The Point of No Return
After spending the night with Daniel, Nick is sent home with Daniel’s words ringing in his ears: “Sex with me is a privilege you must continue to earn.”
The ride home was a fog—confused, raw, and burning with unsatisfied desire.
When he finally got to his apartment, his phone buzzed.
You did well, little man. You have the heart to serve—and more importantly, the heart to serve me. Tonight was just the beginning. Rest up. We have a big week ahead of us. —Daniel
Nick read it three times, heart thundering.
He sat on the edge of his bed, still fully clothed, hard, and aching—but proud.
Daniel hadn’t rejected him. He was teaching him. Training him.
And Nick wanted nothing more than to learn.
***
The week unfolded with dizzying speed. After the raw intensity of the weekend, Monday morning brought Nick crashing back into the reality of office life—early meetings, long creative huddles, and the mounting pressure of Thursday’s high-stakes new business pitch.
The pitch was for a major national brand—one of those account wins that could define a year, or even a career. Daniel, of course, was leading the presentation. But somehow, Nick had been pulled into the inner circle—a junior executive with barely a month at the agency, suddenly contributing to one of its most important efforts.
It started unremarkably. Nick had noticed a disconnect between the messaging for the campaign they were proposing and what the research he’d reviewed indicated the target audience really wanted. He mentioned it quietly in a strategy meeting, offering a revised framework rooted in emotional storytelling and simplicity. Daniel had barely looked at him when he said it—but the next day, the presentation deck was revised. Nick’s language had been lifted almost verbatim, and the agency's recommended campaign had been significantly altered.
On Tuesday afternoon, between meetings, he pulled Nick into a side hallway and shut the door behind them. The room was dark, small, and empty—just enough space for clarity.
“Nick,” he said calmly, “you need to understand something.”
Nick straightened, trying to keep up.
“In here—at the agency—you speak up. You challenge ideas. You take initiative. You perform.” Daniel’s gaze was steady. “Out there, in our world… yes, you submit. But don’t confuse the two. I don’t need a pet here. I need a partner.”
Nick’s breath caught. “Yes, sir. Understood.”
Daniel stepped closer, not touching him, but near enough to command. “In work, you are a lion. Outside of work, you are mine.”
By Thursday, the entire agency was buzzing. The pitch was set for noon. Daniel, of course, in full command mode. He was magnetic, crisp in a navy suit, every gesture exuding confidence. The deck cycled through its opening frames, Nick’s heart hammering, as his insights came to life on the screen. Most knew how much of it was his, Daniel more than most.
And that was enough.
They nailed the presentation.
Friday morning, the email hit inboxes before 9AM.
Subject: We Got It.
The client had chosen Bishop & King. It was a huge win. The agency erupted. Champagne popped, execs high-fived, Slack lit up like Times Square.
A few minutes later, Nick’s inbox pinged again; he was on the distribution list along with several others who had worked on the presentation.
From: Daniel King
Subject: Tonight
Dinner and drinks. 7PM. The Mansion.
You’re invited. You earned it.
Nick reread it, chest swelling. He’d made it. His work had helped seal a national deal. He was on Daniel’s radar—for more than just obedience.
Then, seconds later, another text buzzed on his phone from Daniel.
From: Daniel
You’re spending the weekend with me. Don’t pack a bag, I have everything you’ll need.
Nick’s throat tightened. There it was—the shift. From lion to leash. From the boardroom to the bedroom.
His reply came fast, without thought.
Nick:
Yes, sir.
He stared at the screen, adrenaline flooding every inch of him.
This was it.
The reward.
The continuation.
The next lesson.
Friday dragged; all day long he longed to see Daniel, even just catch a glimpse of him, from behind, or down the hallway, or hear his voice, or even hear someone mention his name. He was sitting on a seismic secret that made him beam with pride, but it killed him that to share it would be the betrayal of a lifetime.
The office was quieting down as Nick wrapped up at his desk. Sensing a presence in his door, he looked up to find Daniel, quietly stepping into his office and closing the door behind him. “I’m wearing my CEO hat now and I want you to know how proud I am of you. Your insights changed this presentation…you may have singularly won us this business. I’m sure you understand why I can’t be this effusive at dinner tonight, but I want you to know that I know. You’re part of the story now.”
Daniel abruptly turned around and left, leaving Nick stunned.
At 6:00 PM sharp, he arrived at the restaurant for the party.
He slipped in quietly, acutely aware of his junior status and careful not to draw attention. They were all older. Seasoned. He knew he didn’t fully belong—not yet. He kept to the edges of the group, smiling, nodding, offering the occasional quiet congratulations. He was good at humility. He wore it like armor.
The celebratory roar only deepened when Daniel arrived.
It was palpable. Not just a senior leader walking in—but the man. Their leader.
As the group surged toward him, clapping and toasting, Nick stayed put—back by the far corner of the bar, sipping his drink, heart racing.
Daniel’s eyes found him immediately.
Through the throng of coworkers and backslaps, Daniel’s gaze cut clean and sharp toward the edge of the room. They locked eyes for a split second—no nod, no smile. Just the briefest flicker of recognition. Of acknowledgment. Of what was coming. Of the unknown.
Nick’s stomach tightened. This was real.
Toasts began as they were seated around a long table toward the back. Daniel’s toast came last.
He stood, glass in hand, voice calm but electric.
“This win belongs to all of us,” he said. “To discipline. To excellence. To support.” He let the word linger. “Because behind every moment of brilliance is someone who carried the weight. Quietly. Diligently. Submissively, even. That’s what real teamwork looks like.”
The group nodded, clapped, laughed.
But Nick knew exactly who the message was for.
He wasn’t even sure if Daniel realized Donald had glanced toward him during the toast. Just a flicker of suspicion. A tiny knot tightening.
Out of habit, Nick checked his phone. There was a message waiting. Sent nearly an hour ago.
Daniel:
House Rules for tonight and beyond:
1. Whenever you enter my home, you will shower immediately. You clean yourself—inside and out. You will be inspected.
2. In my home, you will wear only a jockstrap, nothing else.
3. No may NEVER cum without my permission, inside my home or out. Severe punishment if you do.
4. I may choose to share you with trusted friends. You will willingly comply.
5. Corporal punishment will be part of your training—sometimes corrective, sometimes indulgent. You will find it rewarding.
6. You may withdraw from this engagement at any time. Your role at Bishop & King will not be affected.
The code to the door is 2644. Tonight’s jockstrap is waiting for you. Be clean and face down on my bed by 10PM. Ready. Your presence in my bed tonight will acknowledge your acceptance to these House Rules.
Nick stared at it, fingers trembling, blood pounding in his ears.
This wasn’t just another evening.
It was real. It was a contract.
Nick studied each one. Some were a fantasy come true, like wearing nothing but a jock at all times.
But others….being shared with others and corporal punishment made him flinch. Was he getting in over his head? Could he endure what Daniel had in mind?
However, Rule #6, the ability to withdraw anytime, put his mind at rest. He may never have this opportunity again, if he didn’t seize this one. He was all in.
He slipped away from the table not long after the desserts were being finished. No one seemed surprised—he was, after all, the youngest.
Except Daniel watched him go. Not with a nod, not with a glance. Just with the faintest twitch of one corner of his mouth. Daniel was expertly stealth about his feelings for Nick.
By 9:30, he was standing outside Daniel’s home.
The code worked. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
The house was dimly lit—warm, hushed. No sound. No sign of Daniel.
Nick didn’t hesitate. He was vibrating with adrenaline as he walked through the quiet living room, up the polished staircase, and into the bedroom. The jockstrap was laid neatly at the edge of the bed. Old-school. Worn. Like the ones he used to wear on the field. But freshly laundered. Daniel like things clean.
He stripped quickly. Then bolted to the bathroom. Showered. Cleaned inside and out. Every inch. Inside and out. The same ritual, the same intensity. And this time, with a trembling kind of joy.
By 10:00, he was on the bed—jockstrap on, face down, legs slightly parted. Ass in the air begging to be used. Offered.
The house was silent.
He waited.
And waited.
His heart thudded harder with each passing minute. His cock stiffened inside the pouch, pressed into the soft bedding. He could feel his own pre-cum leaking. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
10:15. Nothing.
More vague noises, more potential car door slams, more interior creaks suggesting movement. He could feel his heart beat in his throat.
10:30. Still nothing.
Nick was shaking. Not from fear—but from the tension between what was promised and what was withheld. The bedspread beneath him was warm with his body heat. His arms ached from holding the same position. He could see himself from above, splayed out, waiting to be used. It only made him want it more. He was in danger of humping the bedspread and cumming before Daniel even arrived.
10:45. Still nothing. But that was the last time he looked at the clock. He must’ve dozed off because the quiet creak of the bedroom door opening woke him from a shallow sleep. He admonished himself for falling asleep; he’d missed seconds, maybe minutes in Daniel’s presence.
So quiet.
Nick didn’t turn, didn’t flinch. But he felt it. The presence. The shadow of Daniel as he entered, slow and deliberate. As if inspecting a sculpture in his private collection.
Still silent, Daniel crossed the room. Nick heard the bathroom door shut, the shower turn on, water on tile, then off. The sound of movement. Towel drying. Footsteps again. And finally the bathroom door re-opening.
It was as Daniel had evaporated into the ether. Nick strained but couldn’t get a sense of where he was or what he was doing.
Nick’s body seized with hunger.
He was ready.
He’d never been more ready in his life.
Nick laid obediently in the center of the bed, the straps of his jockstrap framing his athletic ass perfectly, lit by a single lamp that threw golden shadows across the walls. The sheets beneath him were cool, the silence deafening.
From somewhere behind him, Daniel’s emerged; his slow footsteps crossed the hardwood floor. Measured. Deliberate. Like a predator taking his time.
Nick’s skin prickled.
Daniel’s first actual touch was when he took hold of each of Nick’s ankle and gently pulled his legs apart, widening him, demanding more. His body reacted before his mind could catch up—his ass lifting slightly, back arching, breath coming shallower. He was opening himself. Not just physically, but completely. Surrendering.
There was a long pause, and then—warmth.
Daniel climbed onto the bed between his legs, hands pushing Nick’s inner thighs even further apart. And then the first sensation: a hot breath, slow and steady, ghosting over his exposed hole.
Nick shuddered.
He clenched, instinctively—but Daniel laid a hand flat on his lower back.
“Don’t flinch,” Daniel said, voice low and calm. “Let me see it.”
Nick inhaled, forcing himself to be still and arched his back even more. He felt the breath again—closer this time, intentional. Then, after a beat that felt like an eternity, he felt the first delicate lick. Just the tip of Daniel’s tongue, barely grazing the outer ring.
Nick gasped, hips jolting slightly. But Daniel’s hand pressed him back down.
“You don’t move unless I say,” he murmured.
“Yes, Sir,” Nick panted.
The licking continued, soft and exploratory at first—just teasing swirls that made Nick’s spine tremble. But soon it changed. Daniel’s tongue grew firmer, more focused. He licked in slow, wide strokes, then quick flicks. Then, unexpectedly, he pushed in.
Nick’s cry filled the room.
It wasn’t pain—just an overwhelming, unimaginable sensation. A penetration of trust. Of power. Daniel’s tongue slid in and out of him with practiced ease, wet and hot and impossibly invasive. And Nick—helpless, shivering—wanted more.
“Do you feel that?” Daniel growled, breaking his silence. “That’s the feeling of submission.”
Nick groaned, desperate. His cock throbbed untouched beneath him, dripping into his jockstrap. But all his attention was behind him—on the mouth using him.
Daniel paused only long enough to spit—once, thickly—and spread it with his tongue, sloppier now, filthier. Occasionally, his tongue penetrated him just enough to make him welp. Then Daniel inserted a thumb between his cheeks and began circling his hole slowly while licking. Daneil methodically took turns penetrating Nick’s hole with his tongue, then thumb, then tongue, then thumb…until Nick was nearly screaming with passion
“You like that?” Daniel asked.
Nick couldn’t find his voice. He nodded frantically, fingers gripping the sheets.
“I said—do you like that?” he asked louder.
“Yes, Sir! Oh my god, yes, Sir!”
“Then say it. Say what you are.”
Nick choked on the words, but they came.
“I’m yours, Sir. Your boy. Your hole. Your property.”
Daniel pulled his tongue away, and for a second Nick panicked that he’d gone too far. But then Daniel climbed up his body slowly—nude, hard, imposing. He leaned over Nick’s back, cock pressing along the curve of his spine, voice at his ear.
“That’s right,” Daniel whispered. “You’re nothing without permission. You’re mine. Every inch. Every thought. Every filthy, aching need.”
Nick whimpered, desperate to be fucked, but he knew better than to ask. Daniel wasn’t here to fulfill his needs.
“You want my cock?” Daniel whispered.
Nick’s entire body tensed. “More than anything, Sir. Please.”
“You don’t deserve it yet, followed by a hard slap across his ass. Forceful enough to convey that Nick wasn’t yet worthy, and just enough to make him gasp. “You haven’t earned the right to be fucked.”
Nick moaned, shaking from the undeniable pleasure emanating from his stinging ass. “Please… I’ll do anything.”
“I know you will.” Daniel let go and leaned down once more, spreading Nick even wider with both hands and licking him open like it was worship. Like it was revenge. Like it was his divine right.
Nick nearly sobbed from the intensity.
“You crave this, don’t you?” Daniel said, tongue circling his slick, twitching hole. “More than pleasure. More than release. You crave surrender.”
“Yes, Sir,” Nick choked out. “I want you to use me. I need you to.”
Daniel stood up behind him, his cock massive and glistening, looming just inches from Nick’s begging hole. He stroked it slowly, letting Nick hear the wet sound of precum and spit, letting him see the thing he wouldn’t be getting—yet.
“You’ll take this when I say,” Daniel said. “And not before. Do you understand?”
Nick nodded, trembling. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re a good boy,” Daniel said. “But good boys still need training.”
And just like that, Daniel pressed two spit-slick fingers back into Nick’s ass—slow, deep, firm. This time with no gentleness. This was instruction. This was a warning.
And Nick loved it.
As Daniel fucked him with his fingers, Nick collapsed forward onto the bed, breathless, wrecked, and overwhelmed by the singular thought:
This is what I was made for.
Nick's body trembled beneath Daniel’s touch, slick with sweat and humming with a sensation he couldn’t name. His legs were still spread from where Daniel had positioned him, used him, pushed him to the edge of something terrifying and sacred. The heat still radiated from within, from the place where Daniel’s fingers had opened him, tested him—claimed him. Nick was panting, overwhelmed and dizzy, but more than anything, he was ready.
He didn’t need to be told what was coming next. He could feel it in the pause. In the way Daniel’s hand lingered on his lower back. In the way the silence seemed to pulse with anticipation.
Then he heard it.
A breath.
The low, controlled exhale of a man about to take what he had been waiting for.
Daniel shifted behind him, the bed creaking quietly beneath their weight.
“You know what this means,” Daniel said, voice low, thick. “This is the point of no return.”
Nick’s throat was dry, but his answer was immediate.
“I know, Sir.”
“You’re ready to be mine,” Daniel murmured, leaning in so close that Nick could feel his breath brush across the back of his neck. “Not just in words. In body. In truth.”
Nick’s heart thundered. “Yes, sir.”
A pause.
Then he felt it. The blunt, unmistakable pressure of Daniel against him, penetrating him—intentional, possessive, demanding. Just the tip, barely there, a whisper of contact—but life-changing nonetheless. Nick’s entire body tensed up and shivered. Not in fear, but in disbelief. It felt like electricity. Like destiny.
Daniel didn’t move. He let Nick feel it. Let him absorb the meaning of it.
“You feel that?” Daniel asked, his voice almost mocking in its control. “That’s me. Only me. From now on.”
Nick whimpered—part desperation, part awe.
“You want this?” Daniel asked.
“Yes,” Nick whispered. “Please…”
“Say it.”
“I want to be yours, Sir. I want to be taken.”
Daniel growled low in his throat—a sound of satisfaction and command. Then, with slow, impossible patience, he pressed forward, just an inch. Nick gasped, breath catching as the pressure mounted, not from pain, but from the exquisite knowledge that he was being filled—owned.
“That's it,” Daniel muttered. “You feel that stretch? That ache? That’s me carving myself into you.”
Another inch. Nick’s fingers gripped the sheets.
Daniel paused again. Not to spare him, but to teach him—about control. About surrender. About what it meant to be opened not just physically, but psychologically.
Nick didn’t know how long it went on—this slow claiming. His senses were overwhelmed so completely that time ceased to mean anything. He only knew that each breath he took seemed to belong more to Daniel than to himself. Each inch filled him with something beyond sensation. It was identity. It was purpose.
By the time Daniel was fully inside, Nick could hardly breathe.
“You’re mine now,” Daniel whispered, one hand gripping his hip like a brand. “You’ll never be the same.”
Nick couldn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His body said everything.
“You’ve dreamed of this,” Daniel said quietly, circling him. “Not just the act. The moment. The giving. The trust.”
Nick’s throat tightened. “Yes, Sir.”
“I know you have. And I’ve dreamed of this too, Nick. Of what it means to finally take what I’ve studied. What I’ve cultivated. What I’ve chosen.”
“You haven’t been seduced,” Daniel continued. “You’ve been claimed. You know that, don’t you?”
“I do,” Nick whispered.
Daniel began to move. Slowly. Deeply. The rhythm was patient but commanding. Not an act of lust, but of domination. Of confirmation. He spoke to Nick with each thrust—not just in words, but in presence, in dominance, in the unrelenting reminder that Nick no longer belonged to himself.
And then, suddenly, Daniel shifted—angled—and Nick screamed.
He didn’t mean to. It was involuntary. Pure, unfiltered reaction to the sensation of something inside him lighting up. A place he hadn’t known existed now exploded with pleasure.
Daniel chuckled darkly, pulled Nick’s head back by his hair and growled into his ear, “Found it.”
Nick shook beneath him, unable to process what he was feeling. The roughness of having his head pulled back by the hair was like a porn scene, loving what it represented. Surrender.
But nothing he had done, nothing he had imagined—not the fingers, not the fantasies—had prepared him for this. For the loss of control. For the raw, beautiful helplessness of being owned in the deepest way possible. Electricity pulsed through his body. It felt like he was about to have the most intense orgasm of his lifetime, but not just his cock…his entire body. The sensation was unfathomable.
Still pounding him and holding him by the hair, Daniel’s lips grazed Nick’s ear. “Do you remember House Rule #3?”
Nick was in such a state he could barely think, but he knew he owed Daniel an answer. The house rules were a nothing but a jumble of words at this moment, but given how close to orgasm he was, it hit him like a rock. He could only speak in cadence with the pummeling he was enduring but he was able to croak out with every thrust…“Yes. Sir. No. Cumming. Without. Your. Permission.
“Good job, boy. Are you getting close?”
“Yes, Sir..” and nearly weeping he added, “…but I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Don’t worry boy, I know you better than you know yourself. I’ll know when you get there, and you’ve got a ways to go”. And with that, he adjusted slightly and hit Nick’s magic spot again, but this time rubbed the tip of his cock over and around it repeatedly.
“OH MY GOD!!!” Nick screamed. The pleasure was reaching near painful levels. He didn’t know the two could be so closely related. “Please Sir, please, I can’t take it!!!
Daniel sneered, “Only I can do this to you,” he said as he pulled back slightly, giving Daniel a moment to catch his breath. Daniel enjoyed the verbal sparring as much as the sex itself. “Only I know how to make you feel like this.”
Nick nodded frantically, eyes closed, heart racing.
“Say it.”
“You own me,” Nick breathed. “Please… don’t stop. Please fill me…with your cum, Sir.”
Daniel didn’t.
But for what felt like an eternity, he kept Nick on the edge—changing angles, shifting pace, drawing out every whimper, every gasp, every whispered plea to stop, to keep going. And somewhere in the haze, Nick realized Daniel wasn’t just using him.
He was giving to him. Showing him the truth of himself. Of what he had always needed.
Without warning, Daniel gave one last slow thrust and withdrew. Nick collapsed onto the sheets, muscles shaking, mind undone. He was gone. Sweat drenched. Broken open. Reborn.
But Daniel still wasn’t done. Nowhere near.
