Becoming His Master

by M. Q. Barber

  Jay offered his own reward, a wide smile and relaxed musculature. Calm rather than apologetic panic. A true delight, and one he wished to see more often.

  He tugged Jay’s boxers down, discreet as he wiped his hands clean on the inside of the fabric. His submissive could go home without his boxers on, but it wouldn’t do to make a mess of his jeans and t-shirt. Hmm. Yes, perhaps he’d take Jay’s boxers home with him to launder alongside their sheets. The sparking thrill of the thought sent his cock thumping against his own boxers.

  He stripped his submissive and tossed the jeans toward one corner of the mat and the boxers toward another. A parting of the ways. Separate journeys lay ahead for the clothing, and for him and his boy as well.

  Hands clean, he lifted Jay’s shirt in a slow tease. “I believe your behavior deserves another new reward this night.”

  Jay raised his arms and ducked his head as the shirt came off, compliant and silent in the aftermath of his climax. His eyes, though, radiated love. Worship. Trust.

  A master could grow addicted to such things.

  “I’ve a task for you.” The shirt landed atop the jeans.

  Jay wiggled, an excited shudder his body couldn’t contain. “Thank you, Master Henry.”

  He clasped his partner’s hands and lifted them to his collar.

  “Undress me,” he commanded. “Down to the skin. And then we’ll see if we might reawaken your cock to play with mine.”

  The suggestion made Jay fumble at the button, but he recovered with speed. The gap between shirt halves widened in a steady rush to his waist, where Jay worked to open his belt and loosen his slacks before pulling the shirt free.

  “Well done,” he murmured. Mr. Kress took the care with his master’s clothes that he lacked with his own. An able assistant, easy to train, and one who paid clear attention to his master’s preferences.

  His slacks dropped to the sheets as Jay peeled his shirt from his back. Only his boxers remained, tented and swaying as his cock nudged the silk.

  Jay sank to his knees. His chest rippled. His exhalations grew into shuddering little sighs. He reached for his master’s boxers with reverent hands.

  The slow, silken tease brushed hyperawareness into his skin as the boxers dropped. Jay flicked his tongue between his lips. Not a hint of disobedience emerged despite his obvious desire to offer his favorite fantasy to his master.

  Henry gave his submissive space to gather the clothes and waited to see how he would respond.

  Jay’s gaze didn’t leave his cock.

  Erect and aching, fluid beading at the tip and slipping down the glans, beginning to slick his shaft, his cock waited for handling in a trimmed nest of walnut brown hair. The pre-pubescent shaved look had never appealed, but short hair was a courtesy and a necessity for the comfort of one’s partners and the ease of use for certain toys.

  Jay folded the clothes, darting glances between groin and garments in a sweetly comical show of desire. Unintentional, no doubt, but comical all the same. His uninhibited exuberance resembled nothing so much as a black Lab on a leash desperate to hear the snap of the metal unhooking and the deep warmth of his master’s command to fetch.

  He took care not to chuckle and sully the boy’s enjoyment of the moment.

  “Should I—” Jay knelt in a perfect waiting pose, his knees wide and his head bowed. He balanced the clothes across his arms like a gift. “Should I lay the clothes with your jacket, Master Henry?”

  “An insightful suggestion. Please do.” He continued his praise as his student rose to his feet and carried out his task. “Such a quick mind you have. I’m quite lucky to have you in my service.”

  “You are?” Clothes deposited, Jay paused at the edge of the mat.

  Beauty unparalleled, not only in the perfection of his youthful form but in the shining purity of his soul. Wise men would weep for such a vision. He’d be a fool to give it up.

  “I am.” He spread his arms and beckoned. “Come here to my embrace and share what else you enjoy. We’ve rewards yet, don’t we?”

  Jay flew into his arms in three sweeping strides.

  “Such boundless affection,” he murmured. His darling pet had never had his need met in return, never received the focused care of a proper master. “Tell me what you most wish. A secret wish. You may be certain I won’t tell another soul.”

  “I wish—” Jay nestled against his body.

  Stroking down the younger man’s back, tracing the strength of his spine, led his hand to the gentle curve above Jay’s buttocks. He held firm and leaned in with his hips. His cock rubbed Jay’s stomach.

  Jay’s answering twitch as he hardened thudded against his master’s abdomen.

  “I wish I wasn’t so—I wish this could be my life, Master Henry.” Jay buried his face in his shoulder. “All the time. Doing what you tell me to. I like when you’re all hard and growly and you hold me so tight.”

  “Yes.” The word escaped without forethought. To have Jay with him always, a constant source of joy flourishing under his dominance. A round-the-clock partner whose needs he’d judge for himself on a daily basis instead of playing catch-up at the end of each week.

  Pure fantasy. Unwarranted indulgence.

  He was the first master to show the boy kindness. Jay responded to his attitude, his careful demeanor, because he rejoiced in the blush of discovery. Jay’s love wasn’t for him but for the dominance he offered. In the hands of another, he might find the same satisfaction—or discover something he wanted more.

  “Yes,” he repeated, more measured. Wedging a hand between them, he stroked Jay’s cock with a quick squeeze that earned a whimper. “I see that you do, my good boy.”

  Jay would enjoy bondage. Not with rope or cuffs at the moment, but once his fears had been expunged. He was clear in his enjoyment of more physical dominance and excited by rough-but-loving handling. Likely that desire had led him to gravitate toward swaggering masculinity in search of a dominant.

  Lacking discernment, he’d fallen in with the crude, lesser expressions of dominance. In succeeding at sending Cal scurrying from the room, Henry had become the new alpha in the boy’s worldview. Reshaping that view to align with Jay’s inner nature provided a heady mix of power and pleasure. A mix he meant to control lest he damage the beauty he sought to protect and cultivate.

  “Give me your right hand.”

  Jay offered his hand willingly, and Henry guided it to his cock.

  Jay squirmed, hips shifting back as he bowed his head to look between their bodies.

  Henry tugged Jay back by his cock. Hard. Ready to seek pleasure again. The joys of youth.

  Realigning their grips, he positioned his submissive’s cock alongside his own and created an embrace with their hands. His other hand drifted lower and drove his sub forward.

  Jay yelped. Less panic than eager anticipation. Appreciation for how their bodies merged.

  The stimulation proved an exquisite enticement. He nipped at Jay’s jaw.

  “My pleasure is your pleasure tonight.” Rocking his hips, he thrust into the tight grip with slow care, cock sliding past Jay’s and back again. “I intend to fuck you just like this until your body is soaked in my scent and your chest is painted with proof of my joy.”

  Jay moaned, a sweet sound, a babbling brook of agreement.

  Pre-come slicked down and coated their palms, easing his passage. He quickened his pace. Five weeks he’d waited to come in Jay’s presence.

  “Do you feel the frenzy of delight humming under my skin?” The desire to mark the younger man as his own, to baptize him in ejaculate, pushed him to the edge. He rode the wild line between expectation and inevitability with the skill of long practice. “I feel it under yours, all of your excitement and concentration fixed between us at the place where my cock takes pleasure in yours.”

  He squeezed Jay’s ass, the taut muscles quivering.

  “Such a good boy not to disrupt his master’s rhythm. You needn’t thrust.” Orgasm pulse
d nearer. “This will be enough for us both.”

  Shaking, Jay fixed beautiful brown eyes on him.

  “Perhaps you’ll think of it during your homework and imagine the shape of your all-the-time submission.” He reached for a last push to bring his submissive with him, weaving Jay’s wish into a tapestry of fantasies to spark imagination and desire. “Will your master take his pleasure like this? Will he wake you in the morning with a command to suck him dry before work or offer you a bedtime treat?”

  Oh how it burned to say he and not I.

  Jay’s whimpering ratcheted to its penultimate expression. His release wouldn’t be stopped now.

  Neither would his master’s.

  “So many possibilities for pleasure,” he growled.

  The flash of heat overtook him. His cock jerked alongside Jay’s, spurting wet and thick, eclipsing the younger man’s emission a half-second later.

  He demanded a kiss with near bruising force, more of the roughness Jay had admitted he craved. When Jay had the courage to speak his desires as he had tonight, he would find them fulfilled.

  Heart rate slowing, Henry pulled back and peered down at the mess. Satisfying. A burst of ownership, no matter how temporary. He unwound Jay’s hand and his own, cocks bobbing without the support.

  Staring, Jay lifted his hand.

  Pride? Curiosity? His student’s intensity defied interpretation. Perhaps he’d never engaged in mutual masturbation this way.

  He touched Jay’s elbow, question poised on his lips.

  Fast as a lightning strike, Jay shoved his fingers in his mouth. He sucked his hand clean in seconds, with a shudder and a moan.

  Ah. Lust.

  “I’m sorry, Master Henry. I wanted to taste you so bad.”

  Pure need, followed in rapid succession by satisfaction and panic.

  “And next time, you’ll ask permission first.” Jay hadn’t broken a rule per se, and he’d at least seen evidence of his master’s clean bill of health, but he’d need a safety reminder regarding bodily fluids at the least. A general discussion might suit.

  He proffered his own hand. “I’ve towels for us in my kit, but you may taste your fill first. You’ve worked hard tonight, and you request so little of your master. Perhaps this is a reward you ought to add to your list. Something to ask for when you’re a good boy?”

  Jay nodded, his mouth occupied with cleaning.

  Wonderful. He’d slipped in the notion of negotiation with nary a peep. The younger man would take to the skill in time.

  Jay’s mouth on his fingers mimicked a slow, sweet blowjob. Some week soon, perhaps. He had alternate plans for their next week.

  Slipping his mouth off with a pop, Jay glanced at him.

  “Finished?”

  “I am if you want, Master Henry.” Jay’s gaze darted to his chest.

  “Go and fetch the towel from the top of my bag, and then come lie down.”

  His disappointment obvious but unchallenging, Jay trotted to the bag and retrieved the ivory cotton.

  Henry lowered himself to the sheets and lay on his back, a smile twitching at his lips. He patted the space beside him as his submissive approached. “Start with your tongue, my dear boy, and I’ll employ the towel.”

  Unfettered delight shone on Jay’s face. The broad midday smile.

  Henry cleaned his cock and balls with the towel, unwilling to risk giving rise to the temptation, and left his chest for his student. Tender swipes served to erase his claim on the younger man’s skin. Jay’s intimate bathing of his chest felt like a blessing.

  Kissing his companion afterward to demonstrate his lack of disgust with Jay’s desires, he tipped Jay onto his back. A slow roll perched him on his hip beside him. “I want us to discuss safety measures.”

  “Condoms?” Jay’s eyes gleamed.

  Eager for penetration, was he?

  “An excellent start, as you’ll want to protect yourself from potential infection in any scene involving penetration. I’m speaking of more general guidelines in this case.” He ruffled Jay’s hair. Longer than it had been five weeks ago. He shoved aside the impulse to claim a lock. “Precautions you might take if, for example, a dominant asked you to join him or her for play elsewhere.”

  “Like a hotel?”

  He nodded, though the sort of scene he feared Jay falling afoul of required more discretion than a thin hotel room wall provided. “Or their personal playroom, or a friend’s private dungeon.”

  Anywhere Jay would be vulnerable and alone in a stranger’s hands.

  “I’d ask—” Jay tipped his head, nudging.

  Henry obliged with another stroke through his hair.

  “I’d ask for a reference from a previous submissive?”

  “Good.” He traced the line of Jay’s neck to the curve of his shoulder. “What else?”

  “Meet somewhere safe first. Downstairs in the salon or at a coffee place or something, just to talk. Say what can and can’t happen.”

  “Lovely. You’ve been paying attention to your lessons.” Pressing his face to Jay’s neck, he inhaled the woody musk. “Tell me another.”

  He dotted Jay’s throat with kisses. Tender skin yielded under his lips.

  “Umm—I—” Jay squirmed. “I’m sorry, Master Henry. I can’t think of one.”

  “No, the apology is mine.” He lifted his head and pecked the younger man’s lips. “I’ve distracted you. Do you remember what I said about a safety call?”

  “That I should”—Jay sighed—“have a friend who knows where I’ll be and who’ll know what to do if I don’t call to say I’m safe by a certain time.”

  “Have you thought about a friend you might trust to ask?”

  Jay turned his face away. “No, Master Henry.”

  Henry rubbed his submissive’s chest. No matter the discomfort, allowing Jay to hide on a subject of safety would be unconscionable. “Why haven’t you obeyed me in this?”

  “I don’t—” He shrugged and whispered. “I don’t want anyone to know. What I am. What I do.”

  The pain pierced him. Shame still ruled his submissive. Shame of what they did together. Perhaps young Mr. Kress hated his master as much as he craved his control. “There’s no shame in what you are or how you conduct your sex life, Jay.”

  If the boy had no one else, could he force himself to answer that call? Knowing Jay had spent the time playing under another’s command?

  Yes. For Jay’s sake, and none other. His needs would never be ignored. “Submissive is not synonymous with whore.”

  Dead silence. A shiver rippled through the boy.

  Long minutes he waited, but Jay said nothing. Insight slithered like a snake in the grass. “Someone already knows, don’t they? Someone from your life outside the club.”

  The tight nod in return gripped his heart.

  “The guy who brought me here the first time.”

  “A friend?”

  “I thought so.”

  “Not now?”

  “He saw me.”

  Shame and a hint of despair. Had this friend brought Jay as his submissive or been a submissive himself, Jay would have no reason for upset. “Your dominant friend saw you acting as a submissive ought?”

  Another nod, but not even a twitch of hope at the idea that he’d been behaving properly. A deeper problem lay behind Jay’s concern.

  “How did he treat you afterward? Do you see him often?”

  “Almost every day,” Jay whispered. “We work out of the same office.”

  He curved his hand against the younger man’s cheek, a gentle but steady pull. “I want you to look at me, my brave boy.” He pitched his voice soft and low. Intimate. Private. “And I want you to tell me what he’s done.”

  “How, how do you know he did anything?” Jay’s quivering bravado begged for help.

  “Because I know you, dear boy, and I know others take advantage of your sweet nature.”

  “It was just—he’s been cracking on me, you know?” Jay had
n’t yet met his eyes. “Little jokes when nobody could hear. All the time.”

  “Did his offense end with the harassment?” The pressure of daily bullying might be enough to wear down Jay’s defenses, but the shame lay deeper still.

  “He—I let him—he said he’d tell everyone. They’d all know. Only once. I only did it once, Master Henry, I promise. I thought he’d stop if I did it once.”

  “Whatever you’ve done, it’s all right. Tell me what happened.”

  The younger man rolled onto his side and tucked himself against his master’s body. He huddled close, breath hot and fast against Henry’s chest. “I sucked him off.” Mumbled words, almost inaudible. “In the bathroom at work.”

  Curling his arm around his submissive’s back, Henry forced himself to remain calm. Anger wouldn’t help the boy. He threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of Jay’s neck and offered gentle, repetitive scratching. “Was that an act of submission you wanted to perform?”

  “No,” Jay shouted with a whisper. “I really like giving blowjobs, Master Henry. I do. It’s—you’re—it’s what I think about when I’m doing my homework. But not like that. I didn’t want to do it like that. I threw up after, and he said”—Jay shivered—“he said I was such a filthy little cockslut I should be used to the taste.”

  “Jay, this man,”—this worthless abuser who’d assaulted his sweet, fractured boy—“what is his name?”

  “Bryan. Bryan Talbot.”

  A familiar name. Dennis Talbot’s cousin or nephew, perhaps. Something to investigate later at the front desk. “This is the man who introduced you to this club?”

  “Yes, Master Henry.”

  “Then he ought to understand the inappropriateness of his conduct. If he approaches you again, I want you to tell him you are not allowed to engage in sexual activity of any kind without my permission.”

  “Not allowed.” Jay lifted his face and smiled before concern weighed on him. “What if he doesn’t believe me?”

  “Give him my name, tell him your submission to me is full time, and inform him he’s welcome to request a meeting with me at the club to negotiate your services.”