A/N: trigger warning - brief description of physical abuse, sexual abuse and abuse of power

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"I'm sorry, mummy, I'll do better, I promise," the sobs wracking Ellis' smaller than average twelve-year-old body were heartfelt, as the small woman rained blows across his shoulders and head.

"You are a stupid boy," her Eastern-European accent was strong – it always became more pronounced when she was really furious, "this is an easy change, you are stupid that you won't get it." She always pronounced it 'stoo-pit' and Ellis was used to having it chanted at him.

It wasn't the slaps of the palm that were hurting Ellis, even though he hadn't gone through his growth spurt yet, he was lean and wiry, and even though his sinewy but tiny mother could hit surprisingly hard, if he'd wanted to, he could easily have fended her off or run. But he didn't want. Because it was the words that truly caused him pain.

He was stupid. It was an easy change, he should have mastered it straight away. He didn't account for the shaking in his hands, the fear of his mother's reaction if he got it wrong, was what made him get it wrong, he didn't see the cause and effect.

Then, at fourteen, his mother had rejected him and, somehow, his life had managed to get worse. She'd sent him to a Conservatory in their city, as a boarder. Claimed he was nothing to her, but they might be able to pull some latent talent from him, get him good enough to be a session musician.

He'd remembered the interview, where his mother had told them he was useless, despite the fact that he'd easily obtained a full scholarship from them, where the interviewer, the principal, who was from the same country as his mother, the same city even, had smiled grimly, agreed with her that Ellis wasn't up to much, would require a much firmer hand than most, and that he'd be happy to guide with a steel rod.

He remembered the look of understanding in his mother's eyes, that in the years since had become a source for nightmares, thinking that she was sure what the principal had really meant, that she'd found Ellis so hopeless, such a waste of her energy, that she was happy to sell him off like that to focus on her younger son and daughter.

The principal had taken over the abuse from his mother, his words not hurting any more than hers, but his fists surely did. And then there was the other. When he would punish Ellis for his mistakes in the practice room by thrusting his cock deep into Ellis' mouth, choking his air off, pouring his juices into Ellis' stomach, growling that perhaps that was the only thing Ellis was any use for.

When he'd starting sharing Ellis' training, in music and the other, with select members of the staff who he knew shared the same dark desires as him, Ellis had wanted it to be over. Had hoped that maybe, one day, one of them would take the hand pressed on his throat too far, would allow him to welcome the darkness, take him so he wouldn't wake up, screaming and sweating, in the middle of the night.

But they never did, and he was at that school for four years before they told him his scholarship had come to an end and he was on his own.

He'd gone home. What else could he do? But his mother – his family, his little brother and sister – had not been there. A new family in their place, a happy family. He'd been lucky at that – although he didn't tell them anything of the truth, the idea of his mother leaving without telling him told them enough.

He was shy, and quiet, and polite, and they were middle class and wracked by guilt at his predicament, so they'd done some quick research, helped him find details of a Conservatory in New York, to work out what he needed to do to apply for a scholarship, had driven him to the bus station and pressed enough money in his hand for a ticket, and a little extra for food, asked him to let them know how it went, though he never had, just sent the money back the moment he'd had it saved.

* * * * *

It was when Ellis had started living with Frankie that the nightmares had become apparent. They didn't happen every night, and while he was living in dorms he had to return before curfew, and any time Ellis had dozed with Frankie I would suspect he'd been too exhausted to have any space in his mind for nightmares.

But when Frankie had asked him to move in, already utterly besotted after those three months, the nightmares had begun. Frankie had told me they were the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen – Ellis pushing out and writhing in his sleep, begging for it to stop, crying hot tears – the only time he cries – and making his throat hoarse with screaming.

When Frankie had come to me, terrified at how to deal with this, clearly unnatural, experience, I'd made the logical connection and asked Frankie to take Ellis to see a colleague of mine, who specializes in childhood trauma, who had, quite easily, drawn from Ellis the details of his childhood, the details that were still giving him nightmares now.

Frankie had told me some of it, with Ellis' permission, but now I wonder if it was a genuine permission or led by fear. I'd taken it as genuine at the time, because Ellis was so regularly sassy and confident. But then I'd gone to London, and the thoughts had, selfishly, gone from my mind.

I know now that the reason I would never have guessed of something dark in Ellis' past, was because of the strength Ellis had drawn from his new school-life – from the supportive and professional tutors who knew he deserved his scholarship, and the powerful friendships he had formed, from the part time job that was teaching him how to interact with people. That place had allowed his true self to shine, and he was well-loved and well-respected.

I remember a late-Autumn barbeque Frankie had in his long back garden just before Ellis had moved in with him, taking advantage of the last of the warmth. Ellis had charmingly goaded him for his stoicism, to the amusement of the other Doms present, and Frankie had just smiled warmly, wrapping Ellis in his strong arms, planting sweet kisses on his head.

Though that kind of warmth was common in the earlier days of their relationship, they haven't behaved in that way since I have returned to the scene. Instead Ellis is fearful, his eyes regularly brimming with the barely contained tears he hates to shed, believing they denote a weakness in himself, and Frankie seems mistrustful and angry.

I'm ready to make my recommendation, though I don't know how it will go down, with either of them.

"Frankie, do you love Ellis?"

"Of course, with every fiber of my being," Frankie has no trouble with that question.

"Ellis, do you love François?"

"Yes," he smiles warmly, but I'm ready to make it difficult.

"Do you trust François?"

"I-I-, uh, yes."

"Ellis, you promised you would be honest."

Ellis takes a deep breath, clearly fearful of the reaction.

"I- I don't know. I did, almost as soon as we met. Even though he practically stalked me," he lets out a small chuckle, "as soon as I let him in, I trusted him. He just had this aura about him that made me want to be near him, that made me feel safe. But- "

He's struggling so I help him out, "Things changed?"

"Yes, they did. When he decided he wanted to be a Dom all the time. It's not just that we don't have as much fun as we did at first, though we don't – he's serious all the time, always telling me the things I'm getting wrong, always punishing me for it. I feel as though I've become a burden to him, like he only stays with me because of guilt, and that he resents me for bringing my problems into our relationship. He didn't train many other subs at first, but since I became a sub all the time he trains often, and I don't think he sees me any differently to the others, maybe even worse because I'm like a millstone around his neck."

"That's not true, Ellis. I don't see you that way. I thought it would help you to have more structure, and I thought you'd like me to look after you more. I only train the others because it's my job – it's my club and my name on the line if they aren't properly trained."

"Frankie, why do you punish Ellis so often?"

"Well, if he's being a full time submissive, he needs to get better at sticking to the rules. He forgets to call me Master quite often, and he sulks a lot, and looks into my eyes without permission."

"Have you ever thought that maybe wants to look into your eyes and not constantly defer to you as 'Master' because he's your boyfriend? And that the reason he sulks isn't just because he's not happy, but also because you're removing all autonomy from him all the time – you're turning him into a brat by doing all his thinking for him.

"I want you both to do something for me. And you wont like it, but it will only work if you go into it wholeheartedly."

"I'm willing to try anything, Sir, I want François to be happy with me again."

"I trust you Gray, I'll do what you suggest."

"Okay, then. For five weeks you are to refrain from all Dom/sub behavior with each other. You are to act only as vanilla boyfriends – and that includes in the bedroom. Ellis, you will call Frankie by his name, and you will call any other Doms you meet by their names and look them in the eye without waiting for permission, and you won't wear your collar," Ellis grasps at his collar with a slightly horrified look. "I know that may make you feel uncomfortable, but it's my turn to ask you to push your boundaries.

"Frankie, you will not punish Ellis for any behaviors at all. If you don't like something you will talk to him about it, discuss what the problem is. You will allow him, and encourage him, to make his own decisions and he is to rekindle his friendships. You will go on dates together to somewhere other than the club, though it's fine if you go to the club, provided you're not playing D/s.

"You must have conversations with each other about your day, every day, and talk about upcoming plans."

"I don't know about this, Gray," Frankie actually looks nervous.

I'm not surprised. He became a Dom when he was twenty-one, when I returned from London where I'd trained under a colleague of mine, who'd introduced me to the life when I'd met him during a practicum placement in a London hospital while I'd been studying at University there on a year abroad.

I'd introduced Frankie to it, and he'd taken to it like a duck to water. But it has been a relatively lonely existence for him.

He has many dominant friends, but he's deceptively shy, and the contact with them is all around the lifestyle and the club, so, except for me, there isn't much depth to the friendships. And the lifestyle, and his own stoic exterior, doesn't allow for developing bonds with subs, unless you're in a relationship with them, so it can teach you to be stand-offish.

It's not helped by the fact that none of his dominant friends have ever bothered with long-term relationships, particularly since Frankie had opened the club at twenty-three and ever since then there's been a continuous trail of beautiful young submissives to entertain ourselves with.

It was only when I started a relationship with Liam, two years ago, that I started to see that there were alternatives that were far richer. I think it's because I met Liam at an event at a different club that, whilst being far less professionally run, was also more casual, and a lot of the attendees were more of my frame of mind.

So when Liam and I would go out with his friends, despite many of them being submissives, they never felt awkward around me or deferred to me, unless I was specifically in Dom mode, which only really happened in the club, or in bed, but Liam was the only one there then; well, most of the time.

In fact, the barbeque at Frankie's house was the first time we've spent social time outside the club as a whole group in at least a year. It was an amazing time and I'm wondering: if I can get Frankie and Ellis back on track, perhaps we can start to develop that more.

"Listen, Frankie, you're going to have to be brave," I'm not mocking him, too much.

I do genuinely think this is what their relationship needs, though it will be hard for them to go cold turkey.

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