CHAPTER 1 KIERAN #2
It only took another ten minutes, and he was getting out of the cab and walking up to the door of a Victorian townhouse.
The guy hadn’t given a flat number, so he must own the entire building.
It wasn’t unusual for the older men Kieran went with to have money.
He didn’t give a fuck, though. This wasn’t a date.
The door opened, and Kieran was pleased to see he looked like his pictures had been taken in the last year.
The guy was shirtless, apart from wearing a harness.
His hairy chest was on display, and he had ink on his arms. A quick glance and Kieran knew he’d have done a better job, but that’s something he’d keep to himself.
Kieran realised he didn’t know what the guy’s name was, other than the highly original Domtop69.
The lack of creativity would have been a turnoff if Kieran hadn’t seen the guy had the goods to back up the claims he’d made in his messages.
“Safe word?” he asked as soon as the door was shut.
“Tomatoes.”
The guy nodded. “On your knees, boy.”
Kieran snorted.
“You got a problem with me calling you boy?”
“As long as you don’t expect me to call you Daddy.”
“You’ll call me what I fucking tell you. Now get on your knees for sir.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, dropping to his knees
The guy pulled his fat cock out. The head was an angry purple colour. Not the most attractive-looking cock he’d ever seen, but as long as it was clean, Kieran was up for most things.
“Open up for me, you little slut.”
Kieran felt a pulse of pleasure through his body at the word. His own cock hardened as he opened his mouth. Domtop69 didn’t waste time shoving his entire cock down Kieran’s throat. He gagged, and his eyes watered.
“Choke on it, you fucking whore.”
It wasn’t the longest cock he’d ever experienced, probably about six inches, but there was a nice girth to it.
The guy was panting. It didn’t sound like he was going to last long.
Kieran focused on his own breathing as the guy fucked his throat and continued to hurl insults at him.
He loved it, and he’d been clear on what his limits were before he’d agreed to come over.
Kieran could taste a lot of precum, so it was clear he was close.
He doubled down on his efforts. The guy obviously just wanted to get off and didn’t give a shit about Kieran, which was fine with him.
He loved being used in this way. It was what he deserved.
“Look at me, slut.”
Kieran looked up into his eyes, which were practically feral. The guy spat in his face and slapped him. Not too hard, but enough to push Kieran close to the edge. He focused back on his task, surprised when Domtop69 grabbed him by the throat.
“I’m gonna cum down your throat, you dirty little cunt.”
Kieran hummed his agreement. He wasn’t a fan of choking, but the guy didn’t have hold of him tight enough to leave marks.
He’d not expressed it was a hard limit, but he’d been clear he wasn’t into any form of pain, or anything that would leave marks.
It was hard to find guys who were part of the scene and were just happy with verbal degradation.
Pain and humiliation usually came hand in hand, but it had never been something Kieran had been comfortable with.
The guy groaned out his release as he came down Kieran’s throat. He had an impressive spurt, and he still had Kieran by the neck. It felt possessive more than dominant. They guy withdrew his softening cock, and Kieran looked up at the satisfied expression on his face. He smiled at Kieran.
“You’re a greedy little cum slut, aren’t you?”
Kieran nodded, smiling.
“Now get the fuck out. I need to sleep.”
Kieran had done what he’d come for. He’d been used as a mouth to fuck, and now he was being dismissed.
Once he was outside, he pushed hard on his throbbing cock and rubbed it a few times.
It was painful and arousing at the same time.
Kieran bit his fist as he came in his pants, and he took a few seconds to bring his breathing back to a steady rhythm.
He stepped out onto the street and saw a row of shops a few hundred metres away. He could order a cab to pick him up from there. Looking at his watch, he realised that if he had a quick shower to get the dried cum off him, he’d probably still be asleep by eleven.
“If it isn’t my favourite customer!”
“I bet you say that to everyone,” said Langdon.
“Jez, do I say that to anyone?”
“No. He usually tells them to fuck off.”
Langdon snorted and followed Kieran over to his station.
Kieran had been tattooing Langdon for five years.
He’d followed Kieran to every studio he’d worked at.
Langdon had suggested he set up on his own, but Kieran didn’t have the right head for business.
It was easier to work for someone else and not worry about that.
Given he was a senior tattooist and specialised in portraits, he was on a good salary and earned at least half his salary again in tips.
A lot of it was cash, so he didn’t need to declare it.
Well, he chose not to. The last thing he wanted to do was give the cunts in government any more of his money, especially when he got nothing in return for it.
That was why Hassan was slowly moving into private practice.
The way he was treated at work was appalling.
“Here’s the design,” Kieran said, passing the tablet to Langdon.
It was a dragon design, which was going on Langdon’s lower back.
The guy was hot as fuck, but Kieran had never been there.
He didn’t mess around with clients, especially regular ones, and Langdon might look tough with his permanent scowl and the fact he was built like a tank and covered in tattoos, but Kieran knew the guy was a sweetheart.
Not the type of man who did it for Kieran.
He thought back to the blow job he’d given the night before and smiled.
It had been hot, and the guy had done exactly what Kieran had asked for: used him like he was nothing.
Maybe he could become a regular. It was easier than having to break in a new dom who wanted to push his limits, and never in a good way.
Kieran seemed to attract an abundance of arseholes.
“I love it,” said Langdon. “Can we get it all done in one sitting?”
“Yeah. We’ve got three hours.”
“Great,” said Langdon, pulling his tight T-shirt off.
The guy’s body was a work of art, in more ways than one. Kieran had done most of the ink, but that sculpted physique was all Langdon's hard work.
“What?” said Langdon, with a flirty grin.
“Eric’s a lucky man,” said Kieran.
Langdon’s face lit up at the mention of his fiancé. “I’m the lucky one.”
“Are you going to be gushing for the next three hours? Some of us are perpetually single, you know.”
“Isn’t that your personal choice?”
“I really should talk less to my clients.”
Langdon chuckled before lying face down on the bench. Given Langdon was happy, it didn’t take long for Kieran to get the stencil ready. It wasn’t a large piece, but there was colour in it, so it wasn’t a simple design.
“How’s the wedding planning going?” asked Kieran,
“We’re not doing anything elaborate, so nothing stressful.”
“Is that because you’ve delegated everything to Eric?”
“That’s what he wanted, and I’m trying to keep my stepdad from interfering.”
“I didn’t know you had a stepdad,” said Kieran, remembering his own and shuddering with embarrassment.
“We hadn’t spoken in years, but he came back onto the scene last year.”
“Ah, I see.”
“What?”
“I’m sensing some bad blood.”
“It’s . . . complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?” Kieran replied before starting the tattoo gun.
He couldn’t help but think of his own stepdad.
It had been ten years since the man had betrayed him in the worst possible way.
Sometimes he wondered if Derek still worked in London.
Thankfully, their paths had never crossed.
Kieran knew he wouldn’t be able to control his anger if he ever saw the man again. Hopefully, he never would.