One thing I might do - Chapter 5 - gay authoritarian sex tale, by Simon Harper - sharper@inorbit.com - Please tell me what you think, especially if you like it ;-)
Chapter 5 is called "The story of MarcAntony and the white Italian Suit"
Because of my job I have to get up and leave the house quite early - as soon as I have woken and served my current boyfriend. The payoff is that I finish and return mid afternoon. Quite often my current boyfriend is there and I would go to him immediately.
He was fucking MarcAntony. In the brief moment it took to open the TV room door and then get out I was able to take in a whole lot of details.
MarcAntony was wearing his white Italian Suit. I think my current boyfriend had bought it for him once when they planned to go to this fancy garden party. Some gay opera thing... I'm not sure. He had the jacket on and the trousers were ruffled around his ankles, with his 2-ist underpants rolled to just beneath his knees and he had his smart shiny white leather brogue shoes on. His jacket was open and his white shirt flapped to either side of his chest. He had his blue gold and black necklace on and his eyes were clamped tight shut until half a sec. when he opened them, expressionless already, and saw me, like watching them. He was supporting himself with one hand on the chair behind, the other pumping his hard-on. My current boyfriend had one hand around MarcAntony, holding onto his stomach and the other over MarcAntony's leg, fingering his balls and feeling his own dick as it slid up and down in MarcAntony's tight anus.
"Aw ma-an," complained MarcAntony the moment he saw it was me. "Get the fucking out will ya!"
That's when I left the room. About two seconds had passed. I remember my current boyfriend looking at me, and his hand on MarcAntony's belly which was hairier than I had imagined and taut with the effort of keeping his balance. MarcAntony had his whole body in tension working up and down on my current boyfriend. His tan was slightly paler and pinker on his balls. His muscular legs lined with the individual muscles working to support him at an awkward angle. His neck was full and thick and the necklace of black, gold and blue beads dug into his now prominent Adam's apple.
What I remember most is his asshole hugging my current boyfriend's powerful pole.
I stood outside the door and listened. I think I heard MarcAntony moaning - as in complaining - that he didn't like me coming in like that and spoiling their scene; but my current boyfriend ... I didn't hear him say anything.
I undressed from my work uniform and stood with everything folded by the door. I was afraid to go anywhere. I stroked my dick, thinking of how MarcAntony had my current boyfriend's dick inside him and what he would feel.
MarcAntony wasn't into anything heavy. He just liked some chastisement and a good long hard fuck. They fucked for like hours sometimes, not cuming, just fucking and fucking and fucking. He used to some round about 2pm or 3 and they'd fuck until the evening when my current boyfriend would take him out to dinner.
I should have known.
MarcAntony worked out at the same gym and I was lifting some weights and he came up and started waiting. He wanted to use them. I felt self-conscious. I had seen him before around my current boyfriend. He was watching me lift the weights, saw what weights I was lifting, noticed how I was lifting them, counting the reps.
I rep'd to 20 and was just about to rest when he said, "You should rest."
I didn't say anything but smiled and got off in some embarrassment. I don't know why.
He saw my bruising and also, through my shorts, my dick half at ease. Just then my current boyfriend came over and I think just for something to say, said, "Are you going to shower now?" It was usual for him in that he said it in a way that was totally possessive, and of course wasn't a question. Nevertheless, he followed it up with "Go shower", and as if it was some kind of politeness, "There's no rush." That obviously meant I should take my time. I could see at once that he wanted to go with the guy again.
Usually when I shower several of the guys look at me because, well, I'm quite built now and because all the marks and bruises my current boyfriend has put on me kind of horrify, or excite some of them; either way they watch while I carefully soap up and wash myself down. My shaved balls and pubes and head give me a kind of super-naked appearance and I often start to get stiff.
My current boyfriend usually comes to the edge of the shower and stares. I think that watching me soak and rub my freshly pumped body turns him on and he can inspect the records of his latest torture. He plans new marks, I believe, at this time. He likes to see the other guys, like they sometimes do, linger to inspect me. Once or twice they speak to me which is because they haven't noticed his proprietorial stare - he usually lets this go on for a bit and then turns this back and leaves, which I take as my cue to follow him.
It's very awkward if I get a hard-on. You can't always be sure if nobody there is straight, though if they are they usually leave when things get too much. A guy might be touching me. If someone is really persistent then my current boyfriend might speak to them and either give me to them for a bit or he'll come round and we'll do something.
The TV room door opened and MarcAntony's head poked out. He very rarely speaks to me or acknowledges my existence but this time he said "He wants you in here." And he wasn't smiling at all.
He had pulled up his underpants and the trousers of his white Italian suit to cover himself, though his shirt still flapped open over his lovely flat stomach and his defined chest. His tits were brown and dark and erect. He didn't look at me except enough to take in that I had undressed - which I think surprised him. He pushed the door open so I could go in. The end of his prick was pointing angrily out of the waistband of his underpants.
My current boyfriend was sitting down, his massive hard-on filling his fist. He watched me as I entered, taking in my appearance, and said "Kneel," his eyes indicating his feet.
"Ok," he said to MarcAntony.
MarcAntony clearly wasn't happy. He exposed his lower half and hitched himself onto my current boyfriend again. As he did so he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. My current boyfriend gave him a push and they were back and off fucking again.
I knelt watching them fuck for a second, then saw my current boyfriend's fingers sort of beckoning me forward. I crept forward and once I was in range he gave me a slap, a really brisk thwump that nearly threw me over, and then he grabbed one of my ears and pulled my head forward so that I could put my tongue where his fingers were rubbing MarcAntony's balls. I worked and licked while my current boyfriend fed me the cunt juice on his fingers.
MarcAntony's balls were clean-shaven, slightly paler than the rest of him, like I said, and very, very beautiful. The skin was silky.
"Oh, oh man-n," groaned MarcAntony, wanking himself and looking down at my face on his bollocks.
"Oh man, oh yes that's good. Man that's good..."
He went on like that.
My current boyfriend said something surprising. He got his hand round my head so that my face was mashed into their crotches and my tongue was working hard but I'm not sure where and he said, "You like that, Honey?"
"Honey?" I thought. "Honey?"
"Oh yehh," said MarcAntony, "I think I'm gonnacum!!
My current boyfriend managed to aim a kick at me, which hit my thigh, and I sort of pulled back from them, but MarcAntony started yelping "No! No! I'm cumin, keep there, keep yh yh oh yh fuck fuck..."
I had my tongue on his pale silky balls again when MarcAntony's cum started to plurp, cascading and drizzling out of his dick in big wodges, and it ran out of his dick and over his hand and down on to his balls and into my mouth and down the back of my tongue and into my gut.
"Honey..." I thought.
My current boyfriend was pushing harder and harder into MarcAntony's arse as the sphincter gripped and relaxed in great decelerating spasms.
"Ooh that's good," he said. "Ooh that's good," and I could see that he was shooting his full load up into MarcAntony's gut.
"Oh Honey... Honey..." he said. He put his hands on MarcAntony's shoulders and forced one last great heaving ejaculation into him so that MarcAntony screamed - he must have thought he was about to split up the middle.
"Oh h Hon Eee."
And MarcAntony said my current boyfriend's name and my current boyfriend said, "I love you, I love you," and he kissed MarcAntony long and deep and passionately and stroked MarcAntony's gorgeous body with his strong hands, lightly digging the flesh with his fingertips.
"Honey."
From then on it seemed quite frequent that MarcAntony came to me and told me that my current boyfriend had said I should join them for a fuck. I was generally the tongue, licking and kissing and caressing MarcAntony's cock or balls or perineum or ass hole or ass crack. While I practised my tongue play my current boyfriend would kiss and grope MarcAntony, fuck him and also praise him a hell of a lot.
"You are my beautiful boy," he would say, "and I'm never going to hurt you. Ever." Or he would call him Honey or Baby - words like that. MarcAntony loved all this. He moaned and sighed when my current boyfriend paid him all this attention and stroked him.
My role was strictly limited to attending to MarcAntony's sexy region. I chased around after them as they changed position and made more and more love for hours on end. I must admit I was bored, even though my current boyfriend took every opportunity to kick me or strike me. That's also what he wanted me there for. He needed something to release his naturally sadistic tastes on. He always liked MarcAntony's cum to be cleaned up by me. I got very familiar with the taste of MarcAntony's ass hole and the sweaty arch between his balls and his leg and the salty urine that leaked from his prick and the smell of his underpants. I knew every detail of the way the skin on his prick folded into a tight seam that led over his balls and back towards his anus.
My current boyfriend started calling me Slave and so, after a bit did MarcAntony. In actual fact I'm not sure if MarcAntony didn't in fact start it. It was his idea to do away with my name. He wasn't physically violent on a bad person but as time went on he naturally re-grew a bit of his previous sexy arrogance and he started to get impatient with me and jealous that I was sharing part of my current boyfriend's attention.
But during sex he couldn't get enough of my tongue play and my current boyfriend knew it. He had MarcAntony on all fours and me rimming him, or on his back and me sucking his balls. I paid attention to more and more of his beautiful body and frequently had the guy in such ecstasy that he could almost have dispensed with my current boyfriend's steel hard penis and cum - just with what I was doing to him.
He was an exhibitionist, though, so a vital part of the sessions, for, was always that my current boyfriend was watching, controlling, encouraging, praising, my current boyfriend held MarcAntony's head and kissing him got the full load of MarcAntony's passion, the passion I had excited by being between his legs.
MarcAntony didn't move into the house but he did frequently stop over and when he did I slept as before at the foot of the bed in my chain. At morning come I would gingerly wake my current boyfriend by licking his feet, until one day MarcAntony said "tongue my asshole, slave."
I was surprised he was awake. I looked up to my current boyfriend unable to establish the priorities in my head. My current boyfriend pulled MarcAntony's head round and kissed him and said "Good morning Sweetheart, you lovely, lovely kid," and then he said "Slave, do as he said." So I did, whilst they made the easy kind of love that suits naturally in the bed at sunrise.
That morning when I got to work I was late and my boss told me off. I don't know why he got so upset because people are often late. Brian made it clear he would have me so I made my way over to the toilet - but as I did so he cut me off and took me outside.
"I think you'd better watch out," he said, "because they aren't very pleased with your timekeeping. We don't want to lose you, do we? Why were you so late today, anyway?"
So I told him and then he really wanted to fuck me for being such a passive and humiliated slut - as he said. I didn't believe what he'd told me about work, but I reckon he was as much to blame for it as anybody.
Brian fucked me against the wall of the toilet and slobbered in my ear, "I want you to cum." I wanked myself off as quickly as I could.
"Good boy," he said. "I like you to get something out of it."
"Thank you."
I wiped my cum into my mouth.
"Good boy."
He did up his zip and left.
I had just got home from work. The first thing I heard as I came in the door was "Quick" - the voice of my current boyfriend. I rushed in. MarcAntony was feeding on my current boyfriend's dick.
I could see from MarcAntony's position that he really wanted it. His haunches were raised, his back was arched, his cheeks were widely separated, and his hole was almost speaking the words "Fuck me" through its puckered lips.
"Take over," ordered my current boyfriend.
I was confused.
He waved me over.
"Give him your dick."
I took out my penis and replaced it in MarcAntony's mouth as my current boyfriend removed his. He went round and started fucking MarcAntony vigorously.
I found it difficult to understand what was going on.
My current boyfriend was fucking MarcAntony unusually violently so that MarcAntony was constantly being pushed forward onto me. I felt awkward in this almost dominating position. MarcAntony's eyes were closed and his lips were clamped around me, his tongue caressing the underside of my cock.
Somewhat gingerly, I laid one hand on MarcAntony's dark glossy hair and pushed myself tentatively harder into him. He opened his eyes and tried to look at me - which was almost impossible. I took his head in both hands and started to force myself into his face more and more. He had one hand under his dick, feeling his hole where my current boyfriend's hard was feeding into him.
I looked up and caught my current boyfriend stroking MarcAntony's back, letting his eyes ride up to the broad muscled shoulders. He looked sad.
The next day when I got home my current boyfriend was sitting alone watching TV. I entered the room and knelt at his feet.
"Where is MarcAntony?" I asked.
"Who?"
"Sorry," I had forgotten that I am the only one who calls him MarcAntony. It's my secret name for him. I said his proper name.
"Oh, he hasn't turned up yet."
He asked me to make a cup of tea.
I didn't ask any more but MarcAntony didn't turn up again all the rest of that week. On Friday we went out to a club and my current boyfriend had me stand behind him the whole time, not doing anything. He didn't talk to many people, and only to say Hi.
After a few hours he got up and said, "C'mon, lets go," and walked out. I followed him.
I followed him down the street to where his car was parked. The light came on when he opened the door. I saw him reach across and unlock the passenger door, so I got in.
Even the car seemed depressed as he eased off the clutch and we moved into the middle of the empty road.
There was no point speaking. He has been drinking.
The next day he didn't want sex or anything and asked, just asked me to stop when I attempted to serve him in any of the usual ways.
After not too long, after breakfast, my current boyfriend was sitting in the kitchen twiddling the fat stem of an eggcup in his fingers.
"It's your fault," he said.
I didn't know what to say.
"It's your fault he wouldn't stay."
I waited.
"Your fault. Your fault. Your fault."
I wanted to apologise, but what had I done?
"Your fault."
He tapped the eggcup on the tabletop a few times and then put it down and left the room.
I cleaned up and then went through to the TV room where he sat staring at the silent screen.
I knelt at his feet and looking towards them in a kind of indifferent supplication - I didn't think I had done anything to apologise for - I said his name and then I said "Master. I'm sorry if I have done anything wrong. Please tell me what it is."
"Oh ya haven't done anything you stupid cunt," he said, leaning forward and rubbing my head. "It's my fault, all my fault. I shouldn't have his him."
I looked up.
"That afternoon, before you got home, I'd hit him. I thought ... it was alright, but, you know ... he never liked that."
"I like that," I thought and I thought of all the men who'd hurt me in my life.
"It was just the once. He walked off. He said I wasn't getting a second chance. Couldn't trust me. I'm a sadist ... apparently, so he said, and can only get sexual pleasure out of giving guys pain."
I leaned forward and kissed his toe. Then I knelt back on my heels.
"You're a good boy," he said. Then he wiped his face and stood up.
"Come here," he said and left the room. I followed. Upstairs in the small spare room my current boyfriend stood. He had picked up a cane. The closed curtains cast a funereal gloom over everything. He bent me over and gave me 20 cracks on my exposed bottom.
"That's a start," he said.
On the wall hung MarcAntony's white Italian suit.
"You might as well have that," he said, "you're about the same size." Then he went downstairs, grabbed his keys and went out of the house.
In the tall bedroom mirror I looked exotic and alien; my naked body felt as if it was floating in the suit, weightless, like a traveller in space. I looked valuable, expensive and astoundingly nubile, fluid. Beautiful.
Inside one of the pockets was a necklace. I put that on as well. It was slightly too tight and its beads dug into my neck, Blue, Gold and Black.
END - One thing I might do - Chapter 5 - gay authoritarian sex tale, by Simon Harper - sharper@inorbit.com - Please tell me what you think, especially if you like it ;-)