Chapter 9

Nine

MOUSE

" W ell, you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?" Doc was his usual ray of sunshine and joy, but I didn't take it personally. I'd be more worried if he wasn't huffing and grumbling.

Doc held the front door of the surgery open, glaring at Cal and me. "Did you forget how to use your words as well as your sense of self-preservation?"

Ouch. I supposed I deserved that remark.

"Well, we would come in but there is this grumpy, old goat in the way." I slipped past him, smacking a kiss to his bearded cheek and ignoring the outraged huff he gave me.

"Get inside, you reprobate. I've put the coffee machine on, but the damn thing doesn't like me. Only Rhys can get it to work."

Callum followed me in, clapping Doc on the shoulder. "I'll see if I can get the coffee going, and let you see to Mouse." He headed off to the small kitchenette while I followed Doc through to his office.

I'd always liked Doc's consulting room. It wasn't all white walls and boring. He had Dalí prints interspersed with pencil sketches of steampunk airships and cities. There was a basket overflowing with soft toys for his youngest patients, and potted orchids dotted the room. The space showed hints of Doc's personality and I always felt relaxed when I was here.

"You know the drill, Mitchell. Shirt off and hop up on the table. How did you sleep last night?" Doc stepped forwards and helped me take off my hoodie and T-shirt when he saw how stiffly I was moving.

"Not great. I had nightmares and each time I rolled over onto my back I woke up, but Cal made sure I took those pain pills you gave him, and the antibiotics." Doc touched my skin with gloved hands, checking my back and spending time inspecting where he'd stitched.

"Some of these are going to scar, I'm sad to say, but most of them are superficial. The bite, though, is a nasty bit of work. You were damn lucky. Cal told me that idiot used a bull whip on you. The damage could have been horrifying."

Doc's grumbling was oddly comforting.

"I can't convince you to speak to Donald about this?" he asked, as he applied more antiseptic salve and waterproof dressings to some of the more severe welts.

"Officer Grumpy?" I used Rhys's old nickname for the local constable. These days he was less Officer Grumpy and more Donald, but the nickname had stuck.

"Yes. I know you don't want to press charges, but the severity of these wounds and the bite—he was aiming to inflict damage. This wasn't the actions of a Dom, but an unhinged individual." He applied more antiseptic cream and gauze to the bite on my shoulder, dressing that too in another waterproof plaster.

Doc moved around to my front, lifting my chin and focusing on my bruised nose.

"Ouch, that hurt. And no, I don't want to talk to Donald. I did something stupid and I'm not going to let it happen again, I promise."

Doc glanced at me before making me turn my head left and right. "Alright, I'm not going to push you on this. Just keep taking the antibiotics and keep your wounds clean. Your nose isn't broken, but it and your cheek are already bruising like a naughty sub's arse. Let's get your clothes back on, then come sit for a minute."

Once dressed, I followed Doc to his desk, sitting in one of the chairs in front of him.

Doc leaned forwards on his desk, elbows resting on its worn surface. "What you went through last night was an assault, and a violation of trust. It would be remiss of me not to encourage you to speak with someone."

"You mean someone like Dec?"

"Yes, or I can give you the names of a couple of other therapists I know who are also open-minded towards the lifestyle."

My initial response was to say fuck no . I'd tried therapy after the crash, and it had just left me feeling worse. But I'd seen the changes in Rhys since he'd started to see Declan, and my way of sorting my headspace out didn't seem to be working. So maybe it was time to take the risk and talk to Declan.

"Do you think Dec would have space to fit me in?"

"I'm certain he would. I'll speak to him on Monday." Doc studied me for a moment, his eyes searching. "I'll ask him if he can fit you in on a day Rhys isn't working, if you don't want him or Simon knowing."

"Yeah, for now that would be great. I know how they'll be, all proud and supportive and shit." I sighed, wanting to slouch in the seat, but my back kept me sitting upright.

"Yes, I can imagine how terrible it must be to have such supportive friends and family." If Doc's tone were any drier, it would be a desert.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you," I answered, trying not to be bitchy. I got it, I really did. And Simon and Rhys were fucking brill. But sometimes it could be a bit much.

"Probably comes from spending so much time around you lot." Doc laughed. "Come back in on Monday so I can check on that bite again, and the larger welts. Just remember to keep them clean and dry, and remember to put the salve on them after you shower. I left the jar at Callum's last night."

"I promise I will. I'm pretty sure Cal's not going to let me forget. It's like he's taken a shot of the same Daddy juice Simon drinks." I smiled, remembering our conversation in the car. "And thanks for last night, Doc. You didn't have to come out but I'm glad you did, and I know Cal would be saying the same thing."

"You don't need to thank me, just keep yourself safe for my heart's sake." Doc tapped the table then smiled. "Mind you, I don't think Cal's going to be letting you out of his sight for a while."

I smiled, not finding the idea terrible at all. "Yeah."

T he drive home was quiet. Cal and I were both lost in our own thoughts. My mind kept jumping from the decision I'd made to see Declan to the discussion Cal and I were going to have.

I hadn't lied when I'd told Cal that I was excited and scared. He was always the ideal in my brain, the man I'd held up as my blueprint for the perfect guy, and now he was offering to be my Dom—and if I was reading things right, my Daddy, too. The whole concept was freaking me out. I'd never thought there was even a remote possibility that Cal might feel anything other than a big-brother sort of affection for me.

"Alice is probably going to want to know how you hurt yourself when she gets home tomorrow night." Callum's voice broke the silence in the car.

I looked out at the misty view. The weather had turned bleak and cold since we'd left Tewsbury, triggering memories I'd rather not dwell on. "I'll tell her I had a bit of a tumble off my bike."

"Good idea. She won't buy it for a second—you're a terrible liar—but she won't pry. As long as she knows you're okay, she'll leave it be," Callum answered as he focused on the road.

"She's smarter than both of us combined," I laughed, knowing the don't give me that bullshit look Alice would give me.

Up ahead, blue lights flashed, and I could see the shapes wearing high-vis vests. My gut clenched uncomfortably as the car drew closer. Callum pulled the car to a stop when we saw a police car parked across the road.

Donald Mathis, aka Officer Grumpy, approached us from the side of the road, his wet weather jacket pulled closed.

"Morning, Cal. Afraid you're going to have to take the laneways back to your place. Lorry's gone over, spreading chicken feed all over the road."

"Anybody hurt?"

"No, only Sam's pride. Silly bugger tried to avoid hitting a damn badger and the trailer jackknifed. Ambos are checking him over, and he should be alright, but the road's a mess." Don squinted through the open window, looking at me. "You okay, Mouse? Looks like you've been in the wars yourself, mate."

I nodded, taking short breaths, trying not to focus on the flashing blue lights and police cars. It was a scene too close to the past. My voice sounded rough as I spoke. "Yeah, this is just bringing back some bad memories." I saw no point in lying. The crash and Mum's death were no secret, even though it had happened over nine years ago.

Donald nodded, but his hazel eyes narrowed when he saw my bruises. "What happened to you, then?"

"Pub fight. Went out drinking with some mates in York last night. Some wankers tried to start something, and you know lads fired up on lager and ego," I answered, giving a shrug. Donald seemed to buy it and he turned his attention towards Cal.

"You can turn off just ahead. If you follow the lane for a couple of miles it will bring you back round, past the accident."

"I know that lane. Used to go parking there as a lad." I could hear the smile in Cal's voice. Donald gave a deep chuckle and patted the top of the car .

"I'll see you both at the Lion during the week. Drive safe." Donald wandered back off towards the other coppers, giving us a wave as we drove past.

I kept my face turned to Callum, trying to stave off the panic I felt bubbling up in my chest. My thoughts kept drifting back to the crash, to the smell of burning, and Mum.

"Mouse? Focus on me, lad. I want you to tell me what you see now." Callum's calm voice was an anchor, helping me to focus and not give in to the sinking, swirling feelings in my head.

I blinked rapidly, looking out at the fields, the crash now behind us. "Um, hedgerows, tilled fields… uh, a cow that looks like Simon."

Cal barked out a laugh and slowed the car as we passed the large Highland bull. Its rusty red hair did look an awful lot like Simon's.

My chest still felt like it was caught in a vice, and my head was pounding.

I smelled smoke.

"Lad, what are you feeling?"

"I smell smoke, it's—I know it's not the car, but I smell it."

"I know, lad. I smell it too. Look over that hedge. See the plume of smoke? That is the Buttler's place, and I bet they have their brick kiln going. They make all those fancy, handmade bricks that all the rich nobs want for their fancy garden walls."

I looked to where Callum pointed and saw the smoke curling up. My thoughts kept slipping, but Callum kept talking, his gruff voice a constant anchor keeping me from spiralling. I was barely aware of the car pulling into the driveway until Cal had my door open and his arms around me.

"Come on, little Mouse, let's get you inside." Cal lifted me out of the car like I weighed nothing, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, hiding my face against his warm skin. I expected him to put me down once we reached the front door. Instead, he chuckled softly.

"You don't happen to have your key on you, do you?"

I nodded and let go of Cal's neck long enough to pull my keychain out and fumble a bit with the lock while Cal held me. I wondered at what point being babied like this would start to annoy me, but for now, I felt safe and warm.

Cal kicked the door shut behind us. Once we were inside, he carried me through to the kitchen and set me down on one of the stools.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a hot drink, then a nap."

That sounded like heaven right now. My back was starting to ache, and the headache that had started in the car had only gotten worse. I nodded, pulling my hoodie around me tighter.

"Been a while since you had one of those attacks." Cal spoke as he bustled about the kitchen, filling a saucepan with milk and turning the gas hob on. I didn't know why he didn't just shove the milk in the microwave to heat it, instead doing the same as my mum had done and heating it in a saucepan.

"Yeah, my head's a mess." I slumped down on the stool, exhausted. I laid my arms along the counter. "I kind of want to hide from the world right now." I rested my head on my arms and watched Callum moving about the kitchen, grabbing mugs and hot cocoa powder.

Callum stopped spooning chocolate powder into the mugs and gave me a thoughtful look. "Feel up to having that talk?" He tapped the spoon on the mug, then turned back to the hob to grab the milk.

"Yeah, we probably should." How was Callum going to react once I opened up to him? Would he be disappointed? Disgusted? I didn't think so, but I was afraid that any chance I might have with Cal would evaporate as soon as I started to talk.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. I want you to head upstairs and get changed into your PJs, grab your bear, and meet me in the sitting room."

Callum's tone was all Daddy, and I found myself nodding without even realising it.

"You got to promise me something." I sat up and held Cal's gaze.

"What's that?"

"If I tell you everything—even what's going on in my fucked-up head—that you won't hate me." I dropped my eyes to the counter, not sure if I could look back up at Cal. I jumped when I felt Cal's hand in my hair, turning me gently to look at him.

"What is it going to take to get through to you? I'll never hate you, Mouse." Cal took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he opened them. The open fondness in his grey eyes nearly took my breath away.

"Promise?"

"Pinkie promise." Cal held out a large, calloused hand, extending his little finger. Living with Alice, pinkie promises were taken very seriously, so I linked mine with his.

"Okay. I'll go get changed." I slid forwards on the stool, only to be stopped by Cal. He brought his hands up slowly, as if telegraphing his intentions, and cupped my cheeks, gently stroking my scruffy beard.

"You are a beautiful, frustrating man who drives me to distraction, and whose arse is begging for a spanking. But I promise you, boy, I will never hate you."

Before I could argue, Cal's lips softly brushed mine. The kiss was barely there, but enough to light a warm blaze in my heart. I followed his lips with mine when he pulled away, wanting more.

"Not yet, lamb. Go get changed for me. I pulled out one of my old band T-shirts this morning, thought it might feel softer on your back. Go put that on, and those cute Miss Piggy PJ pants I saw hiding in your drawer, and meet me in the sitting room." Callum stood back.

"Okay." No, it was not okay! I wanted more kisses, not that barely-there touch. I wanted to climb that man like a horny squirrel. But the arched brow and firm set to his lips told me that wasn't going to happen until we'd talked.

I hurried to Cal's room first and found the T-shirt and Oscar sitting on Cal's bed. I didn't stop long, grabbing what I needed and then heading back to my room to change. My dresser drawer was pulled open and my sleep pants stuck out, no doubt from when Cal came in here last night to find my pyjamas. My Miss Piggy PJs were sitting to one side of the drawer. I had my normal PJs, but I also had a few special pairs, covered with my favourite Muppets and SpongeBob. They had always been a secret obsession for me, and I loved to be able to slip into them after a bad day and curl up and play on my Game Boy or read comics until it didn't feel like the world hated me.

A quick check in the mirror had me wincing. My left cheek had a nasty bruise that was already purpling, and my nose, while not broken, didn't look great. I'd not looked at myself in the mirror this morning when I got dressed, and seeing myself now, I could understand why Doc and Cal had been fussing. I didn't want to look at my back yet. I'd seen Cal's face when he'd seen it, and I didn't think I could take seeing it for myself. I was going to wear the scars of my stupidity for life.

"Boy, you better not be wanking up there." Callum's voice carried up the staircase and brought a smile to my face. I couldn't let myself wallow in what had happened—not now, not while Cal was waiting downstairs for me. More kisses had been promised, and I wanted those badly . I wanted to feel his lips on mine, not just a gentle peck.

I grabbed Oscar and my favourite pillow and headed downstairs, hugging Oscar to my chest and praying that this conversation wasn't the beginning of the end.

When I stepped into the sitting room, Cal was already sitting on the sofa. The large, deep sofa was probably one of the most comfortable places in the world. Its fluffy cushions were so soft you could snuggle right into them. The sitting room was my favourite place. With its low ceilings and dark beams, the whole room felt like it should be in a hobbit house. The fire was going, and Cal patted the cushioned seat alongside him.

Cal took my pillow from me and laid it over his lap. I sat down, not sure what to do .

"Lay down, little Mouse. Rest your head in my lap."

Well, okay, I could do that. Being close while I talked about all the shit in my head and everything else would either help or I'd freeze up, but being able to curl up with Cal was just too big a temptation.

I wiggled around a bit until I got comfortable, holding Oscar to my chest. I let out a deep breath. "Okay, so what did you want to talk about?"

Cal didn't answer at first. His hand went to my hair and unclipped the banana clip, letting my hair loose. He threw the clip onto the coffee table alongside the hot cocoas, and then placed his hand back in my hair, his fingers starting to rub soothingly. I was starting to think he had a thing for it. I wasn't going to complain. I loved when partners played with my hair, and the way Callum kept scratching at my scalp, ever so gently, had me close to purring.

"Let's start simple. When did you get into kink?"

I closed my eyes, thinking about the first time I'd gone to Club Crimson. "Was just after my eighteenth, while I was still studying in Leeds. I'd gone to a couple of the open nights with friends. You know the ones—Beginner's Bondage and Kinks 101. Master Roman at the Crimson knew I was Simon's little brother, but he promised not to say anything as long as I played safe. And I did, at first." Cal's fingers were working magic on my head. The pain behind my temples was slowly receding and I was starting to relax. "I started to learn things from the Doms there, but I also realised I was into stuff that was a bit more hardcore."

"Like what?" Cal started to massage the back of my neck and I found myself groaning softly, until he stopped. "I asked you a question, Mouse."

"Um, sorry. But your fingers are fucking magic."

Cal let out a soft snort. "So I've been told. Now keep talking and I'll keep rubbing."

"Promises, promises," I muttered, before I felt a stinging slap to my arse.

Fucking man had spider monkey arms, I swore. The pain from the slap felt like a warm blanket, arousing and comforting at the same time. I wasn't ashamed of the soft moan that slipped out. I was a slut for pain given in the right way.

"Little Mouse, talk to me." Callum's voice was pitched low in warning.

"We could skip the talking and you could spank me again," I answered hopefully, wiggling my arse back and forth in what I hoped was an easy-to-read invitation.

"We're going to talk first."

I huffed out a breath, growing annoyed. "I'd really concentrate better with a cock in my mouth or arse," I snapped. It wasn't a lie, I did concentrate better after I'd been used, but I also didn't want to talk. I was afraid if I spilled out everything inside my brain, Cal would see what I really was. Besides, I wasn't used to men wanting to talk, to know what I wanted or who I was. Often, it was an exchange of safe words and a list of limits, and that was it. But I couldn't put the whole blame on them. I often used sex and submission as tools to avoid conversations, used my sexual hunger to stave off anyone getting to know me.

I twisted my head to look at Cal and saw him watching me with a thoughtful frown .

"I think I have an idea to keep your mind from wandering too far. And you are going to talk to me, little Mouse." Cal gently tugged on my hair. "Can you stand for me?"

I sat up slowly. Cal grabbed my chin and turned me to face him.

"I'm going to ask you questions. This isn't a scene, but if it gets too much you can call red. I know for whatever reason, you feel I'm going to reject you if I don't like your answers, but that's not how this works between us. But I need honesty from you, lamb, so I know how to keep you safe and give you what you need." He brought his face closer to mine. "When I ask you a question, lamb, I want a verbal answer." He gave a mean grin. "Well, that's unless your mouth is otherwise occupied. Do you hear me?"

Lamb. He'd called me that twice, and I didn't hate it. Oh shit. Daddy, Sir, was still waiting for an answer. "I promise to use my safe word."

Cal's grey eyes darkened, and his eyebrows rose. "I promise to use my safe word…?"

"Daddy, I promise to use my safe word."

Cal brought our faces closer together, rubbing his nose against mine. "Good boy."

The words were like a shot of serotonin to my brain, and I whimpered. I damn well whimpered at those two words. I needed to hand my maso card in if he could do that to me with two little words.

"What's your safe word?" Cal still held my chin, forcing me to hold his gaze. It was like he was looking past my walls and seeing me. That was a scary fucking thought.

"Ginger, Daddy. "

"Ginger?" Cal repeated, with an amused tilt to his lips.

"Did a scene with a Dom who liked it a bit too much. Can't stand the taste or smell to be honest. Didn't mind the figging, just no ginger."

Cal gave a dark chuckle. "Don't worry, lamb. If I decide we're going to do that, I won't use ginger."

"Thank you, Daddy." Fuck. That was getting easier to say. It never was this way for me, even with the Doms at Crimson. I always fought more before I felt like I could submit.

"Now, up you get and lose the pants. Slowly though, lamb. I don't want you hurting your back." The gentle admonishment made me feel a little giddy.

I climbed off the sofa as quickly as I could and the pants were off in record time. Standing in front of Cal's intense gaze with nothing but his oversized T-shirt on, I felt strangely vulnerable and small. The thick scar tissue on my left hip and thigh were visible. I normally gritted my teeth and dealt with the looks from Doms, praying they'd not say anything, but I knew Cal had seen them before. He'd been there when I'd woken in hospital, crying and screaming in pain.

He sat forward, placing his hands on my hips. The fingers of his left hand stroked the raised scar tissue. I didn't see repulsion or pity in his eyes, just heat and admiration, before he leaned forwards and kissed the damaged skin on my hip.

"Beautiful, feisty boy," he murmured, before he sat back. He glanced at my already eager cock and smirked wickedly. "Such a pretty little cock. It would look very sexy with some jewellery." I nearly swallowed my tongue when Cal grabbed my cock, roughly stroking me from root to tip.

I nodded eagerly. I'd been wanting a Jacob's ladder piercing for ages—partly, I was ready to admit, just to get Cal's hands on my junk, even if it was to shove bits of titanium through it.

A petulant whine broke from me when Cal let go of me and sat back. The evil, wonderful bastard was messing with my brain.

"Now, straddle my lap, lamb." Cal moved my pillow aside and patted his long legs. Instinctively I went to turn around, but Cal's hand caught my wrist. "No, lamb, I want you looking at me. I want to see your eyes when you tell me what you want. What you need."

Oh, fuck! The sneaky bastard would know with a look if I was holding back or lying to him.

I straddled his lap, my naked arse cheeks rubbing against the rough denim of his jeans. The clothing disparity between us was doing things to my brain, which had quite frankly already shorted out at the whole situation.

Rough hands grabbed my hips and held me still, stopping me from wiggling, "Now let's start this again, lamb. What was it that you sought out at The Pit?"

I dropped my eyes to focus on the Ankh pendant that hung around Cal's neck, "Pain, humiliation, punishment."

"Now, say that again but look at me." Cal's hand left my hip and encircled the base of my cock, gripping tightly, almost on the edge of painful.

Taking a sharp breath, I lifted my head. "Pain, humiliation and punishment. "

Cal's hand stroked up my shaft slowly. "Good boy. Now, what is it you actually want?"

His hand moved agonizingly slow, his rough palm chafing at my already oversensitive skin.

"I still want pain. I've always needed that." Cal held my hip still, stopping me from thrusting up into the stranglehold he had on my cock.

"What else?"

"I want to be used. Fucked hard and mercilessly." It felt so fucking good when Cal's hand sped up slightly. "I want to be a good boy and take everything you give me. I want to wallow in the pain and humiliation."

Cal leaned forward, his nose brushing my ear, then his teeth gently nipping at my neck. "What else, little Mouse?"

"I want you to tell me I'm good. I want—I want to be held. I want someone to make me not feel like I'm dying inside." I wanted all of this so badly, as I spoke tears started to form and fall freely down my face. My hips rocked, trying to chase the feel of Callum's hand.

"Will you let me give you that? Will you give me your submission, your pain? Will you?" Cal's hand tightened around my shaft.

"I want to, but I'll fight you. I can't not." I shuddered as Cal bit down on my neck. It was so different from when Ziggy did it. The pain was there, but this time it blossomed into euphoria.

Callum drew away from me and smiled wickedly. "I know you're going to fight me, and I can't wait. Now, lamb, come for your Daddy."

Doms had tried and failed in the past to make me come on command, but Daddy's husky voice, so commanding, had my body taking over, telling my brain to shut the fuck up. I came hard, Callum's hand milking me and not stopping until I was a writhing, oversensitive mess in his arms.

I collapsed against his chest in a sobbing, snotty puddle.

"There's my good lamb. Let it out, little one."

Daddy had me.

The thought was both freeing and terrifying, but in his strong arms, I could let myself believe it—for a little while, at least.