Eight ~ David
Perhaps.
I’d said perhaps.
What kind of a fucking moron was I? Where had my control gone? My subs didn’t dictate when and where and what. I did. This was a mistake. I blinked to clear the fuzziness from my brain. The boy was obviously working his way under my defenses and that couldn’t go on. The dynamic was growing skewed.
“Stand up,” I said, and he shot to his feet, eager as that damn proverbial beaver. I ran my hand over his chest, enjoying the quick expansion of his lungs at my touch. He was lean and nearly hairless, a fine line of brown hair danced over his flat belly to a neat patch of chestnut curls. He had a delightful cock. Perfectly formed, with a fat head that was glistening with precum. His prick curved upward. I patted his belly. “Move to the swing.”
“Yes, Sir.” He bounded off with all the enthusiasm of a six-month-old Lab puppy spying a pond. Like a good sub, he stood by the swing, silently, his cock jutting out and his mask tight around his head. The collar looked good on him. Seeing him wearing it so proudly called up those odd and uneasy feelings. I’d had hundreds of subs here, most had been collared, the majority far more experienced than Amber. None of them, not even Micah, had reached into me bare-fisted and yanked on my long-buried emotions like this man was.
“Have you ever been in a swing before, Pup?” I asked.
“No, Sir.” My cock swelled even more, pushing against the leather of my pants. Fuck, this boy was messing with my head. “I know how they work, though. Can I get in now?”
He was a good sub, so eager to please, so eager to be pleased. “Yes, ass in the seat, feet in the stirrups, and arms in the restraints. I’ll fasten you in place when you’re comfortable.” He clambered into the swing like a monkey, no awkward flailing around or falling out as so many new subs do. It made me doubt his claims that he’d never been in a swing, and so I questioned him as I fastened the padded restraints around his delicate wrists.
“I’ve never been in…one,” he said, his breathing jagged and uneven as I walked from his head to his feet, my fingertips skimming over his ribs. He held back the giggles well. “I saw…oh…I… oh, Sir…” My hand moved up his thigh, avoiding his cock completely, to move his foot where I wanted it. Tiny patches of gooseflesh rose up on his alabaster skin. The urge to kiss the little bumps was strong but I held it in check, which empowered me and fed my need to control. “Diamond…” he sighed, the name escaping him on a breathy exhalation.
“Sir. You are not allowed to call me anything else.”
“Oh…yes, sorry. Sir, I was…Mm, my head and mouth are confused.” I glanced up from where I stood between his spread legs. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed with color. There were a thousand scenarios playing out in my head as I drank him in. Me feeding him my cock was the first and brightest. I tamped that down. This wasn’t supposed to be about my needs, or even his, this was supposed to teach the pup a lesson. Something about big dogs and sharp teeth. A session that would send him scurrying pack to his puppy masters and kill the crush he had on me. I needed to be rough with him. Yes. Scare him a bit. Make him see the darkness that lived inside me. Then he’d stop mooning over me and being kind to me and offering me succor that I so desperately wanted…
Funny, how your script has nothing even remotely dark in it. Not even a nipple clamp. Seems odd, don’t you think, David LaRue?
“Are you comfortable, Pup? Is there anything that you need before we begin?” He shook his head. “Speak.”
“No, no Sir. I’m fine.” His thigh muscles tensed when I stepped between them.
“Do you remember the safety words?” I asked as I tickled the juncture where leg joined trunk. He gasped and writhed and then blurted out his reply. Satisfied, I then fondled his balls, taking the heavy orbs in my hand, happy that I’d chosen not to wear gloves this time. I needed to feel the heat of Amber’s skin as I brought him to the edge.
“Tell me when you’re close. Do not come unless you have my permission.” He grunted something that might have been English. I released his balls and took his cock in hand, giving it a hard stroke, twisting my palm over the engorged head, and then going back down.
“Oh…oh…oh Sir!” he cried out. I loved a vocal sub. It was one reason I disliked puppy play; I needed to hear the sounds of a man bowing to my control. “Oh…yes…I’m close!”
My hand left his dick. Amber whined, bowing up in the swing, legs out and knees locked. A fine patina of sweat appeared on his skin. I bent down to swipe my tongue along the indentation of his navel, my chest moving over his cock. I moaned at the salty taste of his perspiration. He rutted up against me. I stepped back to get distance between us.
“What did you just do that was wrong, Pup?” I enquired, all touching and teasing stopping.
“I…I’m sorry. I just need…”
“What did you do wrong?” I asked again.
“My…I…I tried to control what was happening. Will you punish me?” He lifted his head; his pupils were blown with lust, but his words were laced with uncertainty.
“Yes, I will.” I had to. He had to learn what I’d accept and what I wouldn’t. So, I swatted his bare ass hard enough that the crack made my palm tingle. His yelp folded into a long moan and he bucked madly, hands fisting on the chains. “Do not come,” I said firmly, my gaze riveted to his pert ass, the red mark I’d made, and the way his hole clenched in need. I wanted to taste that hole, tongue it, finger it, push that tail plug into it as I sucked on his dick until he blew down my throat. But no. No. I stepped back between his legs. His teeth were working his lower lip as he focused on fighting back his orgasm. “You’re doing well, now.”
“Yes…well…oh… oh!” He groaned when I tickled his cock with the tips of my fingers. I glanced at the clock and saw that thirty minutes had elapsed. Fuck. I was not at all in the space I had to be in or was usually in. Amber did strange things to me. “Water… can I have… please, Sir?”
Leaving him for a moment was a good thing. I could refocus. I went to the small fridge hidden behind a silk screen print of a nude young man shown from behind kneeling. The print was done in shades of royal blue, white and gold, and was perfect for this room. He drank greedily from the small bottle of spring water that I held to his lips. His gaze caressed my face as he gulped.
“We’ve reached the end of this session, but we’re not done. Would you like to stop now or continue?” I stroked his hair back from his mask. I loved half masks; I really did. They gave you anonymity and still left the mouth accessible. Drops of sweat ran down from under the leather headgear. I gathered one up and sucked it off the tip of my finger. “You’re delicious, Pup.”
“Thank you, Sir. Can we please continue?”
“Yes, of course.” I placed the bottle to the floor and made a circle of him, touching his nipples, watching his reaction as I did so. When I saw him flinch and heard his moan, I began playing with the tiny raspberry-colored discs. Tweaking, rubbing, pinching.
“I’m close…Sir, oh, Sir, please…I need you…”
Music to my ears, the plea that he needed what only I could give him. Plucking at one puckered nipple a final time, I went to stand between his legs. His contract had said oral and anal, so I bent over and sucked his cock into my mouth as I pressed a finger against his hole. Amber howled and thrust, his cockhead bumping the roof of my mouth just as he filled my mouth with cum. Thick, hot pulses of salty spend coated my mouth. He thrashed and kicked, the chains rattling loudly.
His ass pulled at my finger, begging for more. I pulled off his dick, then let some cum dribble from my lips to his hole. I pushed a finger in, all the way in, and hooked it. A spurt of semen flew from his cock, speckling my cheek. Then another rush of cum arrived, and another. Each scrape of my fingernail over his prostate rewarded me with more rich, sweet spunk. He finally reached the end of his release, collapsing into the swing, his muscles going lax but his dick oozing semen yet. With his loving gaze on me, I pulled my finger out of his ass, swiped some cum up, and walked around the swing to slip it between his lips. He lapped at my finger lazily. My cock was so hard now, it ached. I slipped my finger free of his mouth and sucked it clean.
“I can’t…my bones are… that was the best ever, Sir.”
“Hush now.” I freed his wrists and gathered him up out of the swing. Cradling him to me like a babe, I carried him upstairs, leaving the clean-up for afterward. Amber curled into me, kissing a soft path up and down my neck. He was plaint and clingy, touchy, needy. I drew him a bath, removed his collar and mask, and washed him off, using a thick sponge and a bar of citrus soap that I had never used before. The fresh smell was Amber to me. When he was clean and pink from the hot water, I wrapped him in a robe of thick terrycloth and carried him to my bed. My bed. Not the bed in the basement, where this should be taking place. No, my bed, on the second floor. Things were totally out of control and I had no idea how to regain my grasp on the wheel, or even if I wanted to.
“Rest a bit. I’ll bring you something to eat.”
He blinked at me with drowsy green eyes.
“That was the best orgasm I ever had, Sir.”
“I’m glad, Pup.”
He yawned and stretched and snuggled into my bed like a sleepy pug. “What about you?” His eyes battled to stay open, and a warmth blossomed inside me watching him fight to stay awake out of concern for me. Few of my clients had great concern for me. Me, David LaRue Michelson, not Diamond the Dom. They all loved Diamond, and wanted to please him, but David was an unknown entity and that was how I preferred it. Still, hearing him ask about me, my needs and wants, was touching in ways that I should not be touched.
“I’m fine. Rest now. You’re a good pup, Amber.” I pushed his damp hair from his face. Such a sweet, adoring face.
“Zach, my name is Zach Fletcher. And you’re David. Is it okay if I know that, Sir? I won’t use it without permission.”
Hearing his name, his birth name, ripped my breath from my lungs. It was too damn personal, too intimate. He should be Amber or Pup or even lowercase pup but Zach? Zach made him a real person. I was…there was no way I was ready for a real person in my life. Yet, here he was, bundled up in my sheets, all pink-cheeked, waiting expectantly, watching with jade eyes brimming with affection.
“Yes, it’s okay if you know that. But you do not call me that name anywhere but here in my bedroom.”
He smiled and I felt the world as I knew change. There was no big boom or no snap of the fingers from a super villain with a golden gauntlet. It was just the soft smile of a young man who cared for me more than anyone else ever had.
Oh oh oh this just gets better every week!