Becoming Owen

Opera

Owen awoke. He felt a weight lying on his hip. In a sudden, glorious moment of recollection, he realized it was Adam’s hand. His skin tingled with Adam’s proximity. He didn’t want to move in case he disturbed that contact, and he lay quiet, soaking in the pleasure of waking for the first time in Adam’s bed.

Owen listened to Adam’s breathing as he lay behind him. Part of him wanted for this to go on forever. But his mind’s eye began to trace the curve of Adam’s body from the hand on Owen’s hip up to Adam’s shoulder and back down again to his groin. He was pretty sure where Adam’s cock would be located. With tiny movements he began to shuffle his buttocks back until he felt his cheek touch a tell-tale bulge. He held his breath, but when he sensed a twitch from the bulge, he couldn’t help letting out a little whimper that woke Adam.

Adam sat up sleepily and stretched his long limbs. He pulled Owen up onto his chest and held him there quietly for a while, enfolding him in his arms. Then he said, “Owen, I made a bad mistake yesterday.”

“No, really, it’s OK.”

“It’s not OK. What I did to you, I did without thinking about you—about your safety. I need to control you, you know that. But first I have to control myself.”

“But I want to be controlled by you.”

“I know you do, Owen. That’s something I have to take responsibility for. I told you that no harm would come to you, but I didn’t make good on that.”

“But I’m OK now, I’m not harmed!”

“That’s because you’re so strong, so courageous. Yesterday you were a better man than me. You spoke the truth even when I threatened you. That took a lot of bravery, Owen.”

The events of the previous day had faded from Owen’s attention. The glorious warmth of waking next to Adam had pushed them away and he didn’t want to dwell on them. Tentatively he reached his mouth up to Adam’s for a kiss. As Adam kissed him slow and hard, he knew Owen had forgiven him.

“Thank you, Owen.” Adam said, “I think you’ve earned a reward. Today we can do whatever you like. What will it be?”

Owen took this responsibility very seriously. His mind ran over the possible ways Adam could fuck him and the places they might visit together, but one thing stood out in his mind.

“Adam, I’d like to make us breakfast.”

Adam laughed, relieved at the sweet way Owen was breaking the serious mood. His hand slid under Owen’s butt cheek and squeezed. “Is that all? Sure you don’t want something in this gorgeous ass?”

Emboldened, Owen said, “I’m counting on getting that anyways. This would be a bonus.”

“OK, but you’ll need something to wear in the kitchen.” Adam rummaged in a drawer and came up with sweatpants and a t-shirt. Owen was disappointed that they were clean, he would like to have worn Adam’s smell, but he put them on anyway. Adam was a good four inches taller than he was, and he rolled up the legs of the pants.

Owen headed to the kitchen and Adam went down to the lobby to fetch his newspaper.

Adam set down with the paper. It was a struggle to allow Owen free range of his kitchen. Adam was a serious cook and didn’t like anyone else in his territory. He knew the kitchen was a mess but he also knew exactly where to find everything. He tried to concentrate on reading the newspaper but he couldn’t help noticing that as Owen moved around the kitchen, his ass kept looming in close proximity to Adam’s face.

“Are you flirting with me, you little slut?”

“Maybe just a bit, Sir.”

“Get over here.” Adam drew Owen to him by his arm, and pulled down his sweatpants to expose his naked ass. He bent Owen over the table and picked up a wooden spoon. To Owen’s delight, he gave him a few light taps on each cheek, trying to avoid the marks from last night.

“Where’s your discipline? I say when you get my dick. Or anybody else’s dick for that matter.” He swatted Owen fractionally harder and the boy wriggled happily.

Adam was surprised and pleased at Owen’s exuberance. The bruises on Owen’s body from the day before reminded him of his own selfish lack of control. But Owen’s brightness and his unreserved happiness when they were together were irresistible. He bent down to kiss Owen’s neck, eliciting contented little moans from the boy. Adam realised how much he had come to reply on Owen’s cheerful, forgiving nature and how it dispelled his own darker moods. He wanted to give his boy some pleasure and he moved his mouth down to kiss Owen’s butt.

“Adam! You said I could make breakfast!”

“You can do that later. I’m hungry for that ass and we have some unfinished business.” He pushed Owen back over the table and fingered his entrance. “Nice hole, boy. It just needs filling up with some cock—do you think mine would do?”

“Oh yes please, Adam!” Owen craved it. He pushed out his ass, but Adam flipped him over onto his back to look into his eyes. He had to be sure Owen wanted this. One glance in his boy’s eager face told him everything he needed to know. He whipped off the sweatpants, pushed up Owen’s legs and lined his cock up for the first thrust.

The suddenness of Adam’s arousal drove the head of his cock directly into Owen’s entrance. He was already wet with pre-cum but he made himself pause to allow Owen to accept him. The boy was so inviting and open. He eased in gently but there was no need—Owen’s relaxed, happy mood gave his ass a buttery softness.

The fuck meant everything to Owen. The soreness of his ass from yesterday was forgotten. He felt ridiculously proud to have seduced Adam in this small way, and now Adam’s cock was back where it belonged, sliding in and out of him and making him moan with pleasure.

Adam wanted to possess that ass in every way. He pulled out long enough to bend down and take a big bite of Owen’s soft butt-cheek. Owen’s flesh was delicious and yielding. Then he shoved his cock back in and admired the red marks of his teeth on Owen’s ass. He picked up the pace and thrust with more rapid lunges.

It revitalized Adam just to be fucking Owen this once without any of the rituals of domination. They were, in that moment, two men enjoying each other’s bodies. He closed his eyes and let his dick take over. He thrust quick and hard. As Adam slipped through his second sphincter, Owen’s moans of pleasure filled his senses with a delightful ease. His cock was caressed by Owen’s inner muscles and he felt Owen’s enthusiasm flow into his cock.

“Oh God, Owen, I’m going to come.” And he came with a groan of release, flooding the boy’s passage with his seed.

Owen stood up, laughing with delight at Adam’s appetite for him and the gift of his cum in his ass. Everything was all right again. “Go shower, Adam,” he said, “I need to finish making breakfast.”

Adam, for once, did what Owen told him. When he returned, the kitchen had miraculously become clean and tidy. Owen had moved all Adam’s clutter of papers and books from the table into neat piles on a chair. As soon as he saw Adam, Owen beamed at him. He adored the sight of Adam’s naked chest and wet, tousled hair, and he pushed a cup of coffee into his hand.

The table was carefully set, the napkins freshly folded, and a flower that Owen had taken from a big vase in the living room was laid on Adam’s plate. Adam took note of it. Breads and fruit were laid out and Owen was dishing up eggs. “Breakfast is served, Sir,” he announced happily.

Adam ate hungrily, remembering to compliment Owen on his cooking. The eggs were good—just how he liked them. He buttered a piece of toast and looked across at his boy.

“You know, Owen, I don’t think your request was quite enough of a treat for you. How would you like to go to the opera tonight?” Owen’s eyes lit up as Adam continued: “You remember the tickets Nicky gave us for his wife’s opening performance? That’s tonight.”

Owen was excited (not least because Adam had said “gave us”). He had never been to an opera, but he knew that an opening night was a grand occasion. He did remember Nicky, the beautiful married man that Adam had played with, and he knew that his wife was an opera singer.

“Oh yes! That would be amazing! I’m not exactly dressed right, though." Owen was still wearing Adam's sweatpand and t-shirt. "Would I have time to go home and change? But I don’t own a tux or anything like that.”

“You won’t need one. We’ll just go to the private party afterwards, and, besides, I don’t want you looking like a waiter. But you could use a decent suit, Owen, let’s go get you one.”

“I should clean up in here first.”

“Just leave it. I have someone to do that. Gus will come by.” Adam employed Gustavo and Anna, a couple who cleaned and ordered the homes of the men in his circle. They were very discrete and quite unfazed by what they saw in the men’s homes. Adam wasn’t a Dom who expected or wanted domestic service from his subs. But he was learning that Owen wanted this, and that he should try to make space for Owen to serve him in the ways the boy clearly enjoyed.

Adam was feeling good. He loved the opera with a passion, and he liked to introduce Owen to new things. He also loved to adorn his boy in sexy new clothes. He whisked Owen out of the building. Frank, the doorman, was on duty again, and as they passed him with Adam’s arm round Owen’s shoulders, Owen saw Frank smile for the first time.

Adam insisted on coming into the fitting room with Owen, “just to make sure everything is the right size.” Apparently this required a fair amount of adjusting the way Owen’s cock sat in relation to the front of the pants, and smoothing down the seat to ensure a proper fit over his buttocks.

“Very nice,” Adam said when they had decided on the suit. He ran his hand down the side of Owen’s face. “You look very handsome.” Owen burned with pleasure and pride.

They added a shirt and tie, and then Adam took his time to pick out some new underwear for Owen. It was made clear that Owen had no say in this particular purchase. Adam melodramatically failed to decide between three ridiculously expensive designer pairs, and bought them all.

They took the train to New York. Adam drew Owen close to him and they talked in quiet voices about what had happened yesterday. It was painful for Adam to discover how Owen had gone to Mark Emerson for punishment, but he knew that it was important for hear about it. When they got on to the point where Patrick had rescued him, Owen’s eyes lit up and he talked animatedly about meeting Patrick.

“Yes, we should thank Patrick,” Adam said. “Perhaps I should thank him with your ass, what do you think?” Owen grinned nervously. He remembered how intimidated he had been at first, but he knew that Patrick had saved them. He wondered what Patrick’s relationship was with Adam. There was still so much to learn.

They took a taxi from Penn Station to a hotel just across from Lincoln Center. Adam had booked a suite and Owen scampered round excitedly, testing the bed and checking out the bathroom. He had never stayed in such a grand place before. Adam shooed him into the shower and then watched approvingly while he dressed in his new outfit.

The performance was a double bill. Owen couldn’t make much sense of the first opera. It had just one character in it—a woman who seemed to be looking for someone. Owen tried to follow the translation on the little screen in the seat in front of him. He realized that the woman was looking for her lover who was dead. He glanced anxiously up at Adam—he knew that Adam was still mourning Seth, but he had his eyes closed. Owen wanted to hug him, but he thought you probably weren’t allowed to do that at the Metropolitan Opera.

The second opera was the one Adam had described to him after their play session with Nicky. It was called Bluebeard’s Castle. Elena Rostov, Nicky’s wife, was starring in it. Owen didn’t understand it at first, but then he felt himself drawn in. The woman’s name was Judith, and she was obviously in love with her new husband. She was trying to break through the black curtain of Bluebeard’s past and his earlier wives, hidden away in the shadowy depths of his castle.

Owen wasn’t really sure what happened in the end, but it didn’t matter because Adam’s hand was on his thigh and Adam’s voice spoke in his ear: “Owen, my beautiful boy. You bring me such light.” Owen shuddered with pleasure as Adam’s hand gripped him more firmly and moved up to his groin. Evidently Adam felt he was entitled to do that at the Metropolitan Opera.

The curtains took a long time and Elena Rostov was showered with flowers and applause. But Adam got Owen out of the opera house eventually. The party was in the same hotel that they were staying in, just a few minutes away. It was a grand occasion but not as formal as Owen had feared. The guests were dressed in all sorts of styles, from formal tuxes and dresses to a couple of men sporting jeans and mohawks.

Owen tried to stick close to Adam, but Adam was clearly in demand. Owen found himself lost in the throng, until a handsome man in evening dress spoke to him and asked him how he had enjoyed the opera. Owen said honestly that he hadn’t heard music like that before, but he had been very moved by the lovers in Bluebeard’s Castle.

The man seemed very pleased and thanked Owen: “It’s wonderful to get the response of new audience members. I’m really happy you had that reaction. You’re here with Adam Strickland, I think?”

Owen nodded excitedly, and introduced himself. He loved to think that he was “with” Adam. The man said “It’s very good to see him with someone again. He’s had a hard time lately. It’s nice to see him getting back into things.”

Owen wasn’t sure what to say, but he didn’t have to, as Adam appeared at his shoulder and said, “Maestro, it’s wonderful to see you. A superb performance. Many congratulations.”

“Thanks, Adam. But it’s especially good to see you after all this time. Nicky told me you might come. I’ve just been chatting with Owen here.” He turned to Owen and said meaningfully, “I was so pleased you enjoyed it, Owen. I know Bartok isn’t easy for a first time. But it’s good to see Adam out of his castle.”

Adam smiled and inclined his head a little. “Owen has been good for me,” he acknowledged. Owen’s whole being rippled with pleasure.

The man moved on, and Adam told Owen that he had been the conductor of the performance. Owen was thrilled. The whole evening was exhilarating. Waiters were circulating with trays of champagne and he had already had a few glasses. A table was laid with elegant small dishes and Adam steered him towards it. He felt too excited to eat, but Adam said forcefully in his ear: “You’d better eat something, boy, you’re going to need some energy.” Owen felt Adam’s hand grabbing his butt. He obediently reached for a plate that looked more or less like normal food.

The room fell silent as Elena Rostov entered on Nicky’s arm to a ripple of applause. They looked stunningly exotic and the guests clustered around them. Adam gave Owen a wicked look and provocatively pushed a canape into his mouth. “Let’s get out of here, boy. I need something more than this to satisfy me.”

It was nearly midnight when they got back to their suite but Adam had been aroused by the performance and the party and was in no mood to wind down. A bottle of an aged Scotch whisky he had ordered earlier sat on a table with two glasses.

“I’m going to shower, Owen," Adam said. "Have my drink ready for me when I return.” Owen carefully poured some scotch into one of the glasses. He knew how Adam liked it and added a few drops of water.

Adam returned, wearing a dark red silk robe. He sat back on the sofa and laid beside him a black silk bag that Owen hadn’t noticed him packing. Owen thought how handsome and decadent Adam looked. The robe hung loosely from his shoulders, framing Adam’s chest with its thick curls of dark hair flecked with gray. Owen longed to kiss and lick that chest. The edge of the robe bisected a nipple. Owen’s mouth watered.

Adam was ready for Owen to serve him. “Where’s my drink, boy?”

Owen brought Adam his scotch and knelt to offer it with his head bowed. Adam smiled. He rarely insisted on protocols but he was learning that Owen enjoyed the rituals of submission. It amused him. He was also learning how much he enjoyed Owen’s serious dedication to these little ceremonies. He accepted the glass and briefly ran his hand through Owen’s hair to reward him. He took a sip of whisky and put his hand under Owen’s chin to pull his mouth up to his own. As he kissed him, he let the smoky liquid flow into Owen’s mouth and they bathed their tongues in it. The fire of the scotch and the force of Adam’s kiss ignited Owen, and he felt his cock jump.

Adam sensed the spark within Owen. The fuck that morning had confirmed how much they wanted each other’s bodies and he was ready to take Owen in any way he pleased. But he was in the mood to appreciate him slowly. He told Owen he could rise and then pointed to a spot a few paces in front of him. Owen quickly moved backwards to stand there.

Adam sat back. “I’m going to enjoy you, Owen,” he said. Show me what’s mine to enjoy. Make it good.”

Owen remembered the very first time he had gone to Adam’s apartment—how self-conscious he had been about his body, and how Adam’s authority had gradually overcome his embarrassment. Now all he wanted was to display himself for his master.

“Take off the pants. Leave the shirt on.” Owen did as he was told.

“Now your underwear. Slowly. And turn round.” Owen inched his briefs down the mounds of his ass and left the waistband hooked under his cheeks to push them up sluttishly for Adam.

“Very artistic, boy,” Adam said. “Now face me. Play with your dick. Let me see you get hard.”

Owen didn’t need much encouragement. His cock quickly stood to attention, bobbing up at the hem of his shirt. It was a view Adam liked. He touched himself lightly through the robe and then took his hand away. He would allow Owen the privilege of getting him hard.

Owen’s cock was throbbing with excitement. “Hands off, boy,” Adam ordered, “I’ll take charge of that dick now.” Owen quickly dropped his hands and Adam ordered him to remove his underwear.

“Turn round. Show me your ass.” Owen’s movements were controlled by Adam’s voice. “Spread your legs. Bend over, Owen, show me what you have for me.”

Owen grabbed his own ankles and felt his buttocks parting to expose his anus. He could almost feel Adam’s eyes on him, boring into his passage, and it excited him. He remembered the first time he had been in this position, and how he had worried that he wasn’t fit or muscular enough. Now he knew from experience how much Adam liked to fill his hands with Owen’s broad ass. He allowed himself a little provocative jiggle.

Adam’s voice was warm with approval. “Very good, boy. But I think you need some jewellery.” Adam’s hand slipped into the black silk bag. “Stand up and put these on.” He tossed Owen a pair of nipple clamps linked by a chain.

Owen winced as he put them on and Adam smiled sadistically as Owen’s chest flexed in response to the pain. “That’s much better. They show you off beautifully. Now get over here.”

Owen scurried over to his favorite place between Adam’s legs. Adam took his time. He pulled Owen’s shirt down to his elbows so that his arms were held behind his back. Then he dipped his fingers in the scotch and pushed then into Owen’s mouth, driving the boy wild with anticipation and desire for his cock.

Adam pushed Owen’s head down and reached for something else from the silk bag. Owen let out a long, slow sigh of relief as he felt the leather of his collar circle round his neck. The collar tightened to its precise, familiar tension. He let out a long, deep sigh. He was restored.

“Are you ready for me, Owen?” Adam said.

“Oh, yes Sir.”

Adam took Owen’s head in both hands and tilted his face up. “I don’t just mean now. Are you ready for me to take you? Are you prepared fully to submit to me and suffer for me? You’ve seen what I need, Owen. What I am. Are you ready for that?” He tweaked the chain between the clamps on Owen’s nipples to remind him. He needed Owen to be sure.

Owen looked up into Adam’s face. The shot of pain through his nipples had convinced him. He said with absolutely conviction, “I’m ready.” He wanted to be taken. He craved it. And now he was beginning to understand Adam’s need for him. He knelt, passive and obedient, waiting for Adam to use him.

Adam’s voice was low and husky. “Please me, Owen. You know where to start.” Owen did know. He took each of Adam’s balls into his mouth in turn, rolling his tongue round them, intoxicated by the familiar scent of Adam’s crotch and the prickly sensations of his pubic hair against his face. He bathed Adam’s balls with his tongue, aware of the big cock above them swaying against his face. He looked up hopefully.

Adam held his cock an inch from Owen’s mouth. “This what you want boy?” It was exactly what Owen wanted. Everything he revered about Adam—his beauty, his power, his knowledge, his wealth, his success—all become suddenly concentrated for Owen in Adam’s cock. He fastened his eyes on the bulbous head, glistening with a drop of pre-cum, and the way it swayed in front him even at half-mast. He breathed in Adam’s musky scent, inhaling deeply and preparing himself or the ultimate fulfillment of taking that cock inside him.

Adam teased him with one finger on his forehead, holding him back with the lightest of pressure. Adam stroked his own cock as Owen’s eyes followed his hand, longing to take the cock in his mouth. Adam gave him permission and Owen eagerly opened his mouth. Adam kept his hand on Owen’s head, guiding him onto his dick and moving his mouth to award himself exactly the pleasure that he wanted.

Adam gave Owen orders. “Just lick the head … now take it deep, all the way down, boy”. But he didn’t need instruction. He was getting used to taking his cues from the changes in Adam’s breathing and the sounds he made. He held each of Adam’s precious balls in his hands as his tongue tasted the sweet, salty drops on the tip of his glans.

“Suck me, Owen,” Adam said, and he did, drawing Adam as deep into himself as he could. The difficulty of getting Adam past his gag reflex no longer mattered.

“Hands behind your back!” Adam had taken something else out from the bag and was securing Owen’s wrists in leather restraints. Owen had to work hard to keep his balance as he hungrily sucked the cock. Adam was fully erect and the hard, thick rod filling Owen’s mouth overwhelmed him with pleasure. He pulled back a fraction to savor the details—the veins of Adam’s throbbing cock and the rigid edge of the glans, now shining with Owen’s spit mixed with pre-cum.

Owen closed his eyes to focus on the taste and feel of Adam’s cock as he worshiped it. Suddenly he felt the smack of something against his ass. It was the sharp pain of a leather paddle but Owen welcomed it. He felt his senses expand to absorb the pain as an extension of Adam.

He was almost disappointed when Adam pulled his cock from his mouth, replaced it with the paddle and ordered him to the bed. But he knew there was more to come and he obeyed at once. He scrambled over the bed and knelt on all fours to await Adam’s next move.

Adam looked down at his boy. He was on all fours, completely passive and submissive, but little twitches of his ass betrayed how much he wanted this. He ran his nails down Owen’s spine, and toyed with his entrance, circling it with a finger to make it pucker. Owen’s whole body was so responsive—his aching need for Adam was transmitted through every sinew of him.

Adam pulled him upright on his knees and knelt behind him with an arm clamped round his chest. He took the paddle from Owen’s mouth and teased him with it, rubbing it against his nipples and giving little chastising slaps to his erect cock. He whispered in Owen’s ear, telling him what would happen if he came without permission. Owen’s cock only got harder in response. Adam could feel the passion coiled within him.

Adam hesitated for a split second as he remembered the way he had lost control last night. But the heat of Owen’s body as he leaned back against him and the beautiful, pale skin of his shoulders and chest drove him on. He pushed Owen’s shoulders down and ran his hand over his ass to prepare him.

Owen shuddered as the paddle struck him. He heard Adam say, “Keep that ass up, boy!” He struggled to obey but the force of the paddle and Adam’s will were too much for him. He fell sideways onto the bed, twisting his body at every stroke, not to avoid the pain but to follow the way Adam’s needs flowed into him through the blows.

Owen squirmed and whimpered. He loved the way the restraints paradoxically set him free. He was overwhelmed with sensation—the sting of the paddle, the control of the cuffs and his struggles against them all filled his body with a euphoric energy. He moved in concert with the paddle as it kissed his skin with a fiery pain. As he rolled helplessly on the bed, the cuffs supported him and held him up on an ecstatic threshold between pleasure and pain.

He glimpsed Adam’s face, frowning in concentration as he decided where to place the blows, and all his love for his master coursed through him. The sensual torture of Adam’s attentions and his own thrilling enjoyment kept Owen on a wire of need and longing. He gave up everything to his master. His body, his nerves, his cock—whatever would please Adam.

Adam was enjoying himself. He had noticed Owen’s erect cock and it reassured him that he hadn’t damaged the boy last night. His hand slipped down to fist his own dick as he smacked the paddle onto Owen’s skin. His balls ignited. The heat of his arousal shot through him as he feasted on Owen’s submission and the way the boy offered up his body. He was choreographing Owen’s reactions in a kind of dance. He played Owen like an instrument, drawing in to himself the vibrations of the paddle against his skin and contortions of Owen’s body until his cock demanded to be satisfied.

It was time for Adam to fuck his boy.

Adam removed Owen’s restraints. He was overcome with the desire to use his own body to restrict his boy, to feel Owen flexing and straining to take his cock under his control. He pushed Owen down onto his stomach and wrenched his arms above his head.

“Keep your hands there. No touching yourself.” Adam knew he no longer had to tell Owen what to do. The boy’s submission was intoxicating.

Owen lay face down on the bed. He felt Adam’s chest pressing on him. Adam’s fur was damp with sweat as it rubbed against Owen’s back. He shuddered with excitement as Adam’s dick positioned itself at his entrance. There was a sharp flash of pain as Adam bit Owen’s neck and his cock drove through his sphincter at the same time.

Owen pushed his ass out to receive Adam’s cock and then felt himself shoved back down onto the bed with the force of his fucking. Adam’s big body covered him. The weight of Adam’s chest pressed him down, knocking the air out of his lungs as Adam pounded his ass. He sank down into the bed. His own body seemed to lose its shape and to become one with Adam’s thrusting, driving body. He didn’t know whether he was pushing up to receive Adam’s cock or down to stimulate his own. It was all one. He felt he was part of Adam.

The relentless drive of Adam’s fucking him overwhelmed him with joy—not just the wonderful friction of the cock in his ass, but a rapturous sense that he was the source of Adam’s pleasure. He felt as if he was melting, his inner passage remolded to the shape of Adam’s red hot cock.

He was taking Adam’s full length now; its wonderful thickness seemed to extend even beyond his rectum until it took possession of his whole body, running through him like a core of iron. He was bucking and shuddering with Adam’s thrusts. There was no possibility of holding back now and his cum flooded out of him onto the bed.

Adam felt his boy’s orgasm as Owen’s passage contracted and spasmed on his cock. All of Owen’s submission and need, and the hot depths of his body, fueled Adam’s lust and he exploded in Owen’s ass. His jock jerked uncontrollably as he came, shooting spurt after spurt deep into the boy to make him his own.

Adam lay for a long time on Owen’s passive body as his cock slowly softened in his ass. He shifted his weight to feel the soft, smooth contours of Owen’s buttocks and his back. His exhilaration subsided into a sleepy contentment. He kissed Owen’s shoulders and told him what a good boy he was, so sexy, so obedient. At last he rolled off Owen, sighing with pleasure.

Owen glanced nervously at the wet patch on the bed. He had come without permission. But Adam was smiling tolerantly at him. “You won’t get away with that, you little slut. You’ll discover the consequences soon enough.” He slumped back on the bed. Owen was delighted and proud at how satiated Adam was. And the deferred punishment was a wonderful promise of their future couplings.

It was 2.00 a.m. Adam yawned and gestured vaguely with his arm at the toys and discarded bed covers that surrounded them. “Clean up, boy” he told Owen. Owen carefully retrieved all the toys and restraints and put them back into the black silk bag. He came back to the bed to find that Adam had fallen asleep, his limbs arranged randomly over the bed. Owen gently draped his prone body with a coverlet. Adam didn’t move.

Owen went into the bathroom to clean his teeth. When he returned, Adam was snoring gently. On his back with arms and legs spread out, he looked supremely confident yet strangely vulnerable. His mouth was slightly open in a kind of goofy expression. Owen was overcome with love and desire for him. He crept with the utmost care into the bed, and lay at the side. He wasn’t sure if he had permission to sleep in the same bed as Adam. 

But then Adam turned in his sleep, grunted something unintelligible, and draped an arm over Owen’s chest. And in that moment, Owen knew he had come home.