Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  I managed a “Yes, Master,” and let my whimpers flow free as I scrambled to obey. I kicked my shoes off, yanking my sweater and T-shirt over my head at the same time. Then I shoved my jeans and boxers over my hips to the floor in one move. A moment later, I did as he ordered, holding the backs of my knees as I spread myself out in the middle of the lake-sized bed, hissing when my welted back and hot ass hit the comforter.

  He watched the whole thing, pulling his boots off, his dark eyes fixed on me. His gaze felt like a live thing, burning my skin and making me fight hard against the order to lie still. His eyes heated even more at the wince, and his smile spoke of pure evil intent.

  Master stalked around the bed to the table there, pulled open the drawer, and rummaged inside without looking away from me. He tossed a condom and a bottle of lube on the bed next to me, grabbed something else I couldn’t see, and shut the drawer again. Then he moved back around the bed to stand at the end.

  My whimpers turned into one long whine when he stripped his T-shirt slowly in a tease. Every muscle in my body strained to move, go to him, touch, kiss, suck. But I held on to my determination to obey. I couldn’t stop my cock from jumping, leaking even more precum, especially when he opened his jeans. He had nothing on under them, and his hard cock sprang free.

  Fuck, it was gorgeous. I’d been right earlier. It was much bigger than anything I’d ever felt before. It made a sort of sense that his cock should match the rest of him.

  My asshole clenched in memory of the last time it was buried in me. I was so far gone into subspace at the time, all I remembered was the pleasure, the fullness, and Master’s voice teasing me about it. When I’d blown him, I’d been so nervous and focused on giving to him, I hadn’t let myself think too much about it. Now I saw how big it was, and all I could think was he wasn’t moving fast enough.

  He saw my cock jumping and hole clenching, and his smile spread a little more, looking still more evil, if that was even possible. He peeled his jeans inch by inch over his hips and I stared, my eyes following, soaking up each millimeter of bared skin. Finally, he let them fall and stepped out of them.

  My God, Master was gorgeous. All hard muscles and smooth skin, save for the patch of fine dark hair between his pecs that arrowed to curl around the base of his cock. His big, heavy balls looked tight already, and I desperately wanted to worship them with my tongue and lips.

  Lying still, waiting for him to come to me, was the worst form of torture.

  He snatched up whatever he’d had with him and crawled onto the bed. That’s when I saw it was a small coil of thin rope. I knew in an instant what it was for.

  “Wouldn’t want you to accidentally go off, would I?” he asked, kneeling between my spread legs. He uncoiled the rope as I shook my head quickly, and he wrapped it around the base of my cock behind my sac. After a few very tight rounds, he moved down to the top of my sac, wrapping it there in several snug rounds before tying it off, the ends dangling over my balls, teasing them. I’d come eventually, there was no doubt about that, but this would hold it back, frustrating me incredibly in the meantime. It also strained my already sore balls, and the pain made my need worse. My cock jumped, length red now, tip purple, it was so hard. My balls tried to tighten even more, but the rope prevented it.

  Master wrapped his hand around them and squeezed slowly but steadily until I cried out. He released them only to slap them, making me jump, then gripped them again. “Feeling full?”

  “Yes, Master,” I moaned, struggling to keep from rocking my hips. I wanted to let go of my legs, touch him, pull him to me. It was a good thing he’d ordered me to stay still, or I wouldn’t have been able to resist. “So full.”

  “Mmm, good.” He bent down, sliding back on the bed, and before I realized what he was doing, he had his mouth around one of my balls and was sucking on it.

  I shouted, gripping my sore legs hard. He increased his sucking, being none too gentle, and I started whimpering in one long series of sounds. He switched to the other, sucking it just as hard until they hurt so much, I couldn’t think. He slapped them again before wrapping his hand around my straining dick and stroking it several times.

  I don’t know when I started crying, but tears of frustration, pain, need, and desperation leaked out. I was babbling too, Please and Master and Fuck me spilling from my lips nonstop.

  “Soon, boy,” he murmured, kissing my tears away. “God, you’re beautiful like this. Love that I can reduce you to a sobbing mess.” To punctuate his words, he stroked my cock again with one hand, squeezing my balls with the other. I cried out again, more tears spilling free.

  Finally, finally, I felt his fingers at my ass. The first went in smoothly, and he quickly added a second. I was impatient. I didn’t want to be prepared. I wanted his cock to be what stretched me, to feel him for days after this. But he wouldn’t be pushed, and he smacked the inside of my thigh over my crop marks.

  Three fingers, and still he took his time. I gave up trying to form words, instead begging with my incoherent sounds. He spread the three, stretching me more. The burn felt so good, and I moaned for more.

  When he pulled those three out, I cried in relief, only to have him push four in. “No,” I moaned.

  “No?” Master asked. “Don’t want your orgasm? Is that it?”

  “No! Oh God, no, Master! Please,” I managed. When he gave me a raised eyebrow, I cobbled together enough thought to answer him better. “I do. I just want you,” I managed.

  “Oh, you’ll get me. Not until I’m ready, boy. And I want to make sure this asshole is nice and open, stretched wide for me.” He leaned over me, biting my earlobe hard, then murmured into my ear, the low tone making the words even filthier. “I’m gonna wreck this ass for anyone but me. Only my dick is going in here. It’s mine now to fuck.”

  I moaned, loud and long, at the possession, the dark need I could hear in the tone. “Yes, Master. Yes, Mal, yours,” I whimpered.

  “And as soon as we can get tested, I’m going to leave my cum in your ass, boy. Fill you up with me.”

  “Yours, all yours,” I nearly cried.

  And just then I felt the blunt head of his slicked cock pushing against the ring of muscle. He paused, holding there for a long moment, then said, “Let me in, beautiful boy. Let me have that ass.”

  I breathed out and bore down, pushing against his cock, and he stretched my hole around him, seating himself in one hard, burning thrust. I nearly screamed. It hurt like hell and felt fucking fantastic all at the same time. He held still as my body adjusted to the invasion, but my asshole was being stretched so much, I didn’t think it would get used to that thick cock filling me. It felt so fucking huge, and my muscles flexed and clenched around it, pulling a groan from my Master.

  He took my hands from my legs, clasped them, fingers threading, and pinned them to the bed on either side of my head. “Gonna fuck you now, baby. How’s that back?”

  “Hurts, Master. So good,” I moaned.

  “Fuck yeah, boy,” he said, then pulled back and gave me another of those hard, full thrusts.

  My back dragged a little over the comforter, setting my welts on fire. I cried out again, back arching into the covers, and he gave me another thrust like the last two. Just as hard, just as brutal.

  I wasn’t sure how much more my overloaded senses could take. I felt something everywhere. His hands clasped to mine, his body covering me. His hot breath mingling with mine. His stomach brushing my desperate cock. Every inch of me was feeling something.

  The potent smell of sweat and sex filled my nostrils. His grunts and moans were music in my ears. And his face, his gorgeous face, glittering dark eyes, filled my vision. Then he kissed me and I had taste too.

  But still he wasn’t done. He broke the kiss and kept up the frustratingly slow thrusts until I was once more begging incoherently for more. “More, boy?” he growled into my ear.

  “Please, Master, more!”

  “You asked for it, boy. Hold the headboar
d,” he ordered, releasing my hands and guiding them to the posts above my head. I gripped them hard, and Master resettled, putting my legs over his shoulders and almost bending me double. His body hair tormented my sensitive skin, but that was the least of my worries when he started thrusting again.

  He set a punishing pace, nearly pounding into me. His hips slapped against my hot ass, and at the same time, he hit my sore balls. My back ground into the covers on every thrust. The pain flared through me, making my cock jump and need claw harder at me. The friction from his stomach wasn’t quite enough to get me where I needed to be. I was captive, a sobbing, desperately needy mess stretched wide open for him to fuck me as he saw fit and take his pleasure.

  And I loved it. I’d never felt so good in all my life. The earlier sex in the club was nothing compared to this. He shifted just enough that his thrusts started nailing my prostate, shoving me forcefully closer to the edge of orgasm but still not over.

  I don’t know when my words shifted from Oh God, please to Come, Master, and please come in me, Master, but I realized I’d stopped thinking of my pleasure entirely. Not that I was a selfish lover, but for as aroused as I was, as desperate as I was for my orgasm—and I still hung precariously close to the edge—I wasn’t thinking about it. I was focused on nothing but his instead.

  I flexed my muscles, rolled my hips as much as I could to meet his thrusts, and did anything else I could possibly imagine to give him pleasure. He moaned louder, sweat pouring off his face. The muscles in his chest bunched, shifting and flexing as he fucked me, harder and faster. I could tell he held nothing back, and I thrilled in the loss of control I’d caused.

  “Close, boy,” he grunted. “Gonna come in your ass, baby.”

  “Fuck yes, Master,” I moaned. The muscles in my arms strained with how hard I gripped the posts. I looked up, meeting his eyes, and something in them nearly undid me. “Please… please come for me.”

  “Ready, baby?”

  I groaned. I wanted him to come first, wanted to feel him lose himself in me. But he slipped his hand between us, and I knew what he was going to do before he did it. A moment later, the pressure on my cock and balls eased as he untied and loosened the rope. My cock hardened even more.

  In seconds, the edge of orgasm screamed closer, and I shouted. “Oh… oh God, Master… I’m… oh fuck, I’m gonna….”

  “That’s it, boy….” He wrapped his hand around my cock, and two strokes and a command later, our gazes locked, I shattered.

  My back arched hard as pleasure the likes of which I’d never felt before tore through me with the force of a hurricane. My balls hurt as they unloaded my spunk in thick white ropes, coating my chest and stomach and spraying Master as well. I didn’t realize what I shouted at first, but when I saw his eyes widen and his smile, I couldn’t regret it. It was Mal’s name—not Master, but Mal—that fell from my lips.

  Maybe it was that, or something else, but on the heels of my shout, he let his own out—“Kyle!”—as he thrust hard once more, burying himself balls-deep. I felt his cock twitch deep inside me, and I hoped he’d meant what he’d said earlier, because I wanted to feel that again but with nothing in the way, his cum spilling into me.

  He slumped forward, panting as hard as I was in the aftermath of such devastating pleasure. He let my legs down, and I took my hands off the bars and wrapped both arms around him. As Master settled a little more on me, I savored the feel of his weight pressing into me.

  Burying his face in my neck, he kissed it softly over and over. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the simple action, combing my fingers through his soft, silky hair. He hummed as I did so, and I couldn’t contain the chuckle.

  “You sound like a big cat when you do that,” I murmured.

  He lifted up and smiled down at me. “As long as you don’t mistake me for some wimpy pet cat.”

  I snorted. “Never, Master. After tonight? Not going to happen.”

  He grinned. “You know, I had intended to bring you up here, kiss you all over, and do this whole slow, gentle thing.”

  If his eyes hadn’t been twinkling with repressed laughter, I might have felt bad about my own. Instead, I let it out. “Um… I think you missed the mark on that. A little.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “You think? Maybe a little.” He leaned down and his lips met mine, this kiss soft and gentle. When he broke it, he nuzzled my face briefly, then pulled back. “I need to take care of your back and ass, baby,” he said, then kissed me on the nose and shifted, easing himself out of me.

  I winced, my abused hole protesting even that much. Despite his cock being soft, it still hurt a bit as he pulled out. He paused when he sat back with my legs still spread. He brushed his thumb over my ass, just outside my still-stretched hole.

  “Love to see you all stretched out for me, because of me.” He looked up, eyes meeting mine. “I meant what I said. I want to go get tested with you. Maybe not the next time I pull out of this ass, but soon, my cum will follow, leaking out and dripping all over you.”

  My poor cock actually twitched. I think I whimpered slightly, though I tried not to make it too loud. I loved the thought, the ownership behind it.

  That thought brought me up short. I was going to have to be very careful. I could already feel myself wanting to give him everything, anything he asked for. It’d be so easy not to care or worry about anything but being with him, giving him what he wanted.

  “What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours, baby?”

  The way he asked that made me want to spill, but I didn’t think—despite wanting to get tested, despite going on a date—he’d want to hear that I wanted to be his everything. No one liked to have someone that clingy. I wasn’t usually this bad after a scene or sex, but I’d never had an experience like the one—ones—I’d had tonight.

  I took a breath. “I don’t know exactly.” He frowned, but I touched his hand. “No, uh, I mean it. I’m… I don’t know. I’m just—” I shook my head, frustrated with how to put it into words. “I feel….” I couldn’t finish that either and realized I probably shouldn’t anyway. He didn’t need me to turn into some kind of blubbering emotional mess. That was a surefire way of scaring him off. “I don’t know,” I finally said again.

  His face cleared. “I think I do.” He leaned forward and kissed the puzzled scowl on my forehead. “Let’s clean up.” And with that, he climbed out of bed, turned, and held his hand out to me.

  I rolled up to follow him and took the offered hand. I guessed he’d tell me what he thought in his own good time.

  He led me through a door and into a massive bathroom in warm earth tones. Directly in front of me was a deep spa tub. To the left was a glass-walled shower that could be counted as its own room. And beyond the tub, the toilet had its own tiny alcove. Matching sinks flanked the door.

  Mal took care of the condom, tossing it into a small can under one of the sinks, then approached the shower. He stopped at some shelves set into the wall next to it and pulled out two thick, fluffy towels. He set these on the corner of the tub, then leaned in and started the water, adjusting the temperature. “Not hot, not on those welts. Step in, baby. Let me clean you up a little. Wait.” He stepped up to me and ran a finger over the collar. “This needs to come off for the shower.”

  I frowned, swallowing. I looked up into his eyes and nodded, trying not to be disappointed.

  “If you want it back after, I’ll put it back on you.”

  I breathed out my relief, feeling ridiculous but better.

  He took the collar off and set it on the end of the tub next to the towels, then waved at the shower.

  I stepped in, wincing as the water hit my skin. It was barely warm and it stung. I wouldn’t have thought to keep it to warm instead of hot, and I was glad for his knowledge and experience.

  He stepped in behind me, picking up a bottle of liquid bodywash and pouring it into his hands. He ran them gently over my back, down my legs, then to my ass, just bru
shing his fingers over my now very sore hole. When he finished, he soaped up my chest and the rest of me, then rinsed that side down. At his direction I turned around, leaning against the wall, and he took a removable showerhead down and twisted it to a slow flow. He parted my asscheeks gently and let the water run over me, cleaning the last of the lube and sweat from me.

  Afterward, he leaned forward and left a soft kiss on each cheek. Then he stood, hung the showerhead back up, and picked up the bodywash again. I took it out of his hands and poured some in my own palm, then proceeded to wash him.

  Showering with someone was a completely new experience for me. It felt so different from anything I’d done with anyone else, so much more intimate. I was beginning to understand new experiences would happen a lot with this man.

  If he wanted them with me.

  I pushed the thought back, annoyed with my messed-up emotions, and focused on rinsing his body and washing his hair. He had to kneel so I could get to it, and he grinned up at me as he did.

  “Don’t get used to this position, boy,” he murmured, and I gave a fake pout. He swatted me lightly on the hip, and I laughed.

  Once his hair was rinsed and he’d taken care of mine, we stepped out and dried each other off, and then he picked up the collar. “Do you still want this back on?”

  I hesitated, but I couldn’t read his expression. “I-I’d like it. Do you want to put it on me?”

  He smiled. “I like seeing my collar on you,” he said and put it around my neck.

  I closed my eyes as he fastened it. God, I was being crazy. But I wanted this with him. I imagined having one permanently, locked around my neck. Maybe with a tag on it that said something like Master Mal. I shook the thought off when I felt his finger ghost over the edge. I looked up. His expression was unreadable, but he leaned in and kissed me, then took my hand and pulled me back into the bedroom.

  As he was pulling the blankets down, though, I remembered I needed to text Mike. I found my jeans and pulled out my phone, seeing a missed message.