To cluudle‘s commissioned continuation of Catch, the story of Gregori and Speed.

Erotic domination, no sex, but nudity.

“There’s a ritual to this.” And the ritual would not only allow him to regain control, it would remind his new Kept exactly what he was stepping into. “Take all of your clothing off. Put it in my laundry hamper.” He gestured lazily behind himself.

“Yes, master.” The boy didn’t look frightened. He didn’t look worried, or even concerned; he looked happy.

Happy would be a nice change, after Damaris’ crying. If it lasted. He stood, arms crossed over his chest, and watched the boy strip. T-shirt. Pants. Tank top under the t-shirt, covering a chest so skinny he could be on a Starving Children poster somewhere. Boxers under the pants, blue silk, revealing an erection nearly as big as the boy.

He was going to be an absolutely entertaining Keeper for someone, if he chose to top next year. Or the year after; Gregori still had two years here.

The socks were the last to go, and then the boy was brushing past him to drop all of his clothes into Gregori’s clothes hamper. “Very good. Kneel where you were standing.” He pointed at the floor in the place he wanted him, just for clarity, and watched the boy fold himself up as if he’d been born to kneel like that, his hands folded perfectly at the small of his back, his eyes on Gregori.

“Very good.” The boy was the hottest thing to slink into Gregori’s life. “You come to me naked, with nothing but your self. Everything you have, from this day until the day I release you, will come from my hands. Everything you give, you will give to me. Everything you are is mine.”

“I come into your hands naked.” Speed couldn’t have seen the ritual; he had to be making it up. He made it up beautifully. “I have nothing to give you but myself, and I give all of that to you. From now until you release me, everything I have is yours, and everything I receive will come from you.” He glanced up at Gregori through a fringe of hair. “And what does it please my master to give me?”

“First, your collar.” He circled the boy’s neck with his hands. He was skinny, skinny enough that Gregori’s hands fit with room to spare. And he shivered beautifully when Gregori pressed his fingers against his throat. “Meentik Unutu με Panida με Eperu kloiós.” He knew what he wanted, so it was easy enough to bring it into existence around his new Kept’s throat. A leather collar, a thick and wide one, with a single large ring dangling in the front and a smaller one pressed against the back of the boy’s neck. A collar with no closure, or, more importantly, no opening. This was not coming off until he wanted it to.

Let Luke chew on that.

“There.” He grabbed the ring in the front and tugged upwards, pulling the boy off his knees. “Now. To do things properly.”

Speed was dangling, not trying to put any weight on his feet. He had been ordered to kneel, after all. “Yes, my master?”

So delicious. Gregori was going to enjoy this one. “Kiss me.”

Next: Bound (LJ)

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