Becoming fully Submissive

Developing the Relationship

In his bedroom he introduced me to a whole new experience. He was gentle, and we both giggled a lot as he slowly and very carefully stripped me out of the rubber suit, and removed his own, revealing that he had shaved his pubic hair as well. This was totally unlike the experience in the dungeon. Now he made love to me. Quietly, sensually, passionately as I once again surrendered my body to his ministrations. Now I received the most fantastic sucking I’d ever imagined. My lover was an expert, and he played my member like an instrument.

He followed this up, while I was still catching my breath, by rolling me on my side and entering my butt to give me a long, passionate and absolutely divine fucking. I fell asleep wrapped in his embrace, his now soft penis pressed in my butt crack, with my head in a pink cloud of sated pleasure, and awoke with the sun streaming through the open curtain, to the feel of his rigid member between my thighs.

“Good morning, Mark,” he whispered, his lips, nibbling my ear. “You slept well?”

“Best night ever,” I sighed. Naughtily tightening my thighs on his member, I added, “But I think my master needs something …”

He laughed. “You want some more?”

“Yes, Master, sir.”

“Then on your stomach, and spread your legs wide.”

“Yes, sir.” I grinned as I rolled onto my front. “My pussy needs a good dose of my Master, sir.”

“It’s going to get it,” he growled as he positioned himself, his hard glans touched my opening. “Ready?”

“Read — eee, Oooooh …” I gasped as he sank himself fully into me. I gulped, my own cock rigid and pinioned beneath me. “Sir feels … wonderful, sir. Thank you, sir …”

At this angle it felt different. His cock still touched my gland, applying pressure on it, but unlike the face to face or sideways positions, our bodies had more contact as he fucked me, and my body had little room for response as I was pinned beneath him. It didn’t take long for him to empty his balls deep inside me, then he lay still, pinning me to the bed until his penis slowly slipped free. Then, before I could say anything, he flipped me onto my back, straddled me, and impaled himself on my throbbing cock. 

It erupted almost as soon as it entered him, but he remained seated on my crotch, my softening cock gripped by his sphincter as he grinned down at me.

“What are you, Mark? Who are you? What do you want from the rest of your life?”

“I’m a Gay Fetish Submissive, Master. I’m Mark, a sub who wants to be in rubber, bound, to suck his master’s cock, or to be fucked by his master …” I paused. What did I really want? To get out of the damned hostel was one thing, but I needed to finish college first, and I was barely making enough for my rent and to eat. “I want a master who loves me, encourages me … Someone I can enjoy life with … and not just for sex.”

He bent down, and my cock slipped free as he kissed me gently. 

“Something to work on then.” Moving clear of me he extended a hand. “Come on, shower, clean up the rubber wear, and breakfast. Then we can see what the day brings.”

It brought a lot of work, a nice lunch and a heart to heart talk about my future plans.

“I’ll run you back to the hostel, Mark,” Bruce announced when I finally, and very reluctantly, suggested I should get back to my room and get myself together for classes in the morning. “And I’ll get your video sorted onto a single file for you.”

“The video! Oh yes. Thanks …” Feeling my cheeks flame, I grinned. “I really appreciate …”

“Don’t be silly. Do you think for one moment I would have done this if I didn’t feel something for you?” His arms slipped round my waist. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the time as much as I have …”

“Enjoyed … Bruce, that doesn’t even begin to describe what this has meant for me …” My fingers traced the form of his pectoral muscles as he held me. “If you want to … um … have me again …”

“I’d love to, and we will.” His mouth met mine and I felt the hardness of his gorgeous member pressing against my thigh. “There’s no rush. You’ve got your course to finish, and a lot of things you need to think through. Give me a call anytime you want to talk.” Kissing me again, he made to release me. “Now I better get you back to the hostel.”

“Wait, please …” My hands found his hips and I held him. “Before you take me back, Bruce — sir. Will you give me something to remind me of who and what I am …”

“Depends on what it is,” he said gently. 

“I’d like to go home with your cum inside me … Please fuck me here and now, so I can have that to remember until …”

“What? Here? In the living room?”

“Yes, sir. Standing up …” Undoing my jeans, I pushed them down and my thong. “I want to remember the feeling …”

“Then turn around and rest your hands on the back of this chair.” His kiss was warm and gentle. “Ready?”

I turned and he positioned himself. Somewhere he’d applied lube and his entry wasn’t rough. Nor was the long, slow fuck while he played with my erection. The flood of his cum felt good, and his caresses and kisses were a bonus. Then he relieved me of my own load. The drive home was quiet, neither of us having a lot to say, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts, but, at the hostel, and aware that we were probably observed, I screwed up my courage, and kissed him firmly.

Lying in my cramped room on my uncomfortable bed, gently massaging my erection and tried to imagine it was Bruce’s hand. I liked the feel of being hairless in my crotch and between my legs, and found it better to shave there daily. It had been three long and busy days since he’d driven away, and it felt as if it had all been a dream. A fantasy … My thoughts were all over the place. I longed to be in his arms, in his bed … to have him inside me … fucking me or teasing me as a lay or stood helpless in his control … 

I was just in time to prevent my cumming in bed — something I was always careful to avoid. Explaining the cum stains on the sheets to the cleaner who changed the sheets once a week was embarrassing, and since there was a rigid rule about ‘entertaining’ visitors in our rooms, if she reported me … Another resident had recently been kicked out for something similar. Quietly I slipped out of bed, my grip on my cock almost painful, and managed to shoot it into the small wash basin. Damn, I thought as I cleaned myself up, I hated living this lie, but I couldn’t afford my own place, and this basic room, a shared shower and toilet, and a laundromat in the basement took most of my income anyway. 

Now sleep wasn’t going to happen, so I grabbed my phone. Then hesitated, and grabbed a book instead and tried to read, but Bruce kept intruding in my thoughts. Putting the book down again, I took the phone, opened What’sApp and searched contacts. Found Bruce and typed a message — ‘Hi! Fancy meeting for coffee?’

It was very late so I didn’t expect a reply as I put the phone aside and settled down to make a fresh attempt to sleep. The phone pinged softly. 

‘Better idea. Meet for lunch at Greg’s. Tomorrow?’ 

My pulse raced as I thought of my class schedule. I had an early class and then an evening session booked as a live drawing model. A guy has to earn … Greg’s Burger Bar was really rather special. First, the burgers weren’t anything like you got at the big M or the BK — these really were special. Second, it was a known ‘Gay’ cruising and meeting place, and third, it was popular, and not just with the Gay community. But it was also not likely to be full of my fellow students. Did I care any more? I made my decision.

‘Love too. Time?’

Greg’s was packed when I arrived, and it took a few minutes to find Bruce in the first floor ‘restaurant’ area. My heart sank, a slice of toast and coffee up here cost more than an ordinary burger, fries and a drink at any ordinary burger joint — the kind I normally went to. Standing as I approached, he smiled, greeted me with a firm hug and a very definite kiss on the mouth. I felt my cheeks flame, then responded firmly. The hell with what people thought! I was now well and truly ‘out’, and Bruce was the man who’d given me the gift of accepting my fetish and my sexuality.

“How’s the course going?” He asked as we seated ourselves, his eyes shining with amusement. “This is on me, by the way, so order whatever you like.”

“The course?” I grinned. “It’s doing fine. I’m sort of getting along with it.” The waiter handed me a menu. “I’ve been a bit distracted the last few days, but nothing some time with the right person can’t fix.”

“Hmm, what’s distracted you?”

“A couple of things.” I shook my head, and ordered a Coke from the good looking waiter. “One of my ‘jobs’ has dried up and I need another to fill the gap, but mostly there’s this fantastic person I’ve met and can’t stop thinking about …”

“Really? Anyone I know?” He teased as I coloured up again. “What sort of work are you looking for? I may be able to help.” His grin widened. “On both problems.”

The waiter delivered the drinks, and Bruce ordered the Special Burger — top price on the menu, glanced at me as I hesitated, and said, “Make that two. Mark looks as if he needs feeding up.”

The waiter looked at me and grinned. “Yes, sir. Fries and salad with both?”

“Yes, we’ll both have that.” Bruce nodded. Waiting until the waiter had withdrawn, then asked,  “So, Mark, how are things really going?”

“Mostly okay — at least as far as my course work’s going.” I grinned. “It’s a nuisance that my part-time job is now gone, but I can sort that …” Hesitating, I risked saying, “It’s personal stuff gives me a problem …”

He raised an eyebrow. “You still have doubts?”

“No.” Shaking my head, I swallowed. “I don’t know … you know how it is … I don’t know how to say this, but since … Well, I can’t stop thinking about … and wishing …” I swallowed again, and blurted, “Wishing I didn’t have to live in the bloody hostel on my own for starters.”

“Okay, let’s deal with the easiest problem first. What sort of work do you do to pay your way through college?” 

“I’ve got a job with the student support.” I shrugged. “But it ends the end of this semester — in four weeks. I also do a bit of live modelling for the art school. It pays by the hour and isn’t regular — nor is the art layouts I get from a small advertising agency.” I stopped as the waiter delivered our order. Ye gods, this ‘Super Burger’ really was something super. As he left again, I added, “The Support job covered my rent — just. Anything else I earn goes on food and stuff.”

“Yes, I can understand that. So what you need is a job that covers the rent and a bit more without being too demanding on your time as you tackle your final year?”

“That’s about the size of it.” Taking a mouthful of the food, I chewed and swallowed. It really was good, the secret of Greg’s burgers is that they are home made, pure beef, pork or chicken, and this one was beef. “Oh boy! This really is good.”

“Good.” Smiling, he touched my knee. “Fancy making this a regular event? Every week, a lunch here?” 

“Love too …” I hesitated. “But I can’t reciprocate — unless I win the lottery, or something.”

“So what? Call it my weekly treat. Now,” he held up a hand as I protested. “No argument. Once a week for lunch on my tab. Next, a job for you, can you let me have some examples of the stuff you do for this small ad agency? I have an idea and I’ll need to see what you’ve done.”

“Sure, but not with me, obviously.”

“Great. You can bring them to my place on Saturday.” He smiled. “I’ve a video you might want to watch while I go over them and talk to a couple of people.”

Clutching my art portfolio case, I rang the doorbell, feeling the same butterflies beating my stomach to death as on my last visit. Once again I’d prepared myself carefully, shaving the stubble, then applying the softening cream over the shaved area. I’d given myself an enema and jerked myself off to make sure I could hold out — if he wanted to ‘play’. He opened the door with a broad smile, wearing smart leather jeans, a good quality shirt and expensive shoes.

“Come on in, Mark.” He stopped me as I made to pass him and closed the door with one hand as the other found my waist and drew me into a long and tender kiss. “You’re looking very happy.” His arm squeezed me. “We’ll go to my study and you can talk me through your art.” 

“Thanks … Bruce.” Biting my lip and fighting to control myself, I paused. “Um, there’s something I’ve got to say …” I slipped my free arm round his waist. “I love you, Bruce. I think I’d love you even without …”

“I guessed, Mark, and I think I love you too, but I don’t want to rush our relationship — and finding you a job isn’t dependent on your having sex with me. Okay?” Kissing me tenderly again he cut off my response. “Now show me your work.”

My portfolio spread out on his desk looked minimal, but the memory stick held more and he went through each item carefully. Then he sat back, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Eventually his hand found my thigh and squeezed.

“You’re very talented, and I think I may be able to get you something out of it.” A smile bloomed on his face, and his fingers explored my bulge. “I need to make a few phone calls which may take a while. Want to watch your video while I’m busy?”

My heart flipped. “Yes please, sir …”

“Okay.” He laughed. “But I think you need to be properly dressed and restrained for that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, Master.”

“Then strip completely, fold everything and put it over there. I’ll fetch your suit and we’ll get you properly dressed. Old Sparky is waiting for you.”