with the epitome of stubborn insolence here,” he continued, unfolding his arms and stalking closer with deadly grace. Kyle tried not to stare at how he moved but it was nearly impossible: sexy, elegant, and the way the fine, tailored suit clung to Akira’s body made his mouth water. He had to briefly shut his eyes when the Master began to roll up his shirtsleeves, because the sight of those long fingers efficiently folding backthe fabric in swift, familiar movements had him biting back a moan.
It was unfair how intoxicatingly desirable Akira could be even when he wasn’t putting on a performance, and a thousand credits per hour was a pitifully low rate for such perfection.
And then the Master snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor with a blistering look. Silence reigned for a long moment in a battle of wills between them, but while Akira had freely gone to his knees for Kyle in the past, his delightful submission was only one half of his switch self, and he also made a terrifyingly uncompromising Dominant. The threat was clear in his stern consternation.
When he got like this, Master Epsilon was fierce, unyielding, and utterly without mercy.
Swallowing back the retort he would have certainly offered his boss if Tyler had not been in the room, Kyle begrudgingly placed his palms on the floor. It rocked his body forward and down, forcibly lowering his head closer to the feet of the two men standing over him.
“Adequate,” Akira said cuttingly. “Although someone who has been whoring in this House for five years should know how to properlykneel,boy.”
Kyle bristled.
“You know, I’ve always found,” the Master added, the lighter tone indicating he was now talking to Tyler over Kyle’s head, “that the trick to handling difficult men like this one is to make sure that they are...”
The words faded to a breathy hiss. He must have been whispering the remainder of the sentence directly into Tyler’s ear.
Kyle, finding himself tensing, forced his muscles to relax. He was trained well enough in psychological sadism to know he was only being messed with, but it didn’t make it any easier to bearthe humiliation of kneeling at their feet while they spoke about him in murmurs too soft to hear.
When the pair eventually fell silent above him, Kyle lifted his chin in an instinctual fit of defiance, only for a hand to fall heavily on the back of his neck and keep it down. He didn’t need to see to know whose hand it was; while firm, the grip held none of Epsilon’s natural control and confidence. Kyle could have brushed it off with barely any effort at all.
He didn’t. He kept his head low and didn’t fight.
“When you or your scene partner are having difficulties with your roles, especially early in a dynamic with a new or once-off client, props can help to get you both into the right mindset,” Akira offered, now reverting to his familiar teaching voice. His polished black shoes moved out of Kyle’s limited vision.
Kyle’s heart lurched with a sudden pang of longing, and he was glad no one could see the misery on his face. It felt like it had five years ago when he had graduated from his own induction training and knew he’d no longer have the pleasure of the Master’s company like this; honoured with his thoughtful, measured teachings, his closeness, and holding the sole, brilliant focus of his attention.
Kyle shouldn’t want such things.
This was a job, and Akira was his employer. There was nothing more to be had, not when Akira had made it blatantly clear that he didn’t trust him. How could Kyle let himself fall so completely in love with a man who had held such large pieces of himself back?
“Kyle is probably going to have some choice words about this,” Akira commented from the opposite side of the room, and Kyle could almost hear the wry smile in the other man’s voice. “But put them on him anyway.”
Determined to prove him wrong justbecause,Kyle offered quiet compliance when Tyler eased the pressure on his neck andgave him a sharp order not to move, and again when he was buckled into a collar and cuffs. The soft leather rested snugly around his bare throat and wrists, but although they could be locked together with embedded clasps and rings, Kyle was left unsecured on his hands and knees while the Master offered Tyler further advice and…props.
“Take this as well,” Epsilon said. “You don’t have to hit him with it. Just hold it. Feel comfortable with it. Wave it around andtellhim you’re going to hit him with it.”
Was it a crop? A cane? A whip? It took all of Kyle’s willpower not to break position by looking, and he growled curses under his breath as his natural curiosity was constrained by nothing more than the smug tone of his Master’s voice.
…which the bastard was doing deliberately, of course. Kyle was being fucking played, and stars take Akira for knowing how to manipulate him so well. Mind-fuckery wasn’tnearlyas fun to play with when you were on the receiving end of it.
Kyle inhaled sharply, accidentally half-choking himself and turning it into a splutter. Both men were at his side in an instant, and he tried not to visibly react as Akira’s cool fingers slid down his neck and beneath the leather to test the tightness of his collar. His skin felt like it was burning where they touched: an indescribable, immeasurable searing intensity.
Tyler was crouched in front of him, his brows drawn low. “Sorry! Did I put it on you too tightly, Kyle?”
