The Party
He and Dylan started hanging out and I was part of the package in a way. Dylan would borrow me from time to time.
The difference was, Damien could hold both things—sub and friend.
To Dylan, I was a party trick.
I didn’t care. It was Damien’s approval I craved.
Dylan never moved in, but he had his own key and Damien made it clear that Dylan gets what Dylan wants.
One Friday night I asked permission to go out with co-workers—just dinner, nothing major. Damien said yes.
When I came home, I found Damien and Dylan had invited over a couple more guys. I dipped my head at the group by way of a greeting and headed toward my room. The living room was thick with smoke and the smell of beer and sweat. The four of them sat on and around the couch, half-focused on the video game, laughing, passing a blunt between them.
None of them acknowledged me directly but the two strangers smirked and whispered.
“Hey, we need a round of drinks and order a couple of pizzas.” Damien said without looking my way. I sat my bag inside my bedroom door and came back into the room with a smile on my face.
“Yes Sir.” Then turning to his friends, “What can I get you?” They all laughed at that. Clearly, they’d been told what to expect. The two new guys mumbled “beer”. I got a good look at them for the first time. One was tall and skinny with glasses and black hair, sort of nerdy. He wouldn’t have been out of place at ComiCon. The other was short, blond, muscular, and cocky.
I started to the kitchen, Dylan cleared his throat. I had forgotten Damien’s order. I stopped and turned to wait.
Damien left me standing there as he continued to play. The others watched with clear anticipation. After two or three minutes, he looked at me for the first time. Dylan smiled from ear to ear.
“What are you wearing?” Damien asked casually.
“I…uh…I just got home.”
“Strip.”
The new guys watched to see what I’d do. Damien turned back to the game, confident in his command. Dylan leaned back in his seat. My heart began to race.
When I started to unbutton my shirt, they howled with laughter. Damien collected his cash winnings as I shed my clothes. Dylan fist bumped Damien.
Once I was naked, he made a hand gesture that meant “down”. I got on my knees, head bowed.
“Better. Ok, two beers sounds like, and me and Dylan’ll have whiskey gingers.”
“Yes, Sir.” I said quietly.
“What was that?”
“Yes, Sir.” I said louder.
“OK and order two pizzas, one cheese and” turning to Dylan “what do you want, pepperoni?”
“Sure.”
I stood. Nerdy guy turned away from me. He was clearly uncomfortable. Whereas the cocky one stared. I went into the kitchen and heard Damien say: “Easiest hundred bucks I ever made.”
“Is he your fucking slave, dude?” It was the cocky one.
“Steve?” I looked up at Dylan’s use of my name. “Are you Damien’s slave?”
My knees weakened. What did Damien want me to say? My eyes flicked to Damien. Dylan looked at Damien then back at me.
“What’s wrong? You can’t answer without permission?”
“I…uh” The moment hung there. The cocky one laughed.
“I think you broke him.”
“Dude, he was already broken.” Dylan again.
“Yes.”
Damien turned to me, smiled.
“Yes. I’m Damien’s slave.”
“He should call you ‘Master’ instead of ‘Sir’.” Dylan said then turned back to the game.
The tension broke.
I faded into the background of service.
At one point as I knelt on the floor, rolling a blunt on a tray, the nerdy guy started for the kitchen. Dylan said “Dude, relax. He’ll get it.” Turning back to the game, “Beer.”
“That’s cool. I can get it.” Dylan gave me a look and I jumped up, padded to the kitchen, pulled one from the fridge, popped it open, and offered it on my knees. “Thank you” he whispered as he took the beer.
When the pizza delivery came, I started to pull on my pants but then heard “uh huh” come from Damien. I met the guy downstairs wearing only a hoodie—barely zipped—and no pants. My face burned. He said nothing, but I could feel his eyes follow me as I walked back up with the pizzas. The guys didn’t pause their game.
I placed slices on plates with napkins and brought them their food, then picked up wrappers and bottles and plates as they finished.
A couple of hours went by this way. The cocky guy, I learned his name was Kyle, kept sneaking glances my way when he thought I wasn’t looking. Whereas the nerdy one, Michael, just focused on the game. Michael was my type. A black-haired version of Damien. I liked being naked in front of him.
“What else does he do?” Kyle asked.
Damien smiled. “Crawl” I dropped to all fours and crawled. Kyle giggled. He was high. The others watched. I saw Michael’s face redden. His embarrassment deepening my own.
“I saw a porno where a guy drank another guy’s piss straight from his dick.” Kyle prompted.
Damien looked at him, then looked at me still crawling in circles. “Sit up” came the command. I felt my stomach flutter, my heart pound. I sat up.
“Kyle, you gotta piss?”
The room went silent.
I’d never been into ‘water sports’. Years ago, a guy had pissed on me. I didn’t like it much. Drinking piss? I didn’t know if I could. I wanted too though. For Damien.
“If I tell you to drink Kyle’s piss, will you do it?”
“I’ll try.”
Damien nodded at Kyle.
“Uh, I don’t…I just went.”
“Well now I have to go. Power of suggestion, I guess.”
Damien stood up, took a step and pointed at his feet. I crawled to him on all fours until I was close enough to kneel in front of him. I looked up. Slow nod. I undid his belt, the button of his jeans, pulled down his zipper.
“Fuck, he’s going to do it. Duuuude.” Dylan said as he leaned closer.
Damien stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at me. He wore a slight smile—not smug, not cruel. Just curious. He watched.
I pulled his pants down just a bit then drew his Calvin Kleins aside and wrapped my hand around his girthy shaft, placing the tip of his cock on my tongue. I waited.
I felt their eyes on me. Dylan’s face inches from mine. Nothing came.
I was surprised by my longing. I ached to taste it. Seconds ticked by. Maybe he was testing me. I looked up into his eyes. My need raw. He relaxed.
The warm stream hit my tongue. I gaged on the metallic taste. Then I gulped the golden flow, swallowing as much and as fast as I could. The stream was faster. His piss filled my mouth. It spilled down my chin, onto my chest and between my thighs; too much of it winding up on the floor. I closed my eyes and drank. He finished and stepped away. I opened my eyes.
“Dude, he got piss on your couch.”
“Clean it up.”
I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me. I moved quickly grabbing a towel from my bathroom. I mopped the couch and then the floor.
Kyle and Michael exchanged a glance then stood to leave. Kyle smirked. Clearly he was happy with the result of his suggestion.
I caught Michael’s eye trying to let him know it was good, I wanted this. He looked at me and I managed a weak smile. He nodded. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I hoped to see him again.
Dylan stood last. I looked up. He made sure I was watching. He mouthed Me next and mimed pissing on me. His frat-boy playfulness making it hot. I nodded. Dylan gets what Dylan wants.
“Dude, I’m gonna head out.” Dylan said as he yawned and stretched.
“Wait up. Let’s split an uber.” Kyle said. Michael was already at the door but paused as the other two grabbed their bags and thanked Damien for a “wild night”.
And just like that we were alone.
The apartment was quiet again. The smell of weed and sweat and piss lingered. I should’ve started cleaning.
Instead, I curled on the floor by the couch, legs pulled to my chest. I stank. I felt...hollow.
I didn’t even hear Damien come in from the balcony until he sat down beside me.
“You okay?” he asked.
I didn’t answer right away. My voice felt small. “I feel ridiculous.”
He tilted his head. “For what?”
“For… liking it. For wanting it.”
Damien shrugged, lighting the end of a fresh blunt. “Why? That’s just sex, man. Or... kink. Whatever label you want. Some people like getting choked. Some people want to be watched. Some want to be humiliated. It’s all the same in the end.”
He exhaled.
“You were happy. We were happy. Nobody got hurt. That’s human.”
I wiped at my cheek. “I just—I always feel like I’m not supposed to want it this much. Like I’m broken or something.”
He leaned back, resting his arm on the couch. “You’re no more broken than anyone else.”
We were quiet for a moment while he smoked. “I probably shouldn't have pushed you so far.”
“No, I was ready. I wanted to. I’d just never done that before.” The words were spilling out. I needed him to know how I felt. Words felt too small to express my gratitude.
“We haven’t checked in since that first night.”
“True.”
“Is this what you want?” he asked pointing at me on the floor with him on the couch.
“Yes. I mean when I placed that ad I didn’t…I wanted to but…”
“You weren’t expecting me.”
“It was too much to hope for. I’ve placed those ads before. Normally just the ad gets me off. No one serious ever responds.”
“Cool.”
“What about you? I mean—are you into it?”
He laughed. “I didn’t think I would be but yeah. Sort of.”
Sort of, hit me. I waited.
“No offense but I never thought of you that way. Before. But that night. Fuck. That was so hot.” He inhaled the smoke again. “Now, well. Still fun.” Exhale. “Like tonight. That was hot. But just don’t expect shit.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not a ‘Dom’ or whatever. It’s fun because I do what I want. When I want.”
“Yeah. That’s hot for me too.”
“I read some reddit posts. A bunch agreed that sub guys like routine.”
“It doesn’t have to be. I’m good with the way things are.” I said, trying to match his casual tone. “I’m new to this too.”
“Good. I don’t always feel like...playing.”
“That works, we’re still friends, right?”
He exhaled as his shoulders dropped.
“Yeah man, we’re still friends.”
I let out a shaky breath, still staring at the floor.
“We can stop if you want,” he added. “Whenever. You just say the word.”
I turned toward him, eyes wide.
“No. Please. Please don’t stop.”
“Okay but do you have limits? Like do we need a safe word?”
“I want to do whatever you want.”
“Yeah, I think I’m getting that," he smiled, "but I’d feel better if we set something up.”
“Ok. If I say ‘too hot’, that means it’s too far. Is that okay?”
He looked at me for a long moment, unreadable. Then he leaned forward, hand sliding behind my neck—not gentle, not rough, just firm. Reassuring.
“Okay,” he said.
I closed my eyes and exhaled.
“Leave this for tonight. Go get a shower and clean yourself up. I had asparagus for lunch.” We both laughed. It felt good to laugh with him. He offered me his hand. I took it. He pulled me up off the floor. We shared a quick embrace before we headed to our rooms. After my shower, I slept hard.
****
The next morning, while tidying the living room, I spotted it—Damien’s notebook. He’d set his backpack by the couch, forgotten to bring it to his room. Did I dare read it? We’re still friends, echoed in my brain.
