This story focuses on entangling chastity, kink, degradation and pain with love, romance, sensuality and self-discovery. While there is no sex in this chapter, there is sexual content along with character development and a little bit of worldbuilding.
All the normal warnings and disclaimers about being of legal age to read sexual content and this being gay and kinky. If you can’t read this legally then how about you just don’t?
As always, would love to hear what you think and what you’d like to see or what I can improve. Constructive criticism is not only appreciated but encouraged, but if you read it and then leave comments that it’s depraved or wrong or disgusting, I’ll just point out the fact that you read so you must have been enthralled and should get therapy to deal with your internalized kinkshaming.
From Chapter 1
Angel, a Latino man two years younger, had a full sleeve of line work tattoos on his right arm and flowers in the same style on his right pec, all of his muscles bulging but not bulky. His bio said that he’s into things “that not everybody can vibe with” and that if guys matched he would tell them more.
None of them, or any of the other less promising or enticing men, were an immediate match. Except Angel.
We matched immediately when I swiped right. The first message he sent made my whole body tingle.
“hey so i wanna get to know you as a person and not just a sexual being (def wanna get to know that side of you too), but i’m too curious and wanna know more about what you’re into. wanna just go straight to snap?”
Chapter 2
“how long have you been permalocked?” he finally asked me.
Angel was, it turned out, a bit of a gentleman. We sent chats back and forth for more than an hour, talking about life and goals and sharing stories, before he asked that question. It was at times frustrating to lay there on my bed, my dildo still steadily fucking me, talking about everything except sex. But it was also amazing to have someone take a genuine interest in me as a person. Still, I felt a pulse of excitement start in my chest and radiate through my body at that question.
I responded that I’d been locked for months but only made it permanent the night before.
“congrats on going through with it!” he replied.
It felt strange that he was congratulating me on making my dick permanently sexually obsolete, but more than that it was sort of liberating. I felt seen and, even more than not feeling judged, I felt accepted. Being judged by people who found out about my permanent chastity cage, getting disgusted looks and being avoided by people and ending up ostracized, was one of the biggest fears that kept me from committing for so long. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't now becoming a turn-on for me, though.
“thanks haha it wasn’t easy to go through with but so far i’m super glad i did”
Angel told me about one time he experimented with chastity, how he was so turned on by doing something so culturally taboo and how he was constantly horny, but that he didn’t last a full three days. It wasn’t for him. In fact, the experience turned him off to bottoming almost entirely.
“i have so much respect for a guy who will even try chastity for a couple days, and even more when he does it long term. i can’t imagine what it takes to do it permanently but i have to assume you love it since you made that decision”
I smiled as I read his message. Saying he respected me resonated somewhere deep inside and the way he talked to me so kindly and like just another person made me feel safe.
Angel changed the subject back to “normal” topics, asking about my work and college and telling me about how he lucked out and got a full-time job in his field a year ago, when he was 20, with the promise of a promotion after he got his degree.
It felt so nice to talk with him about non-sexual topics, and the way he kept bringing it back to sex was phenomenal. It kept me on my toes. It kept me horny. After we’d been talking for almost two hours I pulled the dildo out of my ass and switched it off. It was small so it wasn’t going to cause any damage or intense pain having it in for that long, but it was getting uncomfortable. It wasn’t five minutes after that before he brought the conversation back around to sex.
“so is it ok if i ask for a pic? you look so great on tinder and i really wanna see more”
My nub tried to get hard as I typed out my response, knowing what the answer to my question would be.
“what kinda pic?”
“full body? only if you’re ok with that, we can just spend more time getting to know each other if you want”
My locked dick jumped involuntarily as I read that.
“i don’t have any clothes on rn. you somewhere that you can open a snap without getting in trouble? if not or if that’s not what you want rn i can put on some clothes”
He sent back a smirking emoji then said he wasn’t around anybody and I could send whatever I wanted.
“dressed, naked, partly naked, face, no face, whatever you want. i’m letting u pick the starting point for your own sexual objectification and submission to me”
Breathing heavily and overcome with anxious excitement that churned my stomach and tightened my chest, I got up from the bed and went to my full length mirror. There was no doubt where I wanted to start things off: with me willingly offering my entire body to him without shame, dignity or limits. I stood there, my legs just slightly spread, and held the phone to the side so it didn’t block any of my body, looked into the mirror, looked over my body for a second with pride, made sure my face was fully visible and put on a soft smile I hoped conveyed a message of both reverent submission and excitement. I snapped the pic then sent it.
I got so turned on just by that, I turned my body to face the other way and twisted just enough that I could see the mirror and took another pic of my back, sticking my ass out just a tiny bit. I hit send then laid down on the bed again, lifting my legs up and spreading my ass for a hole pic with my face and locked nub both visible in it. My hole was pink and slightly open from the small dildo. He opened the first photo and I waited. Each second felt like 10.
Suddenly I was starting to feel panicked. After only two hours of talking mostly about life with sex woven in, I’d already developed a crush. What if he didn’t like what I sent? What if it was all a setup, he was pretending to be interested and he was sitting there, laughing at me? What if he was gonna expose me? Or worst of all, what if he saw it and was immediately turned off and just ghosted me?
I reminded myself that it wasn’t a timed photo and told myself he was taking so long because he was enjoying it.
“what do you think?” i sent as a chat a few seconds later, knowing it might come off as desperate but not caring. I was starting to sweat from the tension.
Then suddenly the photo appeared in the chat. He’d saved it. From a valley of doubt and anxiety I soared to happiness and hope. The second opened and again stayed that way another minute before it, too, was saved in chat. The last one was opened and stayed that way for several minutes before it was finally saved in chat, too. His little character popped up at the bottom of the chat and he started typing.
“is it ok for me to save them in chat? probably should have asked first haha”
I was typing out “yes” when he started typing another message, so I waited. This second message was a reply to my plea for validation.
“i love it. you’re fucking beautiful and your cage is so cool. nub looks so adorable, and i can tell you really take care of your body, too”
“hehe thanks” I responded. “and of course you can save them. just please don’t send them anywhere, i’m not really ready to explore an exposing kink”
“absolutely not” he answered right away. “i can’t imagine doing something like that to someone and kinks are something we usually don’t share with a ton of people. if you decide you want to that’s great for you but you never have to”
He kept typing and I got three more messages.
“you’ve got a gorgeous face”
“and that smile oh my god”
“i can tell from your eyes that you’re a sweet person too”
I thanked him, beaming as I typed, then started another message. There was no reason for me to be nervous asking my next question; I’d just sent him three photos in which I was fully exposed and he’d showered me with compliments, but I still felt vulnerable.
“any chance i could see you too?”
“i’m at the office rn” he replied. “it’s after 5 so i’m alone but i still don’t wanna risk being caught, so i can send you a face pic and a dick pic and a full body pic with clothes on but i’ll have to wait til i get home to send full body nudes”
I waited a second, thinking he was going to send the pic right away, when another chat came in.
“is that ok? sorry to disappoint but promise i’ll get you full nudes when i’m home”
I smiled again at his message. He was incredibly considerate and asking permission before just spamming me with pics including one of his dick was, for some reason, so endearing.
“no no that sounds great. i know from your tinder that you’re sexy af but i can’t wait to see more”
It didn’t take him long. Only 30 seconds later there was a pic in the chat.
“can i save yours too?” I asked
“of course”
I opened the first one and drew in a sharp breath. He was sitting in a cubical, obviously in an office. It was lit only by sunlight coming in the windows, the overhead lights off. Center frame was his cock. Seven and a half, maybe eight inches long, uncut with the foreskin over the head but not so much it bunched back up and hung at the end. I was thrilled. Uncut cock is the best.
I wasn’t looking at it for three seconds when another image came in. Still taking in everything in the first pic, his cock was a delicious bronze color. It was thick, with a few veins visible. The head, a pinkish-brown color, just barely peeked out the top of his foreskin. A shiny bead of precum rested on the tip. His balls visible beneath the shaft, smooth and a little loose in the sack. It was sticking out of his jeans, through the zipper. I held down my thumb on the image and saved it in chat just as a third image was delivered.
I opened up the next and it was his cock again, this time with the foreskin rolled back. The head was a beautiful tapered mushroom, still hosting that bead of precum on the tip. I stared at it for a few more seconds and two more images came in.
The third was his cock resting on his desk, the hoodie now back over the head. I saved it, then went to the next, which came in just as I opened the third. He was sitting in his chair, his cock and balls sticking out from his zipper with the foreskin over the head. He was wearing a light blue button-down that fit him tightly, tucked into the jeans with a designer belt and a light copper-colored tie around his neck. The fabric on his shirt wasn’t terribly thick and hinted at his bronze skin tone underneath. His nipples were hard, but the shirt was such a slim fit it kept them mostly flat. I could just see a hint of the tips of his nipples. I could see how pronounced his pecs were even through the fabric and could almost feel my head resting on them after he finished pounding and breeding me with that gorgeous cock.
He was showing off a cocky smile, his full lips turned up deviously. It gave me butterflies. His eyes, dark brown and about one third lidded to match his smile, looked all at once kind and soft and confident with a hint of authority and touch of sadism behind them. His cheek bones were high and sharp. Looking up into the camera, his chiseled jawline was hinted at. He was a prime example of pure, sexy man. I saved that one, then went on to the next.
The last image was him standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in the office, his cock put away but the outline prominent in his jeans. I saved that one too.
I was at a loss for words. My mind was running furiously trying to come up with a way to tell him how perfect he was when he sent another message.
“haha i take it you like what you see?”
“i can’t find words” I answered. I thought for a second, finding a way to express my awe. “you are at the very least one of the most beautiful men i’ve ever seen”
In response he sent just a smirking emoji.
The conversation continued jumping back and forth between sweet and innocent conversation getting to know each other and overt, horny, lusty, depraved messages that I might have thought I’d get whiplash. After two hours of that, he asked to meet in-person.
“i wanna meet you like asap. would that be cool? if its too quick i understand and we can keep talking more”
“i’m so down”
I replied without thinking.
“how about tomorrow? i wanna take you out on a proper date and get to know you”
“i’ll make sure i’m free”
“awesome. what are your thoughts on first date sex?”
I thought about this for a moment, knowing the answer was that I loved it but not wanting to come off as a slut. I was embarrassed when I realized I’d already made it clear I was an absolute cockhungry faggot and there was no point in pretending otherwise. Angel knew it, he was just being a gentleman by asking instead of openly assuming.
“love it. it’s always a good idea to test drive a car before you buy it”
I felt a hint of pride with myself at the response. I’d compared myself to a car and talked about dating me the same was as buying something. I’d framed myself as an object to be owned as property. And Angel’s response sent my mind immediately into a vivid sexual fantasy.
“what about sex before even leaving for the first date? your date getting to know you as a sexual being before even introducing each other in person?”
I had three fingers in my hole without even realizing it, typing out my response with one hand.
“that would be so hot,” I answered, picturing myself kneeling on the floor in my apartment’s entry with the door unlocked waiting for him to come in and wordlessly make use of my body, fucking my skull then fucking my ass, looking up at him and feeling degraded. “having a long-term partner think of me as a submissive sex plaything from the very start is perfect for my personality. what about you?”
“you’re perfect”
He started typing another message right away, so even as I blushed and fingered myself harder at his response I waited.
“i want to get to know you as a person and be romantic and caring with you and build a real, deep, healthy relationship, but i also wanna objectify the fuck out of you”
Harder fingering, deeper blushing, lust fog clouding my mind. He started typing again.
“i wanna build two relationships with you that coexist seamlessly. one where we both trust and respect and care for and eventually fall in love with each other and one where i absolutely, totally dehumanize you and make you think of yourself as nothing more than a mouth and boypussy and body for me to use and enjoy however i want, a place to dump my cum, a mindless sex toy to share with whatever men i want, and find a perfect balance so we live both realities at once”
Fingers moving inside me of their own accord, I moaned as I felt myself near a boypussy orgasm. I wanted it to happen and yearned for that humiliating release, but I also didn’t want to allow myself to get off on my own. I wanted to force myself to rely on strangers and a master to give me orgasms only when they wanted to, and especially with my master.
And even as much as I wanted to be an unquenchable slut putting out to any man who wasn’t unattractive enough to repulse me (fuck being attracted to all those men, I know my purpose in life is to put out to anybody I could stand to be near), the thing I wanted most was to be controlled and practically owned by a master. I wanted to surrender myself to another man’s control and become unhealthily dependent on him, my desire to be brainwashed and indoctrinated so strong I managed to back off a bit and come back down from the edge. I watched as the bubble in the bottom of the screen showed he wasn’t done.
“i can’t think of any better introduction than coming into your apartment to find you on your back on your bed waiting for me. we’ve both made it clear that i’m a dominant top and you’re a submissive bitch bottom, so what do you think about us starting our exploration of dynamic right now? i can go ahead and give you commands for how i want to find you tomorrow. just thinking about it is making my aztec cock rock hard”
I practically begged.
“please do that. i feel like i need you to take control right now. you’re such a fucking aztec version of a greek god and the way you’re talking sounds like perfection. i’m so desperate to be stripped of my free will and surrender to you”
He didn’t respond immediately, taking a couple dozen seconds that felt like a minute. I imagined him grinning and muttering something about how I’m such a pathetic whore and it fueled my continued push into hormonal delirium. Then he started typing and I felt a strange clarity as I waited for the first command from this man.
“i’m showing up at 8 p.m. tomorrow. your door is going to be unlocked and i’ll find you on your back in the center of our bed, legs spread as wide as you can while holding them back, locked little nub as clearly on display as it can be, wearing a blindfold, a leather collar and nipple clamps. you’ll get in that position with everything where i say it should be at 7:45, not a minute sooner or later”
“yes sir”
He ignored my acceptance of his command in his next message.
“you’ll set up your phone with that tripod i saw in the background of one pic and start recording yourself preparing and getting into position so i can verify you followed my instructions for timing exactly and enjoy watching it later if i want.”
Without a break he was writing up another message. It was practically an essay, typed out rapid fire and sent.
“the blindfold, collar and nipple clamps are all important and you WILL have all of them on and they WILL stay on until i take it all off you. depriving yourself of sight will enhance physical sensations, demonstrate to me that you want this enough to let me do whatever i want to you without seeing it coming and prove to yourself that you truly want to be powerless to endure whatever pleasure, pain or abuse i wanna inflict for my own satisfaction. putting the collar on yourself and wearing it while you wait for a man you’ve never met and have been talking to for only a day will be an act of self-degrading submission that helps you see yourself as a pet instead of a person. the nipple clamps will get more and more uncomfortable with each second, making your tits super sensitive if i decide to play with them at some point, and it’ll be evidence that you’re willing to endure discomfort and even pain if that’s what makes my big brown cock happy”
I again accepted it all with a simple “yes sir” and he typed again.
“i’m not telling you anything about what i’m gonna do to you. you won’t say a word the entire time, you’ll let me move your body however i want and make it easy for me and you’ll follow any command i give you”
Again a “yes, sir” and then he sent a pic. I opened it. It was his cock, out of his pants again with the foreskin pulled back, held over his desk and the angle, lighting and clarity of the picture clearly displaying a stream of precum flowing from his cock and puddling on the desk. I saved it in the chat again.
“i can’t wait to start dehumanizing you in person before getting to know you as a valuable, complex, beautiful human being”
And just like that, the tone switched back to something vanilla. He quizzed me about my favorite foods (tapas, enchiladas, mediterranean and Asian food, especially Japanese, Vietnamese, Lao and Korean), favorite movies (mainly understated dramas and intelligent comedies), favorite color (forest green) and so on. He told me his favorite foods were the same Asian foods I like, along with Italian and authentic Mexican (“like me,” he added after Mexican). We had the same taste in movies and his favorite color was blue.
I did some more unpacking and decorating as we messaged back and forth, sent him a video of me mopping the floor nude, my face and locked nub clear in the vid, then another of me cook with just a short apron that covered barely a third of my nub, before I turned off the camera and ate dinner. I watched TV without actually paying attention because we were talking. It took longer than usual to shower before bed because I kept grabbing my phone and leaning out of the shower to check and respond to his messages.
Before I passed out in bed while messaging him, I sent Angel my address, the code for the parking garage, the code to get into the building and details on where he could safely park his car. Then, halfway through sending a response in a conversation we were having about philosophy, I slipped into sleep.
The next day, Sunday, I woke up to a message from Angel.
“do you have all your clothes unpacked?”
I responded that I did, then he asked where. I told him about the clothes in the coat closet and that the rest were in my regular closet.
“good. i’ll pick out your outfit when i get there tonight. i’m not gonna message you again today and you won’t message me. i’ll show up when i said and you’ll be in position exactly like i told you starting exactly when i told you. do not touch your hole, don’t put anything in it, your pussy isn’t yours to play with anymore. don’t respond to this. i’ll see you tonight.”
The day was at once a blur and a painfully slow drudge, thinking of nothing but Angel and his cock and his vision for a relationship in which we were loving, caring, respectful, romantic partners who value each other coupled with a contradictory and obscene power dynamic in which I was degraded, dehumanized, objectified, used, abused and controlled and he did with and to me whatever he wanted, the two sides of the relationship free of clear borders or distinctions.
I realized he hadn’t addressed the openness of our relationship that I wanted and needed to fulfill what I had decided was my purpose of putting out to and being used by countless hot, dominant men. I assumed allowing me to do that would be included in the part of our relationship that embraced respect for each other but realized I would need to clarify at some point that night.
I didn’t leave the apartment the whole day, waiting.
I set an alarm for 7 p.m. and when it went off I set up my phone and started recording my bedroom. I walked away into my bathroom, douched, showered, fixed my hair and almost put on two spritzes of cologne but stopped, deciding that would be part of Angel’s decision for how I would dress for our date. It as 7:30 when I walked back into the room. I got the collar and nipple clamps from my toybox (really a nice chest) at the foot of my bed and laid them out on the bed. I made sure the alarm clock was clearly visible in the video and got my eye mask I slept with from the drawer on that same nightstand. At 7:40, I put on the collar. 7:42 I put on the nipple clamps. 7:44 I got on the bed and made sure the camera could see me. At 7:45 I put on the blindfold and got into position.
Making me video the process of getting ready was intelligent on Angel’s part. I would have done exactly as he said even without the video, but this way there would be no doubt. We would build trust as time went on, but with this he could look at the video to find the time he walked into the room and see how long I’d been in position.
It wasn’t easy to stay like that, even though it was an extreme turn on (and surprisingly satisfying) to subject myself to discomfort and degradation at his command before even being in the same room with him or hearing his voice for the first time. I was gritting my teeth and wondering how much time had actually passed, questioning if he was actually coming or if this was some prank, when I heard the door open. Footsteps reached my ears and the door closed. I heard rustling for a moment, then footsteps again. They grew closer and my breathing quickened, my heart beat faster, my body screamed unexpectedly that I was in danger and needed to take off my blindfold.
But I resisted that sense of warning. Idiodic as it was, I believed that this man I’d never seen in person and had only been messaging with for about a day was safe. Blindfolded, I could very well be putting my life in his hands. He could be walking into my room with a knife or a gun or a baseball bat or something. The person walking toward my room could be someone completely different. Who’s to say Angel didn’t give my address and all these details to someone else?
The footsteps made it to my room and I heard a soft “wow.” It was breathy and not really enough to give me any hint as to what he sounded like. He stood there for a moment, then I heard him walk closer. Something was sat on the bed, it sounded like a plastic shopping bag. He got on the bed on his knees next to me. I felt the mattress sag slightly where he was.
Fingers touched my tight ball sack and I flinched. He teased me with his fingers, then put one under the cage resting against my pubic bone. I hadn’t been this turned on in a while, and my helpless little nub was trying so desperately and pointlessly to get hard that the cage was being pushed outward, pulling my balls forward with it.
He slid his finger between the cage and my body and gently lifted it about a centimeter, then lowered it. His hand went over my abs, tracing each one, then he flicked once at each nipple clamp. He felt my lean pecs, massaged the muscle, then ran his fingers over my neck, applying just the tiniest bit of pressure. I was breathing so hard I was starting to get a little lightheaded. He took my jaw on either side in his hand and gently turned my face back and forth as if appraising it. His thumb ran across my bottom lip while his index finger curled under my jaw to hold it, then he opened my mouth and caressed my inner lower lip, then swiped his thumb over the tip of my tongue.
He closed my mouth, teased my hair softly, caressed each cheek, then went back to my lower body. He repositioned himself between my spread, held back legs, and felt them up from my ankles to my knees, then ran his hands along my inner thighs. Feeling up my ass, he spread my muscled cheeks and gently ran an index finger over my hole, already tight again. Then he stood and walked. I heard him go into the bathroom, then the closet. He rummaged around for a minute or two then came back.
I heard clothes laid on the bed, then the rustle of the plastic shopping back. It sounded like a cardboard box was opened and then the bottle of lube I kept on my nightstand was picked up. Angel, assuming it was him, snapped open the cap, I heard the slight squirt of lube form the bottle, then he positioned himself between my legs again. He grabbed ahold of my nub and balls with one hand and pushed gently back. I raised my ass up for him, less in response to understanding what he wanted than in an effort to relieve the uncomfortable pulling on my balls. Something cold and hard, rubber or silicone or plastic touched my hole. He pressed in and I pushed out and immediately recognized the feel of a butt plug entering me.
He wasn’t going to fuck me? I was confused. Maybe he was, but he was going to play with my body for a while with the plug in my ass as he did. The plug was curved, positioned so its tip pressed constantly against my prostate. The base was slim and log, filling my crack. The plug in, he gently took hold of my hands and removed them from behind my knees, then lowered my legs. He moved to kneel beside me and I parted my lips slightly, a subconscious expectation that he would soon be feeding me his cock.
Instead, his hand went under my upper back, between my shoulder blades, and he lifted me up. I could smell his perfume, a fresh, citrusy, lightly masculine scent. His other hand again grabbed me by the chin and he turned my head, then his lips met mine. It was a peck, a long peck but no movement in his lips. Then he lowered me back down and moved again. After a moment, he took one foot and slipped it through the leg of the underwear — I recognized them by feel as some of my soft, sexy briefs — then the other. He worked them up my legs and over my ass. He caressed my balls for a half second then covered them and my nub in the underwear. The pants came next, though he left them unbuttoned and unzipped, then he sat me up, removed the nipple clamps with a stinging yank on each one, and put a shirt on me. It was a button down, and he fastened each button except the collar, second and third.
He grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up, guiding me off the bed to stand next to it. He tucked the shirt into my pants, then zipped and buttoned them. A belt went on around my waist and he fastened it. Then he put socks on my feet one at a time, moving my right hand to his shoulder to support myself.
Still blindfolded, I was fully dressed with my boypussy plugged and my hopelessly imprisoned nub leaking and aching as it tried desperately but totally in vain to become fully erect. I had some ideas about how he’d dressed me, but I couldn’t imagine any of them went well with the collar still around my neck. I heard him pick something up, then was startled as he sprayed two spritzes of perfume on my neck. He took my hands in his and led me out of the bedroom into the living room, then grabbed my waist.
“Hi,” he said softly, his voice smooth and sensuous and his tone betraying a smile on his face. “I’m Angel.”
I blushed and my body trembled.
“I’m Sebastian,” I answered, my voice mostly steady as I smiled sheepishly.
Angel’s hands slid up my sides then over my chest, up my throat, over my cheeks and to my temples, going up to grab the blindfold.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I answered.
He pulled the eye mask away from my face, then up over my head. My eyes were closed. I opened them to find the same Latino Adonis staring back at me, even more gorgeous than in his photos.
“It’s good to meet you, Sebastian,” he said with a little laugh. “You’re an even more beautiful creature in person.”
I loved how he called me creature. It made me feel like something other than a person, even as he used the word in a compliment.
“I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re more gorgeous in person, too,” I answered, struggling to keep eye contact as the already well-demonstrated power dynamic made me feel shy in front of him. It wasn’t like me to react this way, but I could practically feel power and authority radiating from Angel.
It turned me on beyond description to know that this man had seen and played with my totally exposed body, put a plug in my boypussy, kissed me and dressed me before I was allowed to see him (fully dressed except shoes he’d taken off at the door, mind you). Before he looked into my eyes. Before I’d heard his voice or he’d heard mine. Before even making proper introductions.
“I thought it would be fun to start our journey together by lying to you,” Angel said as he took my hand and walked me to the door. He started putting my shoes on my feet for me. “That’s something that’ll be important. You’re gonna learn that I can do whatever I want, including lying to you and deceiving you, but you don’t have the same freedom.”
He stood up after he finished tying my shoes, then pointed to his own shoes. I knelt down and began putting his shoes on him as he kept talking.
“You’ll never lie to me,” Angel continued. “If you do, you’ll be punished. Do you know why?”
“Because you’re a man and I’m your boy,” I answered without hesitation. “The top priority in my life should be your pleasure and satisfaction and fulfillment.”
I thought for a half second before adding, “And your top priority in life should be your own pleasure and satisfaction and fulfillment, too. You can be selfish. You can be uncaring about me. That’s just the reality of nature. You were born to be a dominant man whose every wish and desire should be fulfilled, and I was born to be a submissive bitch whose primary purpose in life is making your every wish and desire into a reality.”
I looked up at him as I finished tying his shoes to see him staring down at me with a satisfied smile.
“When does your ‘pleasure and satisfaction and fulfillment’ come into the picture,” he asked, emphasizing his use of my own words as he took me under my arms and lifted me to my feet.
“Never,” I answered. I took a half beat before continuing. “Now. Whenever my pleasure gives you pleasure. Never when it doesn’t.”
He smirked and nodded his head, satisfied at my answer.
“Good boy,” he said, taking my hand and opening the front door.
I didn’t notice until he turned around to lock the door that he’d brought my keys with him. When the door was locked, Angel took my hand in his again and started walking. The plug rubbed my prostate with each step, back and forth, making me leak obscene amounts of pre. I did my best to focus on Angel when he started taking again, the sensation of anal stimulation after such a long day of waiting in lust-controlled anticipation making it a little difficult.
“Do you know why I lied to you?” Angel asked. “Other than because I could?”
“Because you wanted to?” I answered with a question.
Angel rocked his head back and forth as he considered my answer.
“Not wrong, but not what I was looking for,” he told me as he neared the elevator. “I lied to you because now you’ve been waiting all day, anticipating having your tight little boypussy evicerated by my big Aztec cock, probably more horny than you’ve ever been, with a collar around your neck, your nub in its cage where it belongs and a plug in your pussy to open it up just the tiniest bit and keep stimulation on that g-spot in there.”
I nodded as I listened. I could tell by his voice that he wasn’t done talking. He walked us past the elevator and around a corner, toward the door to the garage.
“That means you’ve got a lust high,” he told me. “You’re so horny that your mind is more moldable. You’re gonna be sexually frustrated all through the drive to the restaurant, all through dinner and all through the drive back. So you’ll be in the perfect mental state for me to claim you and cement your submission to me. But once we reach the car, we won’t talk about sex anymore. We won’t talk about the cage or the plug or the collar. I’m gonna pretend none of it’s there and you’re gonna just accept that this is who you are now, and you’re gonna do it while we’re on a romantic date that is, except for those things, completely vanilla. Tell me why I want that.”
The answer came to me almost immediately. Angel opened the door as I replied.
“Because you want our relationship to be sweet, cute and romantic at the exact same time that I’m submissive to your dominance,” I told him confidently. We reached his car in the garage, a Honda Civic coup, and we both stopped at the passenger side. “This is one way to make sure the power dynamics are always a part of our interactions from the very start, even when we aren’t talking about it or acknowledging it because we’re having a romantic, vanilla date.”
“Such a smart boy,” Angel praised me, putting his right hand on the side of my neck between my collar and jaw. “I knew I’d found a good one.”
Thanks so much for reading! I know I've been away for a while, so thank you for your patience. I'd love to tell you I'd be updating regularly from now on, but until there's some way these stories start paying the bills there will be breaks between installments. The next chapter will definitely have graphic depictions of depraved, kinky sex that I hope you'll enjoy, so please stay tuned. I appreciate and love your patience and all your feedback (especially from the readers who tell me exactly where they blew their loads and why lol)!
