Bi Now, Gay Later
Page 1
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Bi Now, Gay Later
ISBN # 978-0-85715-120-9
©Copyright Kim Dare 2010
Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright April 2010
Edited by Christine Riley
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way
, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom
.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
Perfect Timing
BI NOW, GAY LATER
Kim Dare
Dedication
To accepting people for who they really are.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:
Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Chapter One
“Do you reckon he spends a lot of time thinking about having sex with women?”
Denton Greenwood’s lips quirked into an amused little smile as he turned to his friend. “I have no idea who you’re talking about. But, since we’re in a gay bar, I’ll go out on a limb and guess that no one in here spends a lot of time thinking about doing anything with a woman.”
“Jerry’s not gay though, is he?” Peter pointed out. “He’s bi.”
Denton’s fingers tightened around his glass as his eyes automatically sought out a blond head of hair in the crowd. Someone stepped to one side. Jerry came into view. “He’s not bi.”
“He says he’s bi.” Peter drained his glass and put it clumsily on the little table between their leather arm chairs. “Do you think that means he thinks about screwing women as often as he thinks about screwing men?”
Denton clenched his jaw as he watched Jerry nod his agreement with whatever the man standing next to him was saying. “He’s gay.”
Peter shook his head. “He says he’s bi. He should know.”
“I am his master,” Denton snapped. “I know which way my lover swings, and Jerry is as gay as any man in this bar.”
Even on his eighth pint, Peter seemed to realise he’d hit a nerve. “How’s it working out between…?” he trailed off.
Denton continued to watch his lover speaking to some of his friends, all of them other collared submissives, on the opposite side of the room.
“Everything’s fine,” he snapped. It didn’t sound like it when he bit the words out like that, but it was the truth.
In the months since Jerry had come under his protection, the younger man had turned out to be a damn near perfect match for him.
“He seems to have come into his own since you gave him his permanent collar,” Peter offered.
Denton nodded. That was true too. He’d never guessed that the stunning, if rather tentative, submissive who had first come to his attention would thrive so well under his rules and discipline, but Jerry had a way of wrapping rules around himself as if they were a comforting blanket, and taking every limitation his master put upon him as a gift. And, more than any of that, he had a way of throwing himself so wholeheartedly into his submission that the idea of letting him go had quickly become unthinkable.
As loath as Denton was to act soppy for anyone, even Jerry, he could just about admit that the submissive was the only one of his lovers he had ever actually fallen in love with. As long as they were alone and not doing anything overtly romantic at the time of any such admission, of course. A dominant had to hold on to some sort of standards. He wasn’t so far gone that he was willing to shout it from the roof tops or let heart toting teddy bears worm their way into his life.
Denton held back a sigh. Damn near perfect, was all well and good. But knowing his lover could be completely perfect if he would just admit he was gay just made it all the more difficult to accept the younger man’s stubborn insistence that he was bisexual with every day that passed. To feel perfection there, waiting just out of his reach, it was like a persistent itch at the back of Denton’s neck.
Trying to push the issue out of his mind, the way he had so many times before, he ran his eyes down Jerry’s body. It wasn’t an easy task when so much of his lover’s skin was concealed from him. For an absolutely gorgeous man, he was sweetly shy about his skin being put on display before anyone but his master. His inclination to hide himself away behind jeans and a long sleeve t-shirts whenever Denton hadn’t made a point of ordering him into something different was damn near a fetish.
Right then Denton couldn’t manage to smile indulgently at Jerry’s bashfulness the way he usually did. Jerry was his—all of him, and he wasn’t inclined to accept any part of his lover not being visible and available to him at that moment. He wasn’t about to just sit around watching while Jerry’s attention moved from one submissive to another and never once turned towards his master.
Rising from his chair, he left his friend sitting with the other dominants as he marched across the room. The moment he put his hand on Jerry’s shoulder the younger man tensed. As he turned to face Denton, he realised exactly who was laying a hand on him and his expression morphed into a welcoming smile.
“May I serve you, master?”
“We’re leaving. Is there anyone you need to say goodbye to?”
He saw Jerry cast a brief glance at the man he’d been speaking to. A silent understanding passed from one submissive to the other. Jerry shook his head. “No, master.”
“Fetch our coats.”
“Yes, master.” Jerry turned and walked away through the crowd.
Denton watched him until he stepped out of sight before he turned his attention back to the man Jerry had been speaking to. He had something of the look of Jerry about him, the same blond hair and blue eyes, the same lightly muscled frame. He looked up and met Denton’s eye, before looking quickly down again.
“You belong to Phillips.” Denton cast around for a name. Phillips went through a hell of a lot of submissives in very quick succession. It made it bloody difficult to keep track. “It’s Michael, right?”
“Yes, sir,” the man said, after a tiny hesitation.
Denton raised an eyebrow, sure he’d managed to dredge up the right name.
“I’m still under his protection, sir, but Mr. Phillips is looking for a new master for me. He’s decided that we do not suit well enough to make his arrangement with me a permanent one.”
Denton caught Michael’s eye as he risked another glance up. For all the submissive’s carefully worded language, it was obviously a mutual decision. Denton had a vague memory of Peter saying something about them deciding to part ways because Michael wanted a more old fashioned style of mastery. Or maybe not. After a while all his friend’s gossip blurred together.
Jerry came back to his side, holding their coats and neatly savi
ng him from having to think of something suitable to say to Michael. Denton nodded his dismissal to Phillips’ submissive. “Tell your master I send him my regards.”
“Yes, sir,” Michael said, smiling his goodbye to Jerry as he turned his attention to another of his friends standing nearby.
Denton took his coat from his submissive. By the time he shrugged his shoulders and felt his leather jacket settle comfortably around his body, he was already on his way out of the club. Jerry seemed taken off guard by his sudden departure. He was still pulling his smaller jacket on when he caught up with him at the door to the club.
If Phillips’ lover had been anything other than a perfectly unobjectionable submissive, Denton knew he would have latched on to Jerry’s conversation with him as an excuse. As it was, he gave no reason for the tight grip he took on his pet’s wrist as they stepped into the night air.
Striding briskly across the car park, he only just shortened his stride enough to let Jerry’s shorter legs keep pace with him. As they stopped by his car, Denton heard the change in his submissive’s breathing as it sped up in anticipation. The younger man had obviously recognised his master’s altered mood and what it meant. His pulse fluttered faster under Denton’s grip around his wrist. He glanced up at his master, waiting for the first order, for the scene to start in earnest.
“Strip.”
Denton let go of his wrist and stepped in front of him, shielding him from the sight of anyone else who might choose that moment to leave the club. Jerry didn’t even glance towards the club door before he shrugged his jacket back off. All his attention was focused on his master. Knowing that soothed Denton’s instinct to display his possession of his lover a fraction, but it wasn’t near enough to quell it.
Jerry looked to him for further instruction. Denton held out a hand to receive the jacket. The moment his hands were free, Jerry reached for the hem of his long sleeve t-shirt. Pulling the thin material over his head, he folded it neatly and handed it over. Lowering himself to each knee in turn, his pet began to pull his boots and socks off.
Denton managed to look away from his lover for long enough to scan the rough concrete and check there was nothing on the ground that might cut his feet, but his focus reverted entirely to Jerry as the younger man gave up his footwear to his master. Without any sign of doubt or hesitation, Jerry’s hand went to his fly. The black denim was soon pushed down, taking his boxers with them. He folded and surrendered them without comment.
As Denton studied him, a shiver ran through the younger man’s body. If Denton was any judge, that had far more to do with nervous excitement than the cool air filling the car park. Jerry was already starting to harden very pleasingly for his master.
Opening the car door, Denton tossed his pet’s clothes onto the back seat. Slamming the door again, he turned back to his lover and looked him over very slowly. A simple hand gesture ordered the submissive to turn around.
“Hands on the back of your head.”
Jerry raised his hands and laced his fingers on the back of his head, presenting himself for a thorough inspection as he made another slow revolution in front of his master.
Only a tiny patch of Jerry’s skin was hidden from him now, that little strip that lay under his collar. Denton tucked his fingers under the black leather and ran his knuckles all the way around Jerry’s neck so no bit of him remained unexamined, untouched by his master’s hands or eyes .
A door banged behind them. Men called to each other, laughing and yelling their goodbyes as they left the club. Jerry looked up and met Denton’s eyes, making a point of not looking at the other men, of not trying to work out if he was exposed to them or not.
A sweet little blush crept to his cheeks, but his hands stayed on the back of his head while Denton kept his fingers tucked under his collar and held his gaze.
Somewhere at the other end of the car park, someone started a car and drove away. A minute later another car drove off. Denton kept Jerry standing there as silence filled the air once more, daring him to object, to look away, to do anything other than follow his master’s orders.
He waited for any sign of weakness from his submissive, any hint of disobedience. He searched for any indication that Jerry didn’t belong to him in every way one man could belong to another, that he didn’t trust him to take complete and perfect care of any man under his protection.
“May I serve you, master?” Jerry asked softly, his eyes flickering here and there as he searched Denton’s face for any indication of how he could please him.
A man couldn’t find sign of disobedience where it didn’t exist. Denton nodded, just once, allowing his submissive a tiny moment of praise before he opened the front passenger side door. “Get in. Keep your hands where they are.”
Jerry got carefully into the seat, his hands still glued to his scalp. Denton slammed the car door and quickly strode around to his own side of the vehicle.
Sliding in behind the driver’s seat he spared a quick glance at his submissive, debating the merits of letting Jerry move his hands to do up his seatbelt, over doing the job himself.
The question faded from his mind as the brief glance turned into a more detailed study. He looked his pet over very slowly, taking in every gorgeous detail.
It was always easier to smile at Jerry’s persistent inclination towards modesty in public when they were alone, when he’d been stripped down to be admired in private. There was a part of him that loved knowing every bit of Jerry’s body belonged to him and no one else, that no one else even got to look at him. But, for once, abstract knowledge of possession wasn’t enough to satisfy him. As pretty as they were, displays of physical possession didn’t feel like enough, either.
“Legs wider,” he ordered, automatically correcting his lover’s posture while he searched his mind for something, anything, that might fix the uncontrolled spiral of emotions whirling inside him.
Jerry spread his knees as far apart as he could while still allowing room for his master to change gears once they set off. Denton looked him over again. His pet had hardened further. His erection was starting to rise and curve back towards his stomach. Denton nodded to himself, pleased that Jerry was so quick to enjoy a scene that was far more to his master’s taste than his own.
“Mouth open.”
Jerry licked his lips and parted them slightly.
Fully exposed, fully accessible, offering himself freely to his master to do with as he pleased, he looked just as fantastic a submissive as Denton knew he was. It wasn’t fair to treat him as if he was anything less than that, just because he was annoyed with a situation that was just as much his fault as Jerry’s. If he wanted him to be perfect, it was his job as the master in their relationship to see that his pet came out of the closet properly.
Tucking a knuckle under his pet’s chin, Denton guided him to turn to face his master. Although he was still hard, Jerry also seemed wary now, as if he knew something was wrong in his master’s world, but couldn’t work out what.
Leaning across the car, Denton brought their lips together. He’d intended it to be a quick moment of reassurance, just to let Jerry know that his master had realised what the problem was, and would see that it was fixed. That idea disintegrated the moment their mouths touched.
Denton slid his other hand into Jerry’s hair, brushing his pet’s hands away from the back of his head so he had free reign to tangle his own fingers in the thick, blond strands and tilt Jerry’s head back so he could taste his parted lips properly.
There was no room for pretence. He took possession of the younger man’s mouth, dragging a whimper out of him as Jerry instinctively acknowledged his master’s ownership of him.
Denton tightened his grip, pulling Jerry forward until he knew his pet would realise his master no longer expected him to maintain the position he’d ordered him to assume less than a minute earlier. Jerry got the hint. He leaned into the kiss, offering everything to his master as easily and as instinctively as anyone ever could.
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Even with need to possess and dominate pounding though him, part of Denton was still in control enough to study the scene as if from the outside looking in. That part of him which always tried to watch each scene from a distance so he could make the tough decisions objectively, nodded its head as it realised a tipping point had been reached.
Every bit of Jerry belonged to him. There could be no more doubts about that. There could be no more half measures or half labels. Complete perfection wasn’t going to wait any longer.
Denton felt something click into place inside him. The uncomfortable feeling that had grown within him every time he heard the word bi began to ease. In hindsight, the sensible half of him could only conclude that it was a miracle that the other side of him, the side of him that wanted to own, to possess, to love without boundary or restraint, had managed to pretend that Jerry’s insistence on the bi label was only a mild annoyance for so long.
Denton broke the kiss as suddenly as he’d initiated it. Pulling back, he stared down at his lover. The world inside his head might have changed, but his pet was the same as ever. Jerry blinked and stared up at him, his breaths coming in pants as he licked his lips and stole a final taste of his master’s kiss.
Their gazes locked together and Jerry didn’t seem to be able to look away. He looked so wide-eyed and dazed, so flawless. And he was flawless, Denton reminded himself. All Jerry had to do was finish coming out, and it would be official.
Minutes passed. Jerry dropped his gaze. His hands had been free to do as they pleased since Denton pushed them out of his hair. He reached out to his master and put his hand on his thigh, very close to the bulge of his erection behind the denim. “May I, master?”
The words hung in the air between them.