Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3

through a conversation about limits is my job. Being there for you when you’re panicked is my job. But when you make me as your boyfriend the thing you panic about, we have a problem. You’re trying to be the boss, to be in charge. You’re taking my job away from me. So this is what you get, babe, for deciding I would be mad at you before you gave me a chance to say anything, for doubting me because of the stories in your head, not because of anything I did. For letting your OCD drive our relationship instead of me. You get what you thought was a good idea really sucks for you. And now I’m going to make it suck even more. Pardon the pun.”
    Adam mewed as Denver withdrew, then moaned in complaint as Denver came at him with something that looked like a tongue depressor. It attached to the lip of the gag and extended almost to the back of Adam’s mouth.
    It completely immobilized his tongue, and he cried out in frustration.
    “Yep. Now all you can do is sit there and let me fuck your mouth. It’s going to get worse too, babe. A lot worse. You wait until I’m in your throat. You wait until you can’t close around me like you love to, how it’s not up to you at all. You thought you were giving up all control, but you weren’t. You had a lot, and you had the illusion of none at the same time. It was just right for you. This is all wrong for you. And that’s why it’s your punishment. I’m going to give you twenty fucks down your throat, and I’m going to count them off because you can’t right now, boy, can you? You’re going to take twenty nasty throat fucks, and then it’s going to be done. You aren’t going to try to tell me how to take care of you anymore, not unless I’m actually doing something wrong. We’re doing this punishment one time, and then we’re never getting this gag out again unless you’re really, really bad. You got it, boy?”
    Adam got it. Saliva dripped down the side of his face, and he nodded at Denver, humbled, humiliated, and horrified at what he’d done. He wanted to be punished. He needed to be punished.
    He needed, needed this to be over, and no, he didn’t ever want to do this again.
    It was exactly what Denver had promised. It was a grotesque parody of an act he loved, and it wasn’t fun at all. The only good part was when Denver closed off his air, because it was familiar and still had the thrill of giving over, but it was a ghost pleasure, a whisper of good in the middle of a whole lot of unpleasant. Adam hated his punishment with everything he had in him.
    But he took it, took it all, and he never looked away from Denver’s face. Because he was going to be a good boy again. Because he needed the release as much as he needed the punishment that preceded it.
    Denver pulled out, unsnapped the gag, and took it away from Adam’s face. “It’s done.”
    Adam sagged forward, shuddering. When Denver kissed him, he kissed back hard, grateful, sorry, relieved. Denver nuzzled his face. “God, baby. Don’t do that again. I don’t know who hated that more, me or you.” He kissed Adam again briefly. “It’s over now, baby. Okay?”
    Adam nodded. It was over.
    Denver stroked his neck. “Tell me what I need to hear.”
    “I’m a good boyfriend.” And I’m going to work like hell to stay that way.
    Denver kissed him on the lips. “Good.”
    Then he pulled out his phone and let Adam watch as he hit SEND on the picture he’d taken of Adam in the open-mouth gag.
    “Now. Let’s get you untied and figure out how we’re going to work out you letting me punish you for mistakes you feel like you make that don’t involve us, if that’s something you’re still wanting to do.”
    Yes, yes it was. Adam nodded, watching his lover as he undid his bonds. Except even after the punishment, another doubt, one deeper and scarier than the panic that had led them here, rose in his mind, and his stomach twisted in knots. He wanted to hide, but he knew he had to voice his concerns out loud.
    “Is . . . is that healthy?” His voice was raw and thick, and it wasn’t just from the throat-fucking.
    Denver stopped untying and met Adam’s gaze. “What do you mean?”
    Be brave. Just ask . “Is it okay to ask you for that?” Is it okay for us to do this at all? Isn’t it wrong, just a little, to like you hurting me so much? Should I let you punish me for things that get tangled in my mental illness?
    Adam felt shame, so much shame. It couldn’t be right to want this. It