Becoming Owen

Seth

Owen returned to an empty house. His roommate was out. It was a warm late summer evening but it felt cold. His ass was sore where Mark Emerson’s sub had beaten him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t feel anything.

He sat down mutely on a chair. The jacket he had worn when he last saw Adam hung from the back. He hugged it round himself. There was something in his pocket. His fingers closed round Adam’s collar. For a moment Owen thought about putting it on. But the symbolism was lost. He wasn’t Adam’s any more. He closed his eyes and sat motionless for a long time.

There was a ring on the doorbell that Owen barely heard. It sounded again, longer and more persistent. Mechanically Owen went to the door and opened it. The door-frame was filled by a very tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in an expensive suit.

“Owen Dillon?” the man asked.

For a moment Owen thought he was in some kind of legal trouble. A horrible scenario flashed across his mind. Adam was a very well-connected attorney. Had he sent this man to arrest him? Did Adam hate him that much?

The stranger didn’t wait for him to answer. “My name is Patrick Butler. I’m a friend of Adam Strickland.”

Patrick saw the fear in Owen’s face. “It’s all right, Owen, just get in the car. I’ll take you somewhere we can talk.” He put his hand on Owen’s shoulder and guided him from the house and over to his car.

Owen sat silently in the passenger seat next to Patrick. He didn’t dare hope that Adam was thinking about him. Then he plucked up courage to say, “Sir, how did you know? How to find me, I mean. Did Adam …?”

Patrick cut in quickly. “No. Someone else told me what happened to you with Mark Emerson, someone who thought you hadn’t been treated well.” Patrick did not want to get caught up in arguments between doms. He had been surprised to get the call from Mark Emerson’s sub, Phillip. He had found Owen’s address from Clara, the PA of Owen’s boss. They had had a brief but informative discussion about Owen and Adam.

As Patrick drove, he looked briefly across at the boy. Owen was nice-enough looking. A bit vanilla—he couldn’t quite see Adam’s attraction to him. But then there was something pleasantly innocent about him with all his emotions written on his broad, open face. Patrick could imagine Owen’s submission and the possibilities it invited. He sighed inwardly. It was not always easy to help Adam.

Patrick pulled up at a bar. He gave the valet an enormous tip and said, “Just run it round to my house when you have time, would you, Kevin?” Then he put his hand on Owen’s back and ushered him inside. Owen dimly recognized the bar where Adam had first taken him all those months ago. It seemed an age away now.

Patrick took him over to a quiet table away from the bar and sat opposite him. The boy looked lost. He seemed so vulnerable. Patrick never took on boys like this. He felt momentarily uncertain what to say. “You look like you need a drink, Owen. What will you have?”

A little shoot of confidence pushed up in Owen’s mind. The memory of his first time with Adam at the bar was becoming more real. He remembered how he hadn’t known what to ask for then, and Adam taken over. He remembered that first intimation of the way Adam could control him—that moment when Adam’s fingers had closed round his wrist as he held a wine glass. 

He said, “Could I have a glass of white wine, please?” That was what Adam had ordered for him, that first time.

“Of course.” Patrick summoned a server and ordered two glasses of an expensive Burgundy. One of the waiters, Michael, had seen Patrick come in and had assigned himself to his table. Patrick was a legendary figure among the employees of the bar, although these days he was a rare sighting. Michael had lost no time in seizing his opportunity. He brought the wine and gave Patrick a meaningful look, which Patrick ignored. Patrick leaned slightly over towards Owen.

“Now, Owen. I’m going to tell you some things I think you should know. What you do with them is up to you.”

Owen waited. He felt frozen in the moment. Patrick tasted the wine and went ahead with his story.

“I understand from someone—you don’t need to know who—that you have parted company with Adam, and that the subject of Adam’s previous partner was raised.” Owen struggled to reconcile Patrick’s formal, impartial language with the emotional hurt he was feeling. But it gave him a little hope.

Patrick tasted the wine and considered his words. “I believe that Adam may not have acted in his own interests. Or yours. So I’m going to tell you some things that happened to Adam two years ago.

“Adam Strickland’s last partner was Seth Bergman—a very well-known young artist. Adam was in a long-term relationship with Seth and they were pretty exclusive. Sometimes Seth was a sub at the kind of BDSM party I understand you went to, but otherwise he and Adam were together. Seth wore Adam’s collar. Do you understand what that means?”

Owen’s throat contracted and he fought back tears. He understood only too well what that meant. He nodded.

Patrick continued: “So you will understand that it was a very close relationship. They were planning on Seth moving into Adam’s apartment. Then something very terrible happened.”

“Seth died,” said Owen. A horrible realization had dawned on him.

Patrick looked at him. “Yes, how did you know?”

“Mr Emerson …” Owen’s voice trailed away.

“Did Mr Emerson tell you anything more?”

“No. He told me Seth was dead but he didn’t tell me that Seth and Adam were together. He just said that Adam had Seth’s paintings. I knew they were important … I just wanted to see them because Adam…. I found his collar ... Seth’s I mean. Then Adam …” tears started to tumble from Owen’s eyes. Patrick reached over and took his hand.

“It’s all right, Owen, you’re not the villain here.” Patrick’s presence was commanding. Owen felt calmer. “Now I’m going to tell you what happened to Seth. You already know that Adam has some specific sexual preferences.” Owen nodded yes. “One of them is breath play.”

Owen didn’t know what that was and he look puzzled. Patrick saw his confusion and realised that Adam had never played with Owen in this way.

“Breath play is when the dom restricts oxygen to the sub. Many men find it highly erotic and Seth loved it more than anything else. Adam loved Seth, so they played that way many times. But it was never quite enough for Seth. He experimented on his own. There came a day when Adam couldn’t get Seth to answer his phone at a prescribed time. That was very unusual. Adam called the police and they found that Seth had died accidently from auto-asphyxiation.”

Patrick saw Owen’s look of confusion. “Seth had restricted his own oxygen supply, Owen. He had played by himself. It went very wrong and he died.

“Adam blamed himself. When he found out that Seth had been playing on his own in a way they both knew was dangerous, he thought he hadn’t given Seth enough, that he hadn’t been enough for him. Adam felt that Seth was his responsibility and that he hadn’t taken care of him.”

The glass of wine lay untouched in front of Owen. When Patrick paused he took a big mouthful.

Patrick finished his story. “Seth was alone when he died, but Adam still felt responsible for him. He thought he had betrayed Seth. He became very detached. He didn’t talk to anyone. As far as I know, he just fucked and beat boys casually when things became too much for him. You were the first man he saw regularly after Seth died.”

Owen registered that Patrick saw him as a “man” in Adam’s life. His mind was suddenly full of questions. “Please, can I just ask one thing?”

“Go ahead.”

“Was Seth … was he at all … like me?”

“I don’t know you, Owen,” said Patrick. Then he relented. “No. He wasn’t like you.” His mind slipped backed to Adam’s beautiful, gifted, difficult partner with his addiction to playing at the edge. Many men had been envious of Adam’s ownership of such a rare boy, Mark Emerson chief among them.

“Seth needed a lot a discipline. And Adam gave it to him.”

“I just want to be with him.”

Patrick looked at the boy and saw the yearning in his eyes.  He said quietly, “I know you do, but that’s all I have to say. If you want to be with Adam it’s now up to you. I’ll take you to him. You have to be brave, Owen, if you want him. You’ll have to fight for him.”

Patrick beckoned over the waiter, payed the check and as he stood up he said, on a sudden impulse, in Michael’s ear. “I know what you want, you little fucking slut. I’ll be back in 15 minutes. I’m going to fuck you in the ass.” Then he walked Owen the short distance to where Adam lived.

Patrick took Owen into the building and said to the doorman “I’m going up to Mr Strickland’s apartment, Frank. Just tell him it’s me—no one else.” The man clearly knew Patrick. He nodded impassively and called up to Adam.

Patrick knocked hard on the door of Adam’s apartment until he opened it. He strode in, and before Adam could do anything to stop him, he pushed Owen into the middle of the room and said loudly, “Adam, you are going to talk to this boy. You will not throw him out until you have done so. Do you understand me?”

Adam didn’t say anything but he didn’t object either. Patrick continued in a firm voice, “You will do as you’re told on this occasion, Adam. You, boy, you’re on your own now. Good luck.” And he left the two of them together.

As he left the building he caught a quizzical glance from the doorman. Patrick shrugged and told him, “I just don’t know, Frank. Mr Strickland can be very difficult.”

***

Patrick checked the time. Colin, his husband, had told him to be back for dinner at 7.30. But he remembered his words to Michael, the waiter, as he left the bar. He was ready for this. It had been a long, long time since Patrick had had a random fuck with a casual boy, but he didn’t care. He needed something to take the edge off the frustration of dealing with other men’s problems.

He returned to the bar and walked straight through to the back yard with Michael immediately following in his wake. Two of the other waiters and a kitchen boy had gathered. Patrick was a rare visitor to the bar and his reputation preceded him. There was a healthy competition among the boys to fuck the powerful gay men who frequented the bar and Patrick was a prized specimen. Michael was smirking like he’d won the golden ticket.

Patrick took off his coat and one of the waiters immediately stepped up to hold it for him. He put out his hand and someone pressed a condom into it. The bar staff had evidently come prepared and they were hoping to be next in line.

Michael’s tongue was hanging out and Patrick didn’t waste any time. He pointed to a trash can and ordered, “Bend the fuck over that.” Michael grinned, pulled down his pants and presented his ass.

Patrick unzipped and a murmur of approval ran through the onlookers as he took out a very large, uncut cock. One of them saw his chance and got quickly on his knees in front of Patrick to suck him. It didn’t take long to get him hard. Patrick was more than ready to enjoy a quick, dirty fuck for once. His dick was throbbing with a will of its own.

He thanked the boy, removed his erect dick from his mouth and rolled on the condom. Michael was practically wagging his butt with excitement and it earned him a quick, hard spanking. Then he felt the cock pressing at his anus. He reached back to hold his cheeks apart to give Patrick complete access to his passage.

“All right, you dirty fucking cock-whore. I’m going to give you what you want.” It was a relief to Patrick to get back down to basics. He shoved his dick in hard.

As soon as Michael felt the head pushing past his entrance he begged for more cock. It was a struggle to take all of Patrick but Michael knew what he was doing. Michael loved the sleaziness of the setting, like the bitch he was, and he appreciated an audience. He yelped and whimpered as the huge cock plowed into him.

Patrick rode him hard. He had fucked many boys like Michael in his time and he knew what they wanted. His cock was aching now to expend itself but he was going to make this last.

The other waiters had their dicks out and were fisting their own or each other’s frantically to make the most of the occasion before they had to go back to work. They crowded closer to watch the thick shaft of Patrick’s dick ramming in and out of Michael’s ass. They all wanted that cock.

Michael was moaning in pure animal lust as the walls of his passage were stretched open. He was shouting out, “Yes! Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me harder! Give me that big dick!” The trash can rattled as Patrick rammed violently into him. 

Patrick could hear the sound of his heavy balls slapping against Michael’s ass. All the frustrations of the day were spent in the simple pleasure of driving his hard dick into a willing hole. He fed off Michael’s wanton need and the sheer dirty abandon of the scene. He grasped Michael’s hips and slammed against his ass over and over until he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Patrick felt his orgasm rising within him and the sweat springing on his chest. He became aware of the sight of his own cock, balls deep in an eager slut with his pants pushed halfway down his thighs and his ass thrust back, begging for as much cock as Patrick could give him.

“Fuck, yes!” He pulled out of Michael’s ass, ripped off the condom and shot a huge load over the boy’s back. He raised his head to see a semi-circle of cocks spurting out their cum in time with his own orgasm.

Another of the waiters was quickly on his knees to clean Patrick’s dick and to see if there might be a second round, but Patrick was done. “That’s all for tonight, lads,” he told the assembled boys. Patrick retrieved his jacket and straightened up his clothes as well as he could. He caught the smug satisfaction on Michael’s face. He smacked his ass once last time and told him, “You can add me to your conquests.”

And then he walked home. It was already well after 7.30 and it would take him twenty minutes to get there. He remembered what Colin had said about being home in time for dinner.

When Patrick got back to the house, Colin was sitting in an armchair, drinking a gin and tonic and reading a novel. Patrick stood before him sheepishly and made his confession: “I’m so sorry, babe, I had to do something for Adam and that boy of his, and I kind of got … side-tracked. I’m sorry about dinner. Did you save anything for me?”

Colin looked him up and down. He read his husband easily. “The question is, Paddy … did you save anything for me?”

All the anger and stress of the day melted from Patrick. He was done with other people’s needs and mistakes and problems. Adam would have to sort his own life out. He sincerely hoped for the best for Owen.

Patrick knelt beside Colin, folded him in his arms and kissed him. He felt an immense gratitude for the way his husband made room in their married life for all his perverted sexual needs.

“Oh babe,” he said, “dinner can wait, let’s go to the bedroom.”

They went upstairs and kissed each other passionately as they undressed, feeling out each other’s tongues in their mouths. Then Colin took Patrick’s hands and drew him towards him as he laid back on the bed. Patrick lifted his husband’s legs and ran his tongue up the cleft in his ass. He sensed the small muscular movements within as Colin opened up to him in response to the thrusts of Patrick’s tongue in his hole. Patrick licked and tongued him for a long time, listening to the quiet moans until he knew that Colin was ready. Then with one movement he lubed his cock and pressed slowly in.

Patrick paused until Colin’s ass adjusted to his width. Colin looked into Patrick’s eyes and told him, “More, babe. Give me what you’ve got.” Patrick pulled Colin’s legs wider and got to work in his ass.

As Patrick began to thrust, he timed his strokes to the looks of pleasure as they crossed Colin’s face. He moved slowly in his lover’s body, enjoying their closeness and wanting to make it last. He ran his hands up and down Colin’s inner thighs and held him wide open. He delighted at the passionate, intimate responses he could draw his husband. After all this time, their interaction equalled the pleasure he got from dispassionately working a sub in a BDSM scene. The little smiles and cries from Colin guided him on.

However often he fucked his husband—and it was often—Patrick always marvelled at the moment when he felt himself deep in the warm, dark recesses of his body. He sang to Colin as he rocked into him: “Oh yes, babe. So hot … you’re so beautiful ... your ass is all mine … you’re mine, baby … feel my cock inside you …. give me that beautiful ass ... that’s it, baby … I love you so much.”

Colin reached up and freed Patrick’s hands, pulling his own legs back to allow Patrick to lean across him and push deeper into him. “Come in me, babe,” he said through his moans. They were locked together in the profound, carnal intimacy of the pleasure they could share only with each other.

 Patrick felt his balls tighten as they hit Colin’s ass. He was so deep now inside the man he loved. He knew he didn’t have much left, but he wanted to come in his husband. The need to give Colin that gift fuelled him for the last stage, and he came in a long drawn-out shudder of pleasure and release.

Patrick moved to the head of the bed and lay down next to Colin, pulling him up onto his chest. His hand encircled Colin’s cock and he played with it, varying his strokes and admiring the way it grew harder at his touch. He sculpted it with his fingers and leaned over to suck it until he sensed that his husband was ready to come. At the very last moment he took his mouth and hands away and smiled as he watched Colin’s cock pulsate and spray his cum out in all directions like an untethered hose.

Colin laughed at his perfect timing. “How do you do that?”

“Practice, babe.” Patrick licked the cum from Colin’s round belly in long, sensuous strokes of his tongue.

Colin lay back luxuriantly and said. “That’s not going to feed you. God knows what state the dinner’s in. Let’s go out to eat.”

“You forgive me for ruining your cooking?”

“I forgive you. This time. “

Patrick and Colin dressed quickly and went out, hand in hand, into the late evening air.

***

Owen stood in Adam’s living room where Patrick had left him. Adam was standing several feet away from him, his face blank. Neither of them had spoken.

“Adam, I …” Owen’s voice sounded tiny in the large room.

Adam spoke for the first time in what seemed a long time. “You betrayed me.”

“No! … I just wanted … I wanted to be closer to you … I wanted to know how you felt ….”

“You disobeyed me and betrayed me.”

“Please Adam! Please listen to me! Give me another chance. Just let me tell you ….”

“Why should I listen to you when I can’t trust you?” How could Adam’s voice be so calm when so much was at stake? 

Something suddenly snapped in Owen. He knew that it was now or never. He felt the injustice of the situation rise within him and the numbness he had been feeling began to thaw. His words poured out.

“Why? Because I have done everything you asked from me … I’ve obeyed you in everything you told me to do … everything, Adam! I just …”

Adam interrupted: “You have not obeyed me. I took you in because I thought you wanted discipline. Evidently I wasted my time.”

“I made one mistake! One!”

Adam’s voice was suddenly not so calm. “You hurt me.”

The words came tumbling out of Owen. “You think I’m not hurt? I’ve been in hell. Every moment away from you has been torture. I even went to Mr Emerson … I needed something ….”

“You did what?”

Owen couldn’t bear that Adam was so controlled. He pressed on as if somehow he could break through that frightening self-possession. “I thought it would help … I couldn’t stand that you wouldn’t talk to me ….”

“You thought Mark fucking Emerson could help you? You’re more naïve than I thought.”

The mention of Emerson had trigged something in Adam. He started to shake with a rage that he was barely containing. But Owen wouldn’t be quiet.

“No! Christ, Adam, why can’t you understand? I went there to be punished because you wouldn’t punish me. I gave you everything and you wouldn’t punish me when I did something wrong. After all you said. You fucking selfish bastard!”

Adam gave a horrible smirk, “Now you’re learning at last.”

Owen couldn’t stop now. Everything depended upon this moment. He pulled off his shirt and stood bare-chested in front of Adam with his palms outstretched. “For fuck’s sake, Adam, this is the only thing I have ever asked of you. Do whatever you want to me. Give me whatever you need to give me … what you gave to Seth.”

Adam took two paces towards him. His face was contorted in a snarl. “You want what I need to give you? Get on your fucking knees!” He shoved Owen down and pulled out his cock. “You want this, Owen? You think you can take it? Is this what you want?” He pushed his cock into Owen’s mouth and thrust deep into his throat. His fingers were holding Owen’s mouth open as he plunged aggressively into him.

Owen let him. He tried to take the cock as it forced its way into his throat. He choked and gagged but kept his mouth open. All he cared about now was opening himself to Adam. He felt as if his skin were stripped away to leave his naked body raw and undefended. He closed his eyes and pushed his throat down on the invading cock, beyond pain, beyond breath.

Then he felt something push him backwards. He fell to the floor and opened his eyes to see Adam standing over him with a whip in his hand. It landed on him over and over again. He was writhing on the ground between Adam’s legs. He could sense the fire on his skin but somehow it wasn’t pain. It wasn’t anything he could properly feel.

He heard himself saying “please … please …”

“Please what? Please stop, or do you want more?”

But Owen couldn’t answer. He knew that somewhere there was a safeword he could use and that Adam would honor it. But it didn’t seem to mean anything. The pain seemed distant now, like waves crashing above his head. His mind wasn’t working right. He found himself wondering if Adam was enjoying this. He wasn’t sure what was happening any more.

He felt himself slipping into darkness. And then the world stood still.

He heard Adam’s voice as if from a distance, very far away. “Owen, come back, please Owen, come back to me.” He felt strong arms around him, lifting him up. Now he was lying on the sofa with his head in Adam’s lap and Adam was stroking his hair and kissing him. He couldn’t feel the pain any more.

He heard Adam say, “Stay there, Owen, don’t leave me.”

Adam was gone for a few moments and then Owen felt himself being wrapped in a warm blanket. There was something pressing at his mouth. He heard Adam say, “Drink this Owen.” He shook his head. “Drink it, Owen, just a little. Please drink it for me.” Adam’s thumb was running across his lips. It was wet, and he tasted honey and lemon. He swallowed a little and then realised his cheeks were wet too. Adam was licking away the tears as they flowed down his face.

He heard Adam’s voice like distant music: “Stay with me, Owen, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I hurt you, my brave, beautiful boy. Be with me now, stay with me.” Adam’s arms were round him, enfolding him in something warm and strong. His head was against his chest. Time was paused as he felt himself rocked in Adam’s embrace. A long time passed. Then he felt Adam disentangling him from his arms and he found his own voice from somewhere.

“No, please, Adam, please don’t go.”

Adam kissed him over and over. “It’s all right, Owen, I’m coming back.”

Owen heard the distant sound of water running, and then Adam was back with him and lifting him in his arms. Warm water surrounded him and the scent of oils as Adam bathed him and ran his hands all over him, stroking him softly and telling him what a good, brave boy he was, how sorry he was to have hurt him, how strong and beautiful he was.

A warmth crept into Owen. His hands reached out in the water and Adam caught them and held them in his own. He lifted Owen’s fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “Owen, my sweet boy, you’re safe now,” he said.

A great weariness came over Owen. He felt Adam lift him again, wrapping him in soft towels. He felt weightless in Adam’s powerful embrace. Now Adam was laying him down. He felt so tired. Gradually he became aware that he was in Adam’s bed. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. But he knew that Adam was lying behind him, his big body enfolding him and his mouth moving over his neck and shoulders to plant tender, gentle kisses.

He heard Adam say, “Sleep, now, Owen.” And he slept.