A/N: You know, Frankie is pissing me off a bit right now. Dumb ass. 

He'll get there, though.

François

Ellis had a matinee performance this afternoon. I didn't go, because I needed to do some work relating to my parents' business. I've been letting it go too much lately, focusing on the club, and on Ellis, but Connor took him and will bring him home.

My brother and sister do a lot of work for the business; Etienne as Chief Financial Officer and Delphine as Chief Operating Officer. My parents had wanted Lucien to join the firm too, but he had joined the army as a medic instead and now works for Medecins Sans Frontieres. Yes, we're the type of family where a medical degree is considered a step down. I joined the forces too, because college bored me, but I did come back to the business like a good little boy after finishing my degree remotely. I can't be too bitter, because I do love the pressure of my work, but the shadow of something larger, or at least more dangerous, has been tainting it lately.

It started about three months ago, when I had a visit from a certain Andrei Volkushkin, who is the leader of a branch of the Russian mafia. I knew who he was – I keep myself appraised of the news, and he is a man who prides himself on being unafraid of what others, including law enforcement, think of him, despite having spent time in prison. He was upfront about his desire to expand his family's business down a more 'legitimate' route, claiming he could join our business with a large Massachusetts-based property portfolio, and I was equally upfront that he wasn't expanding anything off the back of my family's hard work. He was frustrated but polite, so I was surprised that I began to receive threatening phone calls shortly after, telling me I was going to give up everything.

He hadn't pushed anything further than those strange calls, but, because of them, I wasn't entirely astonished at the pseudo-attack from the young man a few weeks ago. I had been expecting him to level up the threat in some way. Honestly? I'm slightly surprised I walked away from that unscathed as everything I know about the Russians puts them as not messing around. I know Dex was pissed at himself for not seeing it coming or being able to stop the boy from escaping, but I was just happy that Ellis was with Connor and therefore safe.

I've thought about that evening often though, trying to evaluate why something seemed off. The cold steel of the blade was real, alright, the hissing but slightly high-pitched threat felt very real, the shock on Dex's face was a novelty, but it was real. Yet, somehow, it still felt like a school play, being poorly acted. But nothing about it becomes clear through the magic of over-thinking so I'm pleased to give up on it when I hear the door go, and my boy is home.

As always, now, Ellis comes into my study having already stripped to his boxer shorts in the foyer. I take my moment to admire his beautiful toned body as he comes in, his eyes lowered, and stands at attention in front of my desk. He's looking a little paler, which is to be expected because we're just coming into spring after a long, cold winter, but even his face has that pallor caused by lack of sunlight and I guiltily try to remember the last time we went for a run, or even a walk, in the park. I've just been so busy with other things, and so worried about his mental health after those revelations last year, that he's almost been under house arrest. And this issue with the Russians means it's not likely to end any time soon.

He's still stunning though, regardless of pale skin, his chest and abdomen carrying the perfect level of musculature, naturally smooth and mouthwateringly defined. His thighs beg to be massaged and teased, strong and elegant, just like all of him. I can't see his glorious bright eyes right now as they're perfectly cast down, but I can just see a sweet smile, which makes my heart glow, as it seems to have been in hibernation for a few weeks.

"How was the matinee, Pet?"

"Really good, Master. We got a standing ovation." He sounds excited, more so than just that should suggest, as he gets standing ovations all the time.

"Do you have something to tell me, Pet?"

"One of the contributors came up to me at the party afterward. Mr Wallard. He said my playing was superb and, Master, he asked me to play next Thursday at a soiree he's putting on!" The words make a strange feeling rise in my chest, and I think it's anger. Ellis is supposed to speak to me before making important decisions, but once again, he isn't following the simple rules we're meant to live by. But, secretly, I know the reason for my anger is meeker than that: I'm still letting him down, for all the effort I'm putting into guiding him.

"You're in trouble Pet."

"Master?!" See. He doesn't even understand what he's done wrong, because my training hasn't been good enough.

"Follow me!" I demand, and stalk off toward the club door, Ellis scurrying behind me, still just in his underwear.

When we get to my office I tell him to strip and stand in attention with his nose touching the wall. I have a lot of work to get done, and this is going to be a big punishment which is why I brought him straight here even though it's still early. Ellis hates standing like this, he gets so bored, but it's just the first step and I need to come up with a punishment he'll remember for long enough to improve this shocking behavior.

I do manage to get a lot of work done over the next couple hours, surprisingly, as my head is still reeling with this position I'm in. I never thought I'd have a permanent submissive – an open contract. A boyfriend. Especially since I started the club. When Gray first introduced me to the idea of BDSM I could still see why it would be good to have someone permanent, ready to provide sexual release whenever it was required instead of having to hunt someone down in the various clubs around the city. But then I started the members-only club, and quickly developed it into somewhere that brought in the best and most delicious subs. A constant rotation of very beautiful and very submissive snacks, ripe for nibbling on. I didn't need anyone permanent then, not when I could take my pick.

Gray and Landon felt a similar way, as did the other friends who came along over time. The Platinum club is now at close to maximum capacity with almost fifty Dominant members, and twice as many subs, numbers which triple again when we take Gold members into account. Over half of the Doms are in long term contracts or relationships, but not me and my friends. Until Gray decided to take up with Liam, of course, out of nowhere. And then had the nerve to be so fucking happy, right up in my face, for almost two years. I'm joking, obviously, but not about the happy thing. Those two were perfect together, and I'm left wondering what went so wrong between them for it to have ended the way it did.

But maybe it was Gray's happiness, that pushed me into something with Ellis. I mean, it was a mistake, clearly; can I even deal with his needs, which are so much bigger than the respectful submissive training I thought was all he needed when we first met? For all my reputation as being strict and demanding, I don't seem to be able to help letting him down when it comes to our life outside the club.

And now, here he is, being punished because I don't seem to be able to get him to behave. Maybe he just doesn't see the value in it. Maybe he really wants me to end things and is trying to push me. But, regardless of my frustrations, I am in no way inclined to do that, so the sexy, adorable, exasperating boy is stuck with me.

I know I'm letting my frustrations go to my head when I pull up my browser and put Wallard in. It's obvious who it is. A tall, impossibly handsome guy, some son of a socialite and a businessman, pictured in the glossy gossip pages regularly, usually with some adorable twink on his arm. Apparently the poster-child for healthy, happy homosexuals, and I fucking hate him on sight. Worse is the fact that, looking into his eyes on one particularly good shot, I would swear that the guy is a Dom. I've no doubt he was after my boy, and Ellis couldn't even show enough respect to me to reject him.

I approach Ellis, see him tense when I get close, hear the whimper. I don't like it. He whimpers all the time, of course; little sounds of sensual desperation, but this isn't that. He's really upset. Maybe even 'safeword' upset, although Gray did remind me that Ellis has never done that. I was proud, thought it indicated something about how good I am at reading my boy, but now I'm not so sure. But there's no real reason for him to be that upset. He did something wrong, he gets punished. That's how it works, and how is has worked, for us.

I haven't decided yet how his punishment will pan out, but the returning thought of Wallard has my ire raising, and I lean into Ellis, gripping his thick hair, using it to pull his head back, exposing his long, delicate throat, which I slide my other hand up, feeling it's velvet softness, the tautness of his tendons, stretched in this arched position.

"You wanted to let another man play with you, Pet?"

"No, Master, why?" His voice is strained from the uncomfortable tension in his body.

"Why would you agree to anything with someone like that, Pet, when you have me?" I am ashamed of how jealous I sound. I should have things like that under control.

"Like what, Master? I don't understand." I only vaguely register the door opening, busy trying to make my boy see sense as he continues to whine.

"I am your Dominant, Pet. I get to decide whether you go to some handsome man's apartment to play piano for him, or play with anything else. Maybe that will be your punishment. I will choose who you play with."

The intruder coughs and I look up to see Gray. Damn. It's later than I realized, and he looks pissed. I'm not in the mood though. What happens between me and my sub has nothing to do with him or anyone else.

"Put your nose against the wall and don't move a muscle until I tell you to," I growl. I'll have to finish my thoughts on his punishment when I've got rid of Gray.

"What's going on this time, Frankie?" That's Gray; always straight to the point.

"He booked a piano playing gig without checking first with me."

"So? That's his job. You've always followed the tenet that we can't mess with the subs' jobs."

"It's not his job, he's still a student. He has no right to make decisions like that without checking with me." I won't have Gray interfering with how I do things with Ellis. He's a good Dom. One of the best. But he's too soft in everyday life, and he isn't in this relationship.

"What the fuck, Frankie? 'No right'? Seriously, you're confusing the hell out of me. I know you've avoided relationships in the past because you didn't want the hassle, but I thought you had it nailed with Ellis. You were so good together. You love his music almost as much as he does. What happened since I've been gone?

"Why are you trying to prevent him living his life? I remember when you first met – you actually told me you loved how full of life he was, how much fun, and what I'm seeing now is that you're turning him into a shell." Merde. I'm taking back my thoughts on him being soft. He's furious – right at me – and that's an uncomfortable feeling.

"You are preventing him from living his life in every way you can think of. You don't let him see his friends, even for extra practice, which would be beneficial to his studying, and now you're stopping him from working. When did what you have turn into such a great need to control him instead of care for him?" He speaks lower, making sure Ellis can't hear him, and I can see the distress in his eyes "And it's not just garden-variety abuse, either, because when you make the punishments relate to his body, like rough fucking, and orgasm withholding, and forced orgasm, all of which I know you use, when you use them in conjunction with physical aggression and control that leaves him in fear, you're turning it into sexual abuse.

"You need to take a long hard look at the way you're doing things here, because at the moment nothing you're doing is about Ellis, it's all about you."

He storms out then, and I'm open mouthed, but not with shock; with horror.

I feel bile rising. He was so right. I'd been about to do something so unthinkable to my boy. Even if he hadn't suffered the way he had when he was younger, being used as a sexual plaything for deeply sickened men, I had been seriously considering passing him to another man to use, without his input or permission. I'm sure my face is green with the sudden knowledge of how wrong I am. Some people play like that, sure – threesomes and more, set-ups, sex-slave roleplay, pseudo kidnappings; all common in the lifestyle – but the key is always consent. And Ellis has never consented to anything like that. Our contract is closed. He only wants sex with me and I only want sex with him – work requirements notwithstanding. And I'd been seriously considering breaking that contract just because of my own fury, caused by my inability to look after my boy.

I go to my bathroom to rinse my face and brush my teeth. I managed not to vomit, but I still had the burning acid in my throat and need to wash it away. I spend some minutes staring at my eyes, which look darker than usual; pained and lost, trying to bring myself back down. I'm not angry anymore; just so, so agonized about how I'm letting Ellis down, more and more, every time we interact.

"You're forgiven, Pet," I tell him when I go back out, hopeful he will simply think his punishment would have been over anyway, that he won't recognize and be repulsed by my weakness. He drops into kneeling waiting by my desk, not saying a word. I can't tell if he's just being a very good boy, or if he's furious at me: that's how poor my ability to read him has been.

I sit at my desk, encouraging him to rest his head on my thigh as I stroke his hair, loving the peaceable expression on his face as he closes his eyes and relaxes into it. His eyes stay closed, and his hands are neatly crossed behind his back, but he's gently rubbing the side of his face against me and making tiny mewling noises. It's distracting when I'm trying to work, but I need distracting right now. I need to own my boy properly once again.

"If you won't sit still, Pet, we'll have to think of something to keep you occupied."

"Whatever my Master wishes," Ellis' words are perfect, but there's something...off. I can't work it out. It's not his eyes, that he briefly glances toward me, the bright blue flashing in ill-concealed desire.

Ellis shuffles between my legs, leaning up now, but awaiting further instruction.

"Suck me, Pet," I instruct him. As expected, he maintains his perfect positioning, arms staying behind his back, leaning forward to use his teeth to pull the buttonhole of my pants until the button pops through and he expertly fastens his lips around the zipper, whirring it down. My cock is already hard and pointing toward my stomach, so it takes little effort for him to catch it between his plump lips, suckling my precum away and fiddling with the leaking slit.

After a few minutes he makes an undisguisable moan of frustration and then yelps, sending vibrations down my increasingly sensitive cock, even with the limited movement he can get when my pants are still around my hips.

"Sorry Master," he pants, pulling slightly back with a fearful aquamarine gaze.

"What's the matter, Pet? Frustrated? Want to suck your Master's cock properly?" I tease. He looks confused for a moment and I'm worried I've misread things again, though he gets a cheeky grin on his face then.

"Yes, Master, I want to give you pleasure, and I can't get to you properly while you're still dressed." We can solve that problem very quickly, and I push my pants down, pulling him back between my knees.

"Show me what you can do, Pet." I lean back and let him work me with his beautiful mouth, his hands still behind his back, sucking and sliding his tongue to create sweet, messy wetness. After letting him have his fun for a while, I take hold of his golden hair, twisting my fingers in the soft strands, pushing his mouth further down my length, groaning as his heat swallows me with practiced ease.

"Such a good Pet," I moan, and I feel the smile before he focuses again on my pleasure. "Relax your throat, Pet, I'm going to fuck it now." I slide further, until I can feel the tautness of the constriction around me. He is good at this, and loves it too – I can see his own cock leaking as it rubs against his toned stomach – moaning around me as I create a fast rhythm with the forced bobbing of his head, pushing up into him at the same time, loving the little choking noises he makes, until I can't hold back anymore and release down his throat.

"Thank you for your cum, Master," he says after, keeping his eyes down. It's the way it should be, but I can't help but miss the way he used to smile up at me after he'd swallowed my load in the past, his blue eyes watering but joyful, and I'd usually pull him up to me, into a warm kiss, tasting myself on him, feeling his strong arms wrap around my shoulders. I don't even know if he would want to do that anymore, he seems to have adapted so fully into the perfect submissive when it comes to our sex life. I sometimes wish he would be less perfect, but then I remember, with a little guilt, some of the punishments I have been giving him when he slips. He was never really one of those subs who would push for punishment, but I've been determined to give him the control he needed to feel safe.

I stand, lifting him so he's seated on the edge of my desk.

"You hard for me, Pet?" I stroke his stiffness firmly, and he whimpers, already close to losing it.

"Yes, Master, please let me come."

"You can come whenever you're ready, Pet," I tell him before leaning to take his perfect smooth length into my mouth, playing with his slit, tasting him. He tastes so good, sweet, with just a hint of saltiness. I swallow him further, and can already feel his balls constricting in pleasure, so I move more roughly, sucking hard, tipping him of the edge until I taste him release into my mouth, moving to kiss him just as hard, sharing his own delicious flavor with him.

A/N: on a separate but connected issue. How do people feel about 'everyone is gay, Dave. Everyone. Is. Gay. Everyone, Dave, is gay'? (and if you get that reference there's a prize in it, like, story related, not cash). I have multiple ideas for other characters already referenced in the universe, but I'm very conscious I'm running hard with 'sexuality is a spectrum, and everyone's at least a bit gay (and into BDSM)' - and am worried that might get annoying in its lack of realism. Thoughts?