Chapter Text
Rauf moved into my house permanently, unable to will himself to disobey my orders, but he could still be annoying in other ways. He proved that when he barged in on a session - ironically with one of the two shills he’d called out at the start of this whole relationship - to tell me some research that could easily have waited until I was finished.
“Excuse me for a moment, Mattéo.” I said, and left him tied to the St Andrews Cross as I led Rauf out into the hall. “How dare you interrupt one of my private sessions?”
“I just thought you’d want to know…”
“You thought that your research took precedence over my time? Over Mattéo’s time, that he paid for?” I asked. “No, pissy baby. You march yourself into your bedroom, and you go sit in the corner, and you stay there until I say you can leave.” I told him, sending him a strong mental image of him sitting, facing the corner, like a little kid in time out.
He walked away, and I turned back. “Sorry about that, Mattéo. I’ll give you a partial refund on this one. Now, where were we?”
When Mattéo left, I checked on Rauf and found him sitting in the corner, just as I’d told him. As he heard the door open, he tried and failed to turn his head to look at me. “Please, let me up.” He said. “I’m sorry.” But I could feel the anger and indignation burning off of him.
“You will be.” I replied. “You’re going to miss supper.” I left, and ate supper without him.
When I returned, he was smug. “I messed my diaper.” He said. “You can’t leave me here, I’ll stink up the place.” Sure enough, there was a strong and distinctive smell coming from him.
“It’s your own bedroom, it’s just you who’s affected by the stink.” I said. “And you deserve a rash for your behavior today.”
“No, wait!” He begged as I left, and I felt the first glimmers of real panic from him. I smiled and headed to bed.
When I had my midnight pee, he was asleep with his forehead propped against the wall. I grinned and left him to it.
The next morning, I ate breakfast and then checked on him. He’d leaked, and was sitting in a puddle of brown-tinged urine. “Please.” He said, and this time, he really did sound - and feel - utterly desperate. “Please, just change my diaper at least.”
“Sounds like you’ve learnt your lesson.” I said. “You can get up. Get this mess cleaned up, and then I’ll let you have breakfast.”
The next night, when I gave him a midnight change, I was surprised to find that he didn’t have a diaper rash. His skin must be tougher than most of my clients.
He didn’t interrupt any of my private sessions again.