Dreamspinner Press Year Nine Greatest Hits

by Michael Murphy

  I smiled and watched him for a moment. I had to admit I liked seeing his naked, collared body in my kitchen. I shook my head at myself and went to start the laundry.

  “TELL ME you’re joking,” I said, still laughing.

  Kyle shook his head, snickering. “Nope. He was so confused. I actually felt a little sorry for him.”

  “Didn’t he see the Adam’s apple?”

  “No! And the guy even tried to tell him! Mike just would not believe it! Finally she dragged both of us into the bathroom, lifted her skirt, and showed Mike the dick.” Kyle started snickering again. “Mike’s face was priceless. He kept looking from the guy’s dick, up to the face, then back to the dick. Then he’d look at me, open his mouth, close it, and do it all over again.”

  I snorted, trying to get a hold of myself. “I think I feel worse for the queen.”

  Kyle nodded. “I did! He was almost as confused as Mike. I don’t think he’d ever met anyone who flat refused to believe he was really a guy.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Sophia,” Kyle said. “Uh, and Tom, when he wasn’t in drag.”

  “Don’t think I know him. That’s priceless.” I shook my head. “So what happened?”

  “I think Mike’s brain just sort of checked out. Sophia, as surprised as she was, felt sorry for Mike’s confusion. So, she dropped to her knees—I’ve never seen anyone that graceful in a dress, male or female—unzipped his pants, then looked up at him and said, ‘Tell me to stop now.’ Mike, confused or not, is no fool. He’s not about to turn down a blow job. Especially if he could pretend it was a woman.” He chuckled again. “It was hot but weird. I don’t do women at all. So while I knew it was a guy, knew he had a dick under that dress, it looked like a woman blowing Mike.”

  “Wow. That must have been something.”

  “No doubt. He had this total existential meltdown—Mike, I mean. He spent the next three weeks trying to figure out if he was bi because a drag queen blew him.”

  “Oh shit,” I said, snorting. “I take it he decided he was still straight?”

  “Yeah. When I offered to blow him to help him clear it up, he looked kind of freaked out at first. Then grinned because he figured it meant he was straight. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he probably just wasn’t attracted to me.”

  “He probably had enough,” I agreed.

  Kyle picked up the last piece of bacon and took a bite, and I tilted my head, watching him.

  “You know, you’re too far away over there.”

  He blinked at me, raising his eyebrows. “I’m only a couple of feet away,” he pointed out, fighting a grin.

  “True,” I conceded. “But that’s still too far. You should be in my lap.”

  His eyes twinkled, grin threatening to break free. “I’m not sure that chair can hold both of us.”

  Oh, he was playing with me. I loved it. “Are you talking back to me, boy?”

  “Oh, Sir, I wouldn’t dream of talking back to you!”

  Yeah, he was playing. I smirked. “I think you do want to be here, but stretched across my lap with your ass up, my hand warming it, is that it?”

  “I don’t know, Master. Am I being bad?” he asked, then looked at me and very deliberately bit his lip.

  My cock jumped and I crooked a finger. “Oh, you know you are. Over my lap, boy,” I growled.

  He stood and I saw his dick was already at half-mast and filling quickly. I pushed my chair back, and he leaned over, arranging himself across my legs. I made sure his now-hard cock was between my thighs. I placed my left hand on his back to help hold him in place and ran my right hand lightly over his ass. “At this rate, your ass is going to be permanently red.”

  He whimpered a little, but I could hear more excitement than anything.

  “Does that excite you?” I whispered, and he nodded. “I could keep it red. Make sure your ass is always at least slightly sore.”

  Another whimper. He shifted. Anxious.

  “How many do you get for biting that lip, boy?”

  “Five, Master,” he said, voice a bit shaky.

  “And how many should I give you for talking back to me?”

  He hesitated and looked up at me. “Five, Master?” That look was entirely too innocent.

  “I think ten for talking back should do it,” I said, and his eyes widened, but his cock jumped between my legs and his face was reddening with excitement.

  “Yes, Master,” he moaned.

  I paused, rubbing his ass again. “Do I have to tell you, you don’t have permission to come?”

  He shook his head. “No, Master.”

  “I don’t care how close you are. You will hold it back, won’t you?”

  “Yes, Master, I won’t come.”

  “Because if you come without permission, I’ll give you ten more hard swats.”

  He whimpered again but said, “Yes, Master.”

  “Count them, boy.” I lifted my hand and brought it down over both cheeks. I didn’t hit nearly as hard as I had earlier, knowing a chunk of this was more play than anything.

  “One. Thank you, Master,” he said, sounding breathless.

  My cock was hard by this point, and I wanted nothing more than to throw him over the table when we were done and fuck him senseless. I ignored it and focused on my boy. I gave him a second swat, this one on his left cheek.

  “Two. Thank you, Master.”

  I kept the first eight or so fairly light. His pink ass was turning redder as we went, but I knew I wasn’t really hurting him yet. At nine, I put a bit more force behind the swat, and the count started to sound a little strained. The tenth hit had him jumping and his count stuttering.

  I leaned down to him. “What are your safewords, boy?”

  “Cherry and lemon, Master,” he replied immediately.

  “You can always use them, without fear, no matter what we’re doing. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, glancing up at me. “Yes, Master.”

  “Do you want to now?” I asked, wanting to make sure he knew this could still end if he needed or wanted it to. Even if it was punishment.

  He shook his head. “No, Master.”

  “Very well. The last five, boy.”

  These, since they sort of weren’t play, in response to the lip biting, I gave him harder swats for. With his already tenderized ass made more sensitive by the first ten, he had tears in his eyes from eleven. Twelve brought a sob. Thirteen caused him to struggle to count. It took him almost a minute to get the words out. It wasn’t until I felt his dick jumping between my legs that I realized only half of it was the pain. The other half of it was to hold back his orgasm.

  I decided to be just a little evil. I closed my legs, giving his cock firm friction. Then I lifted my hand and brought it down hard, one on each cheek in quick succession.

  “Fourteen!” he shouted, shuddering hard. “Fifteen!” He held his breath, shaking his head, and I knew the right move against my sweats and he’d spray. “Thank… you…, Master,” he finally managed.

  I held him there for another long moment, my legs snug around his dick, moving him just enough to make it difficult on him, make him have to keep fighting to hold back, though not impossible. He shook in need and with the effort of keeping his orgasm at bay. Finally, I spread my legs and took the friction away, guiding him to stand. His red cock jumped, tip swollen and wet. His balls were drawn tight. I suspected if I breathed on him wrong, he’d come. He’d been right on the edge of orgasm.

  I held his hands together behind his back and watched him squirm, fucking slightly at the air. It delighted my sadist to see the frustration mount as his pleasure faded.

  Once I was sure he was calmer, I pulled him down to straddle my lap. “I think I like it when you’re a bit bratty, boy.” I made sure he was firmly sitting on his sore ass with my arm around his waist, holding him there and putting enough pressure to keep him feeling it.

  “M-Master?” he asked. I hummed. “I-I think I like
it too.”

  “Mmmm.” I leaned in and bit at his neck, just above the collar. He had a pretty bruise there from the night before, and I hoped he had decent collars on his shirts or he’d have trouble hiding it. The idea of him being marked by me where others could see sent a jolt of possessiveness through me that I knew I had no right to feel. I admitted to myself I wanted to, though. It worried me a little, how much I wanted with him so quickly.

  But I’d been alone a long time and it was past time I stopped dodging it. I pushed the worries away, determined to experience this with him, focus on him, and see where it might go.

  I nipped at the top of his shoulder where it wouldn’t be seen, pulling the skin in and worrying it, sucking hard until it would bruise too. I pulled back, licking over it. “I like marking you. Your skin is perfect for it.”

  “I like having your marks,” he whispered.

  I looked up and met those gorgeous green eyes. I couldn’t read what all was in them, but I saw the want, what I thought was hope, and I pulled him in, our lips meeting. I took my time, starting softly, making it more about the fledgling emotions I had for him than anything else. He moaned quietly and melted into me. I loved how he did that, like he was giving everything of himself up to me.

  I ran my hands up his back and down, then cupped his face in one palm, deepening the kiss slowly. His moans got louder, sounding more aroused than sweet, and I dropped my hand to his cock, feeling it leak. I teased the head as I continued the kiss, dominating his mouth thoroughly now.

  He rocked a little, and I tightened my arm around him, anchoring him snugly. He gasped into the kiss, from the pain in his ass, I was guessing, then whimpered when I stroked his cock once.

  I teased him more, working him over while still keeping his mouth busy. His hands fluttered from my shoulders to my arms and back as if he didn’t know what to do with them. I let him go, focusing on pushing him as much as I could.

  Finally, he broke the kiss, crying out, his head falling back. “Master, please…,” he moaned.

  “Oh no, not for you, boy. No coming,” I said, my voice husky.

  He rolled his head on his shoulders, hands squeezing my arms. I stroked him again, pulling another cry from him. “Master! Oh God, Master, please! I can’t….” He shook slightly in my arms. His legs gripped my hips hard and his hands tightened even more.

  I pushed him, hand sliding firmly over his dick now, needing to see how far he’d go. His muscles strained and I stroked him faster.

  “Master!” Kyle shouted, and then his eyes flew open. He struggled for another few seconds, then shouted, “Lemon, Master!”

  I let go of his cock.

  It jumped hard and he panted with the effort, his face a mask of distress. “I’m sor—”

  “Shh,” I said, kissing his scrunched forehead. “Never apologize for using a safeword, no matter why you’re using it. I mean it.” He might not have realized how much trust doing so showed, but I did, and the knowledge filled me with warmth. I swore not to violate that trust for anything.

  Tears sprang to his eyes. “But—”

  I pulled him in, rubbing my hand down his back. “No,” I said firmly. “I am not disappointed in you at all. You’ve pleased me, in fact. I’m glad to know you’ll use it. I need to know you’ll use it. I’d rather find out from something like this than if I pushed you too far with pain.” I kissed his forehead again, then tilted his face up to me. “Do you understand?”

  He blinked at me a few times. “Yes,” he said, but he was still frowning.

  I paused, rubbing his back as I thought it through. “We don’t know each other that well yet. You need to know I’ll honor your safewords, and I need to know you’ll use them. You’ve made me very happy to know you will.”

  He continued to stare at me for another moment, and then he nodded. “I understand. Thank you.”

  I kissed him again but kept it soft. “Thank you, baby,” I murmured when we broke apart. “I want you to understand something else.”

  He scrunched his forehead at me in puzzlement. “What’s that, Master?”

  “I know there are some Doms out there who set their subs up to fail so they can punish them.”

  Kyle dropped his gaze to my chest.

  “Let me guess, at least one of your former Doms did that, didn’t they?”

  He didn’t speak, just nodded again.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not like that. It’s bullshit. I’m not going to tell you, you can’t come, that you’ll get punished if you do, then make it impossible for you to hold off.”

  He looked up at me, eyebrows up. “No?”

  “No. Look, there’s this great fantasy out there that we can completely control your orgasms. That we can command you to come or not at our whim. And sure, with time I’m sure it can work that way. But it’s not going to happen after one night or in one play session. So, I’m not about to expect that. If I push you, and you can’t stop, I expect you to safeword. Okay?”

  He stared at me for a long time, then finally nodded. “I understand, Master. I… I’ve….” He took a deep breath. “I spent a lot of time training with Master Nash. I kept thinking I was… that something was wrong with me if I used them, you know? So I didn’t.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I know. Not with me, yeah?”

  He nodded.

  “Good.” I held him close and brushed a thumb over his cheek. “I want you again. But I think we ought to maybe take a break from this stuff for a while, hmm?”

  It did me good to see him disappointed in that, but said, “That’s probably best.” His lips tilted in a small smile. “I’m a little sore, actually.”

  I grinned. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t. How about we clean up here and watch a movie?” I really wasn’t ready to let him go yet. I’d have to—the real world waited at the end of the weekend—but I was selfish and wanted as much as I could get until then. Because I also wasn’t ready to entertain the idea that he might not want to come back.

  His smile widened. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” I kissed him again and helped him stand. “You okay?”

  He appeared to think about it and I appreciated that he did. “Yes. Ass is sore.” He grinned and mine matched it. “And I’m still horny.”

  “As you should be,” I growled, making him smile even wider. “Good boys should be horny all the time.”

  He laughed. “Yes, Sir.”

  I swatted his ass lightly. “Gather the dishes while I switch loads.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he said, saluting me.

  Chapter 8

  Kyle

  IT SCARED me. Being pushed to the point of using a safeword freaked me out more than a little. I’d never, in the time since I’d discovered the BDSM world, used them. Not with Master Nash, not with any of the Doms I’d played with. Part of it was, as I’d told Master, I’d felt like a failure somehow if I did. Part of it was… well, it was different with him than it had been with anyone else.

  I’d never felt anything like what I’d felt with Master Mal. Emotionally, physically, he’d made me feel things I didn’t know I could. My body, as sore as it was, felt incredible. Every time I moved, my ass reminded me of what he’d done to and for me. I’d damned near flown just from that little spanking earlier. Fifteen swats, and I knew he hadn’t even been hitting that hard. The spanking in the bedroom when I’d broken the lip-biting rule had shown me that.

  My body simply reacted to him, like it knew who its master was, even if I wasn’t quite ready to admit it. Which I wasn’t. Not yet. I wanted him, and if I was willing to accept what I’d seen and heard from him, he wanted me. But I’d had too many Doms walk away from me, too many guys want a one-night stand and nothing else. They’d said they wanted more at the time, but they never called, never returned mine.

  And I was still all too aware of what I could lose if the truth of my sexuality got out to my family. Everything I’d seen told me Mal lived in the open. How long would he put up with a closeted lover
or boy?

  These things continued to roll around in my head as Thorin and company got lost in the woods. I was currently stretched out on top of Mal on the sofa. We’d watched the first Hobbit movie already and paused after to have sandwiches before setting up for the second one. Midafternoon sun peeked around the blinds he’d pulled to make it easier to watch the movies.

  I wondered how long he would want me there. I knew I should probably not want to stay. I should get dressed, go home, put some distance between us, and give myself a chance to think more clearly. But I didn’t. I wanted to stay in his arms, in his company. I wanted to keep touching, feeling him against me. I guessed part of that was the sub drop he’d told me about. But I knew that wasn’t all of it. I just wanted him.

  Rubbing my face over his chest hair, I inhaled his scent. God, he smelled so good. I could easily become addicted to it. His smell, the feel of him against me, the taste of his kisses, his skin—all of it.

  Mal’s arms tightened around me in response. One of his hands stayed on my ass, occasionally squeezing it as if to remind me it was still sore. Or maybe to remind me what he’d done, that he’d Mastered me so fully.

  I frowned slightly at that. Maybe he did want to keep me, but would it only be as his boy? He’d said we’d go on a date, but he hadn’t mentioned it again, and I wondered if he’d changed his mind. If maybe he liked the idea of me as a boy, but not a lover.

  I hoped that wasn’t the case. As much as I liked being his boy, I wanted a lover too. Eventually even a partner. I knew that was a ways down the road, and I didn’t know how that would even work with me in the closet. I guessed at some point I was just going to have to come out and deal with the fallout. I just hoped I had time to come to terms with it, make sure if they really did take my home and car, I had a way of handling it.

  I was getting ahead of myself. Even if he’d been serious and we’d date, that certainly didn’t mean we’d be partners. I mentally shook my head and sighed.

  “That sounded sad. Are you okay, baby?”