Hey friends! Ready for today’s treat?

I cut this from A Collar for His Brat for reasons. It starts at the end of that kink party Nate takes Ewan  to (the one at Mistress Celestina’s with the orgy and the puppies and the jello paddling pool, not the one with the tea party). If you recall, Nate has just had sex with Ewan against a wall and then asked him if he wanted to walk around the party with a plug in his butt 😀

Enjoy!

Interrupt (A Collar for His Brat #5) Deleted Scene

Kink, Ewan thought, was at its core psychological. If it was dirty, naughty, humiliating, or taboo, then it was probably a kind of kink. Things that looked vanilla could be deeply kinky if they were somehow taboo to the person doing them. That was how things got fetishized, after all.

But the reverse of that was kinky things becoming somehow less kinky when they were treated as normal.

For instance, all the exposed skin at this party? Barely kinky at all. If Nate had told Ewan to strip right then, it wouldn’t have been the nudity that humiliated him. No, right now the humiliating thing was hidden beneath his clothes. He could feel it move inside him as he walked, this constant reminder of Nate’s cock driving into him. It made him feel possessed–in a very literal sense, both belonging to Nate and invaded by him, under his control.

Was this how Channon felt? Ewan didn’t know why he cared, but he did. Channon worshipped his Dom, almost 24/7. Ewan…didn’t. Except sometimes, when he felt intensely subby. Or when Nate put him into a space where he no longer had control over himself. But Channon seemed to live in his submission in a way Ewan didn’t think he could.

Did he even want that? Should he?

Nate flattened a palm on Ewan’s belly, pulling him in until they were back-to-chest. “There’s flogging,” he murmured in Ewan’s ear. “Wanna see?”

Ewan nodded, clenching around the plug inside him. He let Nate push him through a doorway out to the atrium. Half a dozen puppies were playing on a large padded mat, and on the other side of the glassed-in space, a large wooden frame had been set up. Someone was already cuffed to it. It took Ewan a second to realise that he knew them.

“What about him?” he asked.

Nate peered. “Nope. You?”

“He’s a sub,” Ewan scoffed. “When would I?”

“I don’t know, you might have played with another sub.” When all Ewan did was scowl, Nate chuckled low in his ear. “No? Would you like to?”

Ewan’s face scrunched up. His immediate response was ‘no’, but…”I don’t know,” he said.

Nate didn’t push, just wrapped himself around Ewan’s shoulders, resting his chin on the top of Ewan’s head. Ewan let himself be cuddled, watching as the man with the flogger began trailing it over the sub’s back.

It started easily enough, a typical warm up. The first hard lash was exactly that, hard, a bit on the rough side for a first round. The sub let out a gasp, his head jerking back. Ewan saw the guy with the flogger check in, and go back for a second.

Still hard. Ewan prefered more warm up than that, himself, but that was because when Nate flogged him? It took all night. Nate hit him harder than anyone had ever hit him before, and the way he did it made Ewan’s bones melt, his whole self just dissolving under the onslaught. Nate turned him to gibbering goo, and then, if he was lucky, Nate fucked him into the mattress while he was too out of it to speak.

This wasn’t going to be that kind of scene, he could tell at once. He could also tell that the sub wasn’t having a great time. So could the guy with the flogger; he checked in again, got a nod and a colour in return, and went back, softer this time, a breather between rounds.

But when he came in hard again, the sub let out a high-pitched noise and said, “Red!”

Everything happened very quickly. The Dom stopped, putting down the flogger and coming in to ask what was wrong. Then he had the sub out of his bonds and was sitting him down on a bench. One of the Academy’s dungeon monitors (dressed like a French Maid, for some reason) came forward to check in, and offered the sub some water.

The sub looked distressed. They wrapped him in a blanket. Someone offered him watermelon chunks. Still, he looked distressed, and Ewan’s hands tightened into fists as he realised that all the people in a circle surrounding him were Doms, leaning into his space as he tried to catch his breath.

No. Ewan unwrapped himself from Nate’s arms. “I have to–” he said, but he didn’t know how to explain.

Except he didn’t need to. “Go on,” Nate told him, smiling indulgently. Ewan breathed out, relieved, and pushed his way into the small crowd.

“Hey! Tig!”

The sub looked up, his expression clearing. “Mac!” He offered Ewan a wobbly smile. “Can you tell them I’m fine? No-one believes me.”

Of course they didn’t. Doms, he thought. Always thinking they knew best.

“You wanna back up and give the lad some room?” Ewan demanded.

It made Tig laugh, weak and shaky, but still a genuine laugh. “Oh my God, you’re the same age as me.”

Begrudgingly, the unwanted well-wishers pulled away, until it was just Ewan and Tig and the guy who’d been trying to administer a flogging. Ewan didn’t know him, but he seemed decent enough. He didn’t seem convinced, however, when Tig insisted he was fine.

“I just…I freaked out,” he said, sounding embarrassed by it. “I thought I was in the mood for flogging but it turns out…um. I think I misjudged. I’m so sorry,” he added, blinking up at the guy with the flogger with a pained expression.

The guy mumbled something about another time, and then legged it as if the cops were after him. Tig sighed, slumping under his blanket. 

“I guess that’s the end of that,” he said.

“He was hitting you too hard,” Ewan pointed out, very reasonably in his opinion.

Tig made a face. “Was it too hard?”

“You tell me.”

Tig made a face, and scrubbed his cheek with the blanket. “I don’t know, I just felt off. He’s not gonna play with me again.”

“Yeah, well.” Ewan couldn’t argue against it, and he couldn’t argue that there were plenty more fish in the sea because…well, there were only so many single men in Santa Rita who liked what Tig liked. 

It wasn’t that Tig was picky. That might have been the problem. Tig was…average. He liked a bit of everything, hadn’t really settled into anything specific. He had some piercings, but apart from that there was nothing really exceptional about him. Average looking, averagely kinky, a little too eager to please. In a city with an abundance of submissives looking for their perfect Dom, Tig wasn’t really anything special.

Tig deserved someone who thought he was special. 

“Nice collar,” Tig said, cocking his head on one side to regard Ewan thoughtfully. “You look well-fucked.”

Oh, God. The reminder of how tousled and red-faced he must be was also a reminder of the plug in his ass. Did he smell like sex? He probably smelled like sex. “Oh. Yeah. Uh. Got a boyfriend.”

Tig’s eyebrows went up. “A kinky boyfriend?” He leaned to one side to peer around Ewan. “Uh…you mean Nate?”

Ewan felt it as an unpleasant zing in his gut. “You know him?”

“I mean… I’ve seen him. Holy shit, how long–” Tig spluttered, obviously taken aback. “Like…is it serious?”

“Uh-huh,” Ewan said, his nerves tightening in a way he hadn’t anticipated. “Listen–“

“Oh my God.” He eyed Ewan with obvious interest. “Dude. Are you exclusive?”

“Yes,” Ewan said, gritting his teeth. This had been a terrible idea. “Do you want a ride home?”

Tig wrinkled his nose. “So you’re not exclusive?”

“I’m not fucking soliciting you,” Ewan growled. “I just thought–“

“Well, yes, then. Please. If that’s okay.” 

He looked so pathetic under that blanket that it made Ewan’s teeth hurt. “I’ll get the old man.”

#

In the car, Tig wouldn’t shut up.

“And he was like, ‘But you said you would,’ and I was like, ‘Uh, no, and anyway, I don’t have to if I don’t want to.’ Like, continuous consent, right?”

Ewan hung around the side of his seat, peering at Tig in the back. “Continuous consent is overrated.”

“What?” Tig said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Nate stirred. “Oh really? Good to know.”

“No, I just mean…sometimes it’s stupid.”

Tig’s mouth twisted into a pout. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was hard to explain. Ewan didn’t even know if he wanted to explain it, and definitely not to Tig. So he said, “I don’t want to be the one to say no. I don’t want to think about it.”

“But you have to,” Tig insisted. Strips of shadow fell across his face as the car passed under the bright streetlights on its way downtown. “Like, that’s your job.”

“Fuck that. I’m not using a safeword if I can help it.”

For a long moment, Tig just stared at him. Then he laughed, a surprisingly bitter sound. “You think it’s weak. You think I shouldn’t have done it tonight.”

“No, that’s not–“

“Isn’t it?” Tig leaned forward to frown at him. “What would you have done, just taken it?”

“I wouldn’t have gone with that guy in the first place.”

Nate coughed the word, “Lies,” and when Ewan glanced at him he was grinning.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Tig demanded, his voice pitching up in a way that made Ewan feel awful.

“No!” Ewan clutched the edge of his seat, trying to find a way out of this without starting a fight. “I just hate it, you know? Just. I’d rather just take it, get it over with, move on.”

Nate cleared his throat. “That is a very disturbing thing to hear you say.”

“God, I don’t mean with you!”

“We’re going to talk about this later,” Nate said, with a kind of careful neutrality that made Ewan’s scalp prickle. “Tig, you did the right thing.”

“I know,” Tig said. “I just wish ‘the right thing’ ended in, you know. Orgasms.”

---

(And, because I love you, here’s a teeny little extra bit from later in the same book where Tig is trying to talk some sense into Ewan about safewords.)

---

“Okay, okay.” He heard Tig shuffling about on the other end of the phone, like he was rearranging himself. “Think of it like this, though. Imagine you met some guy in, like, thigh high boots, and he was hot and sexy, and had a really good Dom voice. And then after a couple of months of hooking up, he was all, ‘We don’t need to negotiate this anymore. I know you. I’m going to make all the decisions now and you don’t get a safeword anymore.’ Would that be okay?”

Ewan suppressed a shudder. “I mean…”

“Or, if you still don’t get it, what if it was me meeting that guy, and I’d been single for ages– hah, can you imagine? And so he said that, and I wasn’t really sure, but I said okay, because he was so hot, and I was so desperate.” Tig paused, dragging the moment out. “Would that be okay?”

“No,” Ewan said. “But–“

“Sounds like your sugar daddy just doesn’t want to be that guy.”

“He’s not though,” Ewan protested. “I just want it to feel…natural. Like real. Like he’s really the one in charge, and, and…”

“Hey. My dude,” Tig said gently but firmly. “I get it. You want this effortless, perfect match. No compromising because you both want the same things, right? At the same time, in the same way. But it isn’t like that.” His voice softened. “It’s never really like that.”

---

Feature image: Original Photo by Monstera from Pexels