Disclaimer: Obviously, I/we own nothing related to Twilight. This story is rated MA and is intended for adults over the age of is a graphic BDSM story- if that's not your thing, read with caution. If you're under 18, find your entertainment elsewhere.

Summary: Master Ethan (The Forbidden Room) is having a hard time with his control, so he enlists the help of local therapist Jasper Whitlock (Dark Salvation) with a unique specialty. AU/AH Slash

This is a Dark Salvation/The Forbidden Room crossover fanfiction one-shot. As with many fanfiction stories, it has no bearing on either original storyline.

Timeline wise, it would take place before Ethan meets Jayden.

For – TheLadyKT, thank you for your generous bid in The Fandom Gives Back Auction. (And an extra note of thanks from fiberkitty to DefinatelyStaying for collaborating with me on this piece. It was great working with you.)

Ethan

I've been restless lately, and not even Lexi can satisfy the feeling of my skin crawling as I sit watching the sun set on yet another day. It's been years since I really felt any measure of peace, but generally I could control my anxiety. Lately, it's been so disruptive that not even my sessions with Lexi have helped. I feel so out of control, and I'm out of coping strategies. At first, the lifestyle that Stephen introduced me to, the sessions with Alice had helped. Maybe I should go back to Stephen and see if there is anything else he can recommend before I lose my fucking mind.

Canceling my session with Lexi for this afternoon, I drove down to the college to where I knew Stephen would be. His office was deserted, but the schedule on his door indicated that he was teaching until four this afternoon. A quick check of the course calendar showed which lecture hall he was in. As quietly as I could, I opened the back door of the lecture hall and took a seat away from the students. I would have to sit through about half an hour of lecture until the class was over, but it was hardly a hardship. Dr. Stephen Bryant was a dynamic and charismatic speaker; it was a privilege to listen to him as he discussed topics that he was passionate about. Today, the lecture was on "Self-Fulfilling Prophecies and Behavioral Confirmation", a discussion on how an individual is changed by his or her social interactions. He was just getting into the effect of stereotypes when the hour ended.

I reached the podium where he was gathering his things just as the last student left the hall.

"Stephen, do you have a moment?" I asked, picking up a sheet he had dropped while putting his notes into his worn leather bag. I didn't know what I hoped to accomplish by asking him, maybe some kind of reassurance that I had done everything that I could to keep myself sane. Maybe I wanted him to tell me that there was a new panacea wonder drug that would take away my pain. I wasn't sure just what I was looking for, but I did know that Stephen was the best person that I had to ask.

"Ethan? What brings you back to your old alma matter?" Stephen asked with a smile, running his hand through his wavy blond hair to move a few wayward strands out of his eyes. He looked much the same as he did when I first saw him in my junior year, when he took me under his wing. He had somehow figured out my true identity from a paper I'd written on coping mechanisms. He was one of the very few people here that knew that I was "Ethan Hughes", the kidnap victim from Chicago. Of course, he only had the barest of idea what I'd been through; it wasn't something that I talked about with anyone. It wasn't anyone's fucking business. They couldn't help me.

"I'm looking for … I don't know, your advice maybe?" I said, still not entirely sure what I was doing here. Something had to change, that was certain, but what more could I do than I was already doing? I was almost afraid to ask. "I've been having problems lately – concentration, memory, moods. It's like the coping techniques that we'd come up with when I was at school here just aren't as effective as they once were."

"Do you think maybe it's because now you're the one in control? Maybe giving up that control for a while would help to put things back into perspective," he said with a thoughtful expression.

"Are you offering?" I asked with a smirk, knowing full well he'd never taken on a male submissive. He laughed, his smile brightening up his whole face. I had always thought Stephen a handsome man, even if he wasn't really my type.

"No, but I have a friend that might be exactly what you need."

Jasper

I sat back and surveyed my office, ensuring it was all in order. The soft cashmere throw was folded neatly over the back of the chaise. The coffee pot was filled, mugs beside it. The bathroom door was just slightly ajar, so that it was not off limits but also not the threat of an unsecured room. My binder was prepared and I already knew from Stephen what I was dealing with. I had heard of Ethan's case, had come across his name at some point during conferences on child psychology. More personally, I had heard of him and his desires, but had never encountered him; my specialty and preferences typically took me elsewhere. When Stephen asked me to blend the two sides of my life, professional and private, I had balked at first. Then, he told me it was for Ethan Hughes.

Control.

I wrote the word down, then circled it in red. Ethan's desire was and always will be control. He lost his control as a child and now seeks an overabundance of it. Sometimes, however, it is in choosing to give up the reigns of our control, giving it to someone else, that we truly discover how in control we are.

"Doctor Whitlock, your two o'clock is here early."

Turning to look out the window, I glanced at the skywalk to the hospital and then closed the blinds so that light filtered in but there was no view save my carefully chosen artwork. Standing, I brought my hands up over my head as I took in a deep breath, lowered my arms as I centered myself, and then pushed my arms out as I let the air out of my lungs. The small bouquet of flowers fluttered from the gust and I wiped a pale lilac shaded gardenia petal from my desk. Everything had to be under my control; it was my stage.

I stopped at the mirror beside the door and took in my countenance. My shoulder length blond waves were tinged with a lighter shade at the temples, not yet gray, but enough to show I was no longer in my twenties. My eyes, despite little sleep recently, were a clear blue. The flecks of green were minimized due to the blue dress shirt I wore. I wiped my hands on the back of my slacks and then opened the door.

"Ethan, please come in. I am ready for you."

I looked at his face, watched the shadow cross his eyes before he nodded at some thought he was having and then smiled, standing to offer his hand. "I was referred to you; he said you could help."

I nodded and ushered Ethan into my office. "You are an unusual client for me, Ethan. I would not have taken you on had Stephen not made the call to my home. I am not one to mix my personal and professional lives. You obviously understand the need for sensitivity in this situation beyond your own personal desire for secrecy. Stephen has spoken with me of your history, what I wasn't already aware of, and now I'd like to hear from you. What would you like from me?"

Ethan brushed past me, his uncertainty passing as he attempted an unconscious effort to be in charge of the time we would have together. I watched him, bemused by his cold, calculated expression as he looked over my bookshelves, took in my art, and even fingered the small tapestry hanging beside my desk. His eyes finally settled on me after he moved to the lounge. "I am having a problem with my control. It is something that I have come to rely on, a coping mechanism for … Well, your intake form has all my symptoms, if Stephen didn't already tell you; anxiety, short term memory difficulty, erratic moods, and an inability to focus."

I nodded and wrote them down in the order he gave them. It was different from what he'd written. "Now, Ethan, you came to me for this. You've obviously been treated by Stephen. I know his normal measures in working with clients, why me?"

His eyes met mine and I saw a glimmer of his own dominance flare. "I have not been successfully treated by anyone. I work hard to find my own balance. However, that is the question I want answered, Mr. Whitlock. Why you? Why does Stephen think you can help me?"

I walked back to the front of my desk and sat on the edge, feet crossed so that the toes of my shoes brushed against Ethan's lower leg. "Because I was once held by a Master against my will; I was in your place at one time. I'm my own Master now. I know how to help you, bring you back into the light from the dark shackles still holding you prisoner inside." He paled as I began unbuttoning my shirt. I released two of the small plastic disks until my scars were visible. "Come to my house tonight, to my play room, and we'll see what I can do for you, Ethan."

Ethan

Was I really considering this? I'd never submitted to another man, I didn't even know if I could. Never having allowed Ryan, or any of Nicole's playmates to touch me, I'd never done anything with another man - not willingly anyway. Dr. Whitlock seemed to understand, at least, in theory, what I had been through – what I was still going through. Could he help me?

When I got home from my appointment with the good doctor, I poured myself a scotch. I hadn't felt the need for one in a long time, but I certainly needed one today. There was very little that I would be able to do in order to calm myself before it was time to prepare for my session. This would have to suffice. I drank two short shots in rapid succession, but then stopped with just two. The idea was to mellow myself out, not lose my better judgment. I had a feeling that I was going to need it tonight.

Setting the tumbler in the sink for later, I climbed the stairs to the third floor, slowly, almost as if there were lead weights on my feet. If there was even the remotest possibility that Dr. Whitlock could help me, then it had to be done. I couldn't continue to live like this. When I reached my bedroom, I stripped out of my clothes and headed for the shower. Dr. Whitlock had given me very strict instructions for tonight, and I needed to make sure I followed them to the letter. There was no reason to antagonize him with the simple things.

Finally, exactly ninety minutes before I was supposed to walk through his door, I was ready. It would take about an hour to get to his place from here, and I wanted to make absolutely sure that I was on time. I dawdled around the house for another twenty minutes, idly straightening things, trying to put them in order.

Anxious to just get it over with, I walked out my front door, locking it behind me.

Jasper

"There are several safe guards in place, from a hand buzzer to our safe words, and I will ask you repeatedly if you are alright. I demand honesty from my Subs, even those of a short term variety. If you find at any time you need to step back and breathe or it is too much, you must let me know. That is my primary demand." Ethan nodded, his hair falling into his eyes. I lifted his chin firmly, holding his gaze with my own. "You are in control, Ethan; I am merely going to be the puppet master for you tonight."

He trembled slightly at my touch and I watched his mind regress to his prior treatment. "Relax, Ethan. I am a firm yet kind Master. We'll go slow. You know how to work the buzzer, correct?" He swallowed and twitched his thumb causing the red light to come on and a small buzz to emit from the speakers that were currently playing a soothing New Age mix. For a Dom to give up his control, I knew I'd have to tread carefully yet push him to open to my will.

I smiled and leaned in to kiss his lips gently. He tensed and I continued to kiss him, my lips still closed as my fingers slid up into his hair. "Just breathe, feel, accept. I won't hurt you any more than you crave." I whispered against his lips before I pulled his head back firmly, my fingers locking between the silken strands. Opening my lips, I let my tongue rest on his lower lip. "Open for me, Ethan. Kiss me." He balked and I pulled back. "You make others submit. Now it is your turn. Open to me."

Ethan's lips parted ever so slightly, and I took that as enough acquiescence to kiss him hard. I pushed him back against the bed, my hips nudging him each step of the way as our tongues slid against one another, exploring. "That's it. Good. Now, I want you to lie down on your stomach. If you need it to hold still, there is a rope beneath the pillow you may grasp at this time."

I climbed up beside him, straddling his still clothed hips. I'd made him remove his shirt when he first arrived. When my hands began to gently knead his shoulders, I could feel the slight shaking. "I'm not him, Ethan. You've trusted me this far. Let me make you feel good."

I lost myself in the rhythm of his breathing, my thumbs working the tissue down as his body became accustomed to my touch. This had nothing to do with me, and was all about his needs. "I can read your body language, Ethan. You don't think you want to be dominated by another man. Don't think of me as a man; think of me as your Master. For this session, and any others you may require, I am your Master."

I reached to the table beside the bed and grasped the long handle of the cat o' nine tails. I brought the leather down over the soft skin of his back, letting the strands dance over the striations of toned muscle. He winced at first, having caught a glimpse of what I held, and then began to relax into the sensation. When his body finally gave in, trusting me, I scooted back, over his legs. "Lift your hips for me."

I released the snap and zipper on his Dockers, smiling as his cock pressed against my hand once free. "Good, Ethan; you did listen. I'm glad you shaved and went commando for me."

He mumbled something into the pillow and I brought my hand down against his ass. "What was that?"

"Nothing, Sir."

I leaned up over him, my lips at his ear. "Are you alright so far?" He nodded. "Good. Now, up on your knees."

I pulled his pants off and threw them to the floor behind us. "Now, we have talked about your personal comfort levels earlier and where I want to push you. Which would you prefer, my hand or an instrument?" Ethan motioned to the toy I held. I tossed it aside. "I thought so. Now, count."

We made it through only ten spankings before his tears began. I took his body language, the extremely hard cock, and the thin line of precum that was stringing between his cock and the bedding. "Look at me." His wet eyes met my gaze and I nodded, giving him a small smile. "Good boy." His hips bucked at my praise. I reached beneath Ethan, my eyes still locked on his, and I circled his cock with my hand. "Feel good?" He nodded emphatically. I let my fingers slip over his length, giving Ethan just enough friction to bring him closer to a climax, but not quite send him over. The head of his cock turned a deep pink, almost purple, the shaft was flushed with blood as I brought him to the brink repeatedly.

"Please, Sir." Ethan's whine was music to my ears.

I released his cock and when those eyes blazed, I pointed to the floor. "No teeth, no hands. You have five minutes or you'll sleep on the floor here tonight instead of going home to your own bed." I stood and removed my own pants. He shook his head and I stilled my movements, waiting to see if Ethan would assimilate the emotions or if he would bail. He took a deep breath and then licked his lips. I nodded and gave him a gentle smile as I stepped out of my pants. "Your time begins now."

Ethan swallowed and then leaned forward, kissing my cock. I grasped each side of his head and pulled him down onto my cock. "You can do better than that, Ethan. My cock needs your attention." He whimpered and then relaxed his head, allowing me to drag him up and down my length. His tongue trailed along my shaft, his lips tightening and then releasing as he reached the head of my cock and then swallowed me back down. I purred deep in my throat; the rolling 'r' sound made my chest rumble like a cat's. I sat down on the bed, bringing Ethan with me, his mouth never leaving my cock. My fingers gave up their purchase on his temples and moved to stroke his ears, encouraging his movements.

"Harder. Make me cum, Ethan. You only have seventy five seconds left. I don't think you can make me cum." I reached for a flogger still sitting at the foot of the bed and brought it down hard enough to leave the lightest of red lines on his fair skin. He struggled to keep his breathing while I thrust deeper between his lips. I was careful to walk the fine line between my own needs and those of my Sub. He needed me to treat him with care, yet lead him through this experience. He needed me to show him the other side of losing his control. As for me, I needed to cum, badly. I focused my eyes on the wall behind Ethan, willing my body to not cum. When the clock said he had but ten seconds left, I pulled him off me.

"I've changed my mind. I want you on the bed." He gave me no quarrel and moved quickly, kneeling on the bed, eyes down, hands behind his neck. I silently cursed myself as my balls ached. I reached for two weighted clamps and warmed the metal lightly with my breath, blowing into my cupped palm. Reaching to his smooth chest, I pinched each nipple in turn, stretching out the hardened nub and releasing the clamp. He let out a whine at first and then breathed through the discomfort. Ethan's pelvic muscles jerked, causing his cock to bump against my thigh, when I set the second clamp.

"Such sweet tears you make for me, Ethan." I kissed the wet trail across each cheek and then found myself at his lips. His mouth responded to my touch immediately, enthusiasm filling each movement of his lips. His tongue met mine and then retreated to his mouth as he worried about overstepping his bounds. Ethan's hiss as I gently touched each nipple with my thumbs made my body ache to be inside him. I wanted to hear that hiss along with a groan. I grasped the lubricant and set it beside us before I helped him into the position I wanted. It would be easier for him if he was bound, so I moved slowly and deliberately, giving him time to watch me as I stretched him out onto his back. Ethan's face was haunted as I fastened first one wrist, then the other, to the bed frame.

"I'm your Master and you've given me your trust. I'm going to make you feel good, Ethan. I would never hurt you. Stop your mind, all the thinking; just worry about what your Master wants. Right now, I want you to lift your legs for me, Ethan." His abdomen contracted, his body bending at the hip. "Very nice." I got into position, my knees resting against his ass, and then had him lower his legs over me so that his body was tilted upwards. Leaning down, I contorted myself to lick his cock. He was beautiful as his back arched, lifting his hips to me in offering. "Do you want my cock?" I asked between slow, languid, licks down his shaft that had me twirling my tongue beneath the glans of his cock. "Answer me, Ethan. Do you want your Master's cock? You may speak."

His voice was a whisper, harsh and beautiful, as he made his affirmation. I looked into his eyes, my tongue still lapping at the base of his cock, and saw that he truly wanted me to do this. With a quick glance to his hand to make sure the buzzer was still held firmly, I knelt up once again, and began readying us both. A condom for me, lubricant on both of us, stretching Ethan with first one, two, and then a third finger, and finally I moved myself into position. Tight heat was all that I knew as I thrust into him. A keening moan brought my attention back to his face and I asked again if he was alright. He nodded, eyes closed, and I smiled to myself while I gave him the last few inches of my length.

"I am your Master, Ethan. I bring you pleasure," I halted my speech as I withdrew and then thrust back in, my hand stroking his cock, "and I can bring you pain." I tightened one of the clamps slightly, enough that he winced, his cock growing harder in my hand. "But, I want you to know this; I may be in charge, but you are in control. At any time, you can tell me to stop. You are always in control, Ethan. You are a Dom, and while I am your Master right now, no one can take that away from you."

The slap of my pelvis against his ass was loud in the sacred space we had created. I pumped Ethan's cock in rhythm with my thrusts and when his blush began to spread down his neck to his chest and up from his cock to his lower stomach, I knew it was time. He groaned as I let go of his cock and reached up to remove both clamps, my fingers applying counter pressure against the pain. As I resumed stroking, I felt his muscles clench around me. The head of his cock turned a deeper shade and his body tensed before the first dribble escaped the slit and then four spurts of cum landed on his chest. A few more escaped as I continued to twist my hand up and down his shaft, squeezing the head firmly.

I took my time thrusting into him; I was enjoying the sensation too much. Eventually, I fell into the age old pattern of regretfully withdrawing only to squeeze myself back into him, watching his body take me in, the muscles flaring beautifully around my cock. Amusement filled me as I watched Ethan's cock begin to swell once more as I neared completion. With thoughts in mind of my next move in this chess match to heal his mind, I let my climax hit, my hands pulling Ethan's hips to me in strong movements that had us both groaning.

I pulled out of him, holding the condom, chuckling as he gasped at the sudden emptiness. I disposed of the condom and reached beneath the bed for the basket of wash cloths. After cleaning us both, I began to set Ethan free of the bonds. My movements were automatic as I unhooked his hands and gently massaged his wrists, hands, and fingers to ensure proper circulation. His languor passed suddenly as I ordered him to bend over my lap.

"Ethan, you never asked for permission to cum."