Chapter 11
MARK
Ienter my pitch-black bedroom, close the door behind me, and take a few steps in before I feel Tim rush up behind me and wrap his arm around my throat.
He puts his other hand on my waist and moves it up under my shirt, sliding it across my abs.
“Don’t make a sound or I’ll fuck you even harder than I’m already planning to,” he says, his nose pressed against my ear so the fabric of the ski mask he’s wearing scratches against my skin. I asked him to wear the ski mask for this scenario.
I stay perfectly still to let him know I’ll do whatever he wants.
He slides his hand back down to my jeans, pops the button, and unzips my fly before reaching down beneath my briefs and grabbing my cock.
“Getting a little tingle thinking about it, aren’t you? Turn on the light, fucker.”
He guides me to the switch. I flip it so the lamp on the nightstand beside my bed turns on.
It’s been two months since we started fucking regularly, and things have escalated quickly into new realms of fucked up.
I’d seen this too many times in porn. Enjoyed it enough that I wanted a chance to experience it for myself. And who better to be open with about my desires than a guy who’s so unashamed of his own?
“Now take off your clothes, and don’t turn around,” Tim says, “or I’ll make you fucking regret it.”
His words are so serious I almost believe we’ve moved beyond role play into something far more dangerous, but we’ve played like this enough I know my safeword cherry can get me out at any point.
I can’t imagine Tim taking me in a way that would go too far.
He hasn’t done anything like that. Everything he’s given me, I’ve wanted—eagerly, desperately, entirely.
He releases my neck, and I undress before him.
I can see in the window that he’s already naked. Just wearing the ski mask.
My cock is stiff from knowing he was hiding in my room when I stepped inside. We’d agreed to meet at this time, and I’d told him how I wanted it. What I wished for.
And I’m pleased to know he wasn’t too much of a coward to give me this satisfaction.
“Now lay down on your back on the fucking bed,” he says.
I obey.
“Up to the headboard, you stupid shit.”
I scoot up and lie back, awaiting my punishment. My reward.
He crawls onto the bed, over me so that I’m facing his mask.
He looks down at me, seemingly someone different. The same eyes, but with a sort of freedom. Like he knows he can shake off his identity and be someone dangerous—at least for tonight.
He strokes his hand up and down my body. Then he settles on my cock, groping, stroking. He tightens his grip around it.
“Don’t make me rip it off,” he says.
God, does he watch the same porn I do? He must, because he’s doing a fucking good job with this.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” I say. “Just please don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, I’m going to hurt you all right.” He grips even tighter, creating just enough pressure to make me even more aroused.
He slides his hand under the pillow and retrieves a pair of handcuffs, ones I assume he hid when he got here before me.
I gave him Greg’s spare key several weeks ago so he could come by whenever he had a chance.
Made the holidays a little easier for us since I had to spend more time at Mom and Dad’s and wasn’t always home.
He locks one cuff around my wrist, weaves it around the bedpost between two slats of the headboard, and then cuffs the other end to my opposite wrist.
I’m his prisoner. His sex slave.
His erection rubs across my leg as he crawls back down. He reaches over and pulls a condom and a bottle of lube from between the mattress and the box spring.
As he rolls on the condom, he gazes at me with menacing eyes.
“You ready to get fucked?” he asks.
I nod.
He smirks as he applies lube to the condom and then tosses the bottle aside, moving forward on the bed. He lifts my legs and presses the head of his dick against my hole.
He pushes in steadily, rubbing his hand across my abdomen, his thumb pressing into the dips between my muscles.
“Oh, you’re a tight motherfucker, aren’t you?”
“Fuck!” I shout as his cock hits all the right nerves within me, sending waves of excitement racing up and down my body.
“Oh, yeah. Gonna have to open you up.”
He works his way in, and my body invites his familiar cock right on in. As soon as he hits my prostate, I squirm with delight.
As he finds his stride, he fills me. Pounds into me. Drilling my ass like he always has in the past. While he takes me, I notice he has his iPhone set up on the dresser behind him to document me being his cumdumpster.
Seeing that he’s recording excites me even more. I offer an even bigger performance as we fuck. Crying out. Screaming. Shifting with more frenzied movements.
He laughs.
“Oh, trying to get away, you little shit? What good do you think that’ll do?”
He pulls out and flips me onto my stomach.
My wrists twist in the cuffs, pulling together as he mounts me from behind and pushes back within me.
“Fuckin’ A,” I say as he hits those same sweet spots once again. The intensity is just so overpowering. Overwhelming, even.
He punches my ass. Then gives it a good slap.
He does that occasionally, and as much as it annoys me because it’s like he’s punishing a child, something about it turns me on. Just knowing he’s totally in control of me, perhaps.
He grips my hair and pushes my face down into the pillow before me. Then he leans down as he continues fucking me and whispers into my ear. “That’s right…take it up your ass. Take it like the good boy you are. I own you.”
My cock rubs against the cover, and I know I’m making a mess across it with how much I’m pre-coming.
He nips at my earlobe. Gently, but firmly. He plays with it, and it’s driving me crazy. That and how his cock is slamming against my prostate.
He pulls out and turns me on my back again, pulling my left leg up against his body as he pushes inside me again.
My pre-come leaks out and pools onto my stomach.
He cups my balls—already swelling with pressure—and massages them along with the base of my shaft.
Like he’s trying to milk me. He pulls my leg out of his way, but holds it while continuing to stimulate my balls and shaft.
He leans down and whispers, “How does it feel knowing you come when I make you come? Knowing that I can stop at any point?”
I’m not sure how to answer.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.
“No, please,” I beg. I’m not pretending. It feels so good, and the idea of him withholding these sensations terrifies me.
“Oh, ’cause you like it. You like how it feels.” He licks my cheek and moves down to my ear. He nibbles at my earlobe, and it’s too much for me.
The pressure in my cock builds and builds, my orgasm starting in my pelvis and shaking through my body. Come shoots across my stomach and drips up to my chest.
I don’t realize until I finish, but I’m shouting.
With the hand he used to cup my balls, Tim caresses my torso and then tastes the mess.
“Kiss me,” he demands.
And I do. He pushes my seed into my mouth and then unleashes a cry as his body jerks forcefully, his cock hitting my ever-sensitive prostate as he reaches his own climax.
Amazing. Intoxicating. Breathtaking.
He undoes my cuffs, and as we recover from the incredible fuck, he pulls out and discards the condom before returning and lying beside me in the bed.
He removes the mask and sets it on the nightstand before rolling toward me, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. He runs his fingers through it, brushing it to the side.
“Damn, kid,” he says, beaming. “You got some nasty fantasies, don’t you?”
I chuckle.
“You’re the one who said you’d do it,” I say.
“It was pretty fucking hot, you filthy ass.”
He likes calling me that, and I like it, too.
These past few months have been like being trapped in the best porn ever. We’re each other’s dirty secrets. We see each other at school, but don’t ever say anything. Occasionally, we catch each other’s glances and exchange knowing looks.
“What’s for dinner?” he asks.
“I can go again if you need some protein,” I tease.
He crawls back down my body and licks up a bit that remains on my abs. “I can at least get a little more now.”
He moves back up to me and licks across my lips. “There,” he says. “Think I’m good on protein now. Might need a few carbs, though. Watchu got?”
He hops out of bed and heads out the door, totally naked. I throw on a pair of boxers before following after him.
He checks the cabinets and pantry while I sit on a stool at the bar beside the kitchen.
“Dude, you need to go grocery shopping,” he says as I head into the living room and pick the remote up off the coffee table, turning on an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race that I DVRed.
“I know I fucking need to go to the store,” I say. “I didn’t realize I was going to be feeding two people here.”
He turns to me, his smile broad. He’s spent a lot of time here for dinners.
He never stays the night because he wants to get home to his nanna, who he texts every once and a while like an obsessive overbearing parent…
like my fucking mother. But I get it. I know what it’s like going through chemo with someone…
worrying about them…wanting to make sure they’re okay.
I think our time together has helped him, though.
“Well, I’ll take some Chef Boyardee and a couple cans of soup please,” he says.
“Shut up. I’m not your mother.”
Although, as I say it, I want to take it back. It was an expression, but it reminds me of his crap parents.
“I’ll pick up some things before I come over tomorrow,” he says. “Maybe I can grab one of those pizzas we like.”
I always buy a bunch of freezable pizzas that I can bake throughout the week, and since Tim’s spent more time over here, he’s found he likes them too.
I set the remote back down on the coffee table and sit on the couch.
He grabs a box of Froot Loops from the pantry and fixes himself a bowl.
It’s cute watching him walk around my little kitchen, his dick wagging about as he prepares his less-than-nutritious meal.