Chapter 3

Rowan kept his head down as the specialist droned on. He'd been hearing the same spiel since he was thirteen. Since the day that had just about ended his life. He knew prostate cancer was really rare in children and practically unheard of at thirteen.

He'd been at school and wet his pants. His father and mother had been called, of course, to take him home, and he'd existed in a bubble of shame for about a week until their divorce fights had taken precedence once more. Mother had insisted he wasn't behaving in a healthy fashion, and forced him to drink copious amounts of water, but it never seemed to occur to either of them to take him to the doctor, even when he'd tried to say it often hurt to pee.

Another month later, it had happened again.

This time he hadn't been exerting himself jogging around the cross-country course, he'd simply gotten up from his desk. He knew he wanted to go to the bathroom and had been granted that request when he'd politely asked.

He'd wanted to die. If a lightning bolt could have ended everything there and then he would have happily taken it. The gym embarrassment had been quickly hidden by his instructor, but this time every single child in his twenty-six-strong classroom had seen him pee as he stood. And while he'd been dragged to a doctor and then a specialist, no one had helped or even tried to intervene in the bullying that had followed.

And no one had ever cared. He'd existed in a cloud of misery as everything soon became his fault, as his mother and father divorced, and lawyers decided who he should love and when. His mother was deemed the parent who should ensure his education, as his father travelled for business, and for a reason Rowan could only deduce as simple spite, his father insisted that Rowan stay with him every weekend. He hadn't known then it would be the only thing that kept him sane as he grew up.

Curing the cancer had cured his incontinence on the whole, but he'd been unlucky enough to experience one of the possible after-effects of radiation. He leaked. He wasn't even aware of it, and so he had to wear a pad all the time. Sometimes it was barely a dribble, and a small pad would have done; sometimes it was more, and so he was stuck because he could never anticipate it and stress could make it worse. Since he lived in a constant state of stress, he hated his body even more. He wore pull-ups designed for...he wanted to say older men, but while that age-group was the most affected, it was by no means exclusive. And for far too long he'd had to wear actual diapers until a nurse saw how tight they were and suggested pull-ups to mother. And of course that was his fault because if he'd been slim they would have fitted fine.

In a desperate bid to reclaim some sort of life he'd gone down the rabbit hole of research and actually found some men didn't mind. Coupled with his submissive tendencies—he had a proper word for it now—he joined a club. Where he'd gotten the courage from he didn't know even today, but Master Adrian had been welcoming and then in the little room he'd finally felt at home for the first time in more years than he could remember.

Rowan had searched puppy play almost constantly in the last four days. He knew he had a real chance with this. Littles always seemed so small and delicate. Kittens the same, but puppies were bouncy and mischievous... Could he do bouncy? He'd barely eaten in the past three days and was ready to try to curl up at his master's feet. The only extra worry he had was the tail. But Master Dennison knew. He'd patted his ass a couple of times and the sound and feel of his pad was unmistakable, and he'd just smiled.

That was his biggest worry. It seemed some days like that worry ruled his life, and he supposed it did.

Mother drove them home from his appointment, and she was silent, which made him as nervous as if she'd been speaking. She never shouted. "John has asked me to fly to Phoenix with him this weekend."

Rowan was surprised. Phoenix was quite a way. Then he practically held his breath. When was she going?

"He wants us to get an early start, so I've arranged for Mrs. Edwards to pop in until you go to your father's."

No, no, no. He would miss Thursday, and this might be his only chance. Master Dennison might not ever ask him again. Mrs. Edwards was one of mother's neighbors and had come in whenever Mother didn't want to leave Rowan on his own, but she wasn't like his father. She didn't take her responsibilities lightly, and like everyone else his mother had spoken to, was convinced he had mental problems. He still never knew how he'd mixed up his mother's sleeping pills for his vitamins in the cupboard, but as usual, no one was ever interested in anything he had to say.

"Would it be helpful if I went to Father's on Thursday straight from school?" He never dared say university or even college. Mother insisted on it being referred to as school. He kept his face vaguely helpful, mildly interested, as if he didn't care either way. If she thought he actually wanted to do it, she'd just say no immediately.

And because you're pathetic, you won't argue.Rowan didn't do confrontation. The last time he'd dared argue, somehow he'd ended up having an "episode," as Mother called it. He thought he'd just gone to bed as normal but Mother had showed him the scratches and bruises he'd inflicted on her arms when he'd woken in the night, and he'd had to go to the bathroom to be sick. It had terrified him, and he never did it again.

"That might be acceptable," Mother said slowly, and Rowan kept his face impassive with a struggle, when really he was jumping up and down in his head. When they got home, Rowan went through the normal routine. Got his mother a glass of wine—he wasn't allowed any—and cooked his bland white fish and his mother's lamb steak. Cleared up and went to bed.

Thursday.

Rowan had his pull-ups on, and a spare pair he would swap at the last second. His pull-ups made him feel ridiculous and they were really tight, but he didn't dare go without. He'd scrubbed every inch of himself at least twice, and had attempted an enema, which had been downright weird because he couldn't reach properly. Although he didn't have a real one, just dishwasher liquid and water, so that might not help. Not that he expected tonight to lead to anything like that, but he'd heard the boys in the locker room agree that subs should always be prepared, so he went through all the prep. He'd even attempted shaving down there, but using the same disposables on his face as for elsewhere was awkward and hurt. He had no choice, though, because Mother counted them, and she would know if one was missing. So, he'd gone with a trim he'd had to use the kitchen scissors for.

He"d barely eaten all week, which had drawn approving glances from Mother. A mixture of nerves and the image in his head of a puppy had tamped down his appetite easily enough. He'd also drunk practically nothing in the last forty-eight hours. Because what if Master Dennison wanted him to wear a tail? It would mean removing his pull-ups.

Really, it was a wonder he hadn't had a heart attack.

Rowan let himself into the club at seven thirty, maybe an hour or more before Master Dennison would arrive so he would have the chance to get a shower in the club, despite taking one at home before he left.

When he let himself in, he smiled at Jenny, one of the subs who squealed and told him Master Dennison was here and was asking for him. Rowan had to breathe through an almost panic attack, and before he had the chance to disappear into the locker room, the door into the club opened and Master Adrian was there. He smiled kindly. "Glad you're here early Rowan, I need you to sign the contract Master Dennison just gave me." He handed Jenny a list of guest names and then held the door open for Rowan to go through. He was stuck. He could hardly keep Master Adrian waiting.

Gritting his teeth, he followed Master Adrian, who led him right into his office and closed the door. He hadn't looked up to see if Master Dennison had seen him, but it wasn't like Rowan was easy to miss. Rowan sat on the chair that Master Adrian indicated. The buzzing in his ears caused by nerves made it hard to hear what Master Adrian said. Although he remembered stipulating the forbidden use of impact play. He didn't want to be hit ever.

"I'm double checking because this, as you can see, is a different type of contract to a little. Very similar, but Master Dennison has added the stipulations he requires that I've just gone through, and I wondered if you had any to add?"

Rowan looked down at the contract. His stomach so tight with nerves he simply shook his head, terrified of opening his mouth. Master Adrian sighed. "Rowan, are you sure—"

"Yes," he rushed out. This was his only chance. He couldn't blow it.

Master Adrian nodded and stood. Rowan managed to get to his feet. "You have your safe word."

Rowan nodded. Not that he was going to need it. He wasn't going to be hurt.

Rowan left the office and was immediately met by Master Dennison who instructed him to call him Master Paul, urged him to go to the bathroom, and asked him what he wanted to drink.

Rowan was so relieved he was going to get the chance to change his pad, he squeaked out "water" and forgot to say please, but Master Paul let him go with a smile that warmed his heart. Rowan rushed to the locker room, relieved when it was empty. He knew he didn't have time for a shower but availed himself of the wipes that were always provided and carefully changed his pad, really pleased to see it was barely damp.

He stared at himself in the mirror, feeling almost like today was the start of his life. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves and walked back into the main room. He paused for a moment, then saw Master Paul stand up and hold out his hand. He'd even gotten Rowan a larger cushion to sit on. Rowan rushed over and clasped it, his eyes lowering automatically.

"I'm so happy to see you, Rowan," he murmured. "Do you have any questions about our scene?"

Rowan shook his head. He'd actually practiced being a puppy in his bedroom a few times. Puppies were supposed to be on all fours, right? Would Master Paul want that right away?

But Master Paul clasped his arm gently before he could sit. "You've got too many clothes on, you naughty pup."

Rowan flushed. He could feel the heat rolling off him, but being braver than he ever thought possible, he clasped the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Master Paul's smile made it worth it.

"And the shorts."

Rowan froze. What?

Master Paul leaned forward. "It's okay. I don't expect you to take your diaper off. Puppies need potty-training after all." And before Rowan could even protest, Master Paul had his shorts down.

And he stood there, naked. Completely. Well, naked except for a diaper as Master Paul was calling it He heard the door open behind him and the voices of some of the subs. He didn't dare look. He didn't dare breathe.

Rowan felt his chest tighten and wished with everything in him he could just die.