Donovan
Donovan awakened tangled up in his sheets, his cock already hard and leaking through his shorts.
“Fuck me,” he cussed, readjusting his dick but resisting the urge to stroke it. Today was Sunday, and Cole was expecting him. But as the haze of sleep thinned, he realized he might not even want to have him due to his behavior the day before. Donovan punched his mattress, biting his lower lip; his brashness probably put a strain on their relationship.
He might as well get it over with and cum.
8:37am.
Sunday.
He unplugged his phone and clicked on Cole’s name.
Donovan: Hi, u still up for today?
Two hours later, his erection persisted, ropes of precum running down his aching shaft. He had allowed himself a few strokes, but the expectation of Cole’s response had kept him from blowing his load.
Ding.
He jumped on his phone, the notification ring filling him with apprehension.
Cole: Be at mine at 11:30. Wear white briefs, black jeans, a white t-shirt, and white sneakers. Also, put on that leather jacket I like.
His shower was quick, and Donovan followed the instructions to the letter, driven by horniness.
He was at Cole’s at 11:21.
He knocked too hard on the door and pulled at the seam of his T-shirt as he waited for it to open. The corridor was brightly lit and clinical in essence, and the old carpeted flooring smelled of old things and dust. A tightness around his heart spread to his lungs, making it hard to breathe.
The door opened, and Cole appeared in the frame wearing loose gray joggers and an equally loose burgundy sweatshirt. The symbol of the University, a bobcat, was sewn on it in gold.
“Hey,” Cole said.
“Hey.”
“Come on in, lose the shoes and socks.”
Donovan entered the apartment; it was his second time there. The first time he had been around, they had played video games and drank beers. Nothing of note had happened. The flat was in the same state as before: clean, tidy, and sweetly scented. The bedroom was on the right, as was the bathroom. The main room was small but had all the necessities, a big enough kitchen, and a nice couch with a plush rug perfect for the winter days.
Cole sat on the couch, and Donovan went on to follow him. But he raised his hand to tell him to remain where he was.
Donovan stopped moving.
“I want you to take off your jacket now,” Cole eyed him like a hunter would his prey.
Donovan inhaled sharply and took off his jacket at once. His erection starting to grow.
“Put it aside on the back of the chair,” Cole sighed. “Take off your t-shirt, but do it slower.”
Donovan awkwardly pulled it over his head, mindfully flexing his muscles to make the gleam in the soft golden light of the lamplight in the corner. The dimly lit room was intimate, and its warmth was enough for sweat to seep out of his pores. He held the shirt in his hand, waiting for instructions.
Waiting for instructions. It rang bitterly in his mind, but his boner told another story.
“Fold it up, and put it on the table. Then, on to the pants.”
He then unbuckled his belt and painstakingly undid every button of his jeans. The rough fabric brushed on his skin as he pulled them down. Instinctively, he folded them up and put them on top of his folded shirt.
“Good boy.”
He stopped breathing for a second and resumed.
“Thank… you.” He replied.
“You’re already all worked up, I see,” Cole got up. “Do you want us to take the next step?”
“Yes, dude,” Donovan replied a bit too fast. “Yes, please.”
“Please… Sir,” Cole let out, dangerously close. “That’s how you’ll address me from now on.”
Donovan turned his head, closing his eyes.
“Don’t look away from me, bull,” Cole said sharply.
“Sorry,” Donovan breathed in deep. “Sir.”
“Good bull, now we’re talking.”
One of Cole’s warm hands touched the small of his back, and the other he placed on Donovan’s chiseled abs, the dark hairs of his happy trail leading down to his aching cock. Cole pulled on the band, and his breath caught. He pulled down the white briefs without notice, and Donovan silently let it happen. His thick cock, all veins and soft skin, bobbed out of it, a drop of precum falling to the floor. His sack was tight due to the cold, but as Cole massaged them, the skin loosened and his nuts fell lower.
Donovan felt like he was being inspected, which he was in a sense. His hands were behind his back, his whole body standing to attention.
“You’re a fine specimen,” Cole kissed his collarbone, sending shivers down his spine.
As he did, he stared down at Donovan's big cock and pulled back his foreskin slowly. The moist head, pink and silky, revealed itself. When his foreskin reached the crown of his cockhead, it slipped over it with more difficulty, large as it was.
Without a word, Cole left him like this. Cockhead exposed, and went to grab something in a drawer.
A pair of silver handcuffs.
“Keep your hands behind your back,” Cole instructed.
“But,” Donovan trailed off. “Is this…”
“Trust me,” Cole murmured.
Donovan nodded; the cold of the cuffs made him jump. He was then led to the couch. It was cozy, his balls grazing the rough fabric uncomfortably.
“Now is how this’ll go,” Cole started. “I will edge you to the brink, and stop. I’m the only one who gets to decide when and how you cum. I’m your handler in this session, and I’ll know when you’re ready. Is that understood, bull?” Cole’s voice was serious, with undertones of care.
“I understand, sir.” Donovan’s cock was reaching his navel, precum trickling down his balls.
Cole swiped it from Donovan’s wide cock slit. It made him wince. It was usually sensitive, but was even more so after not cumming for a few days. Cole put his thumb in his mouth, licking up the sticky juice.
“Delicious,” Cole said as he sat on his coffee table, still dressed.
Donovan noticed his cock was hard as well, his circumcised head showing through his pants.
Cole seized Donovan’s nuts and pulled on them lightly, weighing them out, his foreskin rolled over his cockhead, and Donovan relaxed. Cole spat in the palm of his other hand and, while still holding Donovan’s sack, applied his saliva over his dick. Donovan flinched; his head had always been sensitive, and this teasing was sure to drive him mad.
He tried to wiggle out of his tormentor’s touch.
“Don’t move, take the polishing,” Cole ordered, pressing harder into his balls.
The pain kept Donovan in place.
“Good boy.” He eased his hold.
The twisting on his head made it increasingly sensitive, and it turned red from a light shade of pink. The polishing made it glisten and shine under the lamplight, and soon Donovan was writhing under Donovan’s expert touch. His nuts could not escape the collar of his fingers, and the tip of his cock had no choice but to suffer through the torture.
He had been captured, cuffed, and had to suffer the consequences of his decision.
At that moment, he fully belonged to Cole.
More precum oozed out of his shaft, and Cole used it as lube. The strokes deepened.
His hand went up the full length of Donovan’s aching dick, down to the balls, and then up to the head.
Repeat.
Donovan felt cum pooling in his balls, his slit widening.
“Tell me if you’re about to cum,” Cole said. “No cumming unless I allow it, bull.”
Donovan had forgotten.
What if I came without permission?
“Yes, sir,” He complied.
“Good bull.”
His cockhead suffered further assault when Cole grabbed it firmly, just under the crown of his head. The tip dangerously exposed. He placed his palm over it, pushed into it, and rubbed it roughly. Donovan groaned, a beg about to escape his lips. But he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Cole smirked, as if knowing Donovan was about to break. He pinched his lips to lock his begging away.
A few minutes onward, Cole stopped and fondled the heavy balls Donovan had kept full.
“They’re so heavy, I wonder if we could make them even heavier. I guess you could do with a few more days without cumming.”
“NO!” Donovan half screamed. “Please, sir… I really want to cum. Please, sir,” Donovan’s pride was shattered; he felt shame from his defeat. But his aching balls couldn’t take it anymore.
“Calm down, bull, I was just joking,” Cole continued, stroking and spitting on Donovan’s cock.
His shaft tensed up, his sack lifted, and his breathing became ragged.
“I’m close, sir, can I…”
Cole stopped stroking. The cum stuck in his shaft.
“Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” Cole asked.
“Yes, sir, yes.” Donovan’s eyes watered; he had been subdued. But his pride took over. “I hate you so much for doing this to me. I want to pound that smirk off of your face.”
Why did he say that?
Fear gripped him.
“Is that a way to talk to your handler?” Cole trapped his cockhead and polished it harder.
Donovan moaned, his back arching. His cock was on fire, as if it were being polished by sandpaper. His mind overridden by the assault, he let out :
“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t handle it anymore.” Donovan desperately tried to thrust into Cole’s hand.
“Okay, okay,” Cole said. “I’ll be nice to you. You have fifteen seconds to cum, get it?”
Donovan nodded eagerly.
But the strokes slowed down, and Donovan understood it was a trap. He thrusted into Cole’s hand, his double-handed strokes feeling so good. He only had five seconds left, but the strokes were too slow to bring him to the edge. He let out a frustrated grunt.
He was brought to the edge two more times, until Cole sat back and stared at him longingly.
“You’re gorgeous, I’m really glad you’re here.” He leaned forward and kissed him. Donovan, mind hazy, kissed back with his tongue. “I’ll let you cum now. Cum whenever you want, you were good enough. Though still a bit defiant.”
The strokes began again, and Donovan didn’t take long to reach the edge. His shaft throbbed, his urethra widened, and his slit opened up. His cock was crimson red and polished to the point where he could almost see his face in it. Cole focused on it, his foreskin tightly pulled back. His load built up and burned the inside of his dick.
“I’m about to cum, sir. Can I blow my load for you, sir, please?” He said rapidly.
“Yes, you may cum, boy.”
A second after Cole allowed him to, Donovan let out a first satisfying string of cum. But Cole unexpectedly let go of his cock, only keeping the tip of two fingers on his shaft to keep his cock straight. Donovan stared at his manhood with blurred vision and saw long ropes of cum spraying into the air, thick and generous. The lack of strokes forced him to push his load out through labored moans and grunts. The sensation was new. As the last few ropes came out, his cum flowed down on the couch, Donovan let out a frustrated sigh.
He had cum, but he needed more. His erection hadn’t subsided, and his arousal still lingered. He felt cheated, punished for having an orgasm. The need to reach out and stroke himself was strong and his denied pleasure translated into a veiny shaft and a thumping cockhead.
But Cole slapped his hand away when he attempted to move.
“I want to cum again, sir,” He said, slightly angry and distressed.
“You don’t deserve a full orgasm,” Cole explained. “You’ve shown me you aren’t entirely compliant yet. What is it you said to me? Fuck you?” Cole backhanded Donovan’s balls firmly, causing him to grab onto them to relieve the pain. “Your pride is still there; you need to lose it before I allow you a full load.”
“That’s not fair, I did as you asked!” He shouted.
“Because you want to breed me. You did well obeying me, but I need you to consider giving yourself up completely.”
Donovan stayed silent.
“I… I don’t know,” He eventually mumbled.
“You will, sometime in the future. For now, go home,” Cole said. “Oh, and don’t you dare touch yourself without asking.”
Donovan dropped his gaze to the floor.
“It’ll be hard at first,” Cole said, kissing him on the cheek. “But I know what’s best for you. The sooner you realize that, the sooner I can tame you, the faster you get to use your cock for breeding again.”
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