Stray Master

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[Chapter Twenty Six]


Scottish Translation -

mo chridhe - my heart

Bonnie - Pretty/Beautiful

Mo Peata - My Pet

Bràthair- Brother

Màthair - Mother

Dadaí -father/ Daddy


News Years Eve, a night that normally met absolutely nothing to me, is now one I absolutely cannot wait for. Thankfully, today is that day. I had never celebrated it, did not need to when the new year would only bring the same feelings as the previous. The new year had merely brought more pain with the added amount of alcohol, more drunken promises of death, and faint crying from a room I was never allowed to enter. Afterward everything, my past and moving, meeting Miss Parry, I just never had the urge to celebrate.

The parties made me uncomfortable, the scent of alcohol and too many drunk people wandering around. I watched the ball drop sometimes, mainly because there was nothing else on during it. I painted while absentmindedly glancing at whatever channel showcased it that had caught my attention. I always heard people around my apartment getting in the mood, parties and feet stomping, cheering the count down. The next morning everybody was either stumbling to work or refusing to show their faces until later in the evening when hangovers had mostly passed. Oftentimes, I wonder why keep doing this every year. Doesn’t it get old? Partying all night just for a sprinkling ball to drop and for the number on the calendar change. I don’t exactly get it, understand.

Although, I could understand being excited for a new year. All the possibilities, changes for people. I just don’t understand why people would rather wake up in pain with a hangover, or passed out in some alley, or even in someone else’s home. Is starting a New Year like that really what others want? I’d rather wake up in my bed, safe and pain-free knowing it was a new year.

Like Christmas, I don’t do News Years; Lewis does. My sweet boyfriend had once again invited me to spend News Years with him and had promised that it’d only be us, Seán, and a family facetime to satisfy his mother. I agreed as quickly as possible. Christmas was the best day of my life because it felt like I belonged and was safe and like I had a real family. Lewis’s mother accepted me and I was participating in Lewis’s tradition to call home for the holiday and do something with his beloved mother, even with the distance between them. I was allowed in and playing with snow with Lewis and his brother, laughing and joking with his mother; it was the purest happiness I’ve ever felt. I’ve never had that, and I adored it.

I wanted it again, to spend time with this new family I was allowed in and spend time with Lewis going into a new year. It felt right; like I was finally moving on and everything was shifting into a place I was ready for. I want to go into a new year with Lewis and his family, start it off with them, and, hopefully, go throughout this year and others alongside them.

I don’t want to be lonely anymore with only CeCe, Ryan and Miss Parry, and Oliver. I love them dearly, but they have lives and things to do and other friends. Mostly it’s just me. Now it isn’t and I want to start this new year off right; with Lewis.

New Year’s Eve falls on a Thursday this year, meaning Miss Parry will be keeping the shop closed on Friday because business is slower when no one shows up, customers, and CeCe hungover. This means I have a whole weekend with Lewis, today through Sunday since Lewis had suggested I stay over again. I had happily agreed, being with Lewis is amazing and after Christmas, I want to spend as much time as I can with him during any holiday. He had talked his boss into giving him some time off this weekend, said he’d work some overtime on other projects that his boss needed help with. I was surprised when I was told he’d be able to do the whole weekend, expecting him to need to disappear for work.

The weekend of Christmas was great and I can’t wait to see how this one will turn out. Seán had left us as I had assumed and afterward Lewis had surprised me by bringing out the wrapped presents, placing them in front of me, and ordering me to open all of them. He sat on the couch, relaxed, and laid back with his arm over the back of the furniture, me on the floor between his spread legs with his hand lazily rubbing his blunt nails on the skin of my neck. Three presents in total; a large easel to hold canvases, a very comfortable little stool-like chair with armrests, and a fluffy light blue cushion as the seat and a backrest, then five large canvases, ones bigger than I usually get and made for hanging on walls.

I was so happy with it, it was the best gift I’ve gotten. I don’t have an easel or a seat for one, I just use a small table I found that was cheap and sit on the floor. The canvases I use are small or medium, big enough to place on tables or lean against a wall on a counter, out of the way. Being given a stand for painting and a comfortable seat will improve my motivation to paint and help my body not be so stiff or ache, I can relax in the seat and lean my back against the cushion when I need a small rest. The canvases had shocked me just because of the sheer size of them, it had simply gained a laugh from Lewis and he explained, ‘All this is gonna stay here, right in that room. Yer gonna paint in there, and fill it up with art for me. Gonna have a room just for ya, instead of that livin room of yours.’

It was a shock, I wasn’t able to believe that he’d given me a room in his home to dedicate paint and art to. It wasn’t until he had set up the easel in the corner of the room I found empty, placed the chair by it and a canvas on the stand, then simply placed a small wooden sign with my name, Tommy Boy’s Room, that it sunk in. I had actually cried, too much joy and warmness in my body to handle. Lewis merely smiled, kissed me, and cuddled with me on the couch until I calmed down and then spent the remaining evening with me in my new room, watching me draw an outline for a new painting. He sat on the floor near me, not minding my babbling about how thankful I was and how it was the best, then talking his ear off on how to make the room homier and comfortable for sitting. It was bland and empty as it was.

Through it all, Lewis entertained me, making promises to help me make the room to my liking, ‘It’s yours, mo chridhe. Do whatever ya want, I’ll make it happen.’

That was the sweetest thing I remember anyone doing for me, it made me warm inside and feel like I was completely invincible. Lewis shows me he cares in ways I hadn’t expected, both obvious gestures and ones I don’t always notice. His dominating me is caring in its own way, if he wanted to, he wouldn’t spend time on me. But he does, he dominates me and he makes sure my needs are met. I honestly love it and wish everybody had someone like Lewis, who would do the things he does for me, for them. Maybe the world would be a bit happier, then. Lewis brightens up any day, I think the people of the world should get a piece of that if only a little.

Lewis had said he would pick me up from my apartment and that I’d better be packed, assuring a few spanks on my ass if not. I have half a mind to test him, see if he’d really spank me. Briefly picturing the larger man forcing me over his lap by my hair or simply picking me up, big hands holding me down and pulling my pants down to reveal my ass to him. I can only imagine the roughness of his callused hands as he delivers blow after blow to the pale skin of my bottom. I had shivered at the picture in my head, really considering it, but concluded that I shouldn’t start the weekend off with a punishment- test or not. Perhaps I’ll just earn a spanking after Seán left us.

I know Lewis had only mentioned the punishment as a tease, playful as he is. We aren’t fully in our relationship as Master/Sub, only just taking it slightly further and I’m happy with the pace. It’s just, sometimes I crave a punishment from Lewis. Need to know he’d discipline me after I broke a rule, though, he doesn’t necessarily have spoken rules. I’m aware of his unspoken but acknowledged rule that I stay with him, in his view, in any stores or public area we go to. I know I can’t pick anything up to help him fill the cart, I can show him something, but not place it in the cart. I know that when he holds me closer, holding my hand or wrapping his arm on my shoulders, that I’m not supposed to move away without searching for permission. I learned that only recently, after Christmas when he took me shopping again.

We were walking to the food isles in the store, Lewis having taken me to buy both of us more hoodies or shirts since I end up stealing his and keeping mine at home when I go over to his apartment. He wanted me to have some clothes at his without taking clothes from my apartment, in case I forgot something. He just bought me new things to keep there. As we were walking, Lewis had his arm on my shoulders, a comforting weight, and I was helping him push the cart while I was tucked into his side. Something caught my attention, a big stuffed kitten with little blue beady eyes and fuzzy fur on his tail and ears, it was almost as big as me and I had the urge to take it off the shelf and hug it.

Of course, once I attempted to slip from Lewis’s arm and side, he pulled me right back, not even allowing me to take another two steps. He stopped us, moving the cart and us out of the way of others, and simply raised his eyebrow, looking down at me with a displeased frown and his brows slightly furrowed. His eyes were stern as he stared at me, disapproving, and I knew I had broken a rule because a Dominant doesn’t look at a Sub like that unless they’ve been bad. My eyes couldn’t move from his chest when I saw that, feeling as if I didn’t deserve to look him in the eye at that moment, even if we hadn’t talked about rules and I didn’t know. He hadn’t said anything, understanding I understood the gist of what happened, and simply asked what caught my attention, assuring me he wasn’t mad and that it was okay because we hadn’t spoken about rules. I know though, to ask or gain permission before moving from under his grip.

I don’t mind it, I like it. Knowing I do have rules, as limited as they are. I know he has them for my safety, not wanting something to happen to me, and honestly they just make the dominant/Submissive part of our relationship much better. I love rules, because I know I’m cared for enough to have them and that I’d be disciplined for breaking one. I can just hope that we’ll add more and even make a list for me at some point, along with small punishments.

I’m just sitting on my couch after hanging up with CeCe, who had been telling me about her new girlfriend, Kat, again. She sounded happier and I’m glad, my friend and I both got someone special to start the year off with and I’m sure ceCe will have just as much fun as me with Kat. They’re going to a big party with some friends of Kat, it sounded like a Halloween party when CeCe decided it to me instead of a New Year party, but I’m positive it’ll be the right space for CeCe as she greatly enjoys anything creepy or Halloween-ie.

She had told me how proud she was of me for going with Lewis for not only Christmas but today as well, saying she was happy and relieved I got someone to spend them with and to make me happy in a way she couldn’t. It isn’t often she opens up with her feelings and I understand what she means, Lewis gives me what she can’t, I’m just happy to hear her say it. She dismissed my small, ‘love you, too, C’, but it’s okay, the love word makes her slightly uncomfortable and she doesn’t say it. CeCe shows her love in different ways and I’m okay with not hearing it, her saying all that she did tells me what I need to know she loves me too.

The front door opens when I lean back on the couch, heavy boots hitting the floor and I instantly smile as I recognize the sound. I’m proven right in my assumption when Lewis calls out, “Any cute lads in here with lovely eyes?”

I laugh and jump up to run to him, meeting him in the doorway to the living room and kitchen from the hall. He grins when I jump on him, laughing as he catches and holds me tightly to his chest, placing kisses on my head and neck. His arms are directly under my ass to hold me up, and I feel a large hand sneakily squeeze the crease of my butt cheek and thigh. “Ah, there ya are, Bonnie. Missed ya, Tommy Boy.”

Holding him tighter around his neck, I pull my head from his throat, kissing his lips in a small peck. Giggling, “Hi, Lewy. Missed you too, though I saw you yesterday and we talked this morning.”

He scoffs, “It doesn’t count if I’m not holdin ya, lad.”

“You held me yesterday, remember? I had to keep slapping your hand from my ass.”

He just smirks, voice going into a tone that makes shiver and press closer, “well, it belongs ta me now don’t it? I touch when I want.”

His possessiveness is one of the many things that turn me on, he touches me when he wants, he kisses me when he wants and he takes whatever else he may want; even in the public. I’m sure we had traumatized a high school couple in the store the other day when Lewis randomly pushed me against a shelf, grabbed my ass, and kissed me as if he were planing on fucking me right there in the store with others watching. I love the thought of him just taking want he wants, I chose to be his and therefore he can do whatever it is he wants with me, as long as he treats me well and doesn’t abuse me; I’m his to with as he pleases and that pleases me to no end. I’m what others would call a Slave Submissive, though I think I’m more of a mix between that and a Baby Boy. I like being thought of as a possession to a certain extent and I serve my dominant in any way I can, but I like cuddles and I’m bratty when I feel like it.

I’m Lewis’s boyfriend, his sub, his to command, and his to do whatever with. I couldn’t ask for anything better.

“Ya ready, Mo Peata? Bràthair said he’d meet us at home.” Lewis fixes me to rest on his side, his arm staying in place but allowing him to have one free as he walks back to my room where I a bookbag of clothes he recently bought and a bag of paints.

He told me to bring some I don’t use often to his apartment to put in my room there, to start making it mine, and to have some in there in case I felt like painting during the weekend. I may just do that, I outlined one I want to paint for Lewis and I’d like to start and finish it in that room, put the first painting in it for Lewis. I wouldn’t let him see the whole picture, wanting it to be a surprise, but he saw one of the eyes and started asking questions. He gave up when I pouted and said it was a surprise, kissing me to make me stop pouting,

Resting my head on his shoulder, I nod. “Yeah, I got the paint like you said.”

He pats my ass, “Good boy.”

He grins when I smile sheepishly and turn red as I shiver, pleasant tingles in my chest as I go warm all over. He kisses my nose, the only part of my face he can reach with how I’m being carried, before reaching down and grabbing the book bag of clothes and handing it to me to hold while he holds the paint. Lewis makes sure I have everything, my phone, any brushes for art, or any of my tools before we leave. He allows me to walk out of the door, lock it then takes my hand and leads to through my building and out to his truck. He keeps me close to him, my shoulder brushing against his upper arm or elbow and I’m pulled out of the way of others who walk on my side of the hall or who pass too closely.

The ride to his new apartment is quiet, peaceful, and comfortable silence with Lewis resting his warm hand on my thigh and lightly scratching his nails on my sweatpants. The sensation is pleasing and it very nearly puts me to sleep. When we get closer, Lewis explains what will happen tonight. Seán will be coming in after he gets off his second job and changes clothes at his own apartment, then they’ll call their Mother and family. I’m told that it’ll be the whole house that answers the call, meaning I’ll meet his entire family, even cousins because they live with his parents and grandmother, and aunts and uncles and I’m already getting overwhelmed. Lewis assures me that they will love me, just as Niamh does. It helps some but I’m still very nervous.

He had mentioned his Father was slightly taller than Seán and is a big man muscle-wise, said he was a farmer since the day he would walk and spent time briefly as a soldier in the army. Although I know the man didn’t see war, the Irish Army is mainly a peacekeeping unit according to Lewis, he still sounds intimidating. Being a soldier is hard, seeing war or not, peacekeeping or not, and I only imagine the training he got, mix that with his farming muscle that he gained as he grew; I can picture him a scary man. It helps when Lewis reminds me his father is afraid of sweet little Niamh.

I haven’t heard much of his cousins or Aunts, Uncles. Only that his cousins are troublemakers, have ruined walls and trackers and trucks and tools needed to do work. I’m told they’re all big and large, like Seán. Some are redheads, some look similar to Seán and others take after their parents more. Every single male in the family is a farmer, was raised on a farm, and did work to earn their keep. The women did too, everyone works together and helps when needed. Lewis admits that it’s all chaos, but they all love each other and I’ll be welcomed with open arms and smiles.

We wait for Seán when we get to Lewis’s, I make something to eat with the food Niamh sent to Lewis. The Scotsman sits at the counter, watching me prepare it and giving me instructions on how to prepare the whole meal. Praising me and telling me that Niamh would be impressed and demand my help in the kitchen if we ever meet in person. Lewis makes me shower afterward, cheekily getting in with me and distracting me with kisses and pets, and allowing his cock to rub against my back. We don’t mess around though, he’s shameless but I put my foot down at the chance of Seán walking in the apartment. Lewis rolls his eyes playfully at my reasoning but backoffs and keeps it to kisses and washing me.

Once Seán comes in after sundown, looking tired and worn, he gets a shower of his own. He barely greets us, grunting and nodding as he walks directly to the bathroom. Lewis shouts a ‘Màthair didn’t raise an animal, Bràthair!’, over my head from where we’re cuddling on the couch. He didn’t seem bothered by the invasion, Seán had never knocked and walked in as if he owned the place. I’m not surprised one bit, both are as shameless as the other and their brothers, they had probably seen and done worse to each other. Seán eats about half of the food I made, Lewis had already eaten most of it with myself having a filling plate.

When the time comes to call the family it’s an hour or two until the ball drops, I’m sitting on Lewis’s lap while Seán sets up the face time on a laptop I didn’t know Lewis had. There’s a channel showing the crowds and partying where the shiny New Years’ ball is, the tv muted. Lewis is rubbing my thigh and kissing at my neck, my eyes closed as I enjoy the sensation and the safety coming from him. I’m nervous, but I have Lewis and Seán here, I was fine when I met Niamh and I’m sure I’ll be okay meeting everyone else. My heart is beating faster and my stomach is in little knots that Lewis’s huge hands rub away.

I jump when pure chaos erupts from the speakers of the laptop, yelling and shouting and laughing and cursing. On the screen is a huge group of people in the middle of a room that appears to be older than any room I’ve seen, it’s mainly rock and wood. A rock wall on the fireplace that has a bright red fire burning in it, the wooden outline of everything has cravings in it and the wood seems older than other pieces, as if different people did the building of it. There’s a large staircase in the back of the room with the steps looking newer, the wood fresh like the railing. The tables are similar to the one Lewis and Seán made with different cravings and words on them in odd places, personal pieces of artwork from different people in the family. The furniture is worn, old. A huge couch with thick blankets covering it, a rocking chair with pillow stacked high, three recliners; one with pillows and blankets, another with only one blanket on it to cover it, the last is obviously the newest.

People are all over the place, teenagers running through the room and up the stairs, women shouting at them, older men are on the couch with drinks talking, older women are shaking their head at the younger men that wrestle on the floor, and I see a baby or two in younger woman’s arms. Most of the boys I see are either bright red head, brown, or black-haired, and all of them are tall. I see skinny ones with a swimmer’s body and jock-looking ones, but they all have muscle and I can scars when some move certain ways that I assume is from farming. The woman is the same, shorter but much the same. I count about seventeen younger men with new ones appearing, there are seven younger children, around ten adults and I only see one elder that is clearly the oldest.

The elder is the recliner with the blankets and pillow, swinging her cane at children that run past her, shouting cursing at them. I safely assume that’s Lewis’s grandmother, Ethniu.

Niamh appears in front of the screen, smiling and waving but having yet to say anything. Lewis and Seán wave back, encouraging me to do the same. Then she turns to face the chaos, balancing on her cane, and shouts over everyone else in Irish. I only catch Lewis’s and Seán’s names, but Lewis kisses my jaw and squeezes me closer. Guessing she had mentioned he had me with him. It works like a charm, every single one of the children stops running, the wrestling stops, and the adults turn to her. The elder, Ethniu, smirks, and nods, as if she’s proud her daughter has so much sway over the family.

Niamh waves an older gentleman over to her, and without hesitation, he stands up and walks to her, placing a hand on her shoulder to help steady her. He has a thick greying beard and looks like Seán, just much older with wrinkles, and taller. Niamh merely reaches his nipple area while he towering over her, his hand taking up her whole shoulder. He leans down and places a kiss on her forehead and I understand this is Conner, her husband, Lewis’s father. I can tell he’s bigger than both Lewis and Seán in height and muscle and wonder how Niamh can make him scared of her.

Conner turns to the screen, not smiling, but his lips twitch up. His voice is deeper than I should’ve expected, “Lads.”

Seán and Lewis speak at the same time, in tune with each other, “Dadaí.”

Conner’s brown eyes turn to me and he gives me a quick smile, “This lad Tommy, Lewy?”

I feel Lewis nod, “Aye. he’s my boyfriend, Dadaí. Thomas, we call him Tommy Boy.”

Waving a little, I lean further into Lewis when the children gather around Conner and Niamh, Ethniu leaning up in her seat as if I’m the most interesting thing that has happened in the chaos she was just in the middle of. “Hi- Hello, uh... sir?”

I’m awkward, more so than with only Niamh, I have an entire family watching me and Conner is scary when his attention is focused on me. Lewis hugs me tighter, his hand rubbing along my thigh and his beard tickling the skin on my neck. Conner smirks, Niamh grins and the children giggle, I can see the younger men watching in interest as Lewis tries to calm me and the women only grin with whispered comments.

“Welcome ta ’he family, Tommy Boy. I’m Conner.”

After that, it’s a big mess of names and introductions. The chaos has returned but this time we’re included and Lewis has everyone laughing when a younger man around my age attempts to flirt with me, Ethniu beats the poor boy with weak little punches that don’t hurt him and it has everyone laughing even more. I meet Niamh’s six siblings and their children, and the children of those children, then the two babies. I met uncles and aunts and cousins that wrestle and punch and insult. Conner and Niamh sit in the middle of it all, like a royal couple with the amount of respect they get from the others, Ethniu even more so.

The whole night is filled with laughs and I enjoy myself, this family is amazing and I’m so happy Lewis allowed me to participate. I already love these people, the humor, the respect they have for each other, the wisdom in Ethniu, Niamh, and Conner as they handle all of them. The way Lewis acts with them, how Seán slaps Lewis for cousins when Lewis insults them playfully, how Lewis does the same. I’m included in jokes and stories and Lewis being possessive over me when members of his family say things in Irish I don’t understand.

When the countdown for the New year begins, Lewis holds me even tighter and once the ball drops, he kisses me with the sounds of his family cheering in the background.

In the middle of it, of the chaos that feels like it’s the room instead of on a screen, instead of across the sea, I finally feel belonging. And it’s amazing.

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