Becoming Owen

by Patrick Law

8 Sep 2016 2786 readers Score 8.9 (92 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Sex and Art

[This chapter follows directly from chapter 5]

The next morning Owen woke early, forgetting for a moment where he was. The room was cold, gray and featureless. Then, with a shudder that rippled through his body, he remembered. He remembered the events of last night—the arrival of the strange sub, Adam's frightening and unemotional caning of the boy and then their own passionate fucking. He remembered that he was still in Adam's apartment.

Owen stretched and realized he was still wearing his collar from last night. He ran his fingers along the underside. The leather felt warm to the touch; it reassured him of Adam's presence and the way Owen had given him pleasure last night.

He got out of bed and ventured outside the room. The apartment was quiet with no sign that Adam was up yet. He made his way into the kitchen to get some water. He thought about making coffee for Adam but decided against it. He would wait for Adam to give the orders. The kitchen was a mess again. Owen longed to clean it up but he didn't dare.

Owen showered carefully. He decided to put his underwear back on because he knew Adam liked it. He took a deep breath and knocked timidly on the door of Adam's bedroom. Nothing. He rapped again a little louder and heard a low grunt from within, which he took to be permission. Softly he opened the door and entered the room.

Adam was naked and sprawled on his back across the bed, his long limbs tangled in a sheet. His chest was exposed and his cock lay draped across his thigh. His clothes lay in a heap on the floor where he had dropped them last night. His eyes were closed and his beard was scruffy. A ray of sunlight escaped through the drapes and crossed Adam's chest. Owen drew in his breath. He thought it was the most stunning sight he had ever seen. He just stood there gazing at Adam--he couldn't quite believe that it was real. Adam's body was laid out like a wonderful map of treasures and secrets. Owen was quivering with the desire to explore it.

Adam paid no attention to Owen and appeared to be sleeping again. Owen crept across the room on hands and knees. He reverentially picked up the discarded clothes, and buried his face in them to take in the familiar smell of Adam. Then he folded them neatly and placed them on a chair. There was still no sign from Adam.

Owen crept up onto the foot of the bed. He waited a moment, then tentatively put his tongue on the tip of Adam's cock. This was the first time he had ever initiated sex with Adam and it made him nervous—he was eager to do what Adam wanted but he was lost without Adam's instructions. Even asleep, Adam was dominating him.

There was still no response from Adam. Owen circled the head of his cock gently with his tongue a few times and more daringly ran his lips up and down the shaft, savoring the velvet softness of the skin and the ridges of the veins. He was rewarded by a twitch in Adam's cock, and then another.

Owen took the heavy cock in his mouth, and for several moments he just kept it there, enjoying the taste of it and the way it filled his mouth. He lifted his head a little to feel its weight as he held it between his lips. A sense of great calm and peace came over him. He started gently to massage the tip with his lips, and guessed from a change in Adam's breathing that he was waking.

Owen rested his hands on Adam's thighs—they felt warm and solid and reassuring. He moved down to lick and kiss them, brushing his cheek against the hair, breathing in the man-scent of Adam's crotch and feeling the muscles of Adam's legs as he nuzzled against them.

More confident now, Owen began to alternate between licking and sucking in the way he knew Adam liked. Adam's body shifted to give him access to his cock. It was pretty clear that Adam was awake. His cock stood bolt upright, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Owen licked it off delicately with his tongue. Adam tasted delicious. He burrowed down to worship the balls and Adam opened his thighs a little to let Owen get his face into his crotch. He could feel Adam's cock towering above his head and bumping against his forehead as it moved.

Owen laid his cheek on Adam's thigh for a few moments and marvelled at the beautiful cock riding above his face. He stretched out his tongue to give Adam's cock a little push and watched it sway and pulse in response. Then he went to work.

Positioned above Adam's cock, Owen was able to control the depth that he took it into his throat. He was determined to take it all the way down. With Adam sleepy and languid like this he could take his time. He inched down the shaft until it hit the back of his throat and then picked speed. Hungrily he sucked Adam, enjoying the freedom of being above his cock but wanting more than anything else to please Adam. He heard low sounds starting in Adam's chest and took the cock as deep as he could, gagging a little but loving the sensation of being able to take nearly all of Adam's big dick.

Adam was moaning more loudly now and muttering. “That's it, Owen. Good boy. Just like that, take it down, good boy Owen, that feels so good, stay on my cock, keep it in your mouth., open your throat for me.” Owen felt Adam's hand on the back of his head pushing him down. He opened his throat and felt himself full of the thick cock. And then Adam was coming suddenly and violently in a huge spasm, lifting his hips off the bed and convulsing up into Owen's mouth.

It was too much for Owen to take. He tried to swallow, but most of the cum ended up on his face and Adam's stomach. He wondered if Adam would punish him for not swallowing it all, but Adam was clearly in too relaxed a mood to maintain discipline this morning. He threw his arms back, sighing contentedly, as Owen meticulously licked up all the cum from his body.

Adam was ready to resume control, but first he wanted to reward his boy for his service. There was no hurry. He pulled Owen up towards his face and kissed him deeply, tasting his own cum on Owen's lips. Owen was lying on Adam's chest, soaking up his heat and his strength. He started to lick Adam's neck and then nursed on his pecs, wetting Adam's chest hair with his saliva and tenderly nibbling his nipples. He was almost trembling with pleasure at the way Adam was allowing him complete access to his body. He felt that this was the great privilege in the world.

Adam was sprawled beneath him, still feeling lazy and enjoying such a thorough worshiping of his body. Before long Owen started to feel Adam's cock stirring again beneath him. He sat up and shuffled his ass down expectantly to position himself on the cock. Sitting astride Adam's thighs, he bent down to lick his nipples again. Adam's hardening cock started to find its way instinctively into Owen's hole, but he changed his mind and pulled the boy up beside him in the bed. He was properly awake now and ready to take charge of the day.

“That's quite enough from you, Owen,” Adam said, and smacked him teasingly. “You can't have it your own way all the time, you know.”

“But Sir!” Owen was thrilled at this new, playful Adam.

“I'm afraid you'll just have to contain yourself. Now, let me up, I want to shower.” He pushed Owen off him onto the bed.

“I could make breakfast?” Owen was itching to get into the kitchen and clean up.

“No, boy. We'll go out for breakfast. Would you like that?”

“Oh yes, please, Adam! Thank you!” That was just as good. Owen was delighted at the thought of going out in public with such a handsome, powerful man.

Adam took a leisurely shower. Being woken with a warm, wet mouth on his cock had put him in an excellent mood. He wanted to dispel the dark feelings that still lingered round the visit of Mark Emerson's sub last night. It was time for him to enjoy Owen.

Owen dressed hurriedly and waited for Adam in the living room. He read the titles of some of the books that lay stacked in piles on side tables. Adam seemed to have eclectic tastes. There were law books but also novels and philosophy. He didn't recognise most of the titles. Some of them were in French. He picked up a book called Journey to the End of the Night. The author had a girl's name but according to the blurb was a man. Owen thought he would ask Adam about it later.

He turned his attention to the paintings on the wall. Two of them—clearly by the same artist—fascinated him. They were composed of black, gray and white whorls and circles, with patches of yellow that gave the paintings a livid intensity. They were beautiful but disquieting at the same time. He looked closely in the bottom right corner but couldn't make out the signature. He felt he had a lot to learn about Adam's life.

Adam came into the living room and Owen asked him who the artist was, but Adam just said quickly, “A contemporary painter—no one you'd know,” and changed the subject.

Adam was ready to leave but he noticed that Owen was still wearing his collar. Adam was not ready for this. Maintaining Owen's submission outside the playroom was a responsibility he wasn't willing to take. He reached round Owen's neck and unfastened the buckle. A look of disappointment crossed Owen's face.

Adam laid the collar on a table by the door and said, “Don't worry, boy, it'll be here when we get back.” He gave Owen a kiss. He had something else in mind that he knew Owen would like. But first there was business to attend to.

“Before we go out, there's something we need to talk about.” Adam sat on the sofa and motioned to Owen to join him. He spoke seriously. “Owen, this morning I nearly fucked you without a condom and you were going to let me.” Owen realised that he hadn't noticed this. He had just wanted Adam in his ass.

Adam continued: “We have seen each other's tests. I know you have a boyfriend. You are obviously aware that I fuck other boys, but I mainly use a condom. I am extremely careful about my health and if you agree to be so as well, then we can go ahead and have sex without condoms.”

Owen nodded his head seriously. “Yes, Adam, I would like that.” He trusted Adam absolutely and was happy to accept this responsibility.

Adam went into a room off the living room that Owen hadn't seen before. He glimpsed through the open door stacks of papers and books piled up in no obvious order. This was evidently Adam's study. Owen wondered how someone so meticulous in BSDM could be so untidy. The playroom was always perfectly ordered, with Adam's toys always in the same places.

Adam returned with a sheet of paper and Owen recognized the notes he had made at their second session. Adam added a note. “OK, Owen, no more condoms. We'll trust each other.” He returned the paper to his study, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Right, let's go!” Adam said. Owen felt great, as if he had somehow moved up a notch in Adam's life.

As they left the building, Adam announced, “You'll need fresh underwear—we'll go buy some for you.” They stopped by a store and Adam chose some ridiculously expensive designer briefs for Owen. As Adam paid for them he said loudly, “Why don't you put them on here, boy—the fitting room is right over there.”

The sales clerk raised his eyebrows a fraction. Adam looked directly at him and the man dropped his eyes quickly, a pink flush creeping over his face.

When Owen returned, Adam was still standing nonchalantly by the checkout counter. The clerk was embarrassedly fiddling with some papers. Adam remarked so that the clerk could hear him, “I bet those look good on you, boy. I can't wait to see your sexy ass in them.” Owen was in awe of Adam's confidence.

As they left the store Adam asked, “What did you do with the other pair?”

“They're in my pocket.”

“You should have given them to the clerk, he obviously wanted you.” Owen doubted that this was true—the clerk had looked pretty straight to him—but he adored Adam in this mood. He gave a little involuntary skip, and wiggled his butt happily in the underwear that Adam had chosen for him.

They entered a small, expensive-looking café and a server came over to them immediately.

“Hi Mr Strickland, good to see you again, your usual table's free.”

“Hi Connie, how's the PhD? Ancient Minoans giving you any trouble?”

“They're fine, it's the Ancient Art Faculty I have to deal with. But I've got a field trip to Crete next month.”

“Wow, that's great. Really exciting.”

“Yeah, I can't wait. What are you up to today?”

“Not sure yet. Avoiding work, at least.”

“You should head on up to the Art Museum. The Rubens exhibition opened last night. They have some fantastic loans from the Prado.”

“Sounds good. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Owen?”

Owen had been feeling a little left out. He was pretty sure Connie attended the city's Ivy League school—a far cry from the college where he had earned his qualifications as a paralegal. He had very little idea what this conversation was about. But Connie gave him a radiant smile and said “Hi, Owen!” as if she'd been hoping to meet him all her life.

“Hi, Connie. Yes, sure, Adam, that would be great.” Owen perked up again. The day was going too well to worry about social niceties.

Adam asked Connie for coffee and studied the menu. “You still doing the thing with the beets?”

“The hash? I don't think it's on the menu, but I'm sure they'll do it for you. For two?”

“Yes, please. You're going to love it, Owen.” Owen had taken it for granted that Adam would order for him and the way Adam was leaning over and touching his arm would make him agree to anything. He was rapidly learning that Adam was going to be in charge all day.

The food arrived and they both ate hungrily. Adam ate with one hand and gestured energetically with the other, telling Owen how they made the hash, what the exhibition would be like, and whatever else sprang into his mind. Owen didn't mind what Adam talked about, his voice was enough. Adam was normally so self-contained and Owen felt excited to see him animated like this.

They finished breakfast (Adam left an enormous tip) and took the twenty minute walk to the Art Museum, with Adam chatting to Owen about seventeenth-century painting. Owen loved being educated by Adam, second only to being fucked by him. He wasn't exactly following what Adam said. The tone of Adam's voice and the way he touched his arm for emphasis were Owen's main focus.

The exhibition was quiet at this hour in the morning and they looked at the paintings without interruption. Adam led Owen round, pointing out details of colors and perspective and telling him a little about the history. Adam seemed to know a lot about art. Owen thought Adam probably knew a lot about many things.

Adam kept his arm round Owen's shoulders and maneuvered him round the exhibition, pausing in front of individual paintings. It helped Owen direct his attention to the pictures although he would really rather be looking at Adam.

They stopped in front of a painting and Adam said, “Here's one I've always liked—it's the Duke of Lerma on his horse. Look at his face.” Owen looked carefully at a man in armor on a white horse with a battle raging behind him in the distance. It was obviously heroic, but the man's face was lined and quizzical, his eyes slightly askew. “That's a man who knows about power,” Adam continued. “He doesn't just use it—he knows. The horse is a bit My Little Pony though.” Owen looked at him, startled. He didn't know you could say things like that about great art. He looked back at the horse in the painting. It was kind of true.

The only other visitors to this corner of the museum were a family with a child in tow. The kid was obviously bored and tugging at his mom's hand. As the family moved on, Adam looked at Owen conspiratorially and gestured toward a painting. “Frankly I'm appalled that they allow kids in here. Just look at this piece of pornography!”

Owen read the label: “Peter Paul Rubens, The Rape of Ganymede.”The painting depicted a naked and well-muscled young man in the claws of an eagle. Its huge wings towered above both figures. An exaggeratedly large quiver full of arrows was lined up with Ganymede's ass.

Adam continued his lecture. “Look at this shameless homoeroticism! Zeus—he's the one in the form of an eagle—has abducted the boy to have his filthy way with him. See the way the eagle's tweaking Ganymede's belt into a very nice leather harness? And of course the boy's body is twisted round so that we can all get a good eyeful of that hot muscle ass. Rubens knew what he was doing. And as for that enormous thing practically up the boy's ass … shocking!”

Owen stared, open-eyed. The picture was taking on all sorts of new meanings for him. The quiver did seem unnecessarily large and it ended with a very prominent knob. Ganymede's eyes were raised upwards ecstatically; he didn't seem too unhappy with his predicament.

Suddenly Adam shoved his hand down the back of Owen's pants and groped his ass.

“Adam!” Owen protested anxiously, “what about the security cameras?”

“What about them? The museum can hardly object with all this filth already on display.”

Owen felt an illicit thrill. He was exhilarated that Adam—the big successful lawyer—was playing this public game of risk with him. Adam's hand on his ass felt charged with an electricity that ran through his whole body. He felt Adam's mouth at the back of his neck giving him a sharp bite. Adam's fingers were getting close to his hole.

Adam murmured in his ear, “I need to get inside this hot ass, boy.”

Owen's cock was hardening, and he knew that Adam knew it.

“What a slut you are, Owen. Quite as bad as these paintings. I can see I should get you home before you cause any more trouble.” Owen loved it when Adam called him names like this. He wanted to be a slut for Adam more than anything. He let Adam sweep him out of the gallery, turning his head only to glance at a picture of a semi-naked woman draped across a white bull. “That's Europa getting fucked by Zeus. Rubens again, I'm afraid, copying Titian. Colossal perverts, both of them.”

Outside the museum a taxi appeared—as one always seemed to do for Adam—and Owen was bundled in. On the short ride back Adam ran his hand up Owen's thigh, grabbed his crotch and whispered, not very quietly, “Don't think I didn't see you getting a hard-on in a public museum. You're going to be disciplined for that.” Owen's hard-on returned.

They were quickly at Adam's building. As soon as they were in the elevator, Adam twisted the front of Owen's t-shirt and hauled him into his body, pushing his tongue deep into his mouth for an aggressive kiss. Between kisses he muttered dirty talk at Owen, telling him exactly what would happen to a filthy, sexy boy who couldn't keep his cock down in public.

Owen held himself back from coming there and then. He was quivering with the anticipation of what Adam was going to do to him. All the little attentions that Adam had paid to him during the day had fired him to an almost uncontainable pitch of desire.

Adam dragged him into the apartment. “Get naked, boy, it's time for your punishment. Flaunting your cock like that in public! Actually I should say mycock—your cock belongs to me and you get hard when I tell you to. Understood?” Owen understood. He was ready to submit his cock and everything else to Adam.

Owen could barely get his clothes off before Adam was pulling him into the playroom, with Owen still hopping on one leg to lose his pants. Adam ripped them off Owen's feet then shrugged off his own shirt, pushed the boy onto his knees and looked hungrily round the room at his toys as Owen buried his face in Adam's crotch, breathing in his scent and feeling the heat of his body. His mouth searched instinctively for Adam's dick.

Adam's hands clamped round his head and pulled him back. “Not yet, boy. You're going to have to work for it.”

They were both intensely aroused. Adam couldn't wait to have his boy in his clutches. He abandoned any choice of implement, pushed down Owen's shoulders and began to spank his raised ass. “This is what you deserve, Owen, you naughty, dirty whore. This is for turning me on like that in the Art Museum.” He started to spank Owen in time to his words. “What a shameless boy.” Smack. “You should know better.” Smack. “You need to learn how to behave in public.” Smack.

Owen loved this. He was getting a hard spanking, but the pain was wholly erotic. Being punished for arousing Adam was intensely satisfying. He could feel the heat of his own ass. Between whimpers of pleasurable pain he said “Thank you, Sir,” as Adam's hand landed on his ass.

As Owen's ass grew rosy and warm under his hand, Adam became even more sexually driven. He devoured Owen, biting and licking his butt, possessing him with his hands and mouth. He pulled apart Owen's cheeks and drove his tongue into his hole. Owen was sent frantic with delight at the sensations of Adam's tongue licking and then pushing into him as his beard rubbed against his ass.

Adam's arm was wrapped round Owen's waist as he ate his ass. Owen's mind flashed back to the painting they had seen. He thought Adam was like the eagle, its huge wings engulfing him. He was overwhelmed with Adam's sexual energy. He rolled onto his back in submission, arms and legs spread wide, offering himself for Adam's pleasure and Adam's cock.

“Please, please Sir,” Owen was begging, “please put it inside me. I need it inside me.”

But Adam was pulling him to his feet and standing behind him, arms wrapped round his neck and chest, talking in his ear with his erection pressing hard against the cleft of Owen's ass. “You look so hot, Owen. I want to look at my hot boy before I fuck him hard.”

Adam too had been sexually charged by the art. He attached clover clamps to Owen's nipples—they pinched harder than anything he had used on the boy before. Adam thought about the painting; the long black clamps gripped Owen's body like talons. Owen cried and struggled in his arms against the pain.

Adam was still talking in his ear with a suppressed urgency: “Keep them on for me, Owen. I know they hurt but you look so beautiful like this, so sexy. Accept the pain for me. Take it for me.”

Owen whimpered and squirmed against Adam, the sweat on his back slipping against the sweat on Adam's chest. He was consumed with the desire to submit his pain to Adam's pleasure. Adam's voice was overcoming the pain on his nipples.

“Good boy, that's right. Just a little more.” Adam flicked his fingers against the clamps to send more shudders of pain through Owen. He tightened his arm round Owen's chest to control and possess the power that was flowing from the boy's contortions. He felt Owen's energy coiled in his own arms. It was heady and indescribably erotic to Adam. His cock was rock hard against Owen's ass and beginning to find its way into his hole. Owen squirmed and twisted to get away from the clamps and to get onto Adam's cock. It was perfect.

Adam had to fuck his boy. He half-lifted Owen across the room to the table where he had earlier laid out some toys. There was no time for them now; he swept them onto the floor with his forearm and ordered Owen to brace himself with his hands on the table. He kicked the boy's legs apart, nudged his hole open with the head of his cock and pushed straight into him.

As Owen was bent forward, the clamps swung from his nipples, bringing another surge of pain. Owen couldn't tell the difference between the pain on his tits, the feeling of Adam's cock relentlessly driving into his ass, and the floods of pleasure that came from his submission to Adam. And then he knew that Adam's cock felt wonderful as it hit his prostrate and moved on to open him up deep inside. His ass was stretching and Adam was plundering its depths.

“That's it, boy. So hot and tight on my cock! Can you feel me inside you? Take it all the way. Grip my dick with your ass.” Adam hit the clamps again—hard this time—to make Owen contract his ass on his cock. A wave of passion and desire started in his balls and surged over him. The clamps fell and Owen screamed as the blood rushed painfully back into his nipples.

Owen's screams were fuel to Adam's raging lust. He pulled the boy upright, locking his own arms round Owen's shoulders and held him up on his toes for a standing fuck. He thrust in again and again. They were so close now. Owen could feel Adam's hot breath on his neck. He felt as if his flesh was melting into Adam's. He laid his head back on Adam's shoulder, arching his back and pushing his ass back to receive Adam's cock, to get more of it, to take it harder and deeper.

Adam was fucking him faster now, his balls slapping against Owen's ass and his breath escaping in heavy grunts. He hammered at Owen's hole and the boy took it all, needing to please his Master and amazed at the power and force of the big cock as it pounded in and out of him.

Owen's cock stuck rigidly out in front of him. His hands to touch it but Adam held him fast. Adam said, “Keep your hands off your dick, boy. I want you to come with my cock up your ass. Come for me. Owen. I know you can. Show me how you can come with my cock in you.” He started to grind into Owen's rectum, massaging his passage and making sure to hit his prostate.

Owen was consumed with pleasure and he yelped and moaned, begging for more. He desperately wanted to come, but even more than that he wanted Adam's load in his ass to consummate their first raw fuck.

Adam reached down to cup Owen's balls and at the very first squeeze Owen came in thick white ribbons that shot across the playroom. And at the same time, in a huge spasm, Adam's cock shuddered in Owen's ass as he came in his boy's ass.

They collapsed exhausted on the floor and lay still for a while as they came down from the euphoria of their shared orgasm, their bodies tangled in each other, breathing hard. At last Adam pulled himself up to sit with his back against the table leg. He drew Owen into him. All around them were scattered cuffs, clamps, rope and whips and Owen's cum.

“Look at us, boy,” said Adam “'Still Life with Naked Perverts.'” Owen sighed happily and laid his head in Adam's lap. He never wanted to move from here. He was entranced by the thought of Adam's seed still inside his body. Adam stroked his hair and told him he was a good, obedient boy, softly kissing and biting his neck. His fingers gently rubbed Owen's sensitive nipples where the clamps had been.

At last Adam stood up and walked into the bathroom. Owen heard the shower running and followed him in. He hated being away from Adam's body even for a minute. Adam didn't object when Owen slipped into the shower with him and stood behind him to carefully clean him with a wash cloth. He soaped and rinsed Adam's back and chest and then moved round and knelt before him. He ran the cloth up Adam's legs and then—with utmost care—lifted his cock to clean it and then Adam's sac.

Adam's cock was beautiful even soft. Owen couldn't resist leaning in to brush it with his lips. Through the sound of the water he heard a low chuckle from Adam. “What have I told you, boy? I've obviously been far too indulgent with you today. You'll get my cock when I say you'll get it.”

Owen closed his mouth and looked up at Adam with pleading eyes, blinking as he tried to keep the water out of them. Adam laughed at his persistence and gave in. There was something irresistible about Owen's openness and honesty.

With the water playing over his back and the boy serving obediently at his feet where he should be, Adam felt satisfied. He was aware that Owen was becoming bonded to him. It had been a long time since Adam had spent so much time training a boy to serve him sexually. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do with Owen's devotion. But he was starting to expand Owen's horizons in his mind.

by Patrick Law

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