Rain Falls Ch. 03

I slept most of the afternoon but not well. I kept having dreams about being chased by wild animals and torn asunder. It had been a reoccurring theme in my nightmares as long as I could remember. I dressed for play as opposed to work. I was supposed to be meeting Eric and, based on our earlier conversation, he wasn't going to let me work. I left the house at seven. It would take me less than two hours to walk downtown but I needed to eat. I took my time and poked around but still made it to the café by nine.

It was dead but it was early on a weeknight. I got a cup of coffee and waited. I was still upset about Vy but I hadn't been able to come up with anything that I could do about it. I felt guilty. I had broken my own rule about sleeping with people and Vy had gotten hurt. I should have been home. I didn't know if I could have protected her or not. Her boyfriend, Michael, was a big guy and he was mean as shit but I could have tried. There hadn't been enough blood in the apartment for me to automatically assume that she was dead so I was hoping that meant that she and the baby were both fine. I was also kind of hoping that the blood was Michael's.

My breath caught in my throat when Eric walked in. He was always imposing but he was also hot as fuck. He garnered a lot of attention and most of it was from people that wanted him. I couldn't suppress the secret little smile that I got knowing that he was mine. He was back in his leather pants and boots but he'd changed shirts and added a belt. The belt was a wide, black leather, bondage belt that rode low on his hips. His belt had a single chain that draped around his body like garland and four O-rings. The rings weren't situated on his sides, back and front. They weren't intended to secure him. They rested slightly at the front and the back of his hips. They were intended to secure something, or someone, to him. In fact, as he walked by me toward the counter, completely ignoring my presence, I noticed that he had short cane hooked to his belt. A frisson of desire, mixed with not a little fear, crept up my spine. He'd warned me that there would be no argument this night and he'd meant it.

He continued to ignore me after he got his coffee and he mounted the stairs. I watched him leisurely stroll up the stairs from my place at the table waiting for a word, a sign, something. I got nothing. I lost sight of him when he reached the balcony. I waited to see if he was coming back but he didn't. I got up and followed him. By the time I made it to the roof he was seated at a table with four people that I didn't know. They were Ellum rats but I didn't know any of their names.

"Took you long enough," he said to me and the conversation amongst the group stopped. They were all staring at me. "Sit," he commanded. I moved toward the empty chair and he stopped me. "Not there." He glanced at the floor beside his chair. "There."

I knelt on the floor beside his chair, not unaccustomed to his domineering side. He reached across the table and picked up the leather dog collar that I hadn't noticed was sitting there. Four other sets of eyes watched silently as he had me hold my hair while he fastened the collar around my neck. He adjusted it so the D-ring rested on my throat and then attached a chain to it. He hooked the other end of the chain to his belt and then patted me on the head like a good dog. He then casually lit a cigarette and proceeded to ignore me again. The rest of the table followed suit. It speaks volumes about the type of people that we hung out with. It was no big deal to them that he'd just taken my independence from me. The one thing that I prized above all else meant less than nothing to them. Maybe it was a joke to them but it wasn't to me and I knew that it wasn't to him. I wanted to be loved and cherished. I wanted to belong to him but I wanted it to be reciprocated too. I wanted it to be a partnership. In all the time that I had known him he'd never treated me like I was a thing to him. I had always been a person. I knelt there, ignored, trying to decide if he was just role playing or if this was the way it was going to be.

I was proud that he had claimed me in front of everyone. I was thrilled that he was making a statement about us being together. I just wasn't happy about what he was saying. I was awash in a myriad of conflicting emotions. I was humiliated and embarrassed. I was scared and nervous too. But I was also turned on. He was ignoring me but he would frequently reach down and touch the chain linking us together, as if he was comforting himself with its presence. I probably should have been running for the hills but I did nothing. I had lost my best friend, my only real friend, and he was the next closest thing to a friend that I had. As sorry as that sounds, it was true. I didn't get close to people. I had associates, I knew a lot of people by sight or first name, or whatever they called themselves, but I didn't, really, know anyone. And no one, really, knew me.

As lost as I was in my own thoughts, I knew, instantly, when he made to stand. The chain guaranteed that. It wasn't short, it was probably six feet long, but it was a tether that effectively transmitted his every movement to me. I stood when he did. I had no idea how long we had been sitting there but my knees ached from the hard surface and the rooftop had become crowded. He didn't speak to me as we walked down the stairs, me following closely behind him. I had a flash of fear at the realization that if he somehow tripped down the stairs, he would break my neck. It gave me the desire to reach out and grab ahold of him. I didn't.

We left the café and crossed the street. He didn't tell me where we were going and I didn't ask. I just followed along like a good dog. We went into a clothing and accessory shop where my obvious status went unremarked. It didn't surprise me as there was a mannequin on display dressed in nothing but draping chains. He made a couple of purchases and we walked up the street. I ducked my head in shame as we passed 2826. I had customers that frequented the club and there was never any telling who would be outside. He led me one block over and we went inside a candle and herb shop. He bought some things and added the package to the bag that I was already carrying. We went another block over and all the way down the street. A spike of fear went through me as he entered Tigger's Tattoos. He looked over the flash on the walls and the jewelry in the case but he didn't make any arrangements to have anything done to either of us. I wondered if I would have stopped him if he had tried to have me pierced or tattooed.

We walked the streets for some time. It wasn't as crowded as it would have been on a weekend but it wasn't dead either. I got the feeling that he was putting me on display. I couldn't decide if I was pissed about it or honored. It was probably a combination of both. We made it to the back street on which his car was parked and he took off his belt and handed it to me. He wasn't releasing me. He just didn't want the metal to tear his leather seats.

"Where are we going?" I spoke for the first time that night.

"Lobos," he replied.

I was familiar with the store. It was a shop, not too far from my place, that catered to the sexual exploits of gay men. We spent the short drive in silence. When we got there, he took the belt from me and put it back on before we entered the shop.

"How can I help you?" the attendant asked as we stepped inside.

"I'm looking for a cock ring," Eric replied.

"What kind?"

"What have you got?"

"Oh just tons of options," the guy effused.

We followed the clerk to the back wall of the store where there were plastic bins filled with the aforementioned tons of options. I tuned them out as they were talking. I wasn't worried about a cock ring. It wasn't permanent and it could be fun. I was looking around the store, a wide leather paddle on the wall had caught my attention. It had large holes running up the sides that I could image would leave some nasty blood blisters.

Suddenly, their conversation registered in my head.

"It will have to be fitted unless you already know what size he needs," the clerk said.

"It's not for him. It's for me. I want him to come for me. As long, as hard, and as often as possible," Eric explained.

Holy fuck. He was trying to delay his own orgasm. He was going to kill me. I spun around to see him holding a solid ring of steel in his hands. It was too big to be the kind that just fit around the shaft. It was the kind that went under the sac and over the top of the penis.

"What size do you need?" the clerk asked with a smirk at the expression of horror on my face.

"I have no idea." Eric held up the ring. "Bigger than this."

"Lovely," the clerk replied, giving Eric a lusty once-over.

My hackles went up. I stepped closer to Eric in a vain attempt to stake my claim. I possessively hooked my finger through an O-ring on his belt and tugged slightly. Eric glanced at me with a grin and then turned his attention back to the clerk.

"So how do we find out the size I need?" Eric asked.

"We take a measurement," the clerk smiled. "I would be happy to do that for you."

I whimpered. Honest to God. I actually whimpered.

Eric's soft chuckle soothed me but his words soothed me more. "I think we can handle that. Just tell me what we need and I can get that information for you."

"That's too bad," the clerk sighed and then explained the proper way to get the right fit. We left the store without the item we had come for. They didn't have one that would fit but they could order it, and they did. I wasn't at all happy that Eric had given the clerk his name and phone number. I knew, logically, that he'd had to in order to place the order. That didn't make me feel better.

Eric watched me with a smirk as he stripped off his belt in the parking lot. "Calm down, pet. Your place is secure."

He handed me the belt and threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. His palm rested on the back of the strip of leather around my throat. He pulled me forward and bent his head to kiss me. I was shocked that he would kiss me in public. Kissing me on the rooftop at the Starlight was one thing, not that he'd ever done it, kissing me on a busy metropolitan street was quite another. It was somewhere around midnight, I knew that because the shop closed at midnight, but that area of the city never got deserted. I thought it would just be a quick brush of the lips but it wasn't. His tongue caressed my lips until I parted them for him. He plundered my mouth, tasting me, claiming me yet again.

I moaned into his mouth and he broke away from me, leaving me breathless and hungry for more. "You make me crazy," he murmured, brushing his thumb across my bottom lip. His eyes darted from my lips to my eyes and back again. "Fuck," he breathed and captured my lips again.

He was gentle with me for the first time ever and I got lost in the sensuality of his kiss. His tongue played with mine in a slow waltz of a dance. His fingers alternately clutched and released my hair, never tugging, never pulling. He was making love to me with his mouth and I was a sucker for it. He caressed the back of my arm with his other hand then grazed his palm down and entwined his fingers with mine. He held my hand for a moment then dropped it and slid his hand around my waist, pulling my body flush with his. I could feel his cock getting harder, larger, as he pressed his groin into my abdomen.

"Fucking faggots!" some asshole yelled, breaking the spell and proving my point about not kissing in public.

Eric tore his body away from mine with a ferocious growl and whipped around to confront the man.

"Fuck off!" a softer voice shouted. Eric and I both turned toward the new voice to see the clerk from the store walking to his car. "Ignore the ignorant Neanderthal," he told us. "I think it's beautiful." He smiled at us and got in his car.

After both of the opposing viewpoints had left in their cars, Eric turned back to me. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked.

"That." He waved in the direction of the departed asshole.

"That wasn't your fault." I smiled at him. "And I loved the kiss."

He smiled back at me. "I was enjoying it, myself."

"I could tell." I leered at him.

"Hmm." He wiggled his perfectly arched eyebrows at me. "Are you hungry? You must be. Let's go get some food."

He took me to Denny's. The second that we walked in the door they made him unhook the chain, which he wasn't happy about. I wasn't very happy about it either. I was getting used to it. He unhooked it from the D-ring in my collar and looped it back on his belt as we walked toward the back room without being escorted by the hostess. There was already a group of people back there and, this time, I knew them.

He slid into a booth that was already occupied by three people, not caring if his belt ripped the pleather of the seat. I hesitated, not knowing where he wanted me. He glanced up and furrowed his brow.

"You're right," he said to me even though I had not voiced my concern. "This won't work."

He slid out of the booth and lugged a chair to the end of the table. He sat in the chair and pulled me into his lap, situating me sideways across his lap. He wrapped one arm around my back with his hand resting on my hip, then proceeded to engage in an established conversation, ignoring me again. I actually didn't care so much. I draped my arm around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder. I was content to just be held.

Our obvious involvement was hardly commented on. Relationships came and went on a regular basis in that group. The fact that we were both male was a non-issue. It was a bunch of misfits that banded together. Gay, straight, bi, or other, was less important than where the latest game was being held, which bands were playing where, and who got evicted or arrested. The only thing about our display that attracted attention was the advertised dynamic. None of them had ever known me to get involved with anyone and, the collar and our position, with me on his lap, seemed to answer questions that no one had ever been brave or nosey enough to ask.

I let Eric order for us both. He ordered far more food than was necessary because he knew that the others would bum from our plates. It was the way it worked. If one person had money on any given night they would share food. Eric always had money but I don't know how many of the regulars knew that. He didn't often invite people to his place and he wasn't ostentatious. He drove a really nice car but it wasn't showy. He didn't like to talk about himself and he didn't encourage questions. It brought back the question of how much any of us knew about each other.

When the food came Eric fed me chicken strips and mozzarella sticks and French fries, anything he could feed me with his fingers, all dipped in ranch dressing. He ate the same things but he dipped his in either ketchup or barbeque sauce. I found a great deal of humor in the subliminal messaging of our food choices but kept the thought to myself.

Unlike at Starlight, I wasn't silent. Eric didn't talk to me much but other people did. Because there were people on both sides of me, I shifted frequently to be able to look at the person that I was talking to. Every so often Eric would dig his fingers into my hip, stopping me from wiggling. It took a couple of times before I figured out why he was doing it. Once I realized what was happening, it did it more. It didn't take him long to figure out that I was doing it intentionally.

"I will fuck you on this table, Rain," he growled directly into my ear. I was pretty sure that he was bluffing. Almost positive. I wasn't confident enough to keep doing it though. He wasn't shy. He had no problem, as he'd proven that night, putting himself, me, or our relationship on display. He simply didn't care what anyone else thought. He didn't hide who or what he was from anyone. It was daunting for someone like me. I had spent my whole life running or hiding. I learned to keep quiet and stay back to protect myself. He was like a predatory beast, king of the jungle, top of the food chain. He had no fear and no reservations. I was more like a rabbit, adorable and loveable but known worldwide as tasty prey for any and all. I wasn't a pussy and I wasn't feminine and pampered. I would fight if absolutely necessary. I just preferred to avoid it if I could. It seemed more important to me to use my strength to try to stay alive. But then, I was barely taller than average and significantly thinner. Eric, on the other hand, at his height and build, with the right scowl on his face, was most people's nightmare come to life. Only the very brave or very stupid would take him on.

We didn't stay long after we'd eaten. We went back to his place and he was on me before he'd even gotten the door closed.

"Wait," I said. He didn't stop pawing at me and trying to take off my clothes. "Wait," I said louder to no avail. "Eric! Stop!"

"What's wrong, Baby?" He was panting and rock hard.

"We can't," I told him. "I can't."

His eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Because you tore me up last night," I informed him. "Have you ever heard of lube? You're big. You can't expect me to be able to take you dry without consequences. If you try to stick that monster in me right now you're not going to be able to touch me again for a week, maybe more."

He just stared at me like I was speaking some foreign language. Then he huffed and grabbed my hand. "Come on." He dragged me back out the door and we got in the car.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Lube," he said. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

I shrugged. I didn't bother to point out that having lube now wouldn't fix the damage already done.

We walked into the porn shop and the guy at the counter greeted me by name. "Hey, Rain."

"Hey, John." He was ringing someone else up so I didn't stop to talk. I looked up to see Eric giving me an odd look.

"John?" he mouthed and squinted at me.

I shook my head and pointed at my left pectoral where a nametag would be. Eric looked at John's nametag and smirked. I led Eric to the shelf where the lubricants were and did my very best impersonation of Vanna White.

"What do you like?" he asked, glancing at the options.

"Ahh." I laid my index finger alongside my mouth. "Let's see. There's numbing, sensitizing, ultra-slick, flavored, petroleum based, water soluble, and many others."

He smirked at me. "Numbing?"

"That would be good for me but bad for you," I told him.

"Why?" he asked, picking up a bottle.

"Because you're already not as sensitive as most guys. That's going to make you feel even less."

He looked up at me. "I'm not?"

I shook my head.

"How do you know?"

I arched my eyebrow at him and smirked.

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, how do you know what I'm feeling?"

"I don't. I just know how you're reacting. I'm basing my judgments on that."

"So this would make it harder for me to get off?" he asked.

I sure as fuck didn't want that. "It would make it not feel as good, Eric."

He humphed and set the bottle down. "So what do you like?" he asked again.

"You know, I'm surprised that you're not the foremost expert on this stuff with that huge cock of yours," I teased.

"You're the only guy that I've ever had sex with, Rain." He'd said it so quietly that I wasn't sure that I hadn't mistaken what he'd said.

"Are you serious?" I gaped.

"Yeah. I messed around with a few but nobody ever wanted to try to take me."

"Why did you have lube before? You've never taken me dry before last night."

He shrugged. "You asked for it the first time we had sex. I use it for work sometimes. I use it to jack off too. Sometimes it's required with girls. They dry up before I get anywhere near ready. It's not like that with you. I feel like I'm a chronic quickie every time I'm with you."