Boy Fun, Four Book Bundle

by Alex Jordaine

  ‘Did you see what he did?’ Tony asked. ‘It was awesome.’

  ‘I know,’ I told him. ‘I was there.’

  He seemed surprised. ‘So what really happened?’

  I told him everything.

  When I finished, Tony pulled an iPhone out of his camouflage shorts pocket, dialled, and pressed the phone to his ear. ‘Yo, Dad, you need to hear this.’

  Then he repeated everything I’d just told him about the previous evening and added, ‘I’ll email you his cell phone number and the link to the video.’

  After Tony finished his call and email, he said, ‘My dad’s a producer for Channel 5 News.’

  The next few days were wicked crazy. By the time I finished my last class of the day, a reporter from Channel 5 News had interviewed Slash down at the skatepark and Mrs Winston at the Sew-n-Sew.

  That night I watched the story of the “Skateboard Hero” with Slash sitting next to me on my couch. The report included the girl’s video of the event, Mrs Winston being effusive about what a hero Slash turned out to be, and Slash telling the reporter that he hadn’t done anything special. ‘I just did what anybody would do.’

  Within 24 hours the story of the Skateboard Hero was all over the network news, the cable news networks, and the Internet.

  Slash finally stood out from the crowd. By the end of the week he had a sponsor and had a new trick named after him: The Slash-n-Burn.

  Slash’s 15 minutes of fame as the Skateboard Hero didn’t last long. The news cycle passed him by, but by then he was living his dream, earning a living as a pro skateboarder, first by demonstrating his move at various events and then by participating in and sometimes winning competitions.

  I stayed in school, studied accounting, and helped Slash manage his money as his income grew. By the time I graduated from a four-year university, Slash had several endorsement deals – including a non-paying one for the Sew-n-Sew after Mrs Winston made the mall’s owners take down the No Skateboarding on Sidewalk sign – that I helped him negotiate, and we had moved into an old Victorian that I was renovating while he travelled.

  I’d been right. I’d told Slash his time would come if he did the right thing.

  He had.

  And it had.

  The Collaring

  by Penelope Friday

  He kneels, naked, in the middle of the floor, watching as I get dressed. He may not move until I say he can. I have given permission for him to look at me, though he is forbidden to get hard, no matter what I say or do.

  I am choosing my costume for tonight.

  Later, I will choose one for Matt, my sub. I am taking him out tonight. I pull a pair of trousers out of the wardrobe, consider them, and reject them. I want everything to be right, tonight. I want it to be perfect. The tight leather trousers I find next are precisely what I want.

  I hear Matt moaning as I pull them over my body. They meld to my crotch, leaving little to the imagination. I look down at my submissive. His cock is leaving little to the imagination, either.

  ‘Matt ...’ I say warningly.

  He bows his head. ‘Sorry, Master.’

  ‘Today, of all days, to disobey me.’ I am kind, but disapproving. I run my hand over his face and neck, tugging at the collar which is his only clothing. ‘Do you want me to remove this?’

  ‘No. Please.’

  His erection has subsided at the threat. The familiar pleasure of willingly submitted power is keeping me hard, however. His eyes flicker to my groin, then away, quickly. I see him clench his fingers, digging his nails into his palms in an attempt to control his body’s urges.

  ‘Good boy.’

  I pull a shirt on, then my thick leather boots, and then look down at Matt. I will be wearing the leather; I will dress my sub in simple denim. The only leather he will wear will be the collar. I smile at him, and run my fingers round his neck, following the collar’s path. Then I give him his clothes, and he dresses. I look at my watch.

  ‘Time we were going, Matt.’

  ‘May I stand?’

  I nod. ‘Walk a pace behind me. You know your place.’

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  When we arrive at the hall, our guests have already arrived. Matt keeps a pace behind me, and seems as if he wishes to be entirely hidden; but he trusts me to take care of him, to take care of his needs. This is what it is all about.

  ‘It’s all right, Matt,’ I murmur soothingly, stroking his arm gently. To my surprise, he is actually trembling.

  The room has silenced as they notice our presence. Jerome has taken it upon himself to organise things, and he directs people to seats on either side of the room. Then, with a mocking smile at me, he jerks his head forward.

  ‘Your show now, Kris,’ he says.

  Followed by Matt, I walk to the front of the room, and turn to address the audience. Matt kneels down by my side, facing me, his eyes lowered. He is shaking again, although it will not be noticeable to anyone except me. I speak.

  ‘As you all know, Matt and I have been in a happy relationship for more than a year,’ I say. ‘Today, we choose to make a public commitment to each other. I have asked you here to witness our commitment and to see us make our vows.’

  Our friends are cheering, but Jerome continues his good work, and silences them quickly. I look down at Matt.

  ‘Matthew?’ I say quietly.

  He gulps, and rests one hand against my leg for a second, as if seeking support. But when he speaks, his voice is loud and clear.

  ‘I, with open heart and mind, do request Kris, my Master, to take control of my mind and body. I humbly ask him to accept me as his slave, and to use my body as he wishes in order for our relationship to grow and thrive.’ Matt’s voice chokes on the final words. I reach down and squeeze his hand gently.

  ‘I, with open heart and mind, accept your submission to me, and promise to do all I can to foster our relationship in happiness and health.’ I look down at my love, my slave, my possession. ‘As a sign of this agreement, I give to you this silver collar as an outward sign of my Mastership.’

  I give Matt my hand and encourage him to his feet, unfasten the leather collar, and replace it with the silver collar, which I padlock shut, placing the key on a chain around my own neck. ‘The collar represents your agreement; the key represents mine.’

  Our friends, the few chosen guests, cheer as I kiss my submissive and claim him.

  ‘Thank you, Master,’ Matt whispers.

  ‘And you are mine, now and for always?’

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  I smile. There is one last step to be taken to conclude our vows. ‘Prove it,’ I demand.

  Matt looks at me, and then at the group of people who have come to see our official collaring.

  ‘Now?’

  In answer, I push him to the floor, unbuckling my trousers to allow my cock to spring free.

  ‘You know what to do.’

  Matt lifts his head, and takes my cock into his mouth. He is hesitant; shyer than usual. He is not used to an audience. As I look down on him, I see the back of his neck is burning bright red around the new, silver, collar. I twist my fingers in his hair in encouragement, forcing him to take me in deeper, deeper.

  He is nearly choking as I hit the back of his throat, and I can see that he is embarrassed by the enthusiasm displayed by our friends. But at the same time, he cannot help but enjoy what he is doing; his own cock is leaping to attention. I thrust a booted foot between his legs to rub against his erection, and I can feel the hissed breath he takes around my cock.

  I have known him long enough to know what turns him on; and the smell of the leather, and of sex, has ever stirred his desire. I am struggling to hold on to my composure as he bobs in front of me, swirling his practised tongue around my erection. His mouth is hotter than ever, despite the audience – or maybe, because of it. Who knows? Perhaps Matt has discovered his inner exhibitionist. I suspect that I do not care as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing now.

&nbs
p; But I do not want to come here, like this. Difficult though it is to do, I pull away.

  ‘Good boy,’ I say approvingly, as he looks hopefully at me. I know what he is thinking, and this is his day, his and mine. ‘Yes, Matt,’ I nod.

  I reach down and unbutton his jeans, pushing them around his knees. He turns around for me, giving me a perfect view of his almost perfect arse.

  Jerome, wolf-whistling, throws me a tube of lubrication, and I smooth it over Matt’s hole, pressing first one, then two, then three fingers inside him. Finally, I kneel behind him, pushing my knob into him with gentle slowness. He loves me to be slow at first, but as I continue to move with teasing unhurried strokes, he groans. I know he wants to push back against me, to hump his hips and let me fuck him hard, but he is forbidden to move unless I allow it. I reach my hand (still slippery with lube) around him to grasp his cock and slide up and down with the same frustrating deliberateness, until neither of us can bear it any longer.

  Our guests are forgotten in our meeting of bodies; and I allow him to move now.

  ‘Come on, Matt, that’s right,’ I whisper in his ear. ‘Fuck yourself on me.’

  And he is panting and humping and thrusting back against me, as my fingers work faster on his cock. And he cries, ‘Please, Master!’ as I feel my own orgasm coming close. I come, in a medley of light and blackness, groaning my release. As my fingers touch Matt’s collar, he knows he is allowed the same response and his come is spurting through my fingers, as he covers the floor with his spunk.

  The audience is applauding, and I twist my submissive round to give him a kiss.

  ‘Yours,’ he mutters hotly.

  ‘Mine,’ I agree.

  Matt, my love, my slave, my submissive. Now and forever.

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