“Remember, you have to be on your best behavior,” Dario said, driving with a single hand while patting my thigh. “When we step inside, you’ll lose the clothes, and address me with respect. Sir or Master will do. No slip-ups.”
The collar around my neck felt too tight. What had been a safety net before now truly felt like a trap. I wore a plain black t-shirt, black pants, and a pair of black dress shoes that matched the leather, though. As I shifted my weight from one butt cheek to the other, I croaked a shy “Yes, sir, I understand.”
“Good boy,” Dario answered, sliding his hand behind my head. “You wanted to meet my friends. My circle. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“What difference does it make?”
“If you’re not feeling it, we can always go back,” he said, smiling. “I don’t mind keeping you all to myself.”
I relaxed. “You don’t have to ask again. I told you I wanted to go all out on the scenes… whatever that’s supposed to mean. I mean… we’ve been together for what… a month,” I licked my lips. “And you’ve been talking about these crazy parties. So, I want in.”
“Okay.”
“Are… Is everyone discreet?”
“Some masters and slaves flaunt their relationships out in the open. Others don’t, but no one ever gets in anybody’s business. Unless…” Dario’s lips formed a thin line, and he drew a little circle on my scalp.
The lack of response knitted my brows together, as questions flooded my mind. Unless what? What happened? Did somebody get hurt? Did someone do something illegal? The possibilities were endless. Was Dario hiding some deep, dark secret?
“Unless?” I repeated.
“Unless a master mistreats his slave,” Dario let out.
“Oh,” a shaky breath escaped my lungs. “It happens then… Fuck.”
“Language!” Dario tugged at my hair, not to hurt me, but as a warning.
“Sorry, sir!”
He smoothed my hair back and sighed, “It does happen, Amore, but not often. The slave was good at keeping himself in line because all he had to work with was fear and pain. Pain pigs are a thing, of course, but there are still rules. In this case, the guy who called himself this boy’s master overstepped. He abused him openly.”
“Is the slave alright?”
“He is now,” Dario replied.
“How do you know?”
“I know, firsthand account,” Dario sent a wink in my direction, and butterflies flapped around in my chest. “That’s why I always ask if you’re fine, so I don’t overstep.”
I grabbed his wrist and kissed it softly. “I know you never would, master.”
My fear of being exposed to people who enjoyed the same practices as Dario and me was unfounded. The tension I felt in my shoulder, the one that kept my back painfully straight, only had to do with the limits I imposed on myself.
I wasn’t straight.
I wasn’t gay.
Not completely.
I might be bi.
But what I ultimately was was Dario’s boy. His charge and servant.
It was on this night, on our drive to Rome, that I decided to let go of the feelings that’d kept me locked in a cage for so long.
I leaned over to the driver’s side and pecked Dario on the cheek, grabbing his crotch in the process.
“I’ll show them who’s got the best boy,” I told him, voice steady and confident. “I’ll show them how well you’ve trained me in such a short time.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Dario said. “Your eagerness to learn was a big help.”
The inside of the underground club was stuffy to say the least. So dropping off my clothes in a locker was actually neat. I pitied Dario more; his dress shirt seemed to stick to his skin, and all I wanted to do was rip it off him and lick off the sweat of his body. That would be quite the show, a good introduction to the others. Or maybe it wouldn’t be, a little voice in my head said.
Some of the people I was about to meet were probably more extreme than my master.
But how extreme?
Music blasted through the walls, and another set of bouncers was expectantly guarding the red doors leading us toward it. Dario walked with confidence, as I trailed naked behind him. My balls swung left and right along with my junk, warm, moist air keeping my nuts low. For all my excitement, no boner came.
“Ciao,” one of the bouncers said, a gleaming smile plastered over his face. “Come stai, Dario?”
A short discussion in Italian ensued, with Dario presenting me as his new slave. What struck me the most was when he said, “Hopefully the right one, I like him a lot.”
I turned beetroot red, knowing full well he had meant for me to hear him.
The small, lopsided smirk he threw back at me was all the confirmation I needed.
I followed him through the red doors, lowering my head as I passed between the bouncers. I was bigger than them, but in that moment, they were my superiors. Unless Dario told me otherwise.
I was hit by a wave of heat that smelled of lube, sweat, and cum… and poppers. The scent of leather hung in the air too, and when I peeked up, it was clear why. Many men and women were dressed in all-black, leather-clad costumes. If you could call them that.
Gears?
Damn, I don’t know!
My cock was quick on the trigger and swelled to its full size in seconds.
As if feeling my arousal, Dario turned to me and gave my dick a couple of strokes, but he didn’t say a thing.
We moved through the crowd, and I let go of everything with each step I took. I became lighter on my feet, accepting my fate as an owned boy. Happy to see many other slaves being used around me.
It felt right.
I locked eyes with a chick whose boobs were bouncing as she got fucked from behind, and then I nodded as I glanced over a master who was drilling his boy’s skull with his enormous dick. I kept my head low, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Then Dario ushered me into a corridor painted a dark shade of green. The air became more breathable.
“This is a private room. All my friends are already there,” Dario explained. “Remember, obey and behave.”
“Yes, master,” I said.
We went in, and four men and two women were sitting around a large table on comfortable-looking booths. My eyes darted around, and I saw that each of them was accompanied by one slave. Luckily, the room was large enough to accommodate everyone.
One of the slaves was covered head to toe in leather, another was restrained on a St Andrew’s Cross, kept quiet with a red gag as he drooled all over himself.
I inhaled and exhaled, summoning the confidence I had promised Dario.
Italian filled the entire space, and I was made to wait by the door, standing at attention with a hard-on that could’ve cut through steel.
“He is a fine one,” a blonde woman said in Italian, approaching me. “Can I touch him?”
Dario looked at me, and I nodded in agreement.
“Go on,” he said.
The woman explored my body, quickly joined by an older guy with graying hair and a full beard. When he cupped my balls, my breath hitched, but I spread my legs wider so he could have better access.
A month ago, I would’ve run away and cast aside the memories as shameful experimentation. Now, I was getting manhandled and loving it. Precum dripped out of my slit, and Dario scooped some of it before feeding it to me.
I gratefully sucked on his finger, and then he kissed me fully. His tongue dragged along my teeth and slithered down my throat. Many hands groped me, pinched me, and stroked me.
Too much, too much, I thought, moaning like a whore.
“Stop it, guys,” Dario told his friends. “Follow me, show them how good you are at sucking cock.”
I blushed, heart pounding in my chest. “Yes, master!”
I got to my knees, and Dario sat in one of the booths. “Do the work.”
I unbuckled his expensive belt, unzipped his pants, and peeled off his briefs with my teeth. Which caused my audience to laugh as I did.
“Well-trained jock,” the older man noticed, petting his boy, who was wearing a buttplug shaped like a tail and a dog mask. “Would you lend him to me?”
“You know I don’t like sharing my boys,” Dario replied, opening his legs to give me room.
I gobbled him up. Hungrily sucking on his fat, uncut dick. The taste was familiar. The shape of it fit my throat perfectly. Keeping my hands behind my back, I served him with precision, using my tongue to tease his frenulum, trying to open my mouth as wide as I could to prevent my teeth from causing him any discomfort.
“Good boy,” he praised me, causing me to suck harder.
I lapped at every drop of precum coming out of his dick, feeling his manhood throb on my tongue as waves of pleasure coursed through his body. It was a simple demonstration of my skills, nothing fancy like the guy on the cross or the doggy boy. But I didn’t gag a single time, which seemed to impress everyone.
“He’s a natural at sucking dick,” Dario said. “Instinctively obedient too. I lucked out with this one.”
“Will you keep him?”
My hole clenched, my cock deflating a little as the answer hung in the air.
“I will,” Dario said, looking down at me.
And I will be yours, I thought.
I brought him to the edge, my aching jaw working its magic until Dario gripped my head and forced me down on his cock. I didn’t move, only opened my throat as wide as I could to swallow his sweet cum.
I swallowed him to the end, not wasting Dario’s precious time while my own cock remained untouched. I already knew I wouldn’t get to cum. I was on display, not here for pleasure. I smiled around my master’s cock, enjoying the moment as he petted my head.
“He got you off quickly!” the other woman said, her feet propped on her slave’s back as if he were a table. “No wonder you want to keep him.”
The rest of the night was spent with me kneeling, being probed and jerked and denied. Dario kept a close watch on me, especially when his friends got a little rough. I didn’t learn much about them, nor did I get to speak to their slaves. But they all reeked of money and power. Not in the subtle way Dario displayed it.
Or maybe I was just biased.
Once we were back in the car, I turned to Dario and asked, “Did I do well?”
“You did amazing, as I expected.”
“So you’re really not the raunchiest of them all, aren’t you?”
He chuckled. “Not at all.”
“I’m glad I belong to you then. You strike the perfect balance, master.”
He stared at me and cradled my head with his large hands before kissing me softly. “I meant what I said back there. I want to keep you.”
“Forever?”
“Yeah, forever.”
My heart somersaulted. “Consider me your property, then. Master.”
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