Chosen Boy [7] bxb Bdsm

Twenty Six

By the time I pulled into their driveway I was a nervous wreck. What had I been thinking? Talking to Kevin, about this? About anything? I mean, it's not like he was mean to me and every now and then he seemed to warm up but this was going to put me on his shitlist permanently. Oh well, I'd try. I just hoped that it didn't make things worse for Ollie. That was my biggest fear.

"Hey Chris, come in." Kevin stepped back and let me through.

Ollie was nowhere in sight. "Is Ollie here?"

"He's in his room. I assumed this needed to be a private conversation. Would you like something to drink?"

"How much vodka do you have on hand?" I teased. "Sorry Sir Kevin, nothing. Um, wait, water?" It would give me something to do with my hands.

"You're making me nervous. Sit down." He brought me over a glass and I sipped it gratefully. "What's going on?"

"I want to apologize ahead of time if I shouldn't be here. Trust me, I know this is really, really borderline stupid but I love Ollie and... but please don't be mad at him because of me, promise?"

"I'm very rarely mad at Ollie at all and certainly never over other people's actions. Is this about the conversation Greg overheard? About our play?"

"Yes." I wasn't sure he had heard me, it was almost a whisper.

"We've discussed it, Chris. It's really not your concern."

"I know. I do. Trust me, I am really, really not sure why I'm here except that, is there anything you can do? Maybe there's some other way? I um..." Wow, saying some things out loud was really difficult even with people who wouldn't think anything of it. If you can't talk about scening with a Dom psychiatrist, who can you with? Right? "So I got paddled last night and it was the first time we'd really played since the accident and I had no idea how much of a disaster I'd been until that need and the stress that goes with it was gone. And Ollie needs it more than me, he's... he's so stressed and missing you and he NEEDS something."

"I'm doing my best."

"But why won't you? I know I shouldn't ask but I just don't understand. If you want it and he wants it then..." he was going to answer but I didn't give him a chance "and the problem is that HE doesn't understand because if he did he would NEVER say a word to me about it Sir, right? If he at least knew it would make things better."

"He's my boy and well, Chris, the thing is that I don't quite know. I haven't been able to quite work it out in my head except that it feels wrong to hurt him. And don't think that we haven't done anything; he's certainly had a paddling. But returning to our prior level has been hard for me. I can't quite seem to get there. So you see, I can't explain it to him because I don't know." He didn't look angry, more tired.

"I certainly understand that. I'm the queen of not knowing what the hell is going on in my head. But Sir? I've been thinking about it more than I want to and I wonder if maybe you're scared? Because of the hospital and him getting sick and maybe the whole pneumonia thing sort of brought into focus things that we'd all rather not see?"

"I'm sure that's at least partly true."

"But the thing is, by not scening with him you're forcing him to keep seeing it. He feels fine and he KNOWS that he may not for much longer. I mean, God hopefully he'll be fine ten years from now but he doesn't have the liberty of ignoring it like we do. Not that you do, I'm... sorry."

"Don't be sorry, get your thoughts out. I'm all ears."

"So you're, in a sense, stealing time from him. I'm not accusing you, I'm just..."