Know Yourself

The Darkness

For days Owen wondered where things went wrong. How he let events unfold not in his control, the exact opposite instead. He had labored the point when alone in his condo. Nights on the balcony overlooking the busy street below or laid back in the tub or sprawled across the sofa, trying to work out how he found himself going against his nature, the one carefully crafted over the years. The guy who liked to flirt, make the boys want him. The guy who liked to fuck, especially the boys who were still trying to figure it out, not sure what they preferred, and Owen there to show them how to lay back and let him demonstrate his prowess with their legs on his shoulders and cock buried in their ass.

But now Owen couldn’t contemplate those things. He couldn’t focus on the change in roles he found himself, not with his hands bound behind his back, naked, face down on the bed. All he could think about as he felt hips smack against his ass pushing cock deep inside his hole, was that he wasn’t supposed to cum. He’d been warned, told of punishments if he came too soon. He struggled with trying to will his cock down, failing miserably as it ground into the mattress with every shove against his ass. He felt so close, the mattress wet where the head rubbed against it. He tried to focus his mind, but the hand against his ass, the burn of it, made him moan around the ball gag. It smacked his right cheek till it felt aflame. ‘Please come inside me…please hurry’ he thought as he felt his own arousal increase by the second.

 Owen heard him, the hard breathing of a man getting close. But he was close too, with the increase in pace, hips smacking hard against his ass with the sound of it echoing in the room. He wanted to cry out, to beg him to fuck him harder, to give it to him. But he could only moan around the gag. He wanted him to cum, to fill his hole, for if this man he was submitting didn’t come soon, he would.

Owen heard the stifled groans, the familiar break in rhythm, and knew release was close, real close. He thought he could make it, just barely, that he wouldn’t come yet. Then his head jerked back, a hand gripping his hair. He felt the tug of his head, how it pulled him back, arching his back. It made him push down into the mattress hard. The pain of the pull sent shivers down his spine. He tried to bring his mind back into focus, but he was too weak. Not yet trained enough. The guy hammered his hole while he gushed cum into the mattress.

Two Weeks Ago

Owen strolled down the sidewalk, blissfully unaware of the stares of the female sex. He didn’t care about those. He was gay. A man who liked sex with other men, and always on top. At six foot and a body made muscular by a gym routine, he knew other guys looked at him with desire. He saw the looks, the flirtatious stares, and he chose the ones he wanted to pursue. The boys he wanted to conquer, putting another notch in the ole headboard. As a teenager he found his calling, the stud to make others beg for it. There had been Neal across the street, the married guy who had made overtures for years, till the summer after graduation when he gave Neal what he wanted. He remembered how that forty-one-year old married man begged to be fucked. It had started out with the comments about his bulge in his gym shorts, one made worse by his lack of underwear. Then the ‘show me and I’ll show you mine’ lure, that gave him the permission to push those gym shorts down showing that slobbering bastard what he really wanted to see. He had gotten himself hard then out of a moment of extreme confidence, a daring only reinforced over the years, he had commanded Neal to his knees and to crawl to him. He commanded Neal to suck his dick and watched in absolute delight as Neal took him all him all the way.

He had been surprised Neal, wiping the cum that leaked from his lips, asked to be fucked. He could still hear how he begged him to do it, to stick him. It was so crude the words Neal used, nothing sexy or erotic about it. The bastard didn’t know how to talk to another man, only begging for what one could do to him, and Owen did it, shove into him so roughly Neal shuddered from the penetration, then begged him to fuck harder.

In college, there was Eric, his dormmate, who said he was straight, until the night he wasn’t. Owen had fucked Eric till he begged for him to stop, Eric’s own cum spattered over his chest and stomach. Owen had wiped it up with his hand and made Eric eat it, which he did hungrily. But after a few weeks, with so many prospects on campus, Owen broke Eric’s heart, telling him he was bored and needed something different. And he found it, almost too easily.

Over the years since college, he continued to demonstrate his prowess, his desire for something new, something exciting, as he went out with one guy or another for only a few weeks then moved on to the next.

Owen was thirty-two years and showed no signs of wanting to settle down. It wasn’t something he ever considered. He was enjoying life too much, the constant thrill of someone new all the time. He liked having a life without any serious commitments. An ability to have his condo for himself whenever he so desired. And he wouldn’t admit it, but it made his cock flex and stir around in his tight jeans to tell his closest friends of his latest conquest.

Turning the corner, heading to the small grocery store on the next corner, he wondered if that stock boy would be working this evening.  He strolled past the consignment shop, the tattoo parlor and Jack’s Pub, the door swinging open as he passed and the sound of sixties rock ’n’ roll poured out. Only a few doors away, his cell phone rang. Looking at the screen he saw it was Noah.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

“Just walking to the grocery store then back home. Why?”

“Well, do your shopping and take it home. We’re meeting at that Irish pub on Winchester at eight. We’ll save you a seat.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at eight.”

The sliding doors opened as Owen approached and he entered the garishly lit interior, the old fluorescent strips in even lines running across the ceiling of the store. He grabbed a cart and made his way to the right, thinking about Noah, one of his closest friends.

They had met when Owen first moved to the city, and he’d never call it dating, the way they just hooked up for sex for a week. But it became obvious there was going to be a problem when Noah wanted to be on top, something Owen said he’d never do. In the end they went their separate ways, but over the coming months kept crossing each other’s path. It seemed destined they become friends, especially with the way they both liked to flirt, the advantage being they typically didn’t agree on the guys.

In the produce section he bagged up some onions, a few peppers and a few varieties of lettuce. Down the first aisle, he scanned the shelves realizing there was nothing he needed on the aisle. It was a bottle of olive oil, some pasta, a bag of rice and butter that he really came in for. Circling the end cap, he pushed down the next aisle, picking up the rice and a couple boxes of pasta. Circled the next end cap, he picked up a bottle of olive oil. At the back of the store he began to push across heading for the far wall where the dairy section was located. He glanced down the aisles, those with chips and candies, then one with nothing but soda, making his way across. At the aisle for paper products, he glanced down and saw him, the stock boy. He stopped and looked down the aisle daring the boy to look his way. Then he pulled the cart around and eased down the aisle pretending to shop the shelves, even though his eyes were on the stock boy most of time.

A stocky, muscular build, the sleeves of his shirt stretched tight, the stock boy was stooped down as usual. Owen had never gotten the true measure of the boy, having never seen him standing up straight. But he saw the thick black hair that looked like it would curl when wet. He saw the smooth dark skin tone and the sideburns that were long but still not filled out. As he neared, the stock boy stood, twisted his back as if it was stiff, and Owen strolled up close, noting the boy was slighter shorter, probably five nine or so. He couldn’t help but look at the muscular chest that pushed out on the shirt, or the name tag with Avery printed across its face.

Avery looked his way, giving him a smile then turned back to his work. Owen passed him, looking back once for he had to see his ass. It pushed out round in the khaki pants, enticingly so, and he couldn’t help but think how he love to fuck it.

Punishment

Owen cried out as the paddle came down on his ass again, and again, and again. It burned with every smack. Burned like it was on fire. He shuddered, jerked upward, struggling to stay in place. He was naked, laying over the lap. The admonishments ran out in his ears, the chastisement of his disobeying. He had cum when told not to, and now he had to suffer the punishment for it.

Then the paddling stopped, and Owen heaved for breath, grateful it had stopped. Then he felt it. Thick, round, pushing against his opening. He looked back and gasp, unable to stop himself. It was a black butt plug, thicker than his fist, and it was being pushed against his ass. He looked away and tried to relax, knowing there was no other choice. He had to submit to it, let himself be opened up for him.

Owen had been stretched open by those long fingers, had his hole toyed with as one dildo then another was slid inside him, then pumped through his tightness till loosened. Then he had been fucked till he couldn’t hold back. Now he was being stretched even more. He felt it, the tightness of his opening as that thick plug pushed inward, twisted around in his opening, then pushed in some more. He shivered beneath the arm that held him down, while the other continued to push till the plug suddenly slid into place. He felt like he was being split in two.

“Get up.”

The command, and by a voice Owen still found unfamiliar to his ears. It was crazy, but he quickly got to his knees without question. The cuffs on his wrist were unhooked and he brought his arms in front of him relieved for the ability. It was short lived, as he guided to bring them up to his neck and each were secured to the ring in front on the collar. Once again, he was restrained in a way that made his heart race. He couldn’t catch himself if pushed over or reach out to stop him if moved upon too roughly or simple crawl across the cold floor on his hands and knees as he had been doing.

Led across the room Owen was pushed to bend over then lie on the floor and a short chain from the leg of bed was secured to the back of his collar. He looked up, saw the nakedness of him, the way his young smooth body looked so firm, just enough definition to show his masculinity. He looked up with want, aroused again by the images conjured from the last few hours. How he had been used by him. The wanton way he gave himself to him,  with a willingness to do anything. He felt his cock flex with his desires, even now wanting to please him. More so than before, if he was honest with himself.

Owen watched him cross the small room, one meant to be a second bedroom in the apartment but set up for anything other than sleeping, even with its bed. A bed’s headboard had eyehooks secured in the posts and its wood perimeter frame lined with them. Along one wall, a simple narrow table covered in things made of leather and cold steel. At the foot of the bed, instead of a dresser or a television, a cross was braced against the wall. At the table he saw something made of black leather be picked up. Unfolded he saw the shape of it and knew its purpose. Slipped over his head, its blinding purpose was put to use.

Darkness. Total darkness. Owen listened intently trying to discern where the footsteps were going, and with the latching of the door, he knew. Alone. Naked. He lay on the floor, bound, gagged, and blindfolded. His felt his ass cool, the burn seeping away. But the fullness didn’t go away, not with the plug firmly seated inside him. He listened for a long time, waiting for him to return, wondering how long he could be left in such a state.

A Night Out with the Boys

The pub was busy, every stool at the bar occupied and people standing in groups behind them. The back-seating room hummed with the activity. The voices of patrons, the clink of glasses and the constant drone of voices, of wait staff taking orders or delivering drinks, while the patrons held conversations mixed with laughs or exclamations. Owen eased into the pub and looked around the back room knowing the others were already seated. A hand was waving his way and he made his way to the table. Noah was seated against the wall and either side of him sat Oliver and James, friends who had been partners for the last five years. He had no sooner sat down than a waiter caught his eye. Thick wavy brown hair, nice build that filled out the white shirt and black pants nicely. And a sparkle of shiny metal dangling from one ear.

“Didn’t take you long to spot that” said Noah, making the four of them laugh.

“He is nice” James replied, looking over at Oliver, who nodded back.

“Definitely one that is fuckable” Owen uttered as he watched the waiter head back to the bar. “I guess we couldn’t be lucky enough to have that nice piece of ass as our waiter.”

The other three laughed, and James tapped Owen on the shoulder. “So, what do you think about six days in Argentina next summer?”

“Argentina? Next summer? Yeah, that would be great. You guys planning an excursion?”

“Yep, and we’re considering inviting you two single bastards to tag along this time. We’re thinking Buenos Aires would be nice.”

“Hell yeah, count me in. I’ve made it Rio and Brasilia, and there was a week in Peru when I was in college, but never been to Buenos Aires.”

“Me, either, count me in” added Noah.

Owen realized a shadow hung over him and he looked up at the waiter he had been eyeing just moments before.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“You sure can; Jameson” replied Owen, smiling broadly at the waiter. “What’s your name?”

“Peyton.”

“Well, Peyton, it is nice to meet you.”

Peyton smiled at Owen, one that knew Owen was flirting with him and he didn’t care. “I’ll be back shortly with your drink. The rest of you still good?”

“Yep” replied Noah as the others nodded yes.

The four of them deliberately ordered drinks individually making Peyton come to their table often, each time Owen getting more and more flirtatious. By night’s end, Owen was sure Peyton was playable. He asked for their checks and while Peyton totaled up everyone’s bill, the four of them began to debate on whether, or not he was right.

“Here’s your checks” said Peyton as he handed out the black folders to each of them. Owen took his, giving Peyton a wink.

Peyton went to wait on others as they put in their tips, totaled it up and wrote their signatures along the bottom. Each one stacked up on the corner of the table, Noah excused himself, saying he had to get up the next morning. James went to the bathroom, leaving Owen and James.

“You really think he’ll come to your place later?”

“I’d bet on it” Owen replied, smiling at Peyton as he approached.

“Thanks guys” said Peyton as he picked up the black folders.

“Hey, Peyton” said Owen.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you swing by my place tonight on the way home. I’ll give you a night cap…or something.”

“I don’t know” replied Peyton.

“Come on, I live just four blocks from here. My address and phone number are with my check. What time do you get off?”

“Around midnight.”

“I’ll see you shortly after.”

“I don’t know…maybe” Peyton replied, backing away a couple of steps, smiling broadly, then turning as he headed back to the bar.

“Damn, I think you’re right” said James as he stood up to leave, Oliver crossing the dining room from the bathroom. “We’re out of here. Talk to you later.”

“Good night and be careful getting home.”

Owen was showered and wearing nothing but a cotton robe. It hung just long enough to conceal his cock and he had it so loosely tied it hung open to his stomach. He wanted it to look ready to fall open, and it was. At fifteen after midnight, the doorbell rang. He strolled to the door and opened it to Peyton. Shirt with a couple of buttons undone and sleeves rolled up, he looked casual, ready to call it night.

“Come on in” said Owen stepping aside to let Peyton enter.

Peyton walked to the edge of the living room and turned to Owen. He reached out, slipping his hand through the folds of the robe below the sash and Owen quickly felt fingers fondling him. He liked the quickness of Peyton’s advance, for they both knew why he was here. Not to socialize, or watch a movie, or pretend this was some kind of a date. There was only one reason Peyton showed up after midnight, and his manipulation of Owen showed he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

“Yeah…I like a guy who gets down to business” said Owen as he pulled the sash loose and let his robe fall open. A hand on Peyton’s shoulder, he pushed down. “Show me how good you are.”

Peyton eased down on his knees and soon had Owen in his mouth. There was no toying with it, no kisses to the head or tongue licks. Peyton put his lips around the head and took every inch. Owen put each hand on Peyton’s shoulders and with eyes closed leaned his head back savoring the feel of those lips. He slipped the robe from his shoulders and with arms held back, let it drop to the floor. Peyton sucked his cock, working it for his release. When he opened his eyes, he saw his reflection in the sliding doors to the balcony. Naked, his body seemed to be glowing in the dim light of the room and before him, head moving back and forth, Peyton on his knees. He watched as Peyton undid his own pants, fished his cock out and began to masturbate while sucking.

“Yeah, that’s it, get it wet” Owen uttered, hinting at what was to come.

Owen watched his cock disappear, then reappear wet, glistening in the light. Over and over, each time adding to his arousal.

“That’s enough…get up” Owen commanded and when Peyton stood in front of him, he added, “strip.”

Pushed over the back of the sofa, naked ass turned up, Peyton took Owen, took every inch as it sank into his hole then piston inward and out. Owen’s hips soon were smacking noisily against Peyton’s ass, making him grunt with every shove inward. Owen wondered if Peyton realized the apartments across the street could easily see in. Anyone looking could see him take Owen’s fuck, like so many before him. For Owen, it added to the bawdy nature of this hook up. Peyton coming over, bent over the back of the sofa, and Owen was giving it to him. Roughly, hips smacking against ass. He reached down and grabbed Peyton by the hair, tugged upward forcing Peyton’s head up and around.

“Take me…take it” Owen uttered, then unable to hold back, he shoved inward and kept jamming his hips against Peyton’s ass as he splattered its insides with cum.

Peyton finally dressed, dried cum on one cheek (Owen had to stifle a smile and refused to let him know) headed to the door knowing he was to leave. Owen held the door open, robe back on as before. Peyton started out, then stopped.

“Owen, would you like to…”

“Peyton, I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I get it” Peyton replied then he moved out into the corridor.

“Nothing personal. I just don’t want to be tied down.”

Safe Word

Darkness. Nothing but darkness. Owen lay on the floor, secured to the foot of the bed by a short chain from his collar. His wrists were still hooked to the collar. He felt his nakedness like never before. Exposed with nothing hid from sight. Gagged and blindfolded, he was reduced to only perceiving sound and touch. So, he lay listening intently, waiting for him to return.

The butt plug had Owen feeling stuffed, his hole stretched around its girth and he still shivered at times remembering its initial penetration. The way it had been pushed against his tightness, twisting around while the pressure was increased and decreased till he had opened up for it. He had only been fucked a few times when he first came out, but not since. He had considered himself the ultimate top, someone who did the fucking, not the other way around. There was a conceit he had held onto, one that said he was the real man in any hook up. One he had found lacking in every way over the last few days, and never more than now.

Owen heard talking from the other room, two voices in a soft chatter of conversation. For a long time, he tried to discern what was being said, but no matter how hard he tried to make out words, they were too far away and a closed door between them. Then the voices grew louder, drawing closer. Just outside the door he heard them clearly.

“…you still have him in there?”

“Yes.”

“Tied up?”

“Something like that.”

“Can I see him?”

“Sure.”

The door swung open and Owen raised his head as much as he could, waiting on the voices to continue. He sensed their approach, and knew they had to be standing close.

“Damn, that is wicked. And his ass looks really red.”

“He disobeyed me.”

“Is that a butt plug?”

Owen heard the strange voice ask as the plug was nudged, no doubt with a foot.

“Yes.”

“It looks huge.”

“You want to see it?”

“Yes; take it out.”

And hand touched Owen’s hip as the now familiar voice told him to roll over. He struggled to roll over but eventually found himself on his elbows and knees, held down at the neck unable to raise up on his hands. Fingers slipped in around the base of the plug and slowly tugged on it, twisting as they did. He shuddered as the thickest part was pulled through his opening. Breathing hard, his skin feeling hot, he locked his mouth around the gag so as not to attempt crying out. The plug passed through his opening and he felt the top end slip quickly from him. He felt air, cool air, over his hole.

“Damn, how long will it take for him to close up?”

“Watch how it slowly closes.”

Owen felt hands hold his cheeks apart as the two of them watched.

“Damn, it must be nice to have that ass available whenever you want it. When are you going to let him go?”

“I’m still breaking him in.”

“Breaking him in? He looks broke in, to me.”

“You want to fuck him?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. You can fuck him; it’ll keep him loosened up.”

“Shit…yeah I’d like to fuck him. You got some lube?”

“You don’t need it.”

Owen heard shuffling around, as the two of them continued to talk about him, making comments about how nice his ass looked, all red and spread open. Then a hand gripped him by the hair, pulled his head up and removed the gag.

“You heard?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Yes, what?” A tug on his head that hurt.

“Yes, sir.”

“If you don’t want this, say the safe word.”

Owen hesitated to reply, then asked, “And?”

“And I’ll release you. You go home and we each move on.”

That was the choice before him. Say the safe word and get released, but with the stipulation not to try to return. Or refuse and take another fucking by someone else.

“No, sir.”

“Good boy.”

The gag was stuck back into his mouth and Owen sensed him standing up then stepping away. He felt a humiliation at his willingness to be used, and to be called ‘boy’ was odd. He had used the term all the time but to have it applied to himself was strange to hear. But he knew the truth of it, with this submission based on a desire to please him.

The other person got behind Owen, pushed his legs together then rubbed a cock up and down his ass. He let a moan escape around the gag as that cock rubbed his opening and pushed against it. Then it sank into his depths in one long push.

Hands held Owen’s waist as cock piston in his hole. The pace was fast, rough, with no concern on making it last. The guy was showing off to his friend, demonstrating how hard and rough he could fuck. He felt the hands tighten their grip as hips smacked against his ass. He rocked forward till his head was bent up against the bed post, and the fucking continued. A hand slipped around his waist and fondled his cock, making him get hard. It was the first time he had been touched since arriving last night and he wanted to beg this stranger to do it, to stroke him till he got off. He wanted to feel his own release while being fucked.

“Don’t let him cum” came the familiar voice.

The hand pulled away and held firmly to his waist.

“Fuck…I’m going to cum.”

“Pump it on his back. He only gets mine.”

The cock jerked free and within a second Owen felt the splatter of cum over his back and ass, then a slow wipe of wet cock across the left cheek.

“Get dressed and come on back into the living room. I’ll make us something to drink.”

Owen heard shuffling around then the door swung close, the latch setting in place. He was alone again. He felt the cooling liquid trickle over his sides and ass as he held in place for a minute. Then slowly he shifted to his side and relaxed as best he could.

For a long time, Owen listened to the muffled voices coming from the living room, wondering how long this visitor would stay, wishing he’d leave. He wanted this time with him, just the two of them. He was jealous of every minute lost to this visitor.

Just Another Day

Owen strolled down to the drug store to get a few supplies. He was out of Band-Aids and low on toothpaste. The drug store was a short walk, on the corner of 12th and Hillside Avenue and he slipped through the automatic doors into the brightly lit interior. He scanned the store, noting the other men shopping, sizing each one up. He noticed the register was being operated by a young woman, a lost opportunity in his mind. He ambled down the aisles picking up the Band-Aids, a tube of toothpaste, and without thinking, a couple of toothbrushes. He circled around a couple of other aisles to make sure there was nothing else he needed or wanted.

Back at the front of the store he saw a second register was open and he stepped into its line for what was operating it. Tall, lean to the point of being skinny, but an attractiveness that was model perfect. Blue eyes balanced nicely on a heart shaped face with a cute button nose and thin elegant lips. Even the eyebrows were perfectly arched over each eye, and the guy’s hair was the light brown that had to have been blonde as a child. It was an expensive cut, hanging seductively over the forehead almost concealing one eye.

The woman in front of him took her bag and Owen moved up, setting his few items on the counter. The first thing he did was look at the name tag for he wanted to speak to the boy on a personal level. He saw the small block letters on the tag spelling out the boy’s name.

“Hey Jordan, how’s it going?”

“Okay. Is this all?”

“Yeah…well, there is one more thing I would like to have.”

Jordan looked up, his face blank, waiting.

“Your number?”

Jordan scoffed, hit total and gave Owen a blank look.

“That’ll be $18.79. Does that card have a chip?”

“Chip? Oh yeah, and I know. Just insert it in the reader. So, your number?”

Owen watched Jordan bag his items and pull the long receipt from the printer then handed both over to him.

“Have a nice day; next” said Jordan in a flat voice and Owen knew he had been dismissed.

Back on the sidewalk, Owen found himself laughing at how Jordan had dismissed him. He assumed the boy was straight, but in this neighborhood had probably been hit on a lot and learned to dismiss his pursuers. He ambled toward a row of small shops, making this way through one then another. He scanned the men’s clothing, a jewelry shop with watches that tempted him to buy another one, although he already had too many. And in each place and along the sidewalk he looked at the other men. Checked out round asses he wanted to fuck, cute boys that made him flirtatious toward them, seeing which would respond. By the time he got back to his place, he had three telephone numbers and wondered which he would call first.

That evening he was with Noah at a small Vietnamese place on Garden Street, sitting on the small patio that was tucked between the restaurant and the adjacent building, it’s brick wall a backdrop for the lush plantings that surrounded them.

“Did that waiter come to your place last night?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You let him stay till this morning?”

“Hell no. I fucked his ass and sent him home.”

“Owen! Don’t you want something more? You can’t just have one-night stands for the rest of your life.”

“Who says. I’m perfectly happy with the arrangement. I don’t have anyone telling me what I can and can’t do and no one is messing with my stuff.”

“You selfish bastard” Noah replied, laughing in jest.

“I know; it’s my most redeeming trait.”

“Fuck you” said Noah making the two of them laugh.

“You want to go to the bar or club later?”

“No, I have someone coming over later.”

“Really? Anyone I know?”

“A guy I met this morning: Raymundo. He’s family is from Brazil and he is a dark sweet looking boy. Damn he had the nicest ass and this jet-black hair. Can’t wait to get him naked.”

“Brazilian? That is different. Most of the guys from the southern Americas I meet are from Mexico or one of the other Central American countries.”

“Same here, so Raymundo surprised me when he said he was from Brazil. But I knew there was something different about him by the way he spoke, and he is so much darker than guys from Central America.”

The waiter brought their check and after paying they ambled out to the sidewalk. Owen was parked on the street and Noah was across it in a parking lot.

“Well, if you change your mind, give me a call and I’ll let you know where we end up” said Noah.

“Not a chance. If Raymundo shows up, I’m not letting him leave until I can’t fuck another stroke” replied Owen, making the two of them laugh.

It was eleven when the doorbell rang and Owen went to it wearing just his robe, once again so loosely tied it was about to fall open. Swinging the door open he had to stifle a gasp, for Raymundo stood in the corridor wearing a white tank top that had thin straps and openings cut low, revealing the left nipple and much of his upper body. Raymundo also had on jeans, ripped and frayed in all the right ways, one worn place right at the crotch that bulged seductively.

“Come on in” said Owen stepping to the side.

He saw how Raymundo was nearly his own height, five eleven or so, and his body was more muscular than he had originally believed. As he closed the door, he watched Raymundo come into his condo, pulling the tank top over his head, dropping it casually on the floor.

“I assume at this hour, I’m not here to make small talk” said Raymundo as he undid his jeans and spread them open revealing a thick cock that hung free as the jeans were worked down Raymundo’s long legs.

“Fuck” Owen uttered as he crossed the room, letting the robe slip off his shoulders and down his arms onto the floor.

Owen pushed Raymundo on the sofa and took his thick cock. He slipped it in his mouth and worked down as far as he could. It filled his mouth and stretched his jaw. A hand moved over his head and guided him to take more of it. As he sucked down, he slipped a hand up between Raymundo’s thighs. He fondled the balls that hung loosely in their sac. He tickled the space below them then ran his fingers further down. Raymundo spread his legs giving him access and he thought ‘good boy’ as he rubbed the tight opening he was going to be fucking soon. He slipped one finger inside him, then another and another, working them through the tightness till he felt it loosen around them.

Owen got between Raymundo’s legs, taking ahold of each, dragging him down flat on his back. The legs against his chest, he moved over him, folding him in half. He pushed his cock against Raymundo’s opening while looking at the contrast between their bodies. He looked so white against the dark skin of Raymundo, such a stark contrast in skin tone, and he pushed with his hips sinking his white cock into that beautiful dark ass. Even after his ministrations, Raymundo was tight, and he felt every inch as it squeezed through to sink into the hot soft hole that soon enveloped his cock.

“Fuck…fuck me” Raymundo exclaimed as Owen pulled outward and pushed back in.

Owen moved further over Raymundo and began to work his hips faster and faster. The sofa rocked with his exertions as he fucked Raymundo; fucked him hard. Soon the sound of body against body contact echoed in the room. The rhythm of it aligned with the protest from the sofa.

Raymundo ran hands over Owen’s body, raking nipples then pinching them, caressing chest and stomach, then grabbing each ass cheek, pulling them with every inward push into his depths. Owen took each leg behind the knee and pushed them down next to Raymundo’s head as he pulled out as far as he could then slammed back in. Now he was fucking to come. His arousal driving him toward release. Hands took his face and guided him down till they were kissing while he hammered at Raymundo’s hole.

Owen pressed his lips against Raymundo’s, desperate for the contact as he jammed his cock all the way inside of him, hips smacking against ass. He came, spurting wad after wad. He kept working his cock inside of Raymundo, feeling it slide through his load till too sensitive to continue. He pulled out and eased down in a sitting position on the other end of the sofa as Raymundo sat up next to him stroking his thick cock.

“I want to fuck you now” said Raymundo.

“No, I don’t get fucked.”

“You have to let me; I want to come too.”

“I’ll suck you off.”

“Okay” Raymundo replied disappointed Owen wouldn’t agree to take his fuck.

Owen moved to the floor and between Raymundo’s legs. He took the leaking cock, licked the wet head getting the taste of him, then he put his lips around the head and sank as much as he could into his mouth. Raymundo cried out and tried to push upward as Owen sucked his cock. He kept his eyes open so he could see the dark muscular body before him. The way the stomach heaved up and down as he worked his mouth up and down. He ran a hand over up the stomach and chest feeling the smooth skin. When he pinched the right nipple, Raymundo shoved upward nearly gagging him, shuddering with the pain and pleasure of it. He slipped his hand under Raymundo and fingered his ass, feeling his fingers slide slicky into him. He piston them inside Raymundo as he sucked. Up and down, faster and faster till he felt the head flare out wider. He focused his efforts on it while stroking the shaft and sinking three fingers all the way inside him. Raymundo bucked up, his cock flexed then flexed again, as it filled Owen’s mouth.

Once spent, Owen led him to his bed, determined to fuck him again. He playfully pushed Raymundo on the bed and climbed on top of him. With legs wrapped around his waist, he buried his cock inside of him and began to slow fuck. He wanted it to last this time. He fucked till he got close, then pulled out and flipped Raymundo into a different position. Raymundo on his stomach, or on his side, twisted at the hips, then on top, riding Owen’s cock as he stroked his own.

Raymundo came first, spewing cum all over Owen, from his face down to this stomach. The thick white wads rained down on him as their scent filled the room. Raymundo’s ass spasm around his cock with each ejaculation and he couldn’t take it, shoving upward with his own release.

When both were spent, Owen helped Raymundo from the bed and into his bathroom. Under the warm spray of the shower, Owen bathed him, running soapy hands over every inch of his body. He kissed him, then guided him to turn around. He shampooed Raymundo’s black hair just to let his fingers comb through it. He ran soapy hands over the broad back and down to the narrow waist and over the round ass. He soaped up Raymundo’s ass, running a hand between the cheeks. It aroused him, this sense of touch, and he stroked his cock with his other hand till hard.

Then Owen pushed Raymundo against the tile wall easing his cock back inside him.

The morning was bright and sunny, and Owen slipped out of his bed, leaving Raymundo twisted up in the cover. He made coffee and the aroma of it filled the condo. From the bedroom came the sound of Raymundo stirring awake, then climbing out of bed. As he poured two cups, Raymundo walked up to the bar and took a seat.

“Black or with cream and sugar?”

“Black, please.”

They made small talk while enjoying their coffee but once finished it was obvious Owen was ready for Raymundo to leave. Holding the door open, Raymundo stepped into the doorway, then stopped.

“Owen, I had fun. Maybe we can…”

“Yeah, maybe we can do it again” Owen interjected, and it was obvious he was ready for Raymundo to leave.

Raymundo laughed, then put a hand on Owen’s arm, “just as well. I prefer someone who is more flexible in their sex.” Removing the hand, Raymundo walked down the corridor toward the elevator as Owen closed the door.

The Long Dark Silence

Owen lay on the floor listening intently for any sound. The apartment was quiet. Only the sound of the air conditioning kicking on and off preventing it from being absolute.  He lay blindfolded, not sure if it was still daytime or had rolled into Saturday night. Acutely aware of his nakedness with the cool conditioned air caressing his bare skin. He shivered from it, wishing to be dressed. But he felt his cock stir as he also considered they way he was secured in place. It aroused him to consider his submission. To be exposed to him, ready for whatever was granted. And this feeling confused him, for one so accustomed of thinking of himself as strictly a top. The man who fucked the boys and sent them home when his desires were sated. Now he was bound and gagged, waiting on him to decide when it was time for something to happen. The thought of being used took over his thoughts, the way he had been fucked and made to suck and then the ass play that made his cock stir with his arousal, no matter how much pain he had endured. Even the feel of dried cum on his back and ass fueled his arousal.

A door opened then closed and footsteps could be heard moving about in the apartment. ‘Come to me’ Owen implores, trying to will him to come to where he lay. He was willing to do whatever was required for any interaction with him.

The bedroom door swung open and Owen sensed the presence of him standing close. Then a hand ran along his side, from hip to shoulder where it took the chain and unlocked it.

“Sit up” came the command as Owen was helped to sit up. Hands came to his bound wrist and soon his arms were able to fall free from his collar. He stretched them out then rubbed the arm above the cuffs as the gag was removed. “You can remove the blindfold” and he slides it upward, blinking his eyes to the light of the room, even though it is dim, just a soft warm glow like that of a campfire burned down low. He looked up, eyes scanning along the naked body. Cock stuck out straight, the head about to release a drop from the slit. “Suck” came another command and he rose onto knees, licked the sweetness from the slit then put his lips around the head and pushed forward taking every inch till nearly gagging. The head pushed at the back of his throat as it did last night, but he didn’t gag this time, controlling his breathing. He moved on that rock-hard cock, the shaft ramrod straight and the head flared out wide. He liked the feel of it sliding over his tongue as he worked his mouth on it, wondering if he was going to be rewarded for his efforts.

Then he was pushed off, falling back on his heels.

“Get on the bed.”

Scrambling to his feet, Owen climbed onto the bed wondering what position he was to assume. A hand grabbed him by the hair at the back of the head and pushed him over till his face was pressed into the mattress. He could smell it, his dried cum where he had disobeyed and came. He was pushed down harder, made to draw in the smell with every inhale. Then he felt the thrust into his depths as hard cock stretched him open and sank inward. He cried out into the mattress, shuddering with the penetration. Then there was the weight of him on his back, and the undulation as hips worked cock in his depths. He moaned and grunted when hips pressed against his ass and his hole felt stuffed full. He didn’t think he could take much more. Then a hand slipped around his waist and tugged roughly on his cock and balls, pulling so tightly he shuddered. The hand stroked as fast as cock piston in his hole.

Then he was empty, and the weight of him was gone. Looking over he saw him sit up against the headboard, stroking his wet cock.

“Sit on it.”

Owen shifted over, facing him as he began to move down on the hard cock held up.

“No; turn around.”

Owen turned and eased his ass down, feeling the cock nudge his opening, push through it then sink inside him as he moved down till seated on it. He knew what was expected and he leaned back resting on his hands, and began to move his ass, up, then down, over and over and over. He moved slowly at first feeling every inch move through his tight opening, but couldn’t keep it up, unable to maintain the restraint to hold back, and he began to move faster, rougher, slamming his ass down. He looked down his sweating body, how his own cock flopped hard against his stomach and the muscles of his stomach and legs flexed with his exertions. He refocused across the room and saw it, the video recorder, its light on as it recorded his submission. He wanted to protest, to ask the recorder to be turned off. He didn’t want anything that could remind him of this moment. But he moved faster, cried out and grunted whorishly as he also wanted to show how much he really wanted this fuck, to feel cock inside his hole, pushing into depths that seemed impossible.

He rode that cock till it filled his hole, and he kept riding it, keeping it hard, working his ass on it using the first load as lube, till he felt it flex with release for the second time. Then he collapsed on the bed by him, exhausted, breathing hard. His skin felt feverish, covered in sweat. His arms were pulled to the headboard one at a time and secured to an eyehook. Each ankle was tugged toward the corners at the foot of the bed and soon secured with rope. He lay on his back, spread eagle, cock still hard, his own needs unfulfilled, as he watched him leave the room, shutting off the light putting the room into complete darkness.

The Male Form

It was another Thursday in the big city. A day of meetings, and filling out forms, then at four thirty, the shutting down for the day. Owen strolled out of his office, one that faced downtown, and walked along the passage between offices and cubicles, seeing many still hard at it. He made his way to the parking deck to retrieve his BMW, circling down from his spot on the fourth level till on the street. He had a routine, one rarely broken. Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday were gym days, time for him to do a physical workout. Other days he played it by ear. He could go for a run to the park and back or ride his bike around the neighborhoods behind his condo, or just meet friends for dinner.

Leaving at four thirty afforded Owen the opportunity to beat the rush to the gym, find a parking space up close and get inside. He changed into flimsy nylon shorts knowing how he bulged the crotch. He slipped on a tank top, something he’d probably cast aside soon enough. He used the treadmills to warm up, increasing his speed slowly, till jogging at a good pace. Sweat trickled down his face which he wiped with his towel as he moved to the weight room. He followed a circuit, one that worked each muscle group. He pushed weight till his muscles grew fatigued, felt the way each one was worked. And he felt the way it made his body pump up, every muscle tightened and visible.

Owen was on the horizontal leg press, pushing forward then easing back. His legs worked the weight with ease, and he found himself looking around the room, seeing who else was working out. He saw familiar faces; some he had already had his way with and others that he knew he never would. Straight guys, or guys in serious relationships not open to playing around, then there were a few new faces, possibilities as he considered them.

A stocky, muscular blonde lifted free weights. In the corner a red head whose arms flexed with his pulling down on the bar. And approaching from his right, a guy who was obviously Latino, with that smooth skin tone and dark hair, and yes, even the dark brown eyes. He was muscular, about five-eight, with a tank top that hung loose over his broad shoulders. Owen wondered about the guy’s cock; uncut he was sure.

As the Latino guy passed, he set the weight down and leaned forward. “Hey, how’s it going?”

A smile revealing a row of perfect white teeth, and the guy moved close. “Good. How about you? About finished with your work out?”

“Almost; and you?”

“Just going to cool down on a treadmill.”

“Heading that way, myself.”

They jogged slowly, side by side, making small talk, where Owen learned more about the guy. Horacio had lived in the city all his life. His family immigrated from Honduras before he was born. He was the youngest of three, with an older brother and sister.  And he was gay.

In the locker room they flirted with each other, playing grab ass when no one was looking, making them laugh and giggle like teenagers. In the shower room they stood opposite each other, knowing it unwise to take adjoining showers. They showered slowly, putting on a show for the other till both were dangerously close to getting an erection.

Horacio followed Owen to a small café that was on his way home. They sat by the window, continuing with their small talk, circling around what both was really thinking. Owen paid the check since it was the least he could do for Horacio, for he expected to get what he wanted later.

“My place is just across the street. Why don’t we go there?” Horacio asked as they walked out to the sidewalk.

“Seriously; you live right there” Owen replied pointing at the apartment tower in front of them.

“Yep.”

Owen parked in the visitor section of the parking deck and rode the elevator up to the tenth floor. He walked down the corridor till he came to 1019, finding the door ajar. He pushed it open and strolled into the apartment seeing the view of the city. Horacio wasn’t in the room and Owen assumed he must be in the bathroom. At the window, he stood staring out, waiting on Horacio to return as he watched the traffic below, some of it turning into the little café.

Owen didn’t hear the bedroom door ease open, or the soft fall of footsteps on the carpet. He didn’t sense Horacio behind him till hands took him by the waist. He held still as he felt Horacio’s naked body press against his back. He felt cock against his ass and a soft exhale on his neck just before lips touched it.

Owen let Horacio toy with him, hands coming around his waist, slipping beneath his gym shorts. His cock stirred as one hand slipped down within his boxers and manipulated him. The other hand pushed his gym shorts and boxers down till they fell to his ankles while stroking him to full erection.

“Will you fuck me?” asked Horacio.

“OH yeah” Owen replied as he turned to Horacio, pulled his t-shirt off, tossing it on the floor. “Let’s go to the bedroom and play.”

Owen pushed Horacio down on the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his chest. He rubbed his growing erection across Horacio’s face, over the lips and cheeks till he felt tongue lick at the head. Pushing forward he felt the warm wetness of Horacio’s mouth as it enveloped him. Pumping hips gently, his cock pulled and pushed through tight lips making him grow fully erect. Horacio pushed him back, heaving for breath.

“Fuck me” Horacio exclaimed.

A leg on each shoulder, Owen felt the weight of the firm muscular calves on them. He moved over Horacio who was urging him on, begging for his fuck. He put his wet cock to Horacio’s upturned ass and drilled into its depths. He didn’t hold back, immediately working up a fast pace, slamming down hard against that firm ass. The bed rocked and squeaked, then banged against the wall. It urged him to keep fucking, wanting the neighbors to hear Horacio take it, every stroke. Hands touched his thighs, fingers digging into the firm flesh. He leaned over Horacio further, folding him in half, and pulled upward till nearly slipping free, then shoved inward all the way, over and over and over.

Owen hadn’t noticed Horacio jacking his own cock until he felt cum spray across his chest and stomach. He looked down as it dripped down on Horacio and more cum was puddling on him. The smell filled his nostrils pushing his own release. He fucked harder, thrusting with all his strength till the surge of release shook him. He jammed his cock deep within Horacio filling him with his load.

Horacio napped on the bed, still wet with cum, as he used the boxers Horacio had pulled off earlier to wipe cum from his dripping cock. He went out to the living and boldly standing at the open window put on his clothes. For a moment he considered leaving a note, saying something about having a good time, but he didn’t want to waste time hunting paper and pen. Instead he eased out, closing the door behind him and headed for the parking deck.

An Unholy Cross

Owen woke to find his hands and legs free, while being shook awake. He blinked his eyes open, for a brief second forgetting where he was. He looked up at him and had to stifle the urge to try to smile around the gag.

“Get up.”

Owen obeyed, sitting up, swinging his legs over the side, then stood. He was standing close to him, so close he could see the cold stare. He watched him move to the foot of the bed and stand at the cross and knew what was expected. He stepped up to it, faced the wall, and raised one arm then the other allowing their locking to the cross. Each leg was done next and he stood with legs spread, arms stretched out. Looking down he saw his cock flex with arousal. He was growing erect and hadn’t even been touched.

Owen sensed him at his back, then felt a hand tugged down on his balls. Looking down he saw a leather strap put around them, then he saw the chain, and the weight meant to hang from it. Almost saying ‘no’ he closed his eyes instead of watching the weight be let go and tug heavily at his sac. It swung back and forth increasing the sensation of its tug. He shivered with the pain of it. His cock flexed and grew harder.

Then Owen felt the warmth of a naked body against his back. Hard cock pressed against his ass, as hands rubbed up and down each arm. Then one hand ran its fingers through his hair and the other reached around and took his cock. As one hand grabbed a handful of hair and pulled his head back the other began to stroke his cock, hard, furiously, making the weight swing back and forth.

“I see a hesitancy in you. A willfulness not to comply with my commands.”

Owen still couldn’t believe how he had so misjudged him. He never would have guessed him capable of this dominance. The control over him and it surprised him even more at his willingness to submit to it. Wanting it. He felt the pendulum weight swinging from his sac. He felt the way his head was pulled back, waiting for his answer. The hesitancy he was warned about; he was doing it now.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry doesn’t cut it. You’re not to question me, nor are you to hesitate when I tell you to do something. Is that clear?”

“Yes…sir.”

A tug at Owen’s hair.

“Yes, sir” Owen repeated, with no hesitation and full conviction.

“That’s better”, hoarsely whispered in Owen’s ear, and the hands let him go.

The room was quiet for a minute. Only a faint sound of movement somewhere behind Owen. Then he heard the soft sound of something moving through air and the brush of leather straps against his back. They repeatedly struck his shoulders down to his ass, then across his ass. His skin grew sensitive to every touch. He felt a slow tingling sensation then a warmth. It stopped and he wondered if he was going to be spared the worst, only to hear the whoosh through the air behind him and at the same instant the crack against his skin. It burned and he jerked in his bounds. Again, and this time it struck across his ass, then across one thigh and finally the other. He shuddered, pulled at his bounds, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.

There was a hand on Owen’s back, and it rubbed downward taking the heat from his skin. When it pulled away it was only a second before leather straps hit his back, wrapping around his side, the skin stinging worse where the tips popped against the skin. He exhaled hard and sucked in his next breath as the leather came across his ass. He grunted while his whole body shuddered from the pain.

The strikes moved up and down Owen’s back, over his ass and more painfully across the back of his thighs. He didn’t think he could take another strike. On the verge of crying out, the strikes stopped.

Owen was still shaking when hands held his waist and cock pushed between his cheeks till pressed against his opening. He submitted to it, pushed his ass back and let that cock stretch him open again. It pushed firmly into him, all the way, then began to fuck. He rocked with the hard pace of it, the way hips smacked against his ass and the weight swung in a wider and wider arc. He couldn’t decipher the difference between the pain and the pleasure. It blended into something that drove his aroused state. He felt his own erection bobbing up and down as he took every thrust inward. A hand took his erection and stroked him with the same rough, fast rhythm. He was too aroused to last long, couldn’t handle the way it pushed him to the point of release.

“Please, SIR, I’m going to cum” Owen cried out, afraid to cum unless given permission.

“Do it. Come for me. Let it go.”

Owen shuddered with his release, and cum sprayed the wall, then floor. His cock flexed in the tight grip that continued to stroke it till he shivered, wanting to beg him to stop. Then he felt it. The shaking of a body in the throes of release pressed against his back.

The weight was removed but Owen was left secured to the cross. He turned to watch him leave. The now familiar body, naked, strolling out the door without a look back. The door closed and Owen was alone once again. 

The First Weekend of Owen Finding Himself

The bar was crowded, typical for a Friday after work. Owen meandered through the crowd working his way around the bar to where Oliver and Noah sat waiting. He squeezed between three women, ignoring their smiles toward him for he was too busy looking at the bartender, a cute young guy with short black hair, a goatee and a smile that made his cock stir. Cutting around the back side of the bar he wondered if there was a chance with the bartender.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Noah asked as he stepped between them.

“My manager stopped me on the way out to talk about a big meeting on Monday. Where’s James?”

“He flew out this afternoon to go visit his mom. She’s had surgery and needs some help around the house, so he’s going to take his turn at staying with her” replied Oliver.

“The bartender is cute, isn’t he?” asked Noah, getting Owen’s attention.

“Yes, he is. Bartender! Jack and ginger.”

“Oliver, what are you going to do this weekend? You want to go out tomorrow night?” asked Noah.

“No. I’m going to crash with the book I’m reading and just rest. This past week has been a fucked-up mess, what with us having to relocate our department to another floor and James’ mother’s operation with the phone calls late into the night.”

“What are you doing?” Noah asked Owen. He knew Owen was a lone wolf, rarely wanting to go out with them on Saturdays. It cramped his style, Owen would say.

“I’m thinking of going to that club in Belmont. They say the crowd is quite nice” Owen replied, smiling in a mischievous way Oliver and Noah knew all too well.  “What are wanting to do? You’ve been off the radar for a while and…”

“Boy, has he” interrupted Oliver, “go on, tell him Noah.”

“I had been seeing this older man and…”

“And?” asked Owen.

“It was a little too intense for me.”

“Intense? How?”

“Go on, tell him” said Oliver.

Owen smiled at Noah, knowing it was something he was embarrassed to admit.

“Well, it was a…master and slave thing” replied Noah, looking at Oliver to see how pleased he would be at his admission.

“Oh. I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing” replied Owen, suddenly serious.

“I don’t know. I thought I’d try it. There are some aspects I do like, but the total submission he wanted…it was more than I was willing to do. There were no hard feelings. He told me it wasn’t for everyone and said we should stay in touch as friends. I don’t know…sometimes I pictured me doing him.” Noah laughed at the thought of being the master, but then he quietened, giving it serious consideration. He glanced at the bartender imagining him naked, tied up and…

“You going to invite him out sometime?”

“Yeah, I will. Roger is really a nice guy.”

“Call him now” said Oliver.

“Yeah, why not. Give him a call” added Owen.

Noah reached into his jacket and pulled out a black cell phone that wasn’t the phone he normally used. As he dialed, Owen leaned over giving it a closer look.

“You have another phone?”

“Yep. Roger got it for me when we first met. I didn’t want his messages on my phone, not the kind he was sending. My phone is through the company and the thought of IT getting a hold of it and finding Roger’s text messages or photographs…no way.”

“So, you have a bat phone?” Owen joked as Noah held the phone to his ear.

Noah spoke to Roger for a minute, small talk at first then the invite to come out. When he hung up, he shook his head. “Not tonight. He’s got someone coming over.”

Oliver tapped Owen on the arm, “What about you? Ever thought of being a slave to someone?”

“Oh hell no.”

The next morning, Owen woke late, hung over and still feeling fatigued. They had stayed out too long and drank too much the night before and it was after two when he finally made it home. After going to the bathroom, he went into the kitchen to make something to eat. Standing at the sink he looked in the wood tray where he tossed his wallet, keys and loose change. There was a folded piece of paper, wrinkled up from being in his pocket, among his effects. He unfolded it and saw the bartender’s name and number.

“Joshua” Owen uttered aloud, wondering when he should call him.

Opening the cabinet where he kept aspirin and other basic medications, Owen remembered there were none in the cabinet, having taken the last of them a couple of weeks ago. On the refrigerator was his list of things to buy and he added aspirin.

After a quick lunch, a shower, and dressed in cargo shorts and t-shirt, Owen made his way down to the street. He needed fresh air and exercise and decided to walk down to the drug store and grocery store for the few items he needed. The warmth of the day, the sun bright in the sky, felt good, made his skin feel like it was opening up and releasing the alcohol from the previous night.

Owen sauntered into the drug store and almost stopped short when he saw Jordan was working at the register. He couldn’t get over how attractive Jordan was. A guy who could model for any fashion house. He made his way to the aisle for pain medication, grabbing up a small bottle, and headed to the register. On the way he stopped, wondering how to approach Jordan, especially after the last time when he got blown off so easily. He went through several things he could say then decided on a more direct approach. He opened his wallet and took out a business card and went back to the pharmacy counter in back.

“Can I borrow a pen?”

Owen wrote his telephone number on back and below it:

Call me if you want to have a really good time.

At the register, Owen set the aspirin down along with his card. Jordan scanned the aspirin, dropped them in a small bag and pressed total on the register. “That will be $8.36.”

Owen slipped his card into the reader, and as he waited for it to read, he pushed his business card closer to Jordan, giving him his best smile. Jordan picked it up, read the front, then flipped it around and read the back. He pressed again on the register to finish Owen’s transaction then tossed the card down by the register on the opposite side. Owen looked for some response, some acknowledgment, but Jordan merely held out the small bag and the long receipt.

“Have a nice day” said Jordan, dismissing Owen once again.

Back on the sidewalk, aspirin tucked into a pocket, he ambled down the sidewalk smiling at the way Jordan dismissed him. ‘Win some and lose some’, he thought as he headed toward the grocery store, a few more blocks out from his condo.

The grocery store was a hive of activity, lines at the six open registers and more lined up at the self-service area. Owen grabbed up a basket and cut through toward the center of the store where the few things he needed were located. He was going to grab them and get out, not wasting time wandering up and down aisles.

Back at the front, Owen scanned the lines to see which was the shortest, wondering if he should just go through self-serve, hating the very idea of checking himself out. He strolled along the aisle looking at the length of each line and how piled the carts were for each person. Each aisle looked impossible for his impatience. He passed aisle 6, 5, 4, then 3 and ahead on aisle 2, he saw Avery was behind the register, promoted from stock boy.

Suddenly Owen didn’t care about the length of the line, nor how piled up the carts were for some of the customers. He stepped behind the person at the end of aisle 2’s line and watched Avery ring up the items on the conveyor belt. He loved the way Avery’s black hair was thick and wavy, hanging over his forehead. And the sideburns that didn’t always appeal to him, looked good too. The customer at the check-out took their receipt and stepped away and Owen was able to step a little closer. Close enough to see how Avery’s shirt fit his upper body, sleeves tight around the biceps. There was a tattoo peeking out from the edge of the sleeve of the right arm. Avery smiled at something said to him and Owen saw his white teeth, a sharp contrast with his toned skin, and he noticed there was a gap between the front two. He watched Avery’s strong masculine hands, running item after item over the scanner, then place them in a bag. After waiting for the next three customers to get checked out, he finally stood in front of Avery. He immediately noticed the new earrings in the left ear, three hoops in sequence along the lobe. He handed Avery his customer card and saw the ring, a skull with red crystals in the eye sockets. ‘Goth’ he thought as Avery handed the card back to him.

“How’s your day?” Avery asked, and even though Owen knew it was his standard line, having it heard it several times already, he smiled back.

“Good, and how’s your day so far?”

“Okay. Luckily I get off soon.”

“I bet you can’t wait to get off,” Owen replied.

“That’ll be $24.76”

Owen slipped his card into the reader and glanced back to make sure the next customer wasn’t paying attention, then he leaned forward toward Avery.

“Hey Avery; you like to party?”

“Huh?” Avery replied, smiling, and Owen knew he had been heard.

“You like to have a good time?”

“Sometimes” Avery replied noncommittedly.

“Here’s my card. Give me a call this evening if you’d like to have some fun” Owen whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“Yeah, okay” Avery replied, shaking his head.

Owen didn’t know if Avery was just humoring him or was really interested, but he strolled through the automatic doors, hopeful of a very physical night of sex.

Owen spent the afternoon cleaning up and getting his laundry done, playing music loud enough he could hear it all through the condo, at times singing along with familiar songs. Around four, finally finished, he laid back on the sofa, wondering if he’d be rewarded for his efforts, and if so, who would be the one to call. Joshua or Jordan or Avery? He fantasized about each one as he flipped through television channels. Joshua was the most promising. The one he just knew what could be expected once he got him naked and in bed. Then there was Avery, the next best possibility, the one that intrigued him the most. A dark, almost sinister aspect that bode well for something a bit more rumbustious when it came to sex. Jordan was probably the one to write off, after the way he tossed his card down. But he imagined getting that tall skinny boy in bed, and it would be all arms and legs as he pinned him to the mattress and fucked his ass.

The sun came through the glass doors and the warmth of it made Owen sleepy. He flipped off the television and laid back. Before long, he had drifted off.

With a ring by his cell phone, Owen stirred awake. The sun was below the buildings across the street and his apartment was lit in a warm glow as the day approached its end. Reaching toward the coffee table he fumbled to pick up his cell phone. When he finally had it in hand, he saw there was one text message from a number he didn’t recognize.

You want to play? If serious and willing to submit, reply yes.

Owen sat up, staring at the message trying to process what it meant. He read it again, saying aloud “willing to submit”. ‘Reply yes’ he thought and wondered if this was a joke, someone toying with him. Then he thought of Avery, and his goth appearance. It was tantalizing to imagine the sex that could occur with that boy. Maybe he should reply yes, then take the upper hand when the opportunity arose. He imagined it, Avery pinned down, that muscular body fighting against him wanting to get on top, and he determined to keep him on bottom. He played out the scenario till his cock was hard. He knew it had to be Avery for Jordan nor Joshua would reply like this.

He thought about how things would begin, what ritual would be required in this submission. He pulled up Noah’s number then thought better of it. He wanted to ask what it had been like and what had he done when first meeting Roger. But Owen didn’t want to let Noah find out he was toying with someone looking for him to submit to them.

The sexual nature of it, this role of submission to someone was too intriguing. He’d never given it serious consideration before but now, this text message before him, he wondered about the whole scene that could play out. The idea surfaced in his mind, made itself real. Could he go through with submitting to someone. Was it something he could try to do? He had thought of it before, of course, hadn’t everyone? He had wondered about it, years ago when a guy he met at Pride, dressed in leather from head to toe, wanted him. But it honestly had scared him, even though he laughed it off in front of the guys, so not to let them know how it really affected him.

Now Owen considered it again, as he stepped into the shower and held his head under the spray. He had started to reply numerous times. Sometimes ready to type no and let it go, but more often, than not, he wanted to type yes, and see how the night would play out.

Sitting naked on his bed, cell phone in hand, Owen read the text again. He was all set up to reply. He hit a letter then touched the word he wanted above the keyboard.

Yes.

He tossed the phone down and went to his dresser, pulling out boxers and a t-shirt. He slipped them on and started toward the closet for a pair of jeans, when his phone beeped with a message.

Wear just a t-shirt, jeans and shoes; nothing else.

9 pm; be prepared to stay all night.

832 Stonehaven Way, Apt. 431.

Be on time or don’t bother.

Owen read the reply three times, pretending he didn’t understand the severity of its tone. ‘Nothing else’ and ‘be on time or don’t bother’ kept repeating in his mind and he knew what each meant. It made him nervous, anxious about what it suggested. He pictured Avery greeting him at the door in some leather outfit or maybe nothing at all, and he smiled, despite his reservations.

Owen removed the boxers and pulled an old pair of jeans from his closet. Worn and frayed, with tears in all the strategic locations, he smiled wickedly at the thought of wearing them catching Avery off guard and getting the upper hand. He was a top after all, and it was others who submitted to him. Back in the kitchen he made a sandwich. On the sofa looking out at the darkening sky and the lights of the city coming on, he ate slowly, wondering about the events to transpire later in the night. He knew the address, for it was a complex where Noah lived on the fifth floor, and he wondered if it was someone Noah would know, quickly dismissing the thought for where it would lead.

At 8:15 Owen pulled out of the parking deck and headed north. He drove through the heavy traffic, anxious about arriving on time, even though he had giving himself fifteen extra minutes. At 8:48 he stood at apartment 431, hand raised to ring the bell, then thought better of it. He glanced at his cell phone and watched the minute change to 49. He pulled up social media and saw Noah had posted about an evening of fun laying ahead of him, then he scanned new posts and images meant to be funny. He flipped to a news site reading the headlines, killing time till it was 8:58. He put his phone on silent mode and watched the time change to 8:59. Phone slipped into his pocket, he reached out and pressed the doorbell.

The Taming of a Wild Horse

Owen was dragged toward the bathroom, roughly, the collar cutting into his neck. He struggled to keep up as he moved on hands and knees. He wanted to beg him to slow down, just slow down a minute and let him explain. He hadn’t meant it, the smarting off. He wasn’t thinking, frustrated at what was asked of him, afraid to really do it. To submit in such a manner.

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Yes…I am…it’s just…” Owen stammered as he was dragged into the bathroom. A hand pointed into the shower and he obeyed by getting in.

“You’re not willing to submit; not all the way. Do you want to say the safe word?”

“NO!” Owen exclaimed as he watched him strip and step into the shower right in his face.

“You’re not broken in, not yet. You’re still afraid to allow yourself that freedom. You will relinquish this arrogance and submit to me, or else.”

‘Or else’ rang in Owen’s ears as he watched him hold his flaccid cock. He saw it flex and knew what was coming. He bowed his head as the stream of piss hit him. It rained down around his face and puddled around his legs. At first, he was humiliated, embarrassed as never before. What if his friends saw him now, what would they say? The smell hit him, not as strong as he feared, then he heard the calm commanding voice.

“You’ll submit to me?”

Owen looked up, piss hitting him in the face as he replied. “I’ll submit.”

The stream trickled out and Owen heard the command.

“Suck.”

Owen leaned forward and took him, slipped the flaccid cock into his mouth and worked his tongue over it. It grew quickly till his mouth was full. A hand gripped him by the hair and pushed and pulled his mouth on it and he fought not to gag, drool pouring out of his mouth as cock moved through his lips, over his tongue and pushed at the back of his throat. When his head was pulled back and forced to look up, spit hit his face. 

Owen watched him stare into his face as salvia ran down it.

“What do you have to say to me?” he asked Owen.

“What will you have me do for you?”

Tied to the bed on his knees, head on the mattress with legs and arms pulled toward the foot of the bed, Owen was ass up fully exposed. He saw him enter the room; cock already hard. He felt the bed rock then cock rub along his ass.

“You want this?”

“Yes, sir.”

Owen grunted as cock sank into his hole, all the way, hips smacking against his ass. Then he was fucked, roughly, at a fast pace. He was going to give him the pleasure of his body, let him use it, fuck it in any way so desired. The bed rocked and squeaked noisily. He couldn’t move in any way, tied in a manner that held his body in place. Hips smacked against his ass harder, almost painfully, as cock piston in his hole. There was no slow downing, no attempt to make this fuck last longer. Owen was merely the vessel, a receptacle for him, and by his pace, release was imminent.

Owen heard the familiar grunts and felt the shuddering body against his ass and knew he was taking another load. There was no intimacy to the end of it. No kisses or caresses or words spoken in comfort and pleasure. Just the emptiness of cock pulled free of his hole. But he didn’t have to wait long, and he felt a butt plug pushing against his hole. It was thick, stretching him wider to accommodate it. He shuddered at the invasion but didn’t cry out. It twisted within his tightness, pushed against it with insistence till he loosened and let it slip inside him.

Looking to his side, he watched him leave the room and wondered how long he’d have to wait to prove himself again.

The Reveal

The door swung back, and Owen first saw the bare torso and jeans that hung loosely around a narrow waist. The jeans curled out around it and all he saw was skin. Smooth, firm skin. Looking up along the flat stomach and chest, small round nipples set high on the flat pecs, he came face to face with Jordan. For a moment he was at a loss for words, really surprised by how it wasn’t Avery.

Jordan stepped to the side and Owen moved into the apartment, seeing a sparsely furnished but neat living and dining area. He moved to the end of the bar that separated the kitchen from the living area wondering what he was expected to do, unsure of himself for the first time in a long time. Jordan walked past him, having not said a word, and moved into the living room where he sat in the large armchair that was against the side wall overlooking the room. The back towered over Jordan’s head with the sides curving around slightly. It reminded Owen of a throne in a way, with Jordan holding court.

Owen stepped into the room and started to sit on the sofa, but he stood at the far end of the coffee table, looking at Jordan. Jordan was looking out the window at the lights of the city then casually turned to Owen.

“Strip.”

Owen heard the command but felt torn about doing it. He was the one who usually made the command, and now it was this young guy who was so skinny he knew he could easily overpower him. But he saw the look, one of absolute authority, and he tugged his t-shirt off. He could play along till he got the two of them naked. He tossed it on the sofa and saw Jordan frown. He undid his jeans and spread them open letting Jordan see his cock only to notice Jordan’s eyes were looking at his face, studying him. He pushed them down then worked each leg free, tossing them on the sofa with the t-shirt.

“Have you ever submitted to someone before?”

“Huh…oh, no.”

“You have much to learn.”

“Well, that’s nice, but how do you want to play this. You want to do a little tying up while we fuck or…”

“STOP! Why are you here?”

“What? I’m here to have a good time with you.”

Owen watched Jordan shake his head.

“Get dressed and leave” Jordan uttered in a disappointed tone as he stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him. Owen stood alone in the living room, shocked to be dismissed so suddenly. He hadn’t even gotten off yet. “Well, fuck you too” he mumbled as he reached for his clothes. He was a grown man taking orders from a kid, a rebuke he knew had no merit.

That night, Owen tossed and turned, aggravated more than he could admit. ‘Have you ever submitted to someone before?’ repeated in his thoughts. The whole idea of it made him anxious for the way it countered everything he portrayed about himself. He couldn’t just become someone else, could he? He rolled over on his stomach burying his face in a pillow. He gripped the pillow with both hands as he pushed his face into it, making breathing difficult. Then he imagined what it would have been like if he had submitted to Jordan. He pictured himself going down on knees and going to Jordan, putting his head on Jordan’s lap. He imagined sucking Jordan cock, face buried in his crotch, then hands holding his head down. He imagined that cock ejaculating in his mouth till cum trickled out of the corners of his mouth. He imagined swallowing Jordan’s cum, then sucking on his cock till it was hard again, standing up between spread thighs. He saw himself on his back, legs on Jordan’s shoulders being folded over, legs pressed down against his chest as Jordan penetrated his ass. He imagined the way he’d take it, every inch, and how Jordan would fuck him, relentlessly, till cum oozed back out of his hole.

Owen felt his hard cock press into the mattress as images of being tied up came to him, Jordan tying his hands and legs together, then fucking his mouth, his ass, filling both with cum. He imaged Jordan pulling his hair while fucking his ass and his cock wet the mattress where he was pushing into it. He heard himself beg to be fucked, beg Jordan to stop some punishment, the images of his cries vivid in his mind. He rolled over and took his wet cock, thick and hard in his fist and stroked it as he thought of Jordan fucking his mouth with his head hanging over the side of a bed. He thought of that spent cock being wiped off on his face as he came spewing cum from his neck down to his stomach.

Owen just lay there, letting the cum turn runny, trickling over his sides. He lay there naked, on top of the bed till the cum dried on his skin and he drifted off to sleep, fatigued by his frustrations.

It was crazy, and Owen knew it. He should be home getting ready for bed. Tomorrow was Monday, and he needed some sleep after his restless night before. But he stood in front of apartment 431. He had on gym shorts and a tank top, the least he could wear. His cock bulged obscenely at the crotch, half hard from his aroused state. Both from sexual desire, and from the fear of something else, something he dare not name. He rang the bell and waited.

Jordan swung the door open dressed the same as the night before. Shirtless, with only jeans on. This time the jeans were white, a stark contrast with the golden tan of his skin.

“What do you want?”

“I…” Owen stammered then started again, “to submit…to you.”

There was a smirk, then Jordan stepped back, letting Owen enter. Owen went to the living area and stood where he had the night before. He was nervous as never before, even more so than his first time. That afternoon he had read some about master and servant relationships, the bondage scene, and felt partly aware of expectations even though still confused on some aspects of each. He watched Jordan come into the living area and stand in front of the armchair, but not sitting this time. Owen felt like it was a warning, Jordan less patient than before, ready to walk at a moment’s notice.

“Strip.”

The same command as the night before and Owen didn’t hesitate, pulling the tank top off. This time he folded it neatly and lay it on the coffee table. He slipped the gym shorts down keeping his eyes on Jordan wanting to see some response, for it was all he had on. His cock flopped loosely between his thighs as he slipped each foot free. Folded neatly, he laid them on top of the tank top. Then he stood at attention, hands at his sides, letting Jordan see his naked body.

“Come here and get on your knees.”

Owen moved around the coffee table till he was in front of Jordan and he moved down on his knees, face only inches from the crotch of those white jeans. He could see the tube shape of cock lying sideways within them and he never wanted another’s cock as much as he wanted this one.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Owen held his hands behind his back, intertwining his fingers locking them together. He looked up at the tall skinny body no longer thinking of it as such. He let his eyes travel along the waist where the waistband curled outward and he imagined running his tongue along the gap, pushing down as far as it could reach. He scanned up the flat stomach, over the navel and upward over the flat chest. He could see the texture of the skin’s surface, the firm smoothness of it and he imagined running his tongue over it till Jordan made him stop.

“Take it out.”

Owen hesitate for a second, unsure he heard right. Then he knew. He was to take Jordan’s cock out using only his teeth. He leaned forward, tempted to lick at the skin above the jeans, but he bit down on the jeans and tugged till the button slipped free. He worked his mouth into the small gap, using his tongue and teeth to work the zipper’s pull tab out so he could bite down on it. He worked to the point of frustration, finally capturing it with his teeth and tugged down, feeling the zipper undo the metal teeth. The white jeans parted revealing brown pubic hair, then the base of Jordan’s cock. He worked one side then the other tugging down till the jeans finally slipped down below Jordan’s crotch releasing his cock.

Owen sat back staring at the cock that angled out toward him. It was long, really long, and the head flared out wide. Below it he saw the two large balls hanging loose in their sac, about four inches at least. He wanted to mouth the cock. He wanted to take those balls in his mouth. He wanted to press his nose in the pubic hair or lick below the sac making his way back to Jordan’s hole.

“Suck.”

Owen took Jordan in his mouth and worked his mouth on it till he felt it grow thicker and longer. He worked his lips along the long shaft and tongued the head. He kept it up expecting Jordan to let him have this first load. He wanted it. He wanted that thick white cum to fill his mouth. Jordan held his head while pumping hips, fucking his mouth and he struggled not to gag as the cock head hit the back of his throat.

But Jordan pulled his head off and turned it up till they faced each other.

“Get on the coffee table.”

“What…no…I’m the top…”

“What did you say?” Jordan’s tone firm but commanding.

“I…nothing” Owen stammered, then turned and lay his chest on the coffee table his bare ass pointed at Jordan. He didn’t look back, scared to do so, but he sensed Jordan behind him, then he felt his legs kicked apart. A hand on his ass then a cock rubbing along it. Jordan was going to do it. And he was going to take it.

Owen cinched his teeth tightly together as Jordan stretched him open, then pushed inch after impossible inch into his hole. It seemed to go on forever, till finally, his hole feeling stuffed full, hips pressed against his ass. Hands held his waist as hips smacked his ass with every push inward. Over and over and over, Jordan just kept hammering his hole. The coffee table rocked across the floor as he held tightly to the top’s edge.

He thought of the pain of entry, the way Jordan stretched him open so roughly. There was the pace of their fuck, how it was relentless. But through it all, rocking back and forth between his thighs was his hard cock. It ached for release, the wet head brushing against one thigh or the other. He wanted to take it in hand, to stroke himself to release, but he knew, even if naïve about so much, this was one thing he could not do.

Jordan tightened his grip while his pace slowed. He shoved in hard, held for a moment, then pulled outward, a couple of times all the way, only to shove back into Owen’s depths. It wasn’t long and he grunted roughly, held Owen in an even tighter grip as he pushed inward then tried to jam his cock even deeper.

“Take it…take me” Jordan uttered, and Owen knew he was coming with the way his body shook and jerked while pressed against him.

Owen felt the long pull outward till he was empty, then the rub of wet cock across his ass. He knew Jordan was sated, done for the night by the way he was quickly left alone.

“It’s Sunday night and I have to work in the morning and assume you do too. Get dressed and go. I’ll text you if I want you to come over again.”

Owen eased up off the table and saw he was alone. A door closed around the corner reinforcing this fact. He pulled on his shorts, then tank top, feeling more exposed than before. His erection wouldn’t go down, tenting the shorts obscenely. He couldn’t stop thinking of it. Jordan’s cock, and how it could probe do deeply into his hole. He wished he had brought underwear, maybe even some jeans. He wanted to be dressed when he went back out in public. He was thankful for only having to go from parking deck to parking deck.

He looked for a pad of paper, anything he could write on, then thought better of it. There was so much he didn’t understand and wondered if he had such a desire to do so. Maybe he’ll come over one or two more times and see how things go. Or maybe he’ll text next time what he started to say tonight. ‘I’m a top’ and end it. As he eased out Jordan’s apartment, made his way down the corridor to the elevator, he questioned his own arrogance, knowing there was something about this arrangement with Jordan he would see through to the end, if he was able to live up to Jordan’s expectations.

Two Weeks Later

As usual, Owen was late, but Noah, Oliver and James knew he would be this time. He had told them about having to work over, then going to swing by his condo to clean up, and on the way, pick someone up before meeting them at the bar. The three of them sat on the patio, a small space that had been alleyway between the buildings. Now it was an outdoor bar, with a roll-up panel that let the bar serve directly to the patio. Noah received a text asking where they were seated and he replied quickly, assuming Owen and his guest were nearby.

“Here comes Owen” said Oliver, nodding toward the inside of the bar at the front. They watched Owen, trialed by Jordan, weave through the crowd inside.

“I know that guy; he lives at my apartment complex” said Noah as Owen and Jordan came out.

“He’s fucking gorgeous but look how skinny” said Oliver.

“Never would have thought Owen would go for that, well, not for anything more than a one-night stand” added James.

“What’s his name?” Oliver whispered to Noah before Owen and Jordan stepped up to where they were seated.

“I don’t know. I just see him around sometimes.”

“Owen, you finally made it, and this is?” said James when Owen and Jordan stepped up to the table.

“James…Oliver and Noah, this is Jordan. Jordan this is James and Oliver, and Noah.”

“Hey guys, glad to meet you, and Noah, don’t you live at my apartment complex?”

“Yes.”

“So, Jordan, how did you meet Owen?” Oliver asked.

Noah was watching Owen closely, for he sensed something was different. He saw the red flare up in his face at Oliver’s question, a look around avoiding the question for a second, something he did all the time.

“Owen?” Noah asked, seeing how Jordan was hesitating to answer and Owen looked a little uncomfortable.

Owen leaned in closer, so only the guys could hear, “Well, remember Noah’s thing with Roger? It’s kind of like that.”

“What?” all three of the guys responded, then Noah leaned in closer.

“No way. There is no way you could be a…”

“He’s not” Jordan interjected, adding, “he answers to me.”

There was a moment of silence, some confusion at what Jordan meant, for it didn’t compute, not at first. Noah was the first to fully realize the meaning of Jordan’s reply. He looked at Owen and saw a nod of the head confirming it.

“Oh man, this is too much. How long?”

“He showed up the first time about four weeks ago” replied Jordan.

“Four weeks? Owen has been coming over to your place for four whole weeks?” asked James.

“Yes. I’ve been working with him, and it took a couple of weeks, but I think he knows his role.”

“His role?” asked Oliver, still not believing what he was hearing.

“Owen? You actually look like you’re happy. So, you’re good?” asked Noah.

Owen looked at him, head bent down slightly suppressing a smile, “yeah, Noah, I’m good…we’re good.”

The End