The volume of the party was swelling. Hedeki sought out Taylor above the heads, standing on tippytoes. Hedeki Hiro was a slight man at 5' 7" and 135 lbs. But he had a beautiful face and fine delicate features to compensate. Not too shabby either was the tan on his largest organ, that had been acquired from those weeks last summer spent on his lover's catamaran on the Mediterranean.
Paradoxically, Hedeki's assets did nothing for his self-esteem. The son of Japanese immigrants, restaurateurs with a debt to rival the Mexican balance of payments deficit, Hedeki was in his final year at law school, but he had taken six years to get there. And so he always wondered what he had to offer Taylor.
For Sebastian Taylor Bach was a pedigree son, his good looks, wealth and eligibility well known on the Long Island social circuit, sought after by the paparazzi and the perennial giggly debutante, and chronicled to cliché scales in the local tabloids. His friends, of either _s_e_x_, were scions of moguls on the movie fraternity, rulers of powerful conglomerates and aristocrats on the Wall Street carousel.
Hedeki simply couldn't compete. He always felt he existed in the shadow of these people. And of course, his heart always ached to think about it.
As it was aching even now as he slipped away from the superfluous rigmarole surrounding him and possessed himself of the staircase, sitting on his haunches on the third step.
Still, he would steal glances in Taylor's way, consuming himself with envy and that famous Hiro sense of possessiveness at his lover's talent and ability to draw a crowd to himself.
Hedeki suddenly found himself smiling. He knew he was lucky. While others could only dream wishfully and admire from afar, at least he had Taylor to call his own. They had been together for two years, and the signs were positive that the status would remain.
"He's an attractive man all right," Hedeki thought to himself with pride. He had just sighted Taylor oust another man to claim a handsome starlet's attention, on the strength of his smile alone. But as kisses and tight embraces started to be exchanged, Hedeki's face heated up.
All the secrets and pretenses. How he hated these. And being closeted. He wished for nothing more than normalcy in his relationship with Taylor, to be able to do all the things other couples did, hold hands, kiss openly, make plans and celebrate them by announcing them publicly.
Hedeki cast his eyes on the bottom landing. The gleam on the buttons of his new party suit reminded him of the elation he had felt a little more than twenty-four hours ago when Taylor had surprised him with a large parcel.
"For me?" he asked a smiling Taylor, unaware that the benefactor was as enrapt by the gesture as the beneficiary.
Hedeki quickly tore open the parcel to find a luxuriant black velvet Romeo Gigli suit presented neatly in the beige oblong hollow. It had fitted him as if he had been suited by a personal stylist. Hedeki gushed over the velvet for an eternity while Taylor stripped naked to shower before retiring.
"Why?" Hedeki suddenly asked Taylor in spite of himself. "You know I have a closet full of suits; more than I have days to wear them."
Taylor shrugged, frowning and feeling embarrassed. "I love you," he said, nevertheless confidently. He turned to the bed, crawled under the sheets and killed the light on the nightstand, saying not another word, not goodnight nor sweetest dreams.
Hedeki felt ashamed of himself, certain he had put a damper on Taylor's high moods and the coming party to which they had been invited by its host, Taylor's broker from the stock exchange.
But Hedeki had always had some difficulty accepting Taylor's handouts. It had plenty to do with his low self-esteem that came with the Napoleon syndrome he suffered. Hedeki gripped the space between his eyes with his fingers and squeezed it, sighing. Why couldn't he just accept Taylor's gifts honestly?
That same night, Hedeki was challenged to find any warmth in Taylor's arms as they slept side by side on their bed. He had felt truly punished.
Was Taylor now continuing to punish him for his insensitivity? Hedeki wondered. Was this why Taylor had been ignoring him all evening?
Hedeki continued to study his buttons, and wonder, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"So this is where you're hiding," Taylor said evenly and quietly, sinking his backside on the step beside the younger man. "Is everything okay?"
Hedeki allowed himself to fall back against the wall. His eyes locked onto Taylor's while they studied each other's moods. Hedeki finally took a deep breath and asked: "What am I to you?"
"What sort of a question is that?" Taylor asked, laughing softly.
"I'm serious," Hedeki winced, feeling slightly offended. "What am I to you?"
"What do you want to be?" Taylor asked in reply.
"I want to belong to you," Hedeki said for the hundredth time since they became a pair. Blushing wildly, he stammered: "I do, don't I? Belong to you?"
This was not new to Taylor, the confession, as well as Hedeki's insecurity and need for assurance. Nevertheless touched, he replied: "You know you belong to me. I've told you. What's brought this on?"
"You know," Hedeki said.
Taylor nodded. "You know I can't ... we can't. You know we have to stay closeted. We've talked about it enough."
"Yes," Hedeki snarled, "but you needn't have carried on so with those la-di-da friends of yours, need you?"
Hedeki bit down on his lower lip, ashamed of himself yet again, and got up. He turned toward the front door and disappeared through it. Taylor had not even bothered to stop him.
It was three o'clock in the morning when Taylor quietly crossed the living room of the penthouse he shared with Hedeki. Well, it was his penthouse, bought for him and fully paid up by his parents. But it had been his and Hedeki's penthouse for a long time. Hedeki certainly spent more time in it than he did, what with his busy social schedules. And besides, it had been entirely decorated by Hedeki. Taylor loved what Hedeki had done to the place and the ingenious way he had used the furniture to reproduce the tasteful appeal of Japanese court opulence.
Without turning on the light, Taylor approached the bed where Hedeki was snoring gently. He so adored the way Hedeki slept, always curled up in foetal pose and looking snug as a ladybug. Taylor lowered himself toward Hedeki's head and was about to kiss the bountiful mop of black hair that surmounted it. But Hedeki stirred, opening his eyes. He sat up instantaneously.
"Get into gear, darling," Hedeki ordered, his voice barely a whisper. "You're late."
Taylor appeared to try to evade the command but changed his mind. Once and for all he would prove how much Hedeki meant to him.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he spat back.
Taylor turned to the bureau, opened a drawer and took out the black lycra jock strap, his punishment strap. He held it in his hand and stood facing Hedeki who had already abandoned the warmth of their bed.
"Okay, sweetheart," Hedeki said, putting emphasis on the plagiarized endearment with elaborate mockery, "strip."
Taylor swallowed hard and then removed his coat, jacket and shirt. These he let drop to the floor. He undid his fly next and let his trousers slip to his ankles. He kicked off his loafers and stepped out. He had worn no underwear tonight and so was now pulling his jock strap up his bare hips. In gear for his punishment, he extended his arm to Hedeki. Hedeki sat down on the edge of their bed and spun his slightly older lover round.
"Pull up the strap some more," Hedeki commanded. "Higher. Higher, I said."
Taylor let out a wince to suggest discomfort and Hedeki swung him back round. He soon had the constipated-looking Taylor lying facedown upon his lap.
Hedeki cupped Taylor's freckled bottom cheeks with his smallish hands and kneaded them for a little while as Taylor groaned at the teasing. And then, always unanticipated by Taylor, Hedeki raised his hand high above his head, paused to do a silent count of three seconds before invariably letting his hand pummel the nude flesh beneath it. Always, the first slap would take Taylor by surprise, drawing a loud howl from his lungs.
The spanking went on for the usual half an hour. After that Taylor was let up so that Hedeki could rip off his underwear to bare his private parts and anus completely. For the next half an hour Hedeki ritualistically paddled Taylor's bottom, eventually progressing to the undersides of his thighs. For this, Hedeki forced Taylor to lie on his back, spread apart his thighs and hold them apart by the ankles.
How it all hurt and how Taylor would hate the pain and the hollowness he felt when he would wonder if Hedeki was doing this out of love, or vindication for whatever. For he never knew with certainty when he was being spanked. Hedeki took it so seriously. It showed on his face. He said nothing nor smiled. Taylor always felt insecure for those facial traces of implacability but then that certainly served to even the score for Hedeki. For indeed, why should Hedeki be the only one with insecurities?
Taylor knew it and did not relish it. He knew also the regularity and normalcy of life that Hedeki longed for, but that wasn't something he could give Hedeki. But he knew, too, that submitting to Hedeki made up for a lot of the things he couldn't give him. And if it meant this much to Hedeki, to submit to his spanking him every night, then Taylor would put up with it. It was a small price to pay if it ensured Hedeki remained his possession.
Besides, Hedeki always gave a good _f_u_c_k_ after a spanking and this was well worth the inconvenience of an hour's pain.