Cocklust Ch. 29

My first few days working for Thaxter went just as I'd expected. I had to do everything from bussing tables to taking orders to running cards, basically the same work I'd been doing before. The main difference was the atmosphere, which of course was very gay. Thaxter wanted to cater to every kind of mo, from leather bears to drag queens to everything in between. It made for a hell of a work environment. Some guys were so over-the-top that they made me feel completely straight by comparison.

Every day we went through the same basic drill. For the first few hours after we opened, we'd mostly serve guys who were just there to hang out. The later it got, the more you'd start seeing couples on dates, or bigger groups of friends coming to party. The rowdiest time of all was late at night, when we'd have strip shows and other special events, which brought the horny drunks out of the woodwork. They kept making passes at each other, and at the performers, and at us staff. By the time we closed every night, we were always exhausted.

It wasn't long before Thaxter asked me to help out behind the bar. I hadn't really expected that, since I was so new; but he was stretched thin and I wasn't about to complain. The part that made me nervous was how many of the bartenders worked shirtless. They did it voluntarily, and I'd been in enough gay bars to know this wasn't unusual. I liked to think I was in good shape, though I wasn't sure how my body stacked up to the go-go dancers, strippers, and other ripped guys around me. Still, I figured I had nothing to lose, so I might as well try to fit in. Sure enough, on my first shift working topless, I got way better tips. I also got a few catcalls, which I didn't know how to take. Part of me was flattered, though part of me was grossed out; the most aggressive guys were usually the slimiest. To say nothing of the fact I was taken.

When I did have time off, I naturally wanted to spend it with Chad. But it turned out to be easier said than done. Since Chad worked at a congressional office, he mostly had to operate on Washington time, which was three hours ahead of San Diego. He had to get up early every morning, at an hour when I was always asleep. If I was lucky, he might get home before I had to leave for my shift, but most days we missed each other. He was mostly only free late at nights and on weekends— which was right when I had to work. By the time I got home, he was invariably in bed.

I usually ended up jacking off in the bathroom. It wasn't ideal, but under the circumstances, I knew I needed a release. I didn't want Chad to feel guilty or whatever, so I made sure to cover my tracks. I forced myself to stay quiet: I just sat on the toilet while I pounded my pud. I tried to cum as fast as I could, to avoid any suspicion. Then, after I finished, I brushed my teeth and went to bed. I usually snuggled up to Chad's unconscious body, though I had to be careful: sometimes my dick was still hard, so I had to make sure he wouldn't feel it. Then I held him tight as I drifted off to sleep.

I found myself counting the hours till Saturday and Sunday mornings. I knew I'd be tired then, since the nights before were the busiest times of my week. But I almost didn't care, since those were main times we could really be together. I was determined to make the most of them, so I swore we'd fuck each other's brains out. I couldn't help wishing we'd brought our sex toys with us— we'd left them at our apartment— but I told myself we'd make do. After all, I thought, we could still experiment any number of ways. It was just too bad that we always seemed rushed.

"Hey," Thaxter said. "Earth to Scott."

I blinked and turned around. I was standing behind the bar, but at that particular moment, we just had a trickle of customers. "O-oh sorry," I said.

"Is something on your mind?"

"No, it's cool," I replied. I didn't want to tell him I was thinking of sex with my boyfriend.

"Uh-huh," Thaxter said. He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. "You know, as quiet as it is, you should probably clock out. At least for now."

"Okay sure," I replied. I wasn't thrilled at that thought, since I needed all the money I could get. But then again, this was part of what I'd signed up for, and Thaxter did warn me about this beforehand. I suspected the business would pick up later, so I didn't want to venture too far. I just retreated to the private parts of the building.

I ended up browsing through the backstage areas, which were full of all sorts of props. A lot of them were just random knickknacks, but some of them did pique my interest. I found a bunch of masks and blindfolds, along with collars and leashes. I also went through a trove of cock pumps, nipple clamps, hog ties, and other paraphernalia. Some of these things I didn't even recognize; I assumed they were used for something kinky, though I didn't know what.

I picked up a chest harness, held it in my hands for a minute, then slid it over my shoulders. Since I was already shirtless, the metal buckles felt cold against my skin, at least for the moment. I adjusted the straps till they were tight across my pecs. Then I picked up a collar and fastened it around my neck. Finally I looked in a mirror and turned my body around.

I had to admit, it was a helluva sight. Up until recently, I'd never imagined myself dressing like that. It was so out there, so stereotypically gay, that I'd never thought it might be up my alley. At the same time, I was kind of tempted to go back behind the bar in that outfit, just to gauge the reaction I might get.

I also considered taking these toys home to Chad, so we could explore our kinky sides some more. I didn't want to get in trouble, so I figured I'd need to keep it secret from Thaxter. It was hard to gauge tell if it was really worth the risk. After all, Chad and I had some pretty incredible sex one-on-one, without any special gear at all. The add-ons were really just icing on the cake. At least that was my opinion, though I realized Chad had as much to say about it as I did.

I was trying to decide what to do when I heard some voices nearby. I took off the harness, along with the collar, and I tried to sneak away. But I'd just gone a few steps when I heard the words: "Oh fuck yeah." Then: "hey Mason, look who it is."

I froze in my tracks. That voice belonged to the twins, Mason and Madison, who Chad and I had hooked up with months before. I'd actually forgotten that they worked there. It took me a second to realize what that meant. I now had co-workers who'd slept with both me and my boyfriend.

"O-oh hi," I said as I turned around, and I tried to act casual. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, no kidding," Madison said. "What brings you back here?"

"I, well… I work here now."

"No shit! Are you going onstage?"

"You mean as a stripper?" As soon as I said that, I realized I sounded too dismissive. After all, both Mason and Madison were strippers themselves. "I-I mean I'm just working the front of the house. Right now I'm on break—"

"That's too bad. I was hoping we'd get to see a show."

I licked my lips. I felt like saying: Haven't you already seen it? But those words got caught in my throat.

"Are you still with that boyfriend of yours?" Mason asked.

"Chad? Yeah, we're still together—"

"I thought his name was Charles?"

Aw shit, I thought. I didn't want to admit we'd used fake names with these guys. But I also didn't know if I could keep the charade going, since all my other co-workers knew me by my real name.

"You know," Madison said, "we had a good time that night. We were hoping to see you guys again."

I bet, was all I could think. I had to admit we'd had a hell of an experience with them. I could never forget the sight of Chad sucking Madison's dick while I was sucking Mason's. Not to mention the feeling of Madison inside me while Chad pounded Mason beside us. I didn't necessarily regret what we'd done, but then again, there were plenty of reasons why Chad and I had never done that again. "Well," I said, "we've been busy—"

"Welcome to the club," Mason said.

"You've got to admit," Madison said, "you did kind of ghost us."

"Sorry about that," I said. "I mean, we had to go back to school. At least now we'll be here all summer." Before I even finished my sentence, I knew I'd said too much. I didn't want to give these guys ideas, but it was too late.

"That's cool," Madison said. "You know, maybe if you have time… you should come over. Whenever you can. That goes for both of you."

I was under no illusions about what he really meant. After all, it was the same invite he'd extended before— and we all knew how that had gone. "Thanks man," was the most diplomatic response I could think of. "I'll let him know."

"Sweet," he replied.

I knew I had to change the subject, but just then my phone buzzed with a text. I jumped to answer it, and I saw it was from Chad.

I just talked to Pam, he wrote. She's doing a thing for Dad's birthday. Any chance you can get the 26th off?

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. This was the perfect excuse to break off the conversation. "Sorry guys," I said, "but I gotta run. I'll see you around, okay?"

"No worries," Madison said. "You know where to find us."

I nodded and headed back toward the bar. As I walked, I texted back to Chad: That's a Sunday, right?

Yeah, was his response.

I'll see what I can do, I wrote. Will need to get someone to cover my shift.

Cool, he replied. Mom says she can't make it, and Patrick was just there, so I kind of feel like it's my turn to go.

I chewed my lip for a moment. I sent him a heart emoji, but I had a lot of mixed feelings right then. I worried that we were getting roped into drama, in more than one front. But it didn't seem right to talk about it over text. I resolved to wait till we could properly discuss it. Then I took a deep breath and put away my phone.

As I expected, the store had gotten busier in the time I'd been on break. Lo and behold, Thaxter had learned some of the lessons I'd taught him. He'd started to get the hang of social media, and he'd done a bunch of posts to lure in customers. Early indications were that it seemed to be working.

"Hey Scott," Thaxter said, "here's someone you should probably meet." He gestured toward a guy with curly brown hair. "This is Jean-Jacques."

"Hey man," I said. "I'm Scott."

Jean-Jacques shook my hand. "Hello."

"He says he found us online," Thaxter said. "Apparently he's got quite the following of his own."

"Really? Do tell."

"I'm a fashion photographer." He handed over his phone, which was open to Instagram.

I looked down and started scrolling through his posts. My first thought was that "fashion" wasn't the right word. His models were hardly wearing clothing at all; they were mostly in underwear or sometimes even just jewelry. Still, the pics made for great eye candy— I saw some beautiful bare butts and thighs— and they'd gotten him more than a hundred thousand followers.

"I have other pictures too," he said, "though I can't post them on Instagram. So many in this country can be— what's the word? Prudes."

"That's what this bar is for," Thaxter said. "Scott's heard my soapbox plenty of times."

"Well," I said, "one way or another, these pictures are hot." I was about to say something else when I recognized one of the faces. "You've worked with Flynn Taylor?"

"Many times. You like him?"

"I…" I debated how to answer. I didn't want to tell him he was Chad's favorite porn star. "Yeah, I mean he's cool."

"He'll be around next month. He'll be performing at the Cockpit."

"No shit?"

"Do you want to meet him?"

"I… well sure, if I can." I was trying to play my cards carefully. Jean-Jacques seemed like a cool guy, so I didn't want to come across as over-excited. Selfishly, I knew he could be useful to us, especially if he gave the bar a shout-out online. He had so many followers that he could send us quite a bit of business. I figured I should take this one step at a time.

I kept wanting to call Chad, but I didn't get the chance. Apparently word had gotten out that the twins would be performing, so more and more people were streaming into the bar. I tried to clear my head as best as I could. The busier it got, the faster I had to move, which was probably a good thing.

When the twins came onstage, I tried to avoid even looking in their direction. Of course there was no avoiding the pulsating music, the lights flashing back and forth, or the cheers from the crowd. My imagination could fill in the rest; after all, I'd seen them perform before, in more ways than one. But I tried to avoid even thinking about that stuff. I kept reminding myself that I had a job to do, and I needed to focus.

Even so, by the time I got off work, I was definitely hard. I felt incredibly relieved to be going home to Chad. With any luck, I thought, he might still be awake. I had so much on my mind, and so much I wanted to tell him, that I didn't know where to start.

As it turned out though, Chad was fast asleep— not that I was surprised. He was sprawled on his side of the bed, snoring softly, with the sheets twisted all around his body. I could see just enough skin to know he was naked. I was seriously tempted to wake him up; I would've loved to ravage his body or have him ravage me. But I forced myself not to.

I just stepped back, stripped off my shirt, and tossed it in the hamper. Then I let my pants and underwear drop to the floor. I bent over to pick up my clothes, but as I did, I noticed something under Chad's side of the bed. Something that didn't seem to belong.

I crouched down for a better view. As soon as I did, I realized I was looking at a pair of my own underwear. Except I'd never put it there— plus it had cum stains all over it, which were not my doing.

I reached down and took the underwear in my hands. I caught a whiff of a familiar scent. It was clearly Chad's jizz; I could've recognized his brand anywhere. I brought the underwear to my nose, took a deep breath, and let the aroma of my man's juices fill my lungs.

All I could think about was what this must mean. Chad must've been using my underwear as a cumrag. Which meant he'd been jacking off without me— the same way I'd been jacking off without him. And judging by the dampness of the cloth, he'd probably enjoyed a session that same night.

Holy shit, I thought. If Chad kept his cumrag within reach, then it stood to reason he'd been beating off in bed. In the same bed we shared. The same place he was lying at that moment. Hell, for all I knew he could've been pleasuring himself while I was talking to Jean-Jacques— or the twins, for that matter.

I felt myself getting hornier and hornier. I wasn't thrilled at the thought of him doing this by himself, though I knew I couldn't complain. After all, Chad had even warned me how much he'd nutted in that room: You probably don't want to use a blacklight in here. I guarantee you'd find cum in places you never expected…

I licked my lips as the implications sank in. I knew Chad's stroking was a hell of a sight, and if he was cumming in my underwear, he was probably thinking of me as he did it. The more I mulled that over, the more tingly I got. My dick was rock hard, and it pointed straight out, practically begging for a release. I loved thinking I'd been turning him on; I just wished I could've seen that show myself.

I turned away and tiptoed into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, then smelled my underwear again. I tried to guess how many of Chad's loads were in there. Clearly he'd deposited more than one, though it was hard to gauge the exact number. After all, his wads could vary in size. If he'd been edging a long time, then he could've cum buckets; but if he'd been going for multiple orgasms, he might've just shot a few drops with each one. I couldn't help asking myself: had he been doing this all summer? Or had it just been the last few days?

I sat on the toilet and slid my fingers along my shaft. Thoughts of Chad got me so much hotter than all those other guys. My fingers were practically on autopilot: I teased my cockhead a little, then closed my eyes and just savored the sensations. I could still hear the soft purr of him snoring in the next room. Hormones went pumping through my bloodstream, and my nerves immediately responded. I tried to keep the tease going as long as I could, but then I just had to start gripping my cock. I still kept going as slowly as I could, hoping to heighten the sensation, though my urges kept telling me to move faster.

My boyhole was itching, and I wanted to finger it. But at that point I couldn't: I just had one free hand to work with, and I was still craving the smell of Chad's cum. So I kept holding the rag to my nose, and I kept breathing in deeper and deeper.

I can't tell you how bad I need it right now, I remembered Chad saying. I assumed he'd felt the same way jacking off. Of course, I'd never actually seen him do it in private, which I knew was totally different from doing it for show. But I knew him well enough to know how it had probably gone down. I imagined him lying in bed, on top of the sheets, pounding away. I knew he'd probably keep his legs partway up, spread nice and wide, so his ballsack could bounce around freely. The foot of the bed would've had a great view of his taint, along with the start of his buttcrack behind it, and possibly even his pucker.

By now I was stroking much faster. My cock flapped back and forth as I yanked away at it. Chad's cumrag fell from my grip; I wanted to pick it back up, but I didn't want to stop what I was doing. Besides, I had other things I could do with that hand. I arched my back a little, reached back, and dabbed at my hole. My sphincter was still itchy— still very eager for dick— and I would've loved to have given it a dildo. But since that wasn't an option, I did the next-best thing and slid my fingers inside.

I couldn't help thinking of Chad's love for butt play. I remembered the first time we'd fucked, when he'd made me plow his ass. Not to mention when I'd fingered him and eaten him out the first time he'd come to my dorm…

I couldn't help myself at that point. I jacked off harder and faster, and I forced myself to stifle my groans. Fuck, I thought, this was pretty near fantastic. I sensed myself getting closer and closer, till I was just about to bust.

Just then the door whipped open. Chad was standing there, still naked, with a startled look on his face. I jumped with surprise, and I tried to stop, but it was too late. My body was already spasming: a rope of cum shot out of me and landed on my abs. Then a few more spurts splattered on my body, followed by some gobs that just dribbled down my shaft.

Chad seemed just as surprised as I was. Maybe even more so. It was one of the few times he'd made a face that I couldn't quite read.

A wave of embarrassment washed over me. There was obviously no hiding what I'd been doing. My right hand was still wrapped around my cock, drenched in jizz. My left hand was still partly shoved up my butt. "H-hey babe," was all I could say.

Chad seemed just as embarrassed as I was. And he was almost as speechless. "Um… I mean… why—"

"W-well I, uh, didn't want to wake you—"

"If you were really that horny… I mean…" Then his voice trailed off, and I realized he was looking at his cumrag beside me. I could practically see his brain put two and two together.

I relaxed both of my hands, and I laid them on my lap. It was pretty crazy awkward, though I'm not quite sure why. After all, practically all guys jerked off. Hell, the first time we really met was at that circle jerk with the Kap Eps. Yet it still seemed taboo to get caught in the act.

We just stood there in silence at first. Neither of us seemed to know what to say. Finally Chad cleared his throat. "I-I guess… well, considering we were both doing it when I was in D.C., it's just…"

"It's just what?"

Chad took a deep breath. "I dunno, I figured now that we're living together… I guess I assumed we wouldn't need to."

"Wouldn't need to jack off?"

"Well… you don't need to put it that way."

"I-I mean… is there a better way to put it?"

Chad paused for a second. He seemed to have something on the tip of his tongue. But then he shook his head. "I don't know," he finally said.

I wanted to get up and hug him, except I still had jizz on me. I was tempted to use his cumrag to clean off my chest— maybe mix our loads together— but I wasn't sure I should. Instead I reached for the toilet paper roll.

Chad jumped forward and slammed his body against mine. I flinched at first, but then I felt his lips against my mouth, and I sensed the familiar taste of his tongue.

I wasn't about to argue with this. I instinctually put my arms around him, and a glob of cum smeared across his back.

"Baby," he said between kisses, "I've been wanting this so bad…"

"Uh-huh," I replied. "Is that why you dirtied up my underwear?"

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry—"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. You don't think I've been wanting it too?" I tried to stand up while we kissed. We stumbled a little, but then we regained our balance, and Chad pulled me back toward the bedroom.

Both of us knew where this was headed. We plopped into bed, and the mattress shuddered beneath us. "You have no idea how fucking horny I've been…"

"Oh, I think I can imagine…"

Chad gripped my torso and slammed his lips against my chest. He kissed the groove between my pecs, made his way down to my bellybutton, and he slurped up all the cum that was there. Then he paused for a second, apparently admiring my dick. He seemed to rumble with pent-up sexual energy. Finally he opened his mouth, gulped down my cock, and started sucking away.

"Oh fuck," I gasped. My nerves were still pretty tingly from my orgasm. But I wasn't complaining; after all, I was finally getting what I'd been wanting all week. I stretched my body flat against the bed, and I savored the feeling of his tongue against my meat.

Chad sucked me nice and hard, just the way I liked it. As he did it, he gripped the base of my shaft with one hand, and he played with my balls with the other.

"Yeah baby," was all I could say. I ran my hands through Chad's hair. "Oh fuck, that feels so good…"

Chad went at it for a little bit longer, then let my dick fall from his mouth. "I think I'm gonna give you a taste of your own medicine."

"What does that mean?"

He didn't answer at first. He got up, stepped over to his closet, and went through his sporting equipment. He picked up his rope; then to my surprise he pulled out a ski mask. "Now," he said, "I want our safe word to be something cool. Something like 'fidelio.'"

"'Fidelio?'"

"Unless you've got a better idea."

"N-no, I guess it's all right…"

"Okay good. Now get on all fours."

I rolled over and stuck my ass in the air. Chad tied my hands together, then bound them to the headboard so they could hardly move. Then he did the same with my feet. I could already feel my adrenaline start to flow: part of me was nervous, but the other part was excited.

Chad ran hands up my legs, then traced the middle of my buttcrack. "Mm," he said, "fuck, I love this ass…"

"Then stop teasing it," I said.

"Fuck that," he replied. "I'll do with it what I want."

I felt a rush of excitement. Chad had gotten so into being dominated, I hadn't expected him to want to turn the tables. Not that I had any objection; I loved the idea of being his bitch. Or his slut. Or whatever else he wanted to call me.

I felt something over my eyes, and suddenly I couldn't see a thing. Chad had pulled the ski mask over my head. Except he'd made sure the eye holes wouldn't line up with my eyes. I could breathe just fine, but I couldn't see a thing. My first thought was to adjust it, but when I tried to move my hands, the rope kept them firmly locked in place.

"Oh shit," was all I could say. I could feel my heart pounding harder and harder. I had no idea what Chad was about to do, but I couldn't wait to find out.

I felt the familiar sensation of liquid in my ass. I could tell Chad was lubing up my hole. Then I felt his cock against my taint, and I fully expected him to guide it inside me. But he didn't. Instead he started hotdogging me: he slid his boner up and down my crack. His dick passed right past its target, over and over, to and fro, back and forth; but it didn't go in.

My sphincter shuddered with every thrust. I was so eager by now, my nerves were all going haywire. After all, Chad's dick was the one I'd been wanting all this time. The one I'd been craving. The one that seemed made just for me. "Fuck me," I said.

>>6368141

"I told you," he said, "I'm calling the shots around here."

I felt another burst of adrenaline. Since I couldn't see, all my other senses seemed heightened. I could hear everything from Chad's voice to his breath to the rustling of the sheets. I could smell his armpits, which hadn't been washed since that morning. I could taste the residue of his spit in my mouth, and I savored it as long as I could. Most of all, I could feel Chad's legs against my thighs, his hands on my hips, and the subtle tickle of his pubes against my butt.

Suddenly, WHAM! He rammed his thick rod inside me. My body jumped with surprise, and I let out a shriek.

"Oh shit!" I yelled as soon as I regained use of my voicebox. My ass had cramped up pretty tight, and pain was cascading through my body. I almost said our safe word, but I forced myself to hold back. Instead, I used my old tried-and-true technique: I pushed my inner muscles like I was taking a shit. Sure enough, it started to hurt really good. Then the pain disappeared completely, and a feeling of pleasure took over. Wild, sexy, delirious pleasure.

"Oh fuck yeah," Chad was saying. He was pistoning into me so hard that the whole bed was shaking. "That's the best fucking ass…"

"Tear it up," I said. "I want you to fuck that shit up."

Chad smacked me hard. "I told you," he said, "I'm the one calling the shots."

"Uh-huh…" My innards seemed to be doing somersaults, and my limbs yanked at their restraints. Yet somehow that was what made it so hot. >>6368146

Chad kept on pounding away. I arched my back downward, and I felt his rod re-position itself inside me. I squeezed his cock with my sphincter, giving it just a little milking, and I swiveled my hips around. I wanted nothing more than to pleasure my man. My dom. My daddy. My master.

"Oh fuck," I gasped. I still couldn't see anything, but I knew what Chad probably looked like right then. Especially since I could feel him, the way his cock slid in and out of me faster and faster.

"Fuck yeah," Chad said as he picked up his intensity. His pubes were slapping against me so hard I could feel my whole body jiggle. It was probably a good thing I'd already cum; otherwise I wouldn't have lasted. He hit my prostate and sent jolts of electricity through me.

"Oh give it to me," I gasped. "Holy shit…"

"What do you think I'm doing?" he asked, and he smacked me again. That slap felt so fucking good, I almost wanted more. But before I could say anything, Chad reached down and grabbed my cock. "Cum for me," he said.

>>6368153

>>6368153

I gyrated my ass, and I savored his firm grip on my shaft. By now our bodies were moving back and forth in perfect synchronization; although my limbs couldn't move, it didn't seem to matter.

"I want to feel you cum," he said, more insistently this time, as he yanked away at my cock.

In the position I was in, I had no way of aiming my jets. I knew I'd end up busting on the sheets, the same ones we'd need to sleep in. Of course, like any follow-up load, it'd probably be smaller than the first one. But one way or another, I had my orders. I felt myself getting close, and I did nothing to fight it.

"Oh fuck," Chad said as he too went over the edge. His muscles went rigid, and I heard a primeval noise come out of his mouth. Then he started moving again, which was when I felt his warm gooey juices inside me.

"Shit!" I gasped as I shot on Chad's hand. The ropes jerked with tension, and I could sense endorphins surging through my body. I could even feel my ass spasming around my man's penis.

"Fuck yeah," Chad said. He waited a few seconds longer, till my orgasm was over. Then he wiped off his hand— on my back this time— and he pulled off the ski mask so I could properly see. Finally he undid the ropes, and we both collapsed into bed. "That was so fucking sexy."

"Yeah it was," I replied. I was surprised to see that I liked being a sub. But I was even more surprised to find the bondage was almost incidental. The part that had really turned me on was the thought of me belonging to Chad. I suspected the feeling was mutual, in that he seemed to dig the thought of belonging to me. In that case, I thought, we might not need whips or chains after all…

>>6368162

"You know," he said, "I want to make sure you get off as much as you need."

"Say what?"

"I'm not saying we should sleep around or whatever. I mean… if we need to jack off, either of us… there's no shame in it, right?"

"Well right," I replied. I didn't want Chad to feel embarrassed, any more than I wanted to feel embarrassed myself. I liked to think that we'd moved beyond any hangups or internalized homophobia or whatever you wanted to call it. Or at least I hoped we had.

"The point is," Chad said, "I want to make sure you're taken care of."

"Well…" I put my arms around him. "I want to make sure you are too."

Chad nodded. "You sound like you've got something else on your mind."

I sighed and chewed my lip. Chad was obviously right. We had a lot more to talk about than just masturbation— in fact, that was probably the least awkward of the issues we needed to tackle. I knew I had to tell him about getting hit on at work. I also had to acknowledge Jean-Jacques, and the fact that Flynn was coming to town. But the biggest issue of all was how to handle the twins. I was pretty sure Chad would have plenty to say about them, and I knew it wouldn't be the easiest discussion. But if we were going to be candid with each other, there was no way around it.

I just looked in Chad's eyes, and I put my hand on his chest. And I tried to figure out the best way to approach this.

To be continued…

>>6368190

She can't bring herself to go in.

It's not a dungeon. Not his apartment. Just a coffee shop.

The door is glass. If he's in there, he's probably looking at her.

She pulls the door open. Glances around.

He's there.

He looks just like in his pictures. The ones where he has naked girls bent over his lap.

She scuttles over and sits down across from him.

She can't look at him.

She waits.

Eyes up. He smirks. Eyes down again.

"Are we playing the quiet game, then?" he says.

She laughs. No, giggles. Whatever it is, it's too loud. However she looks, it's too red.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

She shakes her head.

"Can you tell me why we're here?"

"I…" she flounders.

"You want to enlist my services. Am I wrong?"

She shakes her head. Eyes up, then down.

"And those services involve me bossing and tossing you around. Wrong?"

She shakes her head. She smiles slightly at his playful tone.

"So if I wanted to get you a drink, I could. Wrong?"

She shakes her head.

>>6368196

"Now, I'm going to give you another chance. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yes," she says. She almost adds "Sir", like some of the girls in the videos do, but she doesn't. One syllable-step at a time.

"Different question now. Do you want anything to drink?"

She hesitates. If she once knew the answer, she doesn't anymore.

He smiles. So innocent, he thinks. He decides to go easier on her. "How about I'll get you some water, and if you want anything else, you just tell me, all right, love?"

She nods.

He goes to get water.

So far, this is going exactly how she didn't know she wanted. She doesn't know much about sex. Good Catholic girls don't. But she's always known that she likes to be helpless. None of the men she's been on dates with were controlling enough. Or at all. Of course, she never asked them to be, but of course she wouldn't. She doesn't want to give up her choices. She wants them taken from her.

In her furtive Internet searches (always in private mode), she found John Smith, the "Dom" to "sub" she's learned to name herself. Every step—clicking the Contact button, sending a message, responding to each email—required a new bout of courage. And now she's here.

He comes back with a cup of water.

"Thank you," she manages.

She takes a sip.

"Ever heard of roofies?" he grins at her.

She looks at him in horror.

He laughs. "I'm just joking," he says. "I wouldn't roofie you like this. That's something you have to earn."

She looks at him in amazement. Now she wants what she didn't want five seconds ago. She wants it because she can't have it. He really is a pro.

"Two truths, one lie," he begins. Living up to his nickname of the Playeur. "Ready to guess?"

She nods.

"I've had thirty-one subs. None of them has ever gone to the police. I want to bring you to my car and fuck you in it right now."

She gasps and looks away. She feels something in her stomach. A pang. A clench. She was trying to follow along—the thirty-one number she remembered from his website—but now she can't speak. The bad word sticks in her mind. …fuck… She hopes no one else heard him. She feels her sex getting wet. Why does it do that?

"Go on, guess," he says. "Which one's the lie?"

"The…the last one?" she says.

"You wish," he says. "It's the second. One of my subs was a police officer," he grins.

"Oh," is all she can say.

"Your turn," he says. "Two truths and a lie. Or, if you like, a lie and two truths," he smiles.

She thinks. "Um…my favorite color is pink. I'm no good at this game. And I've never…done it in a car."

He gives her a burning look. "I'd bet you've never 'done it' at all."

She blushes.

>>6368205

"Am I wrong?"

She shakes her head.

"Why haven't you?"

"No one has wanted to," she says.

"Lie."

This is a compliment. She doesn't know what to say.

"Why haven't you wanted to?"

She looks at her cup of water. "Well…"

"Let me guess," he says. "They drive you home. They kiss you. They put their hands on your knee, and when they start to put their hands under your skirt, the word escapes your lips: 'No'. And then they just stop."

She looks at him with big eyes.

"But you don't want them to stop. You want them to take you. You want them to force you. You want to be owned, don't you, little girl?"

Slowly, she nods.

He moves to the chair next to her. She starts trembling. He hasn't touched her.

He leans in close to her. His breath's on her cheek. "So," he says in a low voice, "what is your favorite color?"

She can't help but laugh. She chances a glance at him. A harmless sparkle shines from his eyes.

"Red," she says.

He smiles. "Are you using your safeword?"

"Oh! No, sorry," she says. They did agree to that safeword over email.

"So, 'no' is your favorite word, and red is your favorite color. You were born for this."

He slowly lifts his hand to her face. She gasps. Her lips part. She doesn't move. He runs his thumb along her lower lip. It tickles the way fire tickles.

"Will you tell me your name now?"

She takes a deep breath. "Mary," she says.

He smiles. "Well, Miss Mary," he says, "You'd better get used to being called 'slut'."

~

She follows him into the elevator. It's the day after the coffee shop. He wouldn't let her go home with him the same day. Made her sleep on it. She was grateful for that, but now she's even more excited. Even more nervous.

He presses his floor. 32. Her sub number.

Another man walks in.

"Peter!" John says. They do some kind of bro handshake. "This is Mary."

The doors close. Peter shakes Mary's hand.

"Pleasure," Peter smiles.

She can't tell what kind of smile it is.

32 floors is a long time. John chats with Peter about something. She doesn't really listen. All she can think about is the fact that John is tracing a finger up and down her back over her sweater. It's thrilling enough that he's touching her. But Peter is watching.