It’s exactly 5:55pm when the timer on my phone goes off. I turn it off and check on the roast in the oven. It looks good. I switch off the oven and hob, leaving everything as is, so it stays warm. I take my apron off and head towards the entrance, kneeling just before the shoe rack. I lower my head and place my hands on my thighs, making sure they are spread apart. While I do love when Dan uses his foot to force them open, I much prefer being called a good boy.
It’s not long before I hear the front door of the building slam shut. He’s right on time. I keep looking down while the keys jingle and the door opens. Dan comes in, closes the door to the flat behind him and ruffles my hair without saying a word. Then he taps his foot once, making me jump into action. I start untying his shoes, while he empties his pockets, placing keys and wallet on the hallway table.
I take the first shoe off, place it to the side and lean down so I can kiss the top of his foot.
“Good boy,” he whispers.
I get started on the other one, working swiftly, but with care, making sure the laces don’t get tangled or dirty under the sole of the shoe. I lean over for another kiss, then go back to my initial kneeling position.
Dan raises his right foot and places it between my legs, teasing my cage with his toes. I whimper softly and he chuckles in return. The torture quickly ends and he steps forward, placing his arms around me and pulling me closer. I melt into his lower belly, hugging him back.
“Did you have a good day?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Thank you for making dinner.”
“It’s my pleasure, Sir.”
I look up tentatively, even though I know I’ve not been explicitly told to do that. Dan smiles and leans down to kiss me.
“Come on, I need the toilet,” he says, patting my back.
He starts walking to the bathroom and I start getting up, waiting for further instructions.
“I didn’t say you could stand,” he says. He takes his T-shirt off and tosses it in my direction. “Follow me.”
Unsure of what to do, since I’m categorically not allowed to stand, I put the T-shirt in my mouth and crawl after Dan on all fours. Just before stepping into the bathroom, he stops to take his trousers off, leaving them on the floor for me to pick up.
“Laundry basket,” he snaps.
I grab his clothes and clumsily make my way to the laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom, while he lifts the toilet lid and starts pissing. The clean freak he is, I bet this is all part of his Dom persona, and that he would normally sit down like me. But this way I get to steal a quick look at the hot stream of piss coming out of his thick cock, so I’m not complaining.
When he’s done, he closes the lid, flushes and turns towards me. Like a dog being trained to wait before lunging on his treat, Dan lets me stare at his inviting and growing cock, just millimetres away from my face. Then he reaches down to his boxers and pulls them up. The last thing I see – before he moves away – is his shaft twitching as he starts to get hard. After he’s washed his hands, he heads back to the living room and I follow, still on all fours.
He is just settling in on the sofa when I clumsily catch up with him.
“Is that for me?” he asks, pointing at the glass of water on the coffee table.
“Yes, Sir, as you requested,” I reply, going back to kneeling, looking down.
“Good boy,” he says, taking the glass and downing a big gulp before setting it back down.
He leans over and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, inviting me to move between his legs. He brushes his fingers through my hair for a few minutes, as I lean on his inner thigh, closing my eyes and finally relaxing a bit.
“So let’s see what we’ve got.”
Dan leans over to reach the items on the coffee table – a sheet of paper folded in half and the bag that Lee wanted me to return. I am dead curious to know what’s in the bag, but Dan picks up the sheet first. He starts reading it, letting out the occasional grunt of acknowledgement and a “Yeah, we’ve got that one down,” here and there.
After a few minutes, I raise my head and look at him expectantly. He folds the sheet again and smiles at me.
“Objectification, hmm?”
I nod eagerly.
“Domestic servitude… Humiliation… Tasks and corporal punishments. It looks like we’ve got quite a lot to explore, huh? How does it feel to have it all down on black and white?”
I take a moment to think. “Good…? A little scary? I’m worried some of the things I listed as a ‘Maybe’ I definitely won’t like.”
“Well, that’s the point. We need to find out.”
He bends down with a smile and kisses me gently. “Look,” he says with his hand under my chin, “I will go through the list and add my ‘Yes,’ ‘No,’ and ‘Maybe’ against yours. I might add a few more to see how you feel about them and you’ll do the same, until we are both satisfied with the list and don’t want to add anything else. How does that sound?”
“Very sensible, Sir,” I say with a reassuring smile.
“Good boy! Now let’s see what other goodies you brought me.”
He grabs the bag from the coffee table and moves it next to him on the sofa. He fishes out the white box that takes up most of the space in the bag and handles it carefully, given the considerable weight. He peels back the piece of tape that seals the top, and grabs the item inside. A shiny and bright red ceramic statue comes out. The subject seems abstract, maybe two (or more?) bodies entwined in some sort of… dance? Embrace? Sexual act?
Dan looks at it from all sides, then carefully places it on top of the coffee table.
“Nice, eh? I’ll have to find a good place for it,” he says, looking around his flat.
“It’s a beautiful piece!”
“Yeah, Lee’s very talented,” he replies.
“He made it?”
“Oh, yes. I remember when he sent me photos of his first few pottery monsters years ago. Who would have thought the guy would become decent at it?”
“Impressive…” I mumble, scooting closer to the table to admire it.
Dan interrupts my train of thought by nudging my arm with a book. It’s an exhibition catalogue – I don’t know nearly enough about sculpture to gather any specific information from the cover, but the yellowed pages and worn-out corners suggest it’s an old and well-loved book.
“Put this away, please.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I pick up the book and get up to add it to the newly organised bookshelf, but a postcard falls out as I do, so I stop to pick it up.
“This was inside—,” I tell Dan, handing over the postcard. It’s a promotional postcard advertising an upcoming exhibition with a collection of works by Lee J. Davidson. I suddenly retract my hand to get a closer look.
“Excuse me…?” I can hear Dan say in the background, but my brain is busy trying to remember something.
“Lee J. Davidson? As in, L. J. Davidson? As in…”
I rush to the bookshelf and look for Dan’s collection of photography books. The book with Dan’s nude portrait was an exciting discovery I made several weeks ago, but Dan didn’t seem particularly inclined to share more so I quickly forgot about it.
“Lee took these?” I ask excitedly, waving the book of black-and-white nude portraits.
Dan nods, with an annoyed look on his face. I can sense that his playful frustration is close to turning into real frustration.
“You know, I don’t remember seeing ‘being a brat’ on your list of kinks,” Dan remarks.
I put the book back and kneel back down next to him, handing him the postcard. “Sorry, I got excited.”
Dan breathes in, closes his eyes, and then lets out a big sigh.
“It’s okay, I’m the one who’s being a little silly about this.” He takes a moment to read the postcard. “Lee’s inviting us to the exhibition opening.”
“Us?”
“Yes, I’ve… told him about you. That we are seeing each other, I mean. That’s all.”
“That’s great!” I reply. And, after a moment of silence, I add: “I would love to go, if it pleases you, Sir.”
I feel slightly conflicted about jumping in and out of my submissive persona like this.
Dan seems to pick up on this, almost reading my mind. He smiles and tousles my hair, then he says: “It’s okay, boy, we are going to figure out how to manage our roles properly and what feels good for both of us…” He pauses. “Lee’s an old friend. And a really tenacious artist. I think you two would get on. Is there anything you’re curious about?”
“Where did you two meet? I promise this is not jealousy talking, I’m genuinely curious.”
“It was here, in town. Lee is one of the first few people who managed to get me involved in the queer scene around here. Inevitably, he moved to London after a few years to pursue better artistic opportunities. That’s around the time he somehow convinced me to take that picture. There was never anything serious between us… Well – we were never in a romantic relationship. He’s more of a mentor… and a good friend.”
“He sounds great! Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“That’s okay. Thank you for listening.”
“I’m sorry I acted out of character just now.”
“Even good boys get to be naughty sometimes. It’s up to their Master to decide what to do with their insolence,” Dan says, back to his usual smirk.
“You know, I keep thinking about it. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be sometimes – your sub? Your partner? My independent self? Sometimes I wonder if our relationship is just a long scene that we both freely come in and out of.”
“I don’t think you’re alone in that, buddy. I think we could both benefit from more clarity about our dynamic. The kink list is a good start, but I want us to take some time to discuss this and have a proper check-in. For now, I don’t want you to worry about rules we haven’t set. You’re not my 24/7 live-in slave.”
“It’s nice to fantasise about it, though.”
“Oh, believe me, I know!” Dan says, grabbing his crotch. “Let’s keep those feelings in mind during our check-in. We might be able to find a compromise between fantasy and reality.”
I nod.
“Still, I think there’s a good lesson to learn from your moment of insolence.”
“What’s that?”
“How to take a good spanking.”
A devilish grin crosses my face.
“Come on, boy, get on all fours over my lap.”
He doesn’t need to repeat himself – within seconds, I have crawled onto the sofa and I am arching my back, ass cheeks in the air.
“Alright, boy, listen up. I want you to memorise these instructions.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Every time I slap your ass, I want you to count out loud and follow it up with ‘Thank you, Master.’”
Dan smacks my left cheek with the palm of his hand.
“One. Thank you, Master.”
“Great. Don’t lose count or I’ll make you start over. I want to gauge your pain threshold, so when I say ‘traffic light,’ you’ll reply ‘green,’ ‘yellow,’ or ‘red.’ With green we’ll keep going; yellow we’ll readjust or take a quick break; with red we’ll pause. Is that clear?”
“Yes, S—”
Dan’s second smack lands on my right cheek, a lot more firmly than the first one.
“Two. Thank you, Master.”
Another slap, same intensity.
“Three. Thank you, Master.”
“Traffic light?”
“Green.”
“Good boy. Oh, I can’t wait to make these cheeks glow red.” As he says that, he flicks my cage with his finger, making it jiggle back and forth. I can feel blood flowing to my groin.
An even louder slap. This one makes me wince.
“Four. Thank you, Master.”
Dan follows it up with three slaps of the same intensity in quick succession.
“Five. Thank you, Master. Six. Thank you, Master. Seven. Thank you, Master.”
The blows are starting to sting. I feel the immediate urge to rub my ass, but all I can do is move my hips left and right, silently begging for Dan to provide some relief.
No luck. Three more slaps land on my ass cheeks and this time I let out a whimper, but follow it up with my newly established mantra.
“Traffic light?”
“Green.”
“Good boy. How many more do you think you can take at this intensity?”
The question takes me slightly by surprise. If my ass is stinging this badly from just ten slaps, how many more can I realistically take?
“Ten more, Sir?”
“You don’t sound so sure, boy.”
“May I have ten more, please, Sir?”
“That’s better! Here’s what we are going to do. We are going to take a little break and you are going to suck me off until I’m right on the edge. Then you are going to take ten more for me. Okay?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Now scoot back and suck Daddy’s cock.”
I do as I’m told and I can already see Dan’s cock about to burst through the front opening of his boxers. I dive down and lick the exposed skin, down to the tip, which is still inside Dan’s underwear. I can smell a faint scent of piss from earlier and general musk from the work day. I lick eagerly all down the shaft and the tip through the fabric of the boxers.
Once the boxers are sufficiently soaked in my spit, I reach down to take Dan’s cock and balls out of the boxers. His cock springs out and I catch it in my mouth, causing Dan to throw his head back with a loud moan.
I get into a rhythm of sucking, licking, choking on his cock and teasing his balls, sometimes with my hand, sometimes with my mouth. I can feel him holding back his orgasm, enjoying his blowjob with little thought given to my aching jaw or straining thighs. He is taking the pleasure he needs and I feel happy, useful, and proud to be giving it to him.
Dan suddenly puts a hand on my forehead and pushes me away from his pulsing red cock.
“Back on all fours over my lap, boy.”
“Yes, Sir!”
The following ten blows are given with relentless consistency. Even though the intensity is the same, however, my skin gets more sensitive with each hit. Being told to count almost felt like a humiliating silly task earlier. Now, it’s both a genuine challenge and the only thing keeping me grounded to reality.
The final blow makes me flinch. I open my mouth, but have to collect myself before I can say: “Twenty. Thank you, Master.”
“Traffic light?”
I pause. “G-green, Sir.”
“Hey. Look at me. When I ask for ‘traffic light,’ I don’t want you to say ‘green’ if that’s not where you are at. I trust you enough to tell me the truth and know that if you are not I may end up hurting you. And that would not be hot for either of us. So. Traffic light?”
Our eyes are locked with each other’s. I feel a deep sense of trust for this man, who is willing to guide me through this journey of pain and pleasure.
“Green, Sir,” I confirm.
Dan’s serious look softens into a smile. “Great. You will take five more for me, then.”
“Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!”
A strong blow, stronger than the previous ones, lands on my left cheek, close to the back of my thigh. “Twenty-one. Thank you, Master.”
Smack! An identical one lands on my right butt cheek. “Twenty-two. Thank you, Master.”
Despite the stinging pain, my conviction seems to have grown stronger. I imagine the imprint of Dan’s hand on my ass with every blow.
“Twenty-three. Thank you, Master.”
“Twenty-four. Thank you, Master.”
The pain is turning into waves of heat spreading through my body when Dan lands the final blow on my ass. I swear that if I looked in the mirror now, my cheeks would be glowing as bright as an incandescent light bulb.
It takes all my energy to say: “Twenty-five. Thank you, Master.”
“Good boy,” Dan says, finally rubbing my cheeks to soothe the pain and comfort my sore nerve endings. He lifts my torso up as he invites me to straddle him.
“You did well, boy. I am proud of you,” he whispers in my ear. I hug him tight, trying to release some of the pulsing heat that is radiating from my ass. I go in for a kiss and Dan kisses me back with a loud grunt.
We are both breathing heavily, communicating through our bodies, rather than through words. I can feel Dan’s familiar thrusting rhythm making us both move up and down, his cock rubbing against my abdomen.
“Get down. Ass up,” he moans.
I jump off the sofa and plant my face on the floor, kneeling away from him, offering my ass, red and sore, to Dan. The sight is enough to push him over the edge — it only takes a second before I feel warm spurts of cum cover my ass. Dan’s sperm starts trickling down my thighs and my back, all the way down to my neck. Looking between my legs, I can see the final strands of cum pooling on the floor, while my cage dangles unused, a solitary droplet of precum about to land on the wooden floor.
“Good boy,” Dan says, starting to massage both my cheeks, using his cum as a natural soothing balm. It stings a little initially, but as he kneads my glutes, I relax the rest of my body, closing my eyes and letting my legs open a little wider.
“Up, up, boy, come on,” Dan says after a few minutes, taking me out of my trance state.
He helps me up and I turn around to melt in his embrace.
“I have good news and bad news for you,” he says. “I’m afraid my pathetic little sub doesn’t get to come today. However, you do get to clean up this big mess!”
I look down at the shiny floor, covered in cum, and then back at him. “Thank you, Sir,” I whisper.
END OF CHAPTER 14
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
