“He just said as soon as possible,” he replied.
I could work with that.
I cleared my throat and decided right then and there that it was time for me to lay down the law on my end. If Corey was, in fact, being groomed by Marcus, I was going to show the boy that he had other options. Marcus’s word was not gospel.
“As soon as possible is a minimum of twenty minutes after we’ve finished,” I told the boy. “Depending on how much pain I give you, and what toys I use, it might be more. But if Marcus is going to handle the aftercare, I need time to inspect every inch I’ve beaten so I can tell him where you might need extra tending.” Not that it would stop me from applying cooling aloe or whatever I might deem necessary.
You didn’t fight a dirty opponent by playing fair.
Fucking hell, it pissed me off. Now everything was settling in, and I wasn’t wrong. My radar for this wasn’t broken. Marcus was doing something incredibly abusive. The way Corey had spoken, almost robotically, about how their dynamic was the best for them—because Marcus had said so… Screw that douchebag. One day soon, I looked forward to blacklisting Marcus. But I had to be patient and dig deeper into Corey’s mind to get his real views and feelings.
“If you say that’s necessary, that’s what we’ll do.” Corey nodded. “I think I can explain it to him. He’s very understanding—not to mention generous to let me seek out pain from another Top.”
I smiled and scrubbed a hand over my mouth as I forced down my anger. It was either that or drive straight to wherever Marcus was right now and give him the what’s-up in my language.
“He’ll be here tonight, won’t he?” I asked. I had half a mind to talk to Marcus myself…
“Yes, Sir. I’ll talk to him before then.” He looked so hopeful. He really didn’t fucking see what was so wrong with this situation.
“Good plan.” I inclined my head. “It was really all I wanted to talk to you about. More aftercare is necessary—and not just for you, but for me. Tops need aftercare too.”
He tilted his head at me, and his eyes widened in a way that made it clear he hadn’t considered that. “You need aftercare, Sir?”
I chuckled softly. “Of course I do, pet. Every bruise I give your cute little ass is a bruise I receive. Except, my bruises are up here.” I tapped my temple. “I take pleasure from administering pain on a maso, but the peace and calm you experience from an emotional release doesn’t hit me until I know your needs were met—and that you’re okay. Then I can relax and let the satisfaction wash over me. It’s a heady feeling, sometimes an empowering rush, sometimes a blanket of serenity.”
His gaze flickered, and he absently brushed his fingers over his lips as he processed what I’d said. “And I prevent that feeling when I leave so early,” he murmured. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, Sir. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey—it’s fine.” I reached over and gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “Now you know. Don’t beat yourself up. That’s not why I told you.”
“I know, but…I feel so bad.”
I didn’t want him to do that, although this might make it easier to talk to Marcus at the party tonight. Corey was an absolute sweetheart, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt others. I had a feeling he would plead his case to Marcus about the necessity of prolonging the moment before a session with me was over.
And in that time frame, I was going to open Corey’s eyes little by little.
The situation changed my plans for Sloan too. I needed him to attack from another angle.
Fifteen minutes before the doors opened to the brats’ Halloween party, I slipped into the downstairs club area from the back, and I had Lucian and Penelope in tow. The three of us were DMs tonight, and I couldn’t imagine how many shenanigans we’d witness.
It looked like a Party City had started using our place as a storage facility for Halloween decorations. Skeletons, pumpkins, and bats everywhere. Lights flashing in purple and orange, which looked funny without any music pumping. A smoke machine that Shay was currently plugging in.
This went beyond the Halloween-themed cocktail decorations and napkins I’d delivered earlier this week, as per Ivy’s request.
I had to admit, they’d done a fantastic job. Nobody would be able to guess they’d thrown this party together in just days.
Interesting that they’d stowed away all the major kink furniture, though. We watched Aiko and Macklin carry the last item, a St. Andrew’s Cross, into the supply closet next to the corner bar. It’d once been River and Reese’s office, and we still called it that. But these days, it was a room filled with larger contraptions, supplies, and toys.