by Sean Michael
“I just… I couldn’t think. I’ve never done this before.”
“Not thinking is often the point.” He kept massaging, tried not to growl too much, though his voice was naturally that way.
“God, your hands feel good.”
Pretty boy. Tip found himself humming, rocking his boy. “So what was the draw for this fantasy?” he asked softly, needing to get Ben to open up more. Could they salvage this for the man?
“I just… When I jack off, I fantasize about losing control, about not having a choice.” Ben’s cheeks were painfully red.
He stroked one. “Nothing wrong with that. Fuck, loads of people live in that world. You don’t have to get kidnapped to make it work, though.”
Ben shrugged, hid from him. “It was just a whim.” A damned expensive whim.
“You don’t have to tell me, but you shouldn’t lie to yourself, boy.”
“It’s what I do.”
He tilted Ben’s face up, looking into the bruised eyes. “And how’s that working for you?”
“Makes me a fortune.” There was a wealth of exhaustion, of need in those eyes.
“Money.” He snorted. Sure it was important. It wasn’t everything.
Ben nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, this time your money got you me. And you’ve got three days left before they mount your ‘rescue’.”
Ben chuckled, and Tip thought the laugh sounded so sad. “You don’t think that it’s over now? Since I quit?”
“You paid for five days, man. I sincerely doubt they’re going to give you a refund. And you’re the boss in this little adventure, so if you want to change the terms of your fantasy, I’m game.” He grinned, winked. “Won’t be the kidnappee, but I’m otherwise pretty fucking open.”
Ben chuckled softly. “Is this your job? This sort of thing?”
“They pay me very well to come here a couple times a year and help fulfill someone’s fantasy. I’ve never had anyone like you, though.”
“No? What does that mean?”
He shrugged, feeling weird, admitting any sort of feelings to the client. “I wanted to make it extra special for you.” Maybe it was because Ben had been genuinely scared at the beginning.
“You are amazing. Can we… Can we rest for a little while?” Ben blinked at him, slowly. “I’ve never been so tired.”
“Sure. Let’s go out onto the porch, though. There’s a lovely day bed out there, and the waves make a great sedative.”
He cradled Ben against his chest and stood, bringing the man up with him. He cupped Ben’s hot, beaten ass, protecting it, caressing it.
There was a little fridge out there with water and juice. He thought there might even be some fruit. Ben could relax, sleep if he wanted, just rest if he didn’t. And they could see what came up, so to speak, once Ben had had a chance to breathe.
There was something magical about this man—something addictive. Something he was going to discover more about over the next few days that they had together.
He sat, curled up with Ben held close. His boy.
None of the others before this had been, but he knew, somehow, that Ben was.
****
Ben rested, slept, relaxed, then blessedly Master took him into the shower, washed him.
Ben’d asked what the man’s name was, but he’d only been given a quiet, hushing kiss as an answer. “Shush, boy.”
They didn’t get out of the shower right away, Master’s large body curled around his as Master helped the water sluice away the soap with his big hands. Something was going on between them, some game he wasn’t sure he knew the rules to, but it felt too good to stop.
Master touched him everywhere, hands on his balls, between his legs. He found himself moaning, spreading, swaying.
“Good boy.”
The low growl filled his ears, those hands staying there, rolling his balls and sliding on the skin behind them.
“Yes, Sir.” He was soaring.
One of Master’s thumbs pushed at his hole.
Oh. Oh. He moaned, hips rocking back.
“Greedy boy.” Master’s thumb breached Ben’s ass.
Ben spread a little wider, hands on the tiles of the shower.
“That’s right, boy. Spread your legs for me. Gonna fuck this tight little hole.” Master’s voice was a sexy, wonderful growl.
Fuck, that little endearment made him stupid, made his ass tilt back.
“Yeah, I know you want it.” Two thumbs spread him.
“Not a slut.” That was a lie.
Master laughed, thumbs pressing in and stretching him. The little burn was welcome, easy. So good. Master’s thumbs disappeared, fingers pushing in instead, hitting his gland. He stumbled forward, moaning low.
“Hold onto the wall, boy.”
“What?” He looked up, eyes finding the hooks embedded in the walls. “Oh, God.”
“Master will do.”
He looked over, unexpectedly tickled. “Making jokes with your fingers in my ass?”
“Never a better time for it, boy.”
He chuckled, fingers wrapping around the hooks. Master’s fingers disappeared, a light spank landing on his ass, making it ache. And this time, the blow made his cock throb.
“You ready for me, boy? Ready to feel my cock spreading you wide?”
“Yes.”
Another blow hit his ass.
“Yes, please.”
And again Master’s hand came down.
“Fuck!” He let go of the hooks, hands covering his butt.
“You forgot a word, boy.” Master dragged his hands away, and the hard, thick cock rubbed against his ass.
“Please. I said please!”
“You don’t have to say please, you just need to remember to call me Master, hmm?”
“Master. Master, please. I need.” God, he could get on his knees and beg.
“Well done, boy.” Master backed off a bit, then that thick cock was pressed against his hole. “Take me in.”
“Yes, Master. Yes.” Oh, God. So thick. So hard. So good. He bore down, but the man’s cock was thick, bigger than any he’d taken before.
The large hands wrapped around his hips. “Grab the wall, boy.”
“Uh. Uh-huh.” He couldn’t catch his breath.
Once he’d grabbed the hooks again, those hands tugged his ass backward, the thick cock splitting him open.
“Oh…” His body went tight, jerked, clenched down hard.
Master stopped, one hand leaving his hip to pat his belly, to rub. “Easy, boy.”
“Big. Been…a long time.”
“You can take me. Just breathe.”
He whimpered, sucked in a shaky breath.
“And another one.”
Okay. Okay, he could do that. He could.
“Good boy.” Master pushed in another bit.
“Full.”
“Not yet you’re not.”
Oh, he was. He so was.
Master pushed in some more, spreading him so wide. He gasped, fighting for air, for space inside him.
“Keep breathing, boy. I know you can take me.”
“Big,” he panted. “Full.”
Master patted his hip. “You love it.”
His body clenched down, and Master grunted, teeth sharp on his shoulder.
“Breathe, boy. Just fucking breathe.”
Breathe. Right. He sucked in a shaky breath.
Master smacked his ass. “Another one, boy.”
Fuck. Fuck. He managed another, lungs filling.
“Keep breathing.”
He nodded. Right. Keep breathing.
The thick cock pulled out a little, then pushed back in. Then Master rocked again. Oh, God. Oh, God. He moaned, the pressure just perfect. Ma
ster rocked yet again, going a little deeper this time. His body accepted it, accepted that fat, heavy cock.
Master kept pushing in, going deeper each time, until finally those hips smacked against his tender ass with every thrust.
“Oh.” He’d done it. He’d taken Master in.
Master hummed, patted his hip. His asshole clenched, his body working the massive cock inside him.
One of his nipples was pinched, then the other one. Oh. That made him shift, made him move on Master’s erection. The pinches came again, Master’s cock punching in hard.
“Yeah…” He moaned the word, ass meeting the next thrust.
“That’s it, boy.” Master’s hands landed on his hips, tugged him into the next thrust.
“Master.” Every inch of that cock filled him.
“That’s right, boy.”
The thrusts kept coming, filling him. When that cock hit his gland, he screamed.
“Right there, boy. Right there.” Master rocked them together, hitting that spot every time.
There. Oh, fuck. Don’t stop.
Master didn’t. In fact, the thrusts got stronger, faster. All Ben could do was hold on, fight to breathe and not fall. Finally, Master’s hand wrapped around his cock, pulling in time with the thrusts into his ass. The pleasure to his cock was secondary to the pressure in his ass.
The noise of their coming together was loud in the spray of the shower, Master’s hips hitting his ass hard. He barked out his pleasure, his seed painting the side of the shower.
“Fuck! Yes!” Master shouted, bucking hard into him.
The pressure made his flesh jerk weakly.
“Mmm. Such a good boy.”
Master pressed against his back, leaning on him. Ben moaned softly, holding the weight. One of Master’s hands slid over his belly, stroking.
“Master.” He whispered the word.
“Right here, boy. Right here.”
The easiest thing ever was to let the man hold him, rock him.
The water beat down around them, hot and good.
Ben thought he could stay, right there, forever.
Tip got Ben out of the shower then dried him and carried him out to the day bed on the veranda. The waves were rushing against the shore, the sound a great backdrop to the lovely sunset. He wanted Ben to enjoy the last few days of his fantasy.
It was more than that, really. He felt protective of Ben. He felt like Ben belonged to him.
Ben curled into his embrace, cheek on his shoulder, breath soft against his throat. He thought maybe he dozed as well, tired after the tears and the drama and the taking.
When he woke up, the sun was setting again, and Ben was sitting on the edge of the veranda, laughing at a pair of birds playing in the surf. Tip stretched and got up, padding over to where Ben sat. He settled next to the man.
“Hey. Good nap?”
“Yeah. I hadn’t had much sleep.” He gave Ben a wink. “It’s tiring work, kidnapping someone.”
“It was scary, at first. I didn’t know it was the fantasy.”
“That’s what you wanted, though, wasn’t it? Something as close to real as possible?” That was how it had been presented to Tip.
“Yes. Yes, I just didn’t think.” Ben chuckled softly. “It’s a vice. I was curious. I’ll know now, for the next book.”
“You’re really a writer?” That seemed to fit, somehow.
“I am. Thrillers.”
“Man, you need to be careful getting first-hand experience on some of the stuff in those.” He nudged Ben’s shoulder. “I bet I could help you get at least a feel for a lot of it, though. You could tell me what you’re writing, and I could make it happen. More or less. Without, you know, mutilating you or anything.”
“Mutilation would be bad.”
Chuckling, he put an arm around Ben. “It would be. I’m good at whips, chains, ropes, autoerotic asphyxiation, though. And other stuff like that.”
It took Ben a long time to respond. “It scares me, how excited you make me.”
“You think it’s me or the situation?” Tip had a hunch it was him specifically. Not that he thought he was god’s gift, but he didn’t think it would be so scary if it was just anyone.
“You’re not the first man I’ve bottomed for. No one else was you.”
Tip couldn’t help but puff up a little at that. The thing was, he wanted it to be him. “I’m glad I excite you.”
“It’s not just that.” Ben stood, started pacing a little bit.
“Then tell me.” He watched the lean lines as Ben paced, the man’s muscles working.
“It’s… I don’t know how.”
He stood and stalked over to Ben, being aggressive about it. “No?” He could see Ben responding, the cock hidden under the towel jerking. Sweet slut boy. He backed Ben up to the side of the house. “You know. You’re just scared to vocalize it.”
Those pretty eyes searched his. Sweet, needy subby boy.
He wrapped a hand around the back of Ben’s head, tilting Ben’s head back. Bending, he took a kiss. He plundered his boy’s lips, reminding Ben who was the boss, who was in charge. He fucked the sweet lips, his hips pushing with the same rhythm, rubbing their middles together.
Ben’s towel slipped away, baring the sweet ass. He grabbed at it, fingers digging into the rosy flesh. It was still hot, still burning from his hand. He bit at Ben’s lip, then soothed it by sucking softly. Ben moaned, opened, melting for him.
He broke the kiss off, looking into Ben’s eyes.
“I… I want more, Master. Please.”
He grabbed Ben’s hands and tugged them up over his head. “Good boy.” He watched the effect his words had on Ben, watched the pretty body arch and flush.
Turning his moan into a growl, he took Ben’s mouth again, his fingers digging into Ben’s wrist as he held them high. Ben opened eagerly, sucking his tongue, arching into him.
He grabbed hold of Ben’s ass again and lifted him clean off the ground, letting Ben feel his strength, the power of his muscles. Those lean arms wrapped around his shoulders and held on. Tip carried Ben back to the day bed and laid him out.
His boy. Tip liked that thought. He liked it a lot. “You’re like a feast, boy. All laid out for me.”
“A feast?” Ben’s smile was almost gentle. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“Someone should have, because you are.” He knelt on the bed next to Ben and ran his hands randomly over the warm skin.
Ben stretched beautifully, arching under his touch. He pressed harder, fingers digging in here and there.
“What do you want me to do?” Ben sounded breathless.
“I want you to reach up and grab the headboard and hold onto it.”
“Okay.”
He stared at Ben, who stuttered, “Y-yes, Sir. Master. Yes.”
He smiled and nodded. “Good boy.”
The air between them was as thick as syrup, the electricity heady. He reached for one swollen nipple and pinched it. Ben groaned, body rippling in something that looked very much like an orgasm. Groaning, Tip leaned in and took the same nipple into his mouth. The bruised, swollen nub of flesh pushed into his lips, between his teeth. He bit down, flicked the very tip with his tongue.
“Yes…” Ben’s voice was a sob.
So sweet. He bit down again.
“Hurts.” Of course, and Ben was loving it.
He flicked it one last time with his tongue before moving over to the other one, gnawing it, too. He closed his teeth down hard, tugged the tip of Ben’s nipple until his boy cried out, hands landing on his head. Oh, no. He’d told Ben to hold onto the headboard.
He growled, smacked one hip. “Hands up!”
“What? Fuck!” Ben jerked, cried out as he smacked again.
“I told you to hold o
nto the headboard and not to let go, boy.”
“Sorry. Sorry.”
He kept smacking Ben, steadily, surely, working Ben until those hands went up.
He smacked Ben one more time and smiled. “Good boy.”
Ben’s breath was hitching, eyes glassy. “Th-th-thank you, Master.”
Tip smiled. “Very good boy.”
He turned his attention back to Ben’s right nipple, blowing across it. He wanted them so sensitive that the wind was unbearable, that he could brush one with his finger and make his boy sob, twist. He licked and nibbled one with his lips, then took it between his teeth. Ben’s breath hitched, and Ben’s long fingers twisted around the headboard.
Nodding, he bit down.
“Fuck!” Ben’s legs curled up, knocked into him.
Growling, he tugged on Ben’s nipple, pulling the skin up. He sucked, bit, sucked again. He pulled on the sweet nipple, flicked across the tip, changed it up over and over to keep the sensations sharp for Ben. Ben’s cries filled the air, his boy twisting underneath him. He wasn’t done yet, though. Nowhere close. He scraped his teeth over the right nipple. Then did it again.
“Stop. Oh, fuck. Burns.”
He bit again, then blew. Ben twisted, hands threatening to let go. He growled a little in warning, knowing Ben’s nipples were sensitive enough now that even the vibrations from his vocalization would zing through him.
“Oh, God. Master. Master, I can’t…”
“You can. You will.”
Ben didn’t seem to have the vaguest clue about what he could be. Hell, the man thought he was still playing out a fantasy—he had no idea this could be real.
“God, it burns.” Still, Ben stayed where he was.
“You’re going to feel it for days.” He moved to the other nipple, teased it with only the tip of his tongue for a few moments.
“Want to feel you longer than that.”
He nodded. Yeah. Three days was starting to feel like a few million too few. Then he bit down hard. Ben screamed, hands landing on his head, cum spraying between them. He felt like a million fucking bucks, being able to make Ben come from just nipple play.
“Master.” Ben was still moving, still flying.
“Yeah. Right here.” He sucked Ben’s nipple into his mouth, working it between his lips.
Ben’s cries were constant, desperate, pretty body jerking restlessly under him. He simply continued to bite and lick and suck, wanting Ben totally inside out.