Brian was pouting, but he didn't look ready to run.

Not yet, anyway.

Smiling, Sean watched the boy in the reflection of one of the powered-down computer monitors mounted above his desk. Based on the many furious looks he'd been casting in Sean's direction, the boy was unaware of the close observation. It had been over an hour since Sean had turned his back on him, and he'd decided not to so much as glance over his shoulder until Brian broke.

And he would break.

They were in the room that Sean thought of as his office, his favorite place in the house. Opera poured from hidden speakers, and the only light came from a small table lamp and the last of the evening sun, which shone through narrow, stained glass windows. Every inch of wall space not covered by the overflowing bookcases was filled with his photographs. Black and whites, mostly, though there was one spot of color. An extreme close-up of bright green eyes, fringed with thick, tear-dampened dark lashes, looking sleepy and sexy and innocent all at the same time.

Brian's eyes.

Sean could spend hours in this office doing nothing but sitting in his comfortable desk chair staring at that photograph, relaxed and happy.

Usually, he kept their play out of this room, but today he'd made an exception. He had some work to do, and Brian...well...Brian was being punished.

That morning…

Standing in the shadows of the bedroom doorway, Sean waited. For reasons that he couldn't explain, he'd decided to return from a business trip a day early. The red-eye flight had been miserable, compounded by having his luggage temporarily lost, then crawling through morning rush hour traffic. By the time he'd finally gotten home, his annoyance had reached a murderous peak.

Then he'd swung open his bedroom door, and all of it was forgotten.

Brian lay sprawled in the center of the big bed they shared. His naked skin seemed to glow in the early rays of sunlight that filtered in through the sheer curtains. He writhed and tossed his head, strands of hair sticking to his sweat-dampened face. He sucked at the fingers of one hand while the other worked his cock, fast and hard. He moaned loudly, so caught up in his own pleasure that he was oblivious to his audience.

They had a firm rule that Brian was not allowed to touch himself without explicit permission. Though the boy had a tendency to push the limits, Sean knew that this was not a show put on for his benefit. Brian hadn't known he was going to be home, and he'd been hoping to get away with something. This called for punishment, and not the sort that Brian would enjoy.

Sean HAD just gotten in a new set of bamboo canes.

On the bed, Brian's rhythm sped up. He slipped his fingers from his mouth to grip the pillow beneath his head tightly. A cry burst from him and his body arched up from the messy sheets. Sean knew that was only seconds from orgasm.

Deciding that the time had come, he cleared his throat.

Brian's eyes flew open. Seeing him there, he let out a yelp of fright, his impending ecstasy forgotten. He scrambled for something to cover himself with, but Sean moved faster.

Crossing the room in just a few long strides, he leapt onto the bed. Brian tried to scoot away, but Sean caught him by the legs and jerked him back. Straddling his waist, Sean caught both his arms and pinned them easily over his head.

Brian went still immediately, his eyes wide, breath coming in smothered gasps. There was no small amount of fear in his expression, which made Sean smile.

"Hey, baby boy," he said roughly. "I'm home."

"Sean…" Brian swallowed hard when his voice came out with a squeak. "Sean, I…I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow."

"I can see that. What have I told you about touching yourself without permission?"

Brian tried to put on a seductive pout. "Seanie, please…"

"Don't call me 'Seanie'," Sean snapped, tightening his grip on Brian's wrists until the boy whimpered.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sir," Brian said quickly. "I didn't mean to, really. I was just laying here, and thinking about you, and…I just got carried away."

Sean leaned down until their faces were only inches apart, Brian's breath, warm and fluttering, against his mouth. "You didn't answer my question, baby boy. What have I told you about touching yourself without permission?"

"I'm not supposed to."

"That's right. And what happens to boys who break the rules?" Shifting back, Sean used his free hand to brush the damp hair from Brian's face. "Well?"

"They get punished," Brian answered breathlessly.

"That's right. Now the question is, what sort of punishment do you deserve?"

Brian bit at his lip, but there was no hiding the light in his eyes. "Please, please sir, don't spank me. I'm still so sore from the last time…"

"Please don't spank me!" Sean mocked in a high-pitched voice, chuckling and shaking his head. "Don't worry, Brer Rabbit, I have no intention of throwing you into that particular briar patch this time. I have something much better in mind."

Brian's pout was more genuine this time, and Sean leaned down to catch his lower lip between his teeth. The nip quickly turned into a kiss, and soon Brian was moaning once more. When Sean pulled back, Brian tried to lift his head to follow, but with his arms still pinned, he couldn't.

"I'm afraid your punishment is going to have to wait until later," Sean whispered, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. "There's something else you need to do right now."

Looking up at him with eyes filled with playful desire, Brian giggled. "Yes sir."



He looked considerably less happy now.

Brian was sitting on a low stool next to the door, hands folded on his knees, feet together. After some consideration, Sean had dressed him in a frothy butter-yellow dress decorated here and there with dark green bows. His hair was carefully plaited into two thin braids that hung over his shoulders, tied with matching ribbons. He wore lacy white socks and shining patent-leather shoes. To remind him exactly what position he was expected to remain in, lengths of thick black ribbon were tied around his ankles and wrists. It was loose enough that Brian could easily pull free of it, but Sean knew he wouldn't.

Not yet, anyway.

Brian had given him some trouble about sitting on the stool. He was getting used to the dresses, but perching on that little stool, with its flowery embroidered top, knowing that he would be expected to sit still and silent until told differently, that he hated. When Sean had led him in here, carrying the stool with, and ordered him to sit, he'd whined and tried to pull away. As a result, it had been necessary to forcefully put him on the stool, subduing his protests with several deep pinches to the flesh of his inner thighs.

Sean disliked using such cruel incentives, but Brian disliked it even more, and quickly conceded defeat. For a while he'd sat with his head down, sniffling and forcing out a few meager tears at the outrageous treatment. Sean had simply ignored the act, familiar with Brian's theatrics.

Now the boy was sulking, glaring daggers into Sean's back when he wasn't glancing toward the door. Sean knew what he was thinking. He was wondering if he'd be able to get free of the ribbon that tied his ankles and wrists and flee the room before Sean caught up to him. If he could make it to the bedroom and lock the door behind him, his punishment would be over.

They'd played this game before.

The first time Brian had run and actually made it, starting from the living room, Sean had to forcefully rein himself in to keep from breaking the bedroom door down. Although they had never discussed the rules of this particular entertainment, he realized that Brian had beaten him, and it would have been unfair to punish him further for it. Instead, he'd informed Brian through the door that he'd won, and that it wouldn't be held against him.

It had taken Brian over three hours to emerge from the bedroom, and even then, he'd been shocked to find Sean in the kitchen, making dinner for them without a trace of anger at his obvious disobedience. Since then, he almost always ran. He'd escaped once or twice more, but more often than not, Sean took him down before he got more than a few steps.

Then, of course, Sean got to celebrate his victory, which was why he continued to play. He liked a challenge, but he liked winning even more.

In the reflection, Sean saw Brian beginning to squirm a little, twisting his wrists back and forth to loosen the ribbon around them. He made no move to stop him. They were further away from the bedroom than usual, after all, and the office door was half closed. It would be only fair to give Brian a head start.

Sean was having a hard time keeping the smile off his face by the time he saw Brian slip a hand free and reach down to tug at the ribbon around his ankles.

Let the games begin.

THE END