I turn off the kitchen tap and give a final wipe to the sink. That’s the dishes done. I take the apron off, which I’m wearing even though I am naked underneath it and there are no clothes that could get wet, only my chastity cage. I still like the playfulness of this ritual — as does Dan.
He’s on the sofa, wearing headphones and listening to one of his video lectures, staring at the laptop on the coffee table, and only looking down to scribble quick notes on his pad every now and again. Standing behind him, I can’t help but take a peek at the notebook and his neat and thin handwriting. He doesn’t mind me seeing him wearing glasses anymore, though it took a while for him to believe me when I said I find him even hotter when he wears them. I don’t want to bother him, so I quietly make my way to the sofa, sit next to him, with my back on his shoulder and start scrolling through my phone. He doesn’t look at me, but he raises his arm and wraps it around my torso, while I reposition my head to rest on his chest.
I don’t seem to be able to relax, though, and Dan must sense that I keep fidgeting and shifting, even under the strong grip of his arm. He raises one end of his headphones and looks at me.
“Feeling restless today?”
I shrug. “Just a mild case of the Sunday blues, I guess.”
“Come ‘ere,” he says, raising his arm and placing one of the fluffy sofa cushions on the floor between his legs.
I immediately understand the implicit order and slide off the sofa to sit on the cushion. I wrap my arm around his sturdy left leg and lean my head against it. Like a carnivorous plant closing its jaws, Dan moves both his legs inward, pressing on both sides of my body. At the same time, I feel his hand through my hair, massaging my scalp with long and slow movements.
It’s been around six months since our relationship started. Dan will never admit it out loud, but it’s clear that both of us quickly became obsessed with each other, or at least with the dynamic that we so easily fell into. While neither of us have expressed any interest in keeping it a monogamous relationship, so far we have not shown much interest in seeing anyone else. I certainly haven’t, at least. If Dan wanted to fuck somebody else, and he had the stamina to fuck me multiple times a week while still having the energy to find some other hole to please, it would only leave me more impressed. Either way, while aware of the effects of the honeymoon phase, we seem to have found some sort of balance. An agreement that — although carefully negotiated — seems to have come naturally to both of us.
Dan’s fingers tapping on my shoulder bring me back to reality. I turn around. He’s still wearing his headphones, notepad in hand. Seen from below, his torso looks even bigger, making the trapped creature between my legs wake from slumber.
“Feel like worshipping Daddy for a bit, while I finish this?” he asks, in the same tone he would use to request a cup of tea.
I don’t wait for him to repeat himself, flipping around to a kneeling position between his legs and starting to take off his joggers. I hear him chuckle under his breath — or maybe I’ve just imagined it… Force of habit, I guess.
Dan’s cock pops out of this underwear already hard. I grab the shaft and pull the foreskin back, revealing the glistening head. I plant a kiss just below the tip, then another one on the tip itself. A droplet of precum sticks to my lip, which I quickly wipe and savour with my tongue. I take the now very familiar member inside my mouth and close my eyes. I slide it deep into my throat and hold it there.
I can feel Dan’s hand quietly land on the back of my head, the encouragement I need to keep his cock warm inside my throat. I force myself to slow down my breathing and sync it to Dan’s — one of the tricks that he shared with me as part of my strict regimen of cock worshipping. We both can’t seem to get enough of this. I don’t get what Dan gets out of the sense of control he has over me, in the same way he likely doesn’t get how my ability and willingness to give up control makes me so deeply satisfied. When he takes pleasure in face-fucking me while largely ignoring me, I’m not longing for his attention, nor for my release. I feel content in being useful to him, taking pleasure in his enjoyment, and entrusting him with some of my decision-making.
I finally need to catch my breath, so I let the now even thicker shaft slowly slide out of my mouth. Dan doesn’t like when I drool on him — though he does enjoy seeing my face shiny and wet with spit and tears — so I make sure to clean him up each time I deepthroat his cock. He used to have to remind me verbally, but his soft pat-pat on the back of my head now says: “Just like I taught you. Good boy.”
I start sucking Dan’s cock moving my head up and down the shaft with long and relaxed strokes. It’s well lubricated now, and my my lips slide with ease down to the hilt. I enjoy the feeling of his tip tickling my throat — I could keep going for hours, the only thought stopping me being the soreness in my jaw I would have to face tomorrow.
Dan closes his notebook and removes his headphones, sliding them to the other end of the sofa. He grabs my head from both sides, with his palms covering my ears and muffling every sound, including his increasingly louder grunts.
He’s setting the pace for this face-fucking session now — he’s had enough of my slow and lustful sucking. He just wants to shoot down my throat, so we can both relax in the bliss of his orgasm. I let him take control, trying to focus more on relaxing my throat and less on the amounts of saliva and tears flooding my face. My head is bobbing fast, up and down, making beautiful gagging sounds that fill the quiet loft on this Sunday afternoon.
With a final thrust, Dan’s cock lodges itself deep inside my throat as he pushes my face into his pubic area. It would be easy to panic at this point, while unable to breathe, but I know it’s only a moment. Once the ecstasy of the orgasm has subsided, Dan releases his iron grip and his cock slides out of my throat with a big gasp of relief. The first few gulps of air are so satisfying that it feels like I am having my own little climax between his legs. He shot all of his load inside me, so there’s not much to clean beyond my own spit, but I still dutifully lick the softening, plump shaft clean.
“Feeling better?” he asks, ever so slightly flustered, as if he didn’t just shoot ten thick ropes of cum down my throat.
I nod, leaning my head against his hand now caressing my head. Dan’s phone vibrates and he checks it with his free hand. He starts replying to a text.
“Are you still happy to meet up with Lee, so he can drop that stuff off?” he says absentmindedly, still mostly interested in the conversation on this phone.
“Yeah, sure,” I mutter, my mind drifting off as Dan’s hand ruffles my hair.
Done with the text conversation, he chucks his phone to the other end of the sofa.
“Right. I’ve got a task for you,” he says, grabbing the spiral notebook where he was taking notes and ripping out a blank page. “Take this. I want you to fill the page with every kink you can think of. Remember the book we were reading? List them all out and then write ‘Yes,’ ‘No,’ or ‘Maybe’ next to each one. We’ve been feeling our way through up until now, but I think a little structure and creativity could help. What do you think?”
I let Dan’s idea linger for a moment, then I grab the sheet of paper, but he doesn’t let go.
“I want you to hand write them,” he says, looking at me. “Bring the sheet back after your trip.”
“Yes, Sir,” I reply and Dan finally lets go.
The hotel the university booked for me looks clean and modern, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that there’s barely any free floor space. The bed takes up most of the room and my duffel bag probably won’t make it past the little space that’s left near the door. At least the bathroom has a nice shower.
I drop the bag near the door, hang my jacket and start undressing. I fold my clothes and hang them next to my jacket, realising there’s not even closet or chair for them. I open up my bag, taking out a satin pouch holding my chastity cage. I hear my phone ping with a new message from Dan: “Are you there yet?”
I increase the pace, take my underwear off and start working the base ring of the cage around my balls. It’s a smooth operation at this point — in a matter of seconds the cage is back on. I secure the lock and set the key aside. Usually it would go around Dan’s neck, but I’ve been entrusted with it for the duration of the trip, for safety reasons.
I kneel next to my bed, grab my phone and snap a picture of my caged dicklet to immediately send to Dan, captioned “Yes, Sir.”
His reply doesn’t take long: “Good boy. Glad you got there safe.”
I get up, grab the chain holding the key and wear it around my neck. I wish Dan were here.
Another message comes through: “I’m going to request lots of these cage checks while you’re away. You’ll be busy, so I will give you a 1-hour window during working hours to complete them. If you’re late, prepare to be punished. And for every hour of delay, the intensity of the punishment will increase. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you for keeping me accountable.”
“And don’t forget to complete your task. I want that sheet of paper completely filled.”
I don’t know much about Lee. Dan said he’s an old friend and that he wants to return a book he’s borrowed. He shared his contact with me and we agreed to meet at a cafe near my hotel. When I texted Lee, he insisted I didn’t go out of my way to meet him and offered to come to me instead, so I thought the cafe would be a good meeting spot.
I take my tray to a seat at the back of the cafe, balancing a wobbly teacup and a bowl of expensive and yet very grey porridge. I sit down and pull out a pen and the sheet of paper Dan gave me on Sunday. I didn’t want my horniness to cloud my judgement, so I thought an early morning before a whole day of work would do the trick. A stone-cold sober analysis of my kinks, so that I can be as objective as possible.
I start thinking about the things we’ve explored so far. It feels like everything between Dan and I came to us organically, with him sniffing out all the things that make my brain go wild, and me willing to try anything as long as I get to please him. We’ve both shown mutual enjoyment of power exchange. Dan’s assertiveness and willingness to take control away from me when offered has been the basis of our growing sexual dynamic. He’s played many times into our size difference — and adding a cock cage only further emphasised it. My abstinence from orgasms, unless explicitly allowed, played into both the levels of power exchange and in the different privileges that him as a Dom holds over me. Bondage, humiliation, acts of servitude — I seemed to respond well to all of them… What else do I want? What would I want to explore more of?
Some people like pain — their cock and balls tortured, getting their ass spanked, being put in uncomfortable positions, punished when they misbehave. Some like protocols and rules, and Dan likes setting those for me, especially when we are sharing a space.
I take another sip of my tea, still staring at the blank piece of paper. I think about whether how I’d feel about Dan giving me a serious spanking. What about a face slap? Would that be too much to ask of him as a Dom? Sometimes, during one of our more quiet scenes, when I’m just kneeling next to him while he does something else, or he’s hugging me half-asleep with his cock in my ass — there’s a sense of calm, a sense that he can effortlessly hold all the power I give him. And that cannot be an easy thing to do.
I try to shift my thoughts toward a more pragmatic approach to this activity. After all, that’s what I think Dan wants from me. We’ve had our fair share of chats about power exchange and consent, and it’s clear we are both craving more from the dynamic. But what shape will that take? Do I want more impact play? Do I want him to spit on me? A set of rules and protocols to follow every time we meet? How do I feel about piss play?
“Hello—,” somebody says, suddenly breaking my train of thoughts. I instinctively slide the sheet of paper under my tray, even though it’s still completely blank, as if those intimate thoughts could have poured out of my brain directly onto the paper.
A tall, lean man with short, curly hair and a neatly trimmed curly beard stands next to my table. He’s wearing a red flannel shirt and has a paper shopping bag in his right hand.
“H-hi! Hi! Lee — thanks so much for coming all the way here,” I say, getting up.
“Thank you for offering to meet me at all! It’s nice to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you,” he says, holding out his hand for a handshake.
“Good things, I hope,” I smile and shake his hand. His grip is firm and his smile looks genuine. “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
“Oh, no, thanks, I’ve got to dash. Maybe next time... Look, thanks again for taking this off my hands. Tell Dan this doesn’t exempt him from visiting soon. I’m going to drag him down to London one way or the other,” he says jokingly and hands me the bag.
“I’ll make sure to relay the message,” I reply with a smile. The bag is sturdy and the contents feel quite heavy.
“Have a good time in London. See you later, mate!”
He gives me a friendly pat on my upper arm and heads out.
I sit down and peek inside the bag. There’s a catalogue, from a photographic exhibition I have never heard of, and an anonymous, white cardboard box with something inside. It’s quite heavy for its size, but the top is sealed with tape. I assume I’ll get to see the contents once the package reaches its recipient. I take a picture of the bag and send it to Dan.
Within a few seconds, I get a call back.
“Hello?”
“Hi. Is that Lee’s stuff? Thanks for this — I owe you.”
“That’s okay, no worries.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Just finished my breakfast…” I look down at my watch. “It’s early so I might go back up to my room for a bit.”
“Yeah, I think you should go back to your room now, actually, good idea.” I can almost hear his smirk through the phone.
I collect my things and clear my tray, then start to make my way back to my room. So much for a stone-cold sober morning — I am getting hornier with every step.
“When you get to your room, I want you to take all your clothes off. Take a picture of your cage and send it to me. I hope you put it on this morning, or there will be consequences.”
“I did,” I reply, while I walk past the hotel lobby.
“Good, because there won’t be time to put it on now. As soon as I hear your room door close, you’ve got 15 seconds to send the picture.”
Every sentence makes my heart beat a little faster. I get to my room and put the phone on speaker. I start taking my clothes off, while Dan counts out loud in the background. 8 seconds have gone, when I am finally able to kneel and snap a picture. Send.
“Good boy!” he says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I suppose you should get a reward for following instructions so well… Get on the bed. Start fingering yourself. No lube, just spit.”
“Yes, Sir,” I reply, following his orders without question.
I stick my index and middle finger in my mouth, coating them generously with saliva, and I start fingering as instructed.
“How does it feel, boy?”
I moan in response. “It feels amazing, Sir. Thank you for being so generous, Sir.”
“Good. I like when my boy feels good. I just wish he was here so I could fill his hole properly, instead of having to wank thinking about it. But I guess the moans will have to do for now.”
The image of Dan wanking on the other side of the phone call makes me moan even louder.
“Now, now. Take a deep breath. You know you’re not allowed to cum without permission while you’re away. I want you to press on that prostate, but if I hear you cum, you are going to regret it when you’re back.”
“Yes, Sir, understood,” I moan, almost forgetting for a moment that I am in a hotel room, where others could hear me.
Dan’s grunts keep building, while my fingers keep sliding in and out of my hole.
“Are you dripping yet, slut?” he says.
I check the state of my cage and the tip is indeed covered in sticky precum already.
“Lick it all off,” he orders.
I loudly stick my wet fingers in my mouth, making loud sucking sounds, wishing it were his cock, his precum I was sucking on.
Dan goes quiet for a second, the only sound I can hear is his hand sliding up and down his shaft, faster and faster. With a loud, almost frustrated, grunt, Dan finally reaches his climax. I picture his muscles tense, his sweat covering his forehand. And his cum. His cum flowing out of him, warm and thick, wishing I was there to clean him off, to take it inside of me in any way that pleases him.
“Are you still fingering yourself, boy?” he says, after a few seconds of catching his breath.
“Yes, I am, Sir.” My voice comes out a little unsure.
“Good boy. You can stop now. We’ve both had enough pleasure for today. I just need to keep your hole stretched for when you come back. I am going to need to fuck it longer than usual after such a long break. Now get dressed and get on with your day. I have to do the same.”
END OF CHAPTER 13
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