Snowbound Season 2 - Episode 4

Snowbound Season 2 - Episode 4

Winter - The Afternoon

By Korusialhogi and Natasha

John didn't manage to open the door fully when he ended up with an armful of distraught looking Rick.

"You can't punish him," Rick blurted out as soon as he hit John's chest. "You have no right to do it. He was exercising his freedom of speech, and he doesn't even belong to you." Rick finished his verbal fire finally drawing in a breath.

John raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Rick. Of course his boy wouldn't allow a judgment to be passed and punishment to be carried out without representing the perceived defendant. Understanding Rick's instincts didn't mean he was about to allow Rick to run amok.

"Now you're telling me what I can and cannot do?"

"But it's not right," Rick insisted frenetically. "He's…"

Johnny pressed two fingers to Rick's lips.

"Silence! Sheldon." He turned to look at the redhead who was holding a perfect pose despite the commotion. "Go find Gordon, I'll take care of this."

"Yes, sir." With a curt nod the boy left.

"Sit!" John turned to look at Rick with a barked order.

"Sit where?" Rick looked around in the hallway.

John held Rick’s eyes, demanding obedience.

"Fine," Rick said flippantly, trying to push past Johnny and into the study.

John grabbed him by his arm and held him on the spot. "I said sit! I didn't say find a seat or grab a chair," he said with chill in his voice.

"On the floor?" Rick looked incredulous. "In the middle of the hallway?"

Johnny just kept looking at him, not saying anything, but not letting his arm go.

"You can't be serious," Rick said exasperated. "I'm not a dog!" he almost screamed.

Johnny kept his stance, not moving, not talking.

"Fine!" Rick finally said and dropped down, sitting on the floor with his feet crossed.

Johnny squatted in front of him and studied him for a while. "Wouldn't it have been easier if you had just done so immediately? Wouldn't it have made you feel better, if you’d obeyed me without argument?" John asked, looking at Rick's miserable face.

 Rick shrugged.

"I thought we had an understanding that you were going to give it a try. Obeying me without arguments," John clarified.

"You were going to beat him," Rick said empathically. "It wasn't fair," he insisted.

"Rick, Sheldon is an experienced submissive. He knew that if he really wanted out of it, all he had to do was safeword. No one was doing anything to Sheldon without his consent. Do you trust me that little? You think I would have done such a monstrosity as to abuse a defenseless man?"

Rick blanched at John's words. "No," he shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no, no," he scrambled up to his knees and gathered John's face into his hands.

"Than what was that all about?"

Rick's beautiful green eyes filled with fat tears. "It was my fault. Sheldon said I ruined it and then he was in trouble for speaking his mind. That wasn’t fair," Rick mumbled, hanging up his head.

"In other words it wasn’t fair that Sheldon was going to get his bottom warmed by me, while you were banished upstairs," John concluded. "So you were basically jealous," he said, smiling amusedly.

"What?" Rick's head shot up. "I was not jealous!" he insisted. "And for your information," Rick stated vehemently, "I'm very good at improvising, I just didn't know you were playing one of your stupid games," Rick said, leaping to his feet, intent on making a grand exit.

John grabbed Rick by the waist of his pants and pulled him down. Flipping him over his lap, he started to rain down swats on a frantically struggling Rick's behind.

"You know there are ways of doing this without so much drama." Johnny talked calmly, while his hand kept descending on the upturned bottom. "Ways that Gordon was trying to demonstrate just now: a simple scene, cute and nice, nothing heavy-duty. But no, you need to make this hard for everybody. Fine, I'm not complaining. I'll play this game, until you’re be ready to ask for what you want in a civilized manner, as opposed to coming off like a rabid animal." John continued to swat Rick in complete silence. The echoing sound of the slaps was the only disturbance to the tranquility of the corridors.

Rick begged and cried, but Johnny kept on going. After several minutes he turned Rick right way up and set him forcefully on the floor in front of him.

"Now, let's try this again," John said, wiping Rick's tearstained face. "What do you do when I tell you to do something?"

"I don't submit to you. I submit only when it suits me!" Rick said with force, throwing John off for a second. 

After an initial confusion John remembered Sheldon's words. "Don't change the subject, Rick. The poor little victimized boy act will not work with me," John said coldly.

"I don't even want to be here," Rick screamed and attempted to get up.

"Rick, stay put, until I tell you can get up," John said with clear warning in his voice.

Immediately Rick struggled to get up. John pushed him down and put his hands on Rick's shoulders to hold him down. Rick turned his head to the side and tried to bite Johnny. John pulled his hand away and growled at Rick.     

"Do it again and I'll slap you."

Rick's response was instant; his teeth dug into John's hand. Johnny waited for Rick to let go of his flesh then calmly slapped Rick's cheek, putting little force behind the strike, just enough to sting.

"The next one will be harder," John warned serenely.

This time John pulled his hand away before Rick could manage to bite him. The slap was harder as promised, extracting a yelp from Rick and a downfall of tears.

"Rick, when I clearly tell you what the consequences of an action will be and you go ahead and do it, I assume you you want the consequences," Johnny explained calmly. "So are you saying you want me to slap you?"

"I didn't say any such thing," Rick insisted, sniffing lightly.

Johnny looked at Rick amused. "Really?"

Rick made another attempt at biting John. The slap was even harder this time.

"I'll take that as a yes," Johnny said after a second. "Even you wouldn't deny the obvious."

"I'm a lawyer, I'm professionally trained to deny the obvious," Rick retorted smartly.

John shook his head, smiling at Rick gently. "You would have made a great spook, in case of capture and interrogation you would have driven your interrogators to suicide."

Rick dared a shy grin and a short look at Johnny. "Sheldon would have allowed you to beat him," Rick whispered all of a sudden, clear wonderment in his voice.

"He had insulted me by speaking out of turn and attacking my boy. That means he had disgraced his dominant. It is always a punishable offense. I have punished you for the same offense." John grabbed Rick's chin and looked at Rick. "Sheldon knew what was coming when he opened his mouth. He’d wanted the consequences, maybe not from me, but he’d wanted to be taken down."

"Would you allow someone else to punish me?" Rick squeaked horrified.

"Arthur had punished you," Johnny reminded him.

"It's different and I hated it," Rick cried out.

"Punishments are hardly something to be enjoyed, but to answer your question probably not at this point," Johnny said, holding a hand up when he sensed Rick ready to speak. "Rick, for now, I want you to concentrate on the easy things. Don't scare yourself with future scenarios or things that seem impossibly hard for you. Baby steps will do." He leaned forward and captured Rick's lips in a lazy kiss. "Stay here for ten minutes. I'll be in the study."

"Yes, sir," Rick said obediently. "Someone might see me, though," Ricky said, worrying his lips between his teeth.

"So?" Johnny asked pointedly.

"Nothing," Rick bent his head down, "I'll obey."

"Johnny?" Rick said after a while. "Could we un-ruin what I ruined? Sheldon wanted to play," Rick asked, playing with the hem of his shirt.

Johnny bent down and kissed his forehead. "We sure can. Now obey me."

"Yes, sir."  

****

“Sheldon?” Gordon’s dark eyes rested unblinking on Sheldon. His entire attention appeared focused on Sheldon despite the noise from the hall. Rick never did anything quietly. For a man, who protested his status as a submissive and fought everything about it, he sure went for public spectacles.

“John, told me to have you do it, sir.”

“He probably only has enough energy for one maniac,” Landon said fondly from the sofa where he was sprawled out in a very young man’s heap with no concern to his dignity or his age. “At least the screeching’s stopped. The sound of spanking can be lulling.”

Gordon and Landon’s rooms were at the far end of the corridor, but even here the faint echo of powerful slaps rumbled in the distance. They were slowing now, maybe starting to lose some force.

Gordon nodded once. “Come.” He wrapped an arm around Sheldon and marched him back down the fall toward the source of the noise. 

Sheldon could hear choked sobs and the murmur of quiet words. Rick was sitting in the hall, his beautiful face marred by a rivulet of tears on his cheeks. His eyes, vast green pools, glistened with fresh tears. His eyes rose to meet the approaching men, and a flush darkened his cheeks, Sheldon watched fascinated as Rick’s eyes changed from the quiet aftermath of tears toward shock and then blazing emerald anger. Rick leapt to his feet and searched for a posture of control and power.

“I am positive, lad, that your were asked to sit,” Gordon said quietly in his most paternal tone.

Sheldon watched in horror and fascination as Rick detonated. His hands came to his hips, his shoulders squared, and his eyes narrowed to green sparks of hate. At close range the noise was deafening: a screech, a battle cry of a warrior armed with only a spear against a man with a machine gun, the desperate roar of a cornered tiger.

“Lad,” Gordon said calmly, “this is not acceptable behavior in my house. You are a guest of the Green Mountain Boys; you are a submissive. This behavior is not acceptable.”

“I am not a Green Mountain Boy,” Rick said in a haughty tone. “You have no rights over me. You have no authority over me.”

“I would hope, young man, that you would have respect for your host in any situation, however proper manners are often sadly lacking in today’s young people.”

“And it’s proper manners to threaten to beat your guests. Where did you buy your etiquette book?”

“Boy, I never suggested beating you. Is that what you desire? Is that what you need to experience? You have been in some unfortunate limbo of a boy surrounded by Green Mountain Boys, but prevented from full inclusion. Very well, you have a choice, my dear boy. You can remain an outsider, an observer, but there will be no more outbursts of any sort, or I will take the next outburst as your full and informed consent to handle you as a young and untrained Green Mountain Boy submissive. John, you understand the terms, Make sure you both understand the consequences. This requires trust. I have trusted you; now you must decide if you can trust us.”

John was leaning against the doorframe of the study. He was trying to look casual, but Sheldon could see the pulse throbbing in his neck and the tight clench of his jaw.

“You can’t let him touch me.” Rick retreated toward John. “You have no right to beat me. I haven’t given you permission, and John doesn’t share.”

“He removed my right to refuse.” John’s voice was clipped and hard. He wrapped an arm around Rick and pulled him close.

“I asked you to demonstrate trust. It is both your choice. I can do no more to demonstrate our trustworthiness. Now you must decide, John. He’s your boy.”

John’s arm was tight around Rick, as if Rick were as much his shield as he was Rick’s. He said no words. Somewhere a grandfather clock chimed the hour. A window rattled in the wind.

“You negotiate for blood,” John said, his voice calm and flat and devoid of all warmth.

“You were warned. Landon and I have not hidden who we are.”

“John, may I offer my assistance, sir.” Sheldon didn’t remember making the decision to kneel at John’s feet with his head pressed to John’s boots. He only knew that he was here now and that he had hated the barely contained sparks between the two dominants. He was co-head of the Green Mountain Boys; he needed to make this work.

“Get up.” John pulled Sheldon roughly to his feet.

“John, please. Sir.”

“Speak your damn mind. You are not by nature a sniveling sycophant.”

“I am by nature a slave which requires a certain decorum in my behavior, sir.” Sheldon clasped his hands behind his back and spread his feet, but looked John directly in the eye. “I’ve made my choices, and I live by them happily. I am Milton’s property; my rights are only what he grants me. What is Rick? Is he your full time submissive? Do you accept that you’re a full time dominant and all the hardness and unfairness that entails. It’s no longer about the beatings. It’s about what color tie Rick wears to the office and where you go for vacation and when Rick puts his work aside and becomes your boy. It’s about all the places you don’t want to go and your boy desperately needs. Why do you think he acts like a flipping idiot every two minutes? He’s telling you the only way he’s capable right now. I need what those guys got: rules and order and somebody telling them what to eat for breakfast. I need to know it’s OK to be that way. Rick can’t put that into words yet. It took me forever and a half to learn to say it. Milton needs the distinguished service cross with canes and a cluster of paddles for living through my idiocy. I survived the hell because I had the tolerance and understanding and the rules of the Green Mountain Boys. I knew where I stood if I tossed the breadbasket at dinner or planted myself in my room and screamed about wearing a tie. Quit now, boy. No confusion. No doubt. No choice.”

“Sheldon.” Gordon clicked his fingers and pointed at the ground near his feet. Sheldon gave Gordon a long look before moving into place and dropping to his knees. “Boy, you hesitated.”

“Yes, sir,” Sheldon said softly. 

“Are you going to punish him for that also?” Rick shouted.

“Shut up, boy.” John clamped his hand over Rick’s mouth. Rick squirmed and kicked and in all ways went berserk. 

Sheldon could only stare at Rick as he ineffectually launched himself at John. It was a one-sided battle easily won by John. Rick was at John’s feet crying harshly.

“John.” Gordon’s voice cut through the sobs. “I believe Rick has answered the question.”

“He has.” 

“Rick, stand up and put your hands on the wall for me,” Gordon said.

Rick stood. He wiped his face with his sleeve. He faced the wall. Gordon was calm and quiet as he placed Rick’s hands on the wall and spread his feet. The strokes of the nursery cane were quick and not brutal, soft promises or signatures on an understanding, not true punishment, only three over the tight fabric of Rick’s jeans.

“John, take your boy. Sheldon and I have business.” Gordon reached for Sheldon’s elbow and pulled him to his feet. He guided Sheldon into the study and shut the door with a firm click. “Now are you going to be that much trouble?” Gordon asked with a warm smile. “If you are, I’m bringing in Milton by helicopter. I’m too old for such dramatics. Now over my knee boy.”

Sheldon grinned impishly and beat his chest. “I can scream louder,” he sang.

“Boy,” Gordon growled, not able to keep the laughter from his voice. “Drop those pants, or I’ll find a very good use for this nursery cane.

“Yes, sir.” Sheldon scrambled out of his pants and flew over Gordon’s knee. A real caning from Gordon was not a treat. 

“Someone misses his master,” Gordon said gently as the first smack landed on Sheldon’s unmarked skin.

Sheldon rolled and bucked and enjoyed the heat rising in his skin. He clung to the sofa cushion and buried his eyes as the warm glow pressed onward into painful territory. The first tears were quiet, but soon the swats and the cries mingled in a cacophony of noise. The sting of the cane tore a yell from Sheldon’s throat, a single crisp line of fire.

“Good boy.” Gordon’s hand was warm and soothing at it stroked Sheldon’s back. “Rest and enjoy. We might avoid our terrorist houseguests until dinner.”

****

"Lord," Arthur groaned as soon as their room door closed behind them. "Johnny must be presented for sainthood, for sure. Sheldon might have chosen a slightly inappropriate way of putting things, but Rick is making me dizzy with his mood swings." Arthur pulled Gregory in for a kiss. "Thank God for a good boy like you, my precious," Arthur said, smiling at Gregory who folded himself to fit perfectly against Arthur's chest. "I honestly don't know how John is doing it. I would have beaten Rick several times a day, on principle."

"Master," Gregory murmured submissively, "allow me to serve you, please?"

Arthur held his slave's eye for a long second, smiling fondly at his boy. Gregory could read him so well. His boy knew he was on the edge.

He really did wonder how John was handling it all with no soothing balm of his boy's submission. Arthur was a man confident in his dominance and his control over his own darker urges, but Rick managed to push him into a place where holding such urges at bay was becoming exponentially hard. Arthur liked the boy, he really did, but Rick was not easy to deal with, even if his defiance was not directed at Arthur. Arthur lived in the real world; he understood that there would be challenges to his authority, and he was capable of dealing with those. He never expected people to fold to his will, but he expected his sub to do so. Essentially dominants were people with cravings that could not be safely satisfied in modern society so they needed the gift of submission freely given to help them contain their own demons. That is why defiance from one's submissive was far harder to deal with than anything thrown from outside of the relationship. That is why John's ability to keep his head clear and remain a decent human being with Rick as his submissive was just miraculous. And Johnny doubted himself, Arthur thought with wonderment. If there ever was a safe dominant, it was John. He had such tight control over his own darkness that it was a wonder sometimes. For all his experience, Arthur doubted he would have been able to deal with Rick without endangering his own sanity or Rick's physical integrity. Rick was doing quite the opposite of what a submissive was meant to do for his dominant; instead of soothing him, he was detonating him.

Arthur watched his boy with utter love. Only the slightest of nods and a light closing of eyes and Gregory set off on the task of servicing his master, soothing his revolting beast.

Gregory reached for Arthur's jacket, but hesitated, awaiting orders.

"Strip first," Arthur ordered hoarsely. "You know I enjoy the sight of a naked boy when he serves me."

 Gregory was as efficient as ever. He stripped fast, yet as gracefully as any exotic dancer. Soon he was standing bare, covered only in the bindings of the leather straps that incased his torso like a corset. The black leather was biting into the creamy flesh; the skin underneath it looking reddened and slightly chaffed. Arthur had put the bindings on Gregory that morning as means of anchoring his boy. His beautiful boy never did well around Gordon and Landon, so Arthur had offered him a symbolic encirclement in his power. He hadn't counted on the bindings remaining on for so long. They were supposed to stay for the duration of breakfast, but Gordon had made other plans. Arthur had asked Gregory if he needed to change, as the boys were being lead by Landon to their skiing adventure. Gregory had said no; his poor boy had needed Arthur's dominance to be palpable around him, if Arthur was not going to be physically there. Due to Arthur's work, they spent enough time separated to know how to function while they were away from each other. The symbolism of collars, piercings and bindings were essential for them.      

"Present," he ordered smoothly ,and Gregory knelt before him, knees wide, back straight, head bent submissively.

Arthur circled Gregory once and then loosened the bindings, taking them off. His fingers traced over the marks left by the supple leather.

"Beautiful," Arthur murmured, bending down to kiss Greg's shoulder.

He came to stand in front of Gregory once more and squared his shoulders, towering over his boy. Gregory took it as his cue. He stood up and started to take off Arthur's clothes and his boots. When he was done, he guided Arthur to the bathroom and started the shower.

Arthur took his gorgeous slave in his arms and kissed his forehead. "How horrible was it, boy?" He asked, knowing Gregory didn't need any elaboration. "You still feel frozen," he smiled at his boy, cupping his cold cheek.

"It was not that bad, Master," Gregory answered gently. "Once Rick and Landon were done changing personalities like models change garments on a fashion show, we actually had fun. And it's not as horribly freezing outside when you are a part of human bundle." Gregory smiled shyly at Arthur.

Arthur's heart soared with love at the sight of surrender and mildness in Gregory's eyes. How fortunate he was to have Gregory.   

"Come, my beautiful boy," Arthur extended his hand to Gregory as he entered the shower.

His boy washed him carefully and lovingly. Once they were done, they headed back to their room, where Arthur sat on the bed while Gregory sat at his feet. Pulling one of Arthur's legs onto his bent knee Gregory started to massage the sole of his foot and his ankle. He bent his head against Arthur's leg, letting his head fall down from time to time, to kiss Arthur's foot with reverence and adoration.

After a while Arthur pulled Gregory to his feet. "Enough gorgeous. Let me admire your beauty." Arthur looked at his boy, standing tall, with his hands clasped at his back, head straight, eyes down. He was a stunning boy.

He touched the small golden rings on his boy's nipples, tugging them down slightly. His hand traveled down, patting the flat belly of his boy, until it reached his cock and gave it a squeeze. His fingers delved behind the full sack of his slave and played with the hidden ring there.

"What would you like, gorgeous," Arthur asked, still playing with his boy's sack.

Gregory swallowed visibly and fixed his eyes on Arthur. "The crop, Sir," Gregory said softly.

Arthur gave a curt nod and stood up. "Lie on your back. Keep yourself open for me," he instructed.

His slave complied, pulling his knees to his chest and keeping them open with his hands. Arthur took his boy's penis into his hand once more and bent it backwards. Using the metal ring sticking out from the head of his cock, he locked the ring with the one hiding behind his sack, preventing any chance of erection for his boy. Gregory whimpered and closed his eyes. Arthur could see his boy's body getting covered in a thin film of sweat, his belly trembling with the powerful beats of his heart. Arthur bent down to lick the sweat off his abdomen and then turned his boy onto his belly, his boy's hands still clutching tightly at the flesh of his knees.  

"Gorgeous! No moving now," he said admiring his slave's pert bottom sticking in the air, a clear invitation for his marks.

Arthur left his gorgeous slave sprawled on the bed to retrieve the crop. They both were ready to fly.

"You feeling any better, Master?" Gregory asked once they both regained their breath.

Arthur gathered his boy's face in his hands and kissed him languidly. "Perfect, my boy."

He let his fingers play with the hot lines on his boy's ass, pressing closer to Gregory, enjoying the feeling of sticky wetness of his boy's release between them, as his finger's thrust into well used and wet opening of his slave. He had surprised Gregory by releasing him from the chastity binding and letting him come while he took him from behind. His boy had not expected to be granted permission to come once the piercings were connected together. It was always fun to surprise one's slave, Arthur thought, smiling to himself.

"Johnny needs to stop warring about his dominance or it will tear them apart," Gregory said eventually, bestowing gentle kisses to Arthur's bare chest. 

His boy knew Arthur well enough, to understand that the matter of his troublesome charge was hardly off his mind, even if his beautiful slave had managed to calm his storming mind.

"Umm," Arthur conceded, playing with Greg's hair. "He also needs to accept the fact that his dominance needs to bleed into their everyday life."

"Johnny has always been better at arbitrary dominance than at rationalized dominance," Gregory said, inhaling Arthur's scent.

"How do you mean?"

"When he would dominate me," Gregory explained, resting his chin on Arthur's chest. "I mean when you were away and he would be around and would need to take care of the everyday part of dominance rather than simple play, he would always struggle when giving me my daily orders. I would practically have to beg him to give me my clothes, decide on my breakfast, give me orders for lunch and so on. But he relished the small gestures of dominance that where absolutely arbitrary and had no tangency with my essentials. He would order me to do something of no real importance at a given time. He would tell me to clap my hands at twelve o'clock noon or would call me to ask where I was and if I was in a crowded place he would order me to kneel, stand at attention and such. I was getting quite skilled at finding ingenious ways of doing these little tasks without people realizing what I was doing."

 Arthur felt rather than saw the grin. "You enjoyed it," Arthur said with amusement in his voice.

"It was nice," Gregory conceded.  "But the struggle to get what I really needed was too big for me. I always felt at loss without you." Gregory's eyes hazed with tears, and Arthur's own heart leapt unpleasantly at the memory of separation.

"I'm here now, let's not dwell over it," he pulled Gregory's head to his chest and kissed the top of his hair. "Now if we could just make those two see reason and stop driving everyone mad…" Arthur trailed off without finishing.

"They will, eventually. Johnny had always been stubborn, which is a problem in itself, but it also means he will eventually get Rick were he wants. For that he will have to give up on his own insecurities, and nothing motivates John better than a promise of conquest."

Arthur gave Gregory another kiss.

"You've always been fond of the boy."

"He is hard not to love. Besides, you brought him to me to be loved and accepted. I would have never denied you that right."

His boy, Arthur thought fondly; his incredible and gorgeous boy. Since the day Arthur had met John all he had wanted for the lost teenager was for Johnny to find his own boy, who would soothe the powerful storm of his soul. Rick seemed to raise a tsunami where the familiar storm used to be, but maybe that was necessary to eventually get them to calmness.