John and his mother didn't talk about Rodney. In fact, after their first initial discussions about the Establishment, that summer was lot like any summer John had spent with her. Well, aside from the fact that he was fucking one of her staff.
Rodney was the one who told John how things worked, explained he could and couldn't spend time with John. He also explained how discipline worked too and John was glad when he learned that the housekeeper and not his mom had been responsible for those welts on Rodney's ass.
"Ms. Clara has a very heavy hand," Rodney said.
Rodney's matter-of-fact attitude was one of the weirder things about the situation.
The best thing about the situation was that John could have sex almost any time he wanted to. Sure, Rodney was responsible for the shopping and errand running, but, as John discovered when they took his BMW out one day, there was a lot a trained sex slave could to do to make shopping a lot more interesting.
A trained sex slave.
There were times when John still boggled at the very idea of it. And then there were times when it was clearly the best idea in the history of ideas. Because it wasn't just that Rodney would do whatever John told him to--although he would--it was that he knew to do things John didn't even know he wanted.
"You know," he said one night, when he came into John's room one night after dinner. He dropped easily to his knees as the door closed. "You can hurt me even if I'm behaving. If you want to, of course."
"God," John said, staring at him. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Rodney wanted it, but then he figured that a) Rodney would hardly have brought it up if he didn't, and b) it didn't really matter what Rodney wanted. "Yeah, I do. But...."
"Check the closet," Rodney said. "On the right side in the back."
The box that hadn't been there just last week earlier had a number of things in it, so many that John felt a little overwhelmed. He almost turned to Rodney to get him to choose, but then he stopped himself. Pulling out a black leather paddle, he smiled and moved to sit on the bed.
"Drop your pants and come here." As Rodney obeyed, John wondered when he became this guy who could say things in such a steady voice. And then Rodney's naked ass was right there and it seemed so natural to lift the paddle and bring it down hard.
Rodney gave a little moaning sigh and John suddenly wanted more, a lot more. "I'm going to do this," he said, emphasizing his words with hard slaps of the paddle. "And I'm going to keep doing until your ass is burning and you fucking cry for me."
There was a moment when he was sure he'd gone too far and then.... Then Rodney raised his ass just a little and John slammed the paddle down again and again, watching as Rodney's ass got redder and redder. He could feel Rodney's dick, pressing hard and damp against his jeans, and his own erection was almost painful.
Rodney's noises changed, going from soft moans to deeper heartfelt groans. John was so caught up in what he was doing that it took him a minute to actually hear Rodney when Rodney began speaking.
"Please...oh God please...hurts...please don't stop...please Sir...oh please...." Rodney's voice broke and then he was crying, his whole body going loose and moving with the rhythm of the paddle in John's hand.
"God," John breathed, letting the paddle fall to the floor. "Ride me," he said, pushing back on the bed.
Rodney got John out of his jeans and slapped a condom on him so fast it made John's head spin. By the time he could really grasp what was going on, Rodney was sliding down over John's dick, biting his lip and gasping.
"Oh fuck," John moaned, pushing up with all his strength. Rodney moved down to meet John's rhythm perfectly and just before he came, John wondered if, after Rodney, he'd ever be able to have sex with someone normal.