Nifty Male on Male story

It was a dark and stormy night. No, really! You can’t make this stuff
up.

Okay, it wasn’t storming per se, but it *was* raining fairly hard, and
looked pretty dark, and was definitely night. But I digress….

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. That would be me, hoping to
get out of the rain.

Tim took so long to open the door I started to worry. Maybe he
regretted calling me. Maybe he just wanted to be alone.

Fortunately, it was nothing of the sort. As soon as the door swung
open, I detected a fast food commercial from the other room. Pushing
past Tim, I slammed the door with one hand, and drew him in for a
tongue-powered tonsillectomy with the other.

“Abby–” he started, once I let him breath. I ran a finger over his
lips.

“Don’t speak.”

“It’s too soon, she only–”

My eyes narrowed. “You’ll pay for that, later, slave. I told you not
to speak.” I set down my duffel bag. “Now stand at the mirror, arms at
you sides.” He hesitated, then hung his head and complied. Gliding
behind him, I slide my arms over his shoulders and down his chest,
making sure he could feel my erection pressing through our jeans.

“Now, why did you call me?” I caught his eye in the mirror. “You may
reply, slave.”

“We had a fight–it’s only a week until the wedding–if there is one,
now….”

“Yes?”

“I just didn’t know who else to call,” A well-placed pinch produced a
gratifying wince. “Master,” he finished.

“So you called to…” he jumped a little when I began unbuttoning his
shirt, “…talk?”

“Maybe.”

“So it’s something else, then? Comfort sex?”

“N-noo, Master.”

“Why don’t you explain it to me, hmmm?” I maneuvered his arms through
the sleeves and let both shirt and undershirt fall.

“Uhh…” Tim was really squirming now. I ventured further downward,
trailing palms over well-maintained abs, pressing a nail into his
navel. “You know how you helped me get over my jitters about
proposing? Master-rrr?” He trailed off into an uncertain growl when I
started toying with the button on his jeans.

I bent my head until my lips almost touched his ear and lowered my
voice. “You want me to fuck some confidence into you? Punish you until
you can make up with her?”

“Yes, Master,” he whispered.

“Can’t hear you,” I teased, opening the snap.” My fingers felt his
cock through his boxers, making him pant.

“Yes, Master.” A little louder, but I decided he still needed
encouragement. Squeeze!

“Yes, Master!”

“Much improved. I see vanilla life hasn’t ruined you yet.” Abruptly, I
yanked both layers all the way down. “Straighten up your clothes and
get on the bed. And you better be ready.” I grinned wickedly, enjoying
Tim’s muscular back as he stepped out of the jeans and boxers and
bent, gasping, to collect them. “Move!”

As he departed, I wondered again why I got myself into these
situations. I should never have let him become so dependent. I should
never have encouraged him, I shouldn’t be here now. I’d already talked
everything over with Abby, she was just waiting for him to patch
things up. So why he thought he needed this, needed me….

The TV was still on in the other room. As it went dark, I gathered my
energy and followed the sound of hurried movement to the bedroom.

**

I forced my head further back as he stroked my collar, exposing my
neck even more. “Did you hide it?”

“Hide what, Master?” I was on my bed (the bed that I would have shared
with Abby in a week, I couldn’t help thinking), limbs beneath me,
presenting my entire torso for his perusal.

“Your collar. Did you put high on a shelf, so Abby wouldn’t see? At
the back of a drawer? Were you afraid?”

“Yes, Master, I did.” He was speaking kindly, but I felt so ashamed,
like the worst kind of traitor. “I was afraid.”

“What kind of a marriage is that? How would you feel if Abby kept
secrets from you? Is that part of your problem?”

“I would feel terrible, Master. But she didn’t find out, our fight was
about–”

He pulled my chin back down so I was looking up at him. “Answer my
question.”

“She should be angry.”

“Quite.” Releasing my head, Master Adam shifted position and pressed
down on my erect cock with one finger, watching it bob up and down. I
dug my knees and shoulders into the bed, knowing it would only get
harder to maintain the position.

“How long?”

My eyes locked onto the stopwatch which now dangled in my face, held
in his right hand. “Half an hour?” My voice quivered in time with the
muscles in my thighs, which were straining to hold my buttocks above
the mattress.

“Have you gone so soft?” He sighed. “Very well. But that’s all, you
have to hold the position the whole time. No slipping, and no breaks.”
I gripped my ankles tighter, suddenly less certain. “Still want to
play?” Biting my lip, I glanced up. Master Adam was slowly rubbing the
underside of my cock, and there was no malice in his eyes, only warmth
and concern.

“Yes, Master.” He waited. “Yes, Master!” I almost screamed.

“Then we can begin.” He climbed onto the bed and lowered his mouth
around me, tongue caressing where fingers had been only seconds
before. I had begun to relax, moaning, when I felt the cool air on my
wet, sensitive flesh. Chancing a peek upward, I saw–

Stars. I screamed with the first hit and nearly lost the position,
even though I’ve felt Master Adam can swing much harder. He loves
surprises.

While I recovered, he took me in his mouth again. The slow pleasure
drew in the burn of the rod, and I fell into the dark, controlling
eyes haunting me through the veil of his hair. When he struck next, he
delivered a precisely-aimed stroke without moving, sucking
continuously. I fought desperately to curl outwards instead of
falling, intent on obedience and pleasing my Master.

“Four minutes,” he said.

**

“Please, Master, please, I need…” Hips thrusting futilely, his
short, sandy hair dark with sweat, Tim was in obvious need.

“All done.” I climbed out of bed and stretched. “That’s thirty-five
minutes.”

He humped the air again, too high for my duplicity to register.
“Master?” His chest muscles were covered in a web of sharp, glowing
lash marks, tracing almost delicately around his ribs.

I turned my back and bent, rooting through the toy bag. “Yes, slave?”

“May I…” Tim’s voice dropped into a pleading whisper “…come?”

“No.” I straightened, revealing my find, a length of nylon cord. “But
here’s you what you can do.” Crossing back to the bed, I began looping
the cord around his scrotum.

“I want you to get dressed, go over to Abby’s, and present yourself to
her. Leave your collar on.”

“I can’t, not when things are like this between us! What if she hates
me?”

“Then you’ll have to find someone else to get this off your balls,
won’t you?” I tied off the cord. His obvious, real fear almost made me
relent, but I knew he was counting on me not to let him take the easy
way out. “Stop whining and get going.” As he was unfolding stiff
joints, I encouraged him with a slap on the ass. “Hurry!”

**

It was still raining as he walked gingerly up to the front door of
Abby’s apartment house. He seemed stunned that she was there to meet
him. I love surprises.

Tim was one of the most easy-going people I knew. Anyone who hadn’t
know him for years would say he only had two moods: calm, happy, and
hyper. But he had such a beautiful core of strength, even more so than
most subs. Abby was a lucky woman.

As I watched, she drew closer to him. Their fingertips met, gingerly
and first, then she took his hand and pulled him inside. He never
looked back.