Updated: Apr 21
I'm not gonna say too much, just let you enjoy ;)
Even though this book is PWP for the most part ... there is a tiny plot and LOTS of little psychological landmines that exploring extremes like this gets me thinking about. If you read and you find one you wanna talk about drop in! I've been enjoying what people have to say about this book.
All right, without further ado!
COPYRIGHT BELONGS TO MOCK (Under her legal name of course) 2022
The office is larger than anything Lee’s ever seen. The walls are lined with books, there’s a large brown leather sofa in the center with small circular end tables and lamps. The desk is a giant rectangle with a tall black chair behind it.
That’s where the man, Ocean, sits. His dark black hair is a swoop with a swell high enough to surf on and it’s a bit ironic because of his name. His eyes are even as deep blue as tropical ocean waters and seem to shift to the dark blue of the midnight ocean, depending on how the light hits them. A thick set of brows frame their teardrop shape. He’s dressed professionally in a white button-down—the shirt open to the crest of his chest—and black slacks. The gold of his belt buckle glints as brightly as his smile.
Yet, there’s something about the man that sinks into Lee like ice. The air is thick with his presence. He’s got the countenance of a predator and he’s studying Lee in a way that’s inspiring him to run out the door he just entered.
Hasn’t even said a word yet and Lee’s sure he’s been here for a hundred years.
It’s fucking unnerving.
“I want it to be clear about why you’re here, Everleigh, and what you are,” he finally says.
Lee jumps. He’s not easily frightened and yet he’s startled by the man’s rough voice. His tongue is stuck when he tries to talk. Even without the pressure of this Ocean character, answering that question brings anxiety. He doesn’t want to be here. He can’t believe his life’s led to this moment. It doesn’t look like this guy’s gonna go easy on him.
And does he have to address him by his full name? It’s too feminine for him so he’s always gone by Lee. It suits his large frame and gruff face.
He’s in a court-appointed situation. He had the choice between this, a conservatorship, or one of the facilities. As suboptimal as this is, it seemed the better choice. With those, Lee heard, it’s torture. Worse than jail. Frankly, he would have chosen a conservatorship over jail too. With this, there’s a little hope he can have a decent life if he behaves. Now, he’s questioning his choice—of course, he’s waited till after the fact to do so. After he’s already signed off on everything. “I am here for a conservatorship. Um, guess I’m your ward?”
“You are mine,” he corrects, and a disparaging shiver runs through Lee. “Let’s go through your charges, shall we?”
Holy fuck this guy. No hello and welcome. He gets straight to the worst part. Lee huffs.
“Problem?” Ocean says one perfect brow arching
Lee’s not sure how he knows—self-preservation?—but answering is a bad idea. “No. No problem.”
Ocean frowns. “No, no, no. That’s not tolerated. When I ask you a question you answer honestly.”
Lee squirms, but he answers if just to get this moving along. “I was hoping to get to know you before all of this.”
“I’m sorry, are you in charge?”
“No, sir,” he corrects. “You will only address me as ‘sir’ unless I tell you otherwise.”
Kinda formal, but he does seem like a formal sort of guy. Not too weird. “Yes, sir.”
“Better. You are here because you can’t be trusted to adhere to societal conduct. It’s both punishment and so the court doesn’t have to worry about people like you. I don’t do this for niceties. I do this because I love bringing dogs like you to heel.” He lets that hang in the air. “This meeting is for showing you where your place is.”
Lee’s stomach takes a final dive into the abyss. He knows how up shit creek he is. The court-appointed lawyer was thorough. They don’t care to check on conservatorships, nor do they have the funding. The conservator can impose whatever rules they see fit. People don’t get out of conservatorships once they’re in one, but with the way the new judicial system works, people rarely get out of facilities anyway.
“Look at this,” he says, flipping through his file. “Countless acts of public indecency—mostly sexual, we’re going to have that checked. Violence. Unpaid traffic tickets … it says here you’re sexually active several times a day, sometimes multiple partners a day.”
Lee’s face heats. Having that information on there’s totally unfair. But as it was explained to him, even though they’re not transgressions, his personal information helps his conservator create a program for him. Still, Ocean doesn’t have to read it like he is. The shame presses heavily and he can’t look at Ocean anymore.
“Masturbating this many times a day is a problem, Everleigh. You’re going to be analyzed by my psychiatrist and my physician. You clearly have an undiagnosed sex addiction.”
He wants to argue because it’s going to be awful having to admit those things out loud to someone. Again. It’s not going to do him any good though, so he keeps his mouth shut.
“Your diet is outrageous. Do you want to die of a heart attack?”
Lee shakes his head. “No, sir.”
“Wow. You smashed your neighbor’s car with a nine iron? That’s an awful temper you have. It will be curbed.”
Lee winces, but only because of the rigid way Ocean is staring at him. He’d warned that neighbor over and over that if he couldn’t shut his car alarm off by the time Lee made it out there, he was gonna beat the shit out of it. “Yes, sir.” It was Joey’s nine iron. Lee doesn’t golf.
“And look at how many times you were unforgivably rude to people.”
That was also not included with his charges, but the person had stood over him until he listed a bunch of times he’d gotten angry in public due to his “violence issues”. It wasn’t fair because it makes him look worse than he is, but it was explained the questions were for the safety of the conservator and anyone who might be in their home. Besides, what I wrote down isn’t as bad as Ocean is making it sound.
“This is an extensive list, but not to worry. I’ve prepared for you like I do all my boys. You’ll fall in line just as quickly as they did.”
“Boys, sir? I’m twenty-nine.”
“I know how old you are, but you’ll go by anything I call you. It’s the same for my other boys—they range from twenty-five to mid-thirties. I don’t take on anyone younger than twenty-five. You won’t be spending a lot of time with them until I know you won’t be a bad influence.”
Lee wants to know how he’ll avoid other house members, but because he’s sure he’ll find out, he leaves it.
“All right. Remove your jeans—you won’t be needing those—and stand on the ‘X’.”
Lee hadn’t noticed it. There is indeed a black “X” in the middle of the floor. He removes his jeans quickly and makes his way to the “X” in his grey boxers and green Henley. Ocean slides from his chair, standing to full height. He’s about as tall as Lee, maybe an inch more, but he might as well be several feet taller for how small Lee feels. He circles Lee, his eyes penetrating. Without warning, he slides his fingers across Lee’s abdomen.
Lee inhales a sharp breath. He’s not surprised when his hand slips lower, investigating his ass and even cupping his balls. His dick hardens. God. It’s so humiliating that of course his dick likes it. Ocean checks him over like he’s a new racehorse purchase. “Shirt off.”
Lee hurries to comply, sensing the urgency. He can tell Ocean isn’t the kind that likes to be kept waiting. When his shirt is off, Ocean repeats the process over his naked skin. A single finger slips under the waistband of his boxers. “Off.”
You’d think with all his indecency charges and nights of sex, he wouldn’t get shy. This is different. He freezes. “Please.”
Ocean grips his nutsack until it throbs. “I don’t like punishing my boys, Everleigh. I’m not that kind of sadist. However, I believe in immediate obedience. If I have to punish you, no matter the reason, it will be severe and swift so that I don’t have to do it again for a long time.”
Ocean doesn’t bother asking him again and yanks his boxers down so fast it takes Lee’s breath away. Lee steps out of them naked as the day he was born. “That’s what your problem is,” Ocean says, looking meaningfully at Lee’s cock. “It’s too big. Too much testosterone running through you. When you’re trained, things will be different. Get over to that wall, hands flat against it.”
Lee does as he’s told.
Also, without warning, Ocean lays down heavy smacks on his bare ass. “Stay still. I had hoped I wouldn’t have to do this today,” Ocean says, continuing with what Lee’s sure is as much force as he can. “But it’s better we set the standard from the beginning. When I tell you to do something, you do it. I don’t want questions or protests. I want immediate compliance.”
Ocean is wailing on him so hard, Lee’s worried. He doesn’t know if he can stay in position, but he’s scared to move. “I’m s-s-sorry. Please. I’m so sorry.”
“Bet you’re going to be a good boy after this, huh?”
“Yes. Yes, sir,” he cries. He’s actually fucking tearing up. This is the worst spanking he’s ever had and that includes the time he and Joey were caught stealing and then writing-off Dad’s car when they were teenagers. Lee wants—desperately—to move, to wiggle, to maybe have a small break. Ocean is relentless. He never changes his cadence. The smacks are loud. They sting. All Lee can do is scream.
“Ahhh! Ahhh! Please, God, please.” His cries turn to sobs—Ocean isn’t stopping. His begging is more insistent. Snot leaks. Tears drop into his mouth. He doesn’t dare take his hands off the wall. Or move. He hates that Ocean is seeing him like this. Naked. Vulnerable. Screaming, sobbing, snorting back snot. “Pll-eee-eee-ease. I’m sor-or-ry.”
He’s stuttering. Hiccupping. Ocean doesn’t fucking stop.
Worry pools in his gut. What if he never stops? No. Ocean has other things to do. He’ll stop eventually, but he could do this for hours. His ass might fall off by then.
That’s the point Ocean finally stops; when Lee is sure his ass is about to fall off. Lee rests his head on his hands—still on the wall—and cries. It’s a heartbroken cry as hopelessness grips his insides. He’s feeling sorry for himself. And yeah, he’s going to be quick to obedience after that. He hears a snap from behind him, but he doesn’t bother to look, in too much pain. Then there’s something cold at his entrance. He still doesn’t move.
“You’ve got numerous drug and being drunk in public charges. I’m going to perform a quick cavity search to make sure you haven’t brought anything into the house.”
“Yes, sir,” Lee whines, nodding into his hands. He knows he’s clean and a cavity search is nothing new for him.
Ocean is clinical, but it still turns him on when that long finger sinks into his hole. He probes around and Lee’s body reaches toward it without his say so. Dammit. Maybe he does have a sex addiction. Ocean pulls out and the emptiness is real. The pain in his ass cheeks rushes back. His chest still heaves with racking sobs. That was fucking intense.
“Okay, stand up. Back to the X.”
Lee rushes to obey this time, standing with military precision. Ocean performs a more thorough inspection of his cock. Jacking it a little. Feeling it out. Rubbing his thumb over the leaking head, his hand still gloved.
Finally, he removes the glove and replaces it with a clean one. “Open,” he says.
Ocean runs his fingers along the grooves of Lee’s teeth. He’s near to gagging, but he forces himself to breathe instead, to get through this. It’s miserable with his ass on fire, naked while Ocean is fully clothed and his cock so hard it’s aching. The delicate fingers—which are fucking imposters considering they’ve probably left imprints on his ass—glide over Lee’s molars and even the roof of his mouth. He does this several times. An ache beats across his jaw. Drool forms at the corners of his lips, but he doesn’t dare move.
Finally, finally, Ocean pulls his fingers out. Lee’s jaw is relieved. “All right, now we’ll go over some of the rules.”
Lee’s lived a rough life. He doesn’t scare easily so it says something that already he’s trembling in Ocean’s presence. Though it’s directly linked to knowing there’s no way out and that his life is literally in Ocean’s hands now. No one will save him. There is no legal way to get him out of this. He can’t even run—he was microchipped at the center before he was dropped on Ocean’s doorstep.
He’s stuck with Ocean. His only option is to obey so he doesn’t piss Ocean off and if he succeeds in that, maybe he can carve out a decent existence here.
Lee would like—more than anything—to cover his junk, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that’s a no-no. Instead, he stands rigid, looking straight ahead, barely breathing. Him naked and Ocean fully clothed is a statement. He’s showing Lee just where his place is.
“You understand what kind of conservatee you are?”
Lee swallows, nodding. “I do, sir.”
That was part of it. When choosing this or the facility—which is basically just “jail” created for people like him—it was understood that he would be having sex with whomever his conservator decided he would. That’s how he would pay his conservator for his room and board and the hardship of taking him in. Being a conservator is a lot of work—or so Lee has been told.
“Lucky for you I agreed to take you in because I would like my own personal sex doll. I don’t like relationships—they’re too much work. I don’t like renting a service—too risky. Sure, they say they’re tested, but who knows if that’s true? I sometimes use my other conservtees, but I prefer to save them for renting out. You’ll be mine. Just for me. You can be trained to my personal tastes.”
At least Ocean is criminally good looking. He appears to have good hygiene too. It could have been so much worse. Lee quickly wipes the tear away. He doesn’t care about the sex—that might be the one perk—but more and more it sinks in that his freedom is gone forever, and Ocean owns him.
“Oooh. This isn’t fun, is it?” Ocean is patronizing. There isn’t a shred of sympathy in his tone. “That’s what happens to people like you who behave badly. I don’t feel sorry for you. It only makes my dick hard.”
Lee’s dick is hard too, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Lee gets a hard-on if the wind blows the wrong way. Being humiliated is one of his biggest turn-ons. That’s another plus, Lee. Maybe the more he tells himself that, he’ll come to believe it.
Ocean opens the slender top drawer of his desk and comes up with a black leather collar. “Put this on.”
Lee is quick to obey, hoping maybe he can get on the man’s good side if he has one. He buckles the thick collar around his neck. It’s soft leather. He wouldn’t call it comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. A mild annoyance, maybe.
“As I was saying, you’re lucky because I don’t see myself sharing you often.” Lee’s sure he’ll be paying for that “luxury” too. “You will be compensated generously as are all my conservatees, and the money will be held in a trust for you, spent at my discretion. Most of your wage will pay for keeping you and I believe in being well kept so a large portion will cover the high cost of living here with my good food and high-thread-count bedsheets.”
He’ll be a luxury whore then.
“I do allow outings, but you won’t be getting any for a while so don’t ask. I’ll let you know when you can. I don’t allow calls out or in for the first while either. Once you’re used to things, we’ll discuss how that works. Do you understand so far?”
Lee’s getting fucking cold. Will this be over soon? He’d like to curl up under the high-thread-count bedsheets he’ll be paying with his body for. “I understand, sir.” His ass is still throbbing too—will he be allowed a hot bath?
“That collar doesn’t come off except for when you shower or bathe. I will find out and you will be severely punished for that infraction.”
Lee doesn’t doubt there are cameras everywhere in a place like this. Ocean is definitely the paranoid type. “Yes, sir.”
Ocean moves around him, letting his smooth fingers glide over Lee’s skin. “Your body is mine now. Every part of it. You won’t modify a thing on it unless I permit it—that includes shaving. I want you to keep your face bare for now. As for the rest of you, you’ll be waxed as I see fit.
Ocean keeps staring, keeps taking stock of his new toy. “I don’t like broken toys. You’ll take good care of my property. That includes what you eat and how much you exercise. Any damage will be seen as direct disobedience.”
That’s gotta be good right? He won’t be starved or anything. Lee worked out every day anyway. Hopefully, this means he’ll get to carry on with his routine. This place has got to have a state-of-the-art gym. “Yes, sir.”
“I allow the others to intermingle sexually, but you are off limits to everyone unless I say otherwise.” Ocean’s eyes light with dark fire.
Ocean stares at Lee as if he’s having too many thoughts about him at once. If only Lee could be privy to those thoughts. “God you’re fucking delectable and all mine. You’re going to spend a lot of time with my dick up your ass.”
A tingle works its way from Lee’s groin to the back of his neck. He only just bites back the moan.
Ocean smiles in a leery way. “Like that do you? Like the thought of my dick in your ass?”
Lee doesn’t want to—despite that it will make life here easier—but he does. “Yes, sir.”
“Of course, you do. Your file suggested you’d be a good whore for me.”
A pearl of come leaks from Lee’s slit. Ocean grips his shaft firmly and smoothens the pearly liquid over the head with his thumb. Lee hisses and only just keeps from moving. Then he’s released.
“Outside the door, Braiden is waiting to take you to your room. He’s been instructed on what to do for you. You won’t get clothes until you get to your room. I think it’s important that each conservatee makes the walk from my office to his room naked the first time for two reasons, but after that, I think I would like you to maintain a conservative dress code unless I say otherwise.”
“I hope you’ll experience the shame of your nudity—that’s reason one—knowing that everyone will know you’re here because you’ve been a bad boy.”
Lee flushes head to toe. Mission accomplished on that one and he hasn’t even left the room yet.
“The second reason is so that you’ll know your place. You get clothes because I say you do and not a moment before. You’ll learn to be grateful for every privilege you earn here.”
Fuck, Ocean has the evil villain thing down. Lee doesn’t generally care about nudity, he’s an exhibitionist with sex stuff, but with those two things attached—shame and indignity—yeah, that’s enough to make him hate his life. Everleigh bites his lip. He won’t cry. He won’t fucking cry in front of asshole Ocean.
“You are dismissed. When I dismiss you, you say ‘thank you, sir’ since I’ve bothered to take the time to bother with you at all.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He races to the door unable to get out from under Ocean’s gaze fast enough.
Outside is a lean man with bouncy black curls. He’s got a silver ring through his bottom lip. He’s wearing normal clothes—jeans and a t-shirt—but for some reason, Lee expected a get-up similar to what you’d see in a harem; gauzy pants and crop tops. This whole place has a very harem vibe.
“I’m going to take you to your room, Everleigh. Follow me.”
Lee follows behind Braiden. They don’t encounter anyone, but everything Ocean hoped he would feel is still there. Because his feelings and outlook have nothing to do with other people. Only how Lee feels about himself. He’s a nobody here. An absolute nothing. Ocean made that very clear. He’s here because he did bad things and he’s to feel shame for them.
He knew that was the aim of coming into a place like this, he didn’t fathom how good Ocean would be at it. Now all he wants to do is prove how “good” he is. Like, so what, he’s just cancelled for a few acts that society considers “bad”? He can’t make mistakes? He can’t have a different opinion? It all seems so unfair.
“What’s with the uh … the ring thing, I guess?”
Questions. That’ll distract Lee from his nakedness. He’ll act like he’s not bothered by it at all.
“It’s a mark of status. There are gold, silver, and copper.”
Lee didn’t get one. Does that mean he’s the lowest of the low? “Status, eh? What do you earn with a silver ring over a copper?”
Braiden smiles. It’s laced with a smirk. “Marginally better food and lodgings. It’s mostly a matter of whore status,” he explains as they twist through the halls. Lee should probably pay attention—this place is massive—but he’s enthralled now by this idea of rings. “It determines a few things. The first is how often we can be rented out and our price. For the copper, it’s seven days a week, but they are paid the lowest.”
Using the terms rented out and getting paid in the same conversation is absurd, but Braiden is likely too conditioned to recognize the difference. Unless there’s some horrible truth to it, which Lee shudders at the thought of.
“Silver—that’s what I am—we are paid more than copper though not as much as gold and can only be rented out five days a week. For gold, it’s three.”
Lee touches his bare bottom lip. “I don’t have anything.” Not that he wants a permanent reminder of his whore status, but he’s worried about what nothing means. With what Ocean told him about his duties here, none of what Braiden explained seems to fit.
“There are a few other rules for each category—gold, silver, or copper—but that’s the main reason for the rings.”
“I didn’t get one,” he says again, voicing his worry out loud. Yeah, he’s fucking worried that he didn’t get marked with a ring.
“You will. Soon enough, you’ll be one of us.” Braiden stops in front of a large set of double doors. “These rooms will be yours. You won’t be staying in any of the conservatee wings. There are clothes on the bed for you. Someone will be up with food and drinks later. The door won’t be locked, but I’m supposed to tell you you’re not allowed to leave for any reason.”
Right. Ocean doesn’t trust a vagabond like him to be near his other “boys”. “I’ll stay put,” he says. Lee opens the door and hovers near it. “Any words of advice?”
Braiden looks around. “Submit now. No one’s coming for you. Obey and you might carve out a reasonable existence.”
Lee’s sorry he asked. “Thanks, Braiden. Will I see you around?”
Braiden looks past him and into the open door not bothering to hide his curiosity. Isn’t this standard protocol? “Probably not.”
Well then. Lee enters his set of rooms and shuts the door behind him.
“Rooms” was a bit of an understatement. This place is larger than his one-bedroom apartment. Is this how whores get paid? Because sign Lee up. Then he remembers he has to pay for all this shit—God, how many times is he gonna have to get dicked down by Ocean to afford to live in this place?
There’s a bedroom that’s separate from what Lee would call the living room. There’s even a mini-kitchen—like what you’d see in those fancy hotel rooms. Not worried about clothes for the moment, he investigates, marveling at his new living space. Joined to his new and massive bedroom is a bathroom, complete with a jacuzzi tub. Yeah, he is so using that right now. Maybe it’ll wash away how dirty he feels after Ocean’s prodding.
He runs the bath and when he spies the pretty and expensive-looking bath salts, he tosses those in too. Ocean is probably gonna run a tab for him, taking inventory of everything he uses so he can pay, but Lee chalks up some bath salts to the cost of a dick suck or something. That’s fine. Whatever. Ocean is such an asshole.
Once Lee’s wrapped under a blanket of hot water and lavender scent, he doesn’t give a fuck about Ocean or lip rings or the death of his freedom. Braiden’s advice—while depressing—was apt. Lee needs to find a way to forge a reasonable existence within the confines of his new reality. Killer digs and sweet-smelling bath salts make this whole thing a lot easier to swallow. He’s heard some horror stories. He could have had a “master” that kept him chained naked in the backyard.
And yet, even being chained naked in the backyard is better than what he’s heard can happen in the facilities. Ugh. Lee shudders. Naw, he totally lucked out getting sent to this luxurious mansion, even with douchebag Ocean.
It’s a far leap from the run-down, silverfish-infested apartment building he used to live in. His job at the supermarket barely paid for rent. He had to get a second job, moonlighting as a bartender, to make ends meet.
Once he’s out of the bath, he wraps a fluffy white towel around his hips and hunts for the shaving supplies. He might as well make a good second impression and so he sets to work ridding himself of the five o’clock shadow that plagues his face.
“Ow, fuck.” Blood seeps out of the tiny wound and Lee rips off a square of two-ply toilet paper to halt the bleeding.
When he’s done, he slaps on some lotion and aftershave, feeling confident about how his shaven face looks.
On the bed, he’s surprised to see a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. He expected something really fucked up—like severely fucked up—but it’s so normal that it has him more on edge than if he’d been given some weird-ass get-up. It’s incongruous with what he’s read of Ocean. It doesn’t make sense.
There’s going to be a fucking catch.
He tries not to think about that for now. His rooms have a TV. There are drinks and snacks in the fridge. All “healthy” shit, but it looks to be of good quality. He’s never getting a burger and fries again, is he?
Focusing on what he does have, rather than what he’s probably not going to have, Lee dresses and settles in with some TV, a bottle of Kombucha, and a bag of Skinny Pop.
A knock on his door jolts him out of his TV-induced coma. A man appears with a cart filled with food that smells divine. He’s got a copper ring through his bottom lip. Suddenly Lee doesn’t care about food. “You work here too?” he blurts out.
Yeah. It’s not the way to make friends, but Lee’s out of his element. This place is terrifying despite the nice wrapper it comes in.
“I’m Six by the way,” he says, pushing his way in and toward the dining area. “And yes, I work here too.”
Lee wants to know if that means Six doesn’t have to make his money having sex since he’s got this job, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t look friendly.
Six sets to work, arranging plate after plate of food on the table. Six is a thin man. Not bad looking, but Lee would have to say he’s average in the looks department. Is that why he’s a copper? He tries to recall how attractive Braiden was—something he wasn’t thinking about at the time—and yeah, Braiden was more attractive than Six, but it’s hard to make a conclusion based on two individuals. Instead, he files the data away as a possibility. For all Lee knows, the ring hierarchy thing could be due to their transgressions and their discrepancy in looks is meaningless.
“Sorry, man. First day. I’m a little nervous.”
“Get used to it. The nerves don’t go away, you only get used to living with them.”
Six doesn’t have the same level of calm Braiden had. Braiden had what Lee would call a realistic outlook, but he seemed resigned and content. Six’s resigned all right, but there’s an undercurrent of anger.
Or maybe Lee just pissed him off. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The spread looks good. Once again, it’s all healthy shit—baked chicken, vegetables, rice—but it looks like it’ll taste delicious. There’s even something that looks like a dessert, but Lee’s not fooled. Joey’s made him many a health-inspired flourless cake. That might look like dessert, but there’s something healthy about it.
Even the salad looks good, and Lee generally doesn’t like salad. It’s got some kind of pears and walnuts on top. There’s cheese—not a lot, but enough crumbled onto the salad it’ll probably end up as the perfect flavor combo.
Okay, this food ain’t cheap. How many dicking downs is this worth? Maybe he shouldn’t have splurged on the bath salts.
“Master Radley said to relay that you’re to eat everything, but you may save the dessert for later if you get full.”
Lee nods. It rankles to be told he has to, but he can eat all of this and more.
“Place your empty plates on this cart when you’re finished and push it outside. Someone will come to take it for you.”
God. It’s like he’s a prince or something. It only makes him more nervous. “Will do.”
The meal is as good as it smells. Even the dessert, which is definitely made with avocado, is fucking good. He eats. He pushes the cart into the hallway. Then he kicks it on the plush sofa where his ass isn’t quite so bothered as it was in the harder chairs at his—he can call it his, right?—dining table.
The next time the door opens, it just opens. No knock, which he thinks is fucking rude until he turns to see it’s Ocean standing there dark and menacing. Guess Ocean is gonna do whatever he wants. He owns Lee. Fuck, does he have to tremble before the guy? Should he stand? Stay seated? Move to the damn “X” he saw on the carpet?
Thank God Ocean directs him. He snaps pointing to the spot before him, which is not the “X”. Lee’s quick to comply. Cold blue eyes rake over Lee. When they darken, it’s like a rock dropping to the bottom of Lee’s stomach. What has he done?
“What’s that on your face?” Ocean says.
On his face? Lee feels around his face with a panicked hand. It hits the place where he nicked himself shaving. He chuckles. “Shaving accident.”
Without warning, Ocean’s hand slides under Lee’s chin, gripping his entire jaw in the palm. Then he’s dragged, and he has no choice but to follow or attempt to tug away from Ocean, which he’s not doing for anything with him this furious. Lee suspects that if he tried, he’d pull a neck muscle because Ocean is way fucking stronger than you’d expect from looking at him. He allows himself to be dragged to his ensuite bath where there’s a mirror that stretches across the length of the room over the counter.
Ocean yanks him so he’s over the counter, his face turned toward the mirror. His heart’s beating so damn fast. “Whose face is this?”
“Y-Yours. It’s your face.” Lee knows that much. Ocean made it clear.
Ocean’s fingers press harder. Guess it’s okay for him to put marks on his property. “Were you careless?”
“N-No, sir. It was an accident. Promise.”
Ocean releases his face. “Stay.” His fingers move from his jaw to the waistband of his sweats, and they’re yanked down to his ankles. “Have you taken care of this yet?”
Hot bath. A hot bath. Lee remembers he took a hot bath, thank fuck. “I soaked in the bath salts, sir.”
“Not good enough. This requires aloe. You need to do better.”
Lee’s heart rate kicks up another notch when Ocean’s belt jangles open. There’s no warning for that either. Ocean lays in with stripe after stripe of hot fury. There’s no other word for it—it’s just a beating. Ocean is relentless. Lee can’t escape it—without riling him further—there’s only taking it. The pain slices through him white hot. It’s not a slow breaking, it’s a fast one. He’s over the edge of unbearable. There’s no stoicism. He screams freely. The pain is so bad, he’s crying. He’s not sure when the last time he cried so much in one day was. Breathing is in the form of racking sobs. Whatever he can pull in before the next stripe comes. There’s snot and tears and desperation.
When will it stop?
But it doesn’t.
It’s whack after whack, whistling through the air. Lee begs. He’s not stupid enough to beg Ocean—Ocean hasn’t a shred of mercy—he begs to God if there is one. That might be just as stupid. Is there even a God? If so, God’s not coming for him tonight.
It ends. Lee’s legs are a trembling mess. He’s a trembling mess. It’s even worse that Ocean gets to see him like this, vulnerable and beaten.
Lee flinches at the gentle fingers running over the base of his spine. He’s still crying. Why can’t he stop crying? He hides his face. “I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry,” he mumbles between sniffles into his forearm.
“I know you are,” Ocean says. “But that doesn’t excuse it. You’re going to be extra careful. I want it to always be on your mind. Who might accidently graze you during the day? Leave a cut maybe? What if you fall and bruise something? All of that will be happening to my toy. You will suffer every consequence accident or not. I suggest you exercise more caution.”
What’s he supposed to say to that? “Yes, s-s-sir.” Because that’s what Ocean expects.
“I want you to be proactive. Think, what more could you do to take better care of my property? Like fucking aloe, Everleigh. I’ve made sure your cabinets are stocked with it.”
“Uh-huh. A-Aloe. G-Got it.” He works to calm his breathing and quiet the pain in his ass, but there is no quieting the persistent ache.
“Spread,” Ocean says, tapping Lee’s thighs. He has no fight in him. He spreads his legs. Ocean slips two fingers along his crease, dipping them in to play with this hole before sliding in just to the knuckle. His gentle motions are a sharp contrast to the violence. Not that Lee is fooled, it’s just jarring, and it feels fucking good. “Yeah, that’s better. You’re going to be a well-behaved boy, aren’t you?”
“Good.” He removes his fingers abruptly. “Get up. Pants up. I want you standing on the ‘X’ in the living room.”
Damn it. He knew that “X” was gonna get used. But worse than that are his legs that almost give out when he tries to stand, wobbling like Jell-O. He grips the counter, remembering what Ocean said about any accidents he might have, and hisses through his teeth as he gingerly pulls his sweats over his bruised ass.
He limps his way to the “X”, and does he stand? Not really, but he tries. The tears haven’t stopped, but his breathing’s evened out with only a little hiccup now and then.
“You’re not off to a very good start, are you?” Ocean says. It’s almost a coo.
“No, sir,” Lee says, wiping at his eyes. God, fuck. Stop fucking crying. “I’ll do better.”
“You will. Your ass isn’t going to have any skin left. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll move to your thighs. We’ll see how much you piss me off.”
Lee can’t even contemplate another beating. As is, he wants to collapse.
“Tomorrow, you have a busy day,” Ocean says. His fingers find their way to Lee’s bottom lip. Will he get a piercing tomorrow like the others? Probably. He’s dying to know which metal he’ll get. “Your days are scheduled, and each day will begin with a workout. You’ll be up by seven am and ready to go with the person who comes to retrieve you by eight.”
Lee sniffles again. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll permit you the pain and destruction of your workouts because I know they’ll lead to good things but be careful otherwise. Your trainer will push you but has been instructed to do so safely. So long as you obey him, you’ll be fine.”
Lee has a trainer?
“It’s a shame I had to punish you. I didn’t want to have to do that.”
“May I serve you, sir?” Lee’s desperate to get on his good side if he has one. If he has to suck his dick to do it, so be it. It’s just dick sucking, and Ocean probably has a nice dick anyway—one wrapped in gold and flavored like candy canes.
“I don’t think so. Learn to take care of yourself and then maybe. Sucking my dick is a reward.”
Lee should be happy about that, but he isn’t. This is so fucked up and it’s only the first day. Ocean has him dying to do what he should be disgusted by. Lee nods.
Ocean analyzes him with an odd stare and it’s the first time since they met it’s not with anger or distaste. “When I leave, you’ll take care of yourself as needed and then get to bed. You have a bedtime I expect you to stick to. I really don’t want to have to punish you for missing sleep.”
Lee shakes his head, unable to speak anymore. He doesn’t want to be punished for that either. Or anything ever again. Bed is about all he wants to do right now anyway. That and somehow win Ocean over.
Ocean caresses his cheek. “I want to hear good things about you tomorrow. I’m too busy to be there for most of it, but I would like to have dinner with you.”
Lee closes his eyes and opens them again. It’s not fair for cruel Ocean to touch him like this. It fucks with his head. It makes him think that maybe, maybe if he obeys Ocean to the letter, Ocean could like him. If Ocean likes Lee, maybe he won’t be so cruel. He said he wants to have dinner with him, Lee shouldn’t be so happy about that.
Tears are still streaming down his face when Ocean leaves. He’s never cried like this before. It takes him a few minutes to realize he’s alone. Everything in him wants to crumble there on top of the “X” on the carpeted floor. But there’s no guarantee Ocean won’t return.
He drags himself off to the bathroom, rifling through the cupboards, looking for every potion and lotion he could use to take care of his ass. When he checks the damage, it’s bad. So, fucking bad. Is calling for ice a thing he can do? He might need it. He’s purpling. The fridge. Gotta be ice packs in the fridge.
He races out to his mini-kitchen and sure enough, ice packs are in the freezer section. Gathering that and his items from the bathroom, he lays everything on the bed. He even pops a couple of Advil and brushes his teeth. He’ll ice in bed. Then aloe and lotion and some of that arnica salve he picked up from the drawers. That should do it, right? Fuck. There’s no way of knowing. He doubts he gets points for trying.
He's never taken care of himself like this before. He was raised by a gruff dad with blue-collar hands that had never met a jar of lotion. They were hands that often handled him roughly and even when they were gentle, their sandpaper exterior scratched his skin. They were forever stained with car grease in the creases of his knuckles.
Huh. Dad. Dad was never easy on Lee, but he misses the old codger anyway. He drank more than he fathered. The depression he fell into when Mom died stole him from them. He still taught Lee how to play pool, how to hustle while playing pool, and how to swing a wicked left hook.
When his ass-care routine is done, he’s looking forward to sleep, but once the lights are out, it hits him how alone he is. This is his home now. Ocean is his new reality and nightmare. This nice place he’s living in might cost him more than his freedom.
Eventually, his heavy-lidded eyes flicker closed and he’s grateful, but mostly because it’s one less thing for Ocean to beat him for in the morning.
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Make sure you check out the tagging information as this book contains dark themes and is just all around wild and "bad".