A kinky story written by Pete Brown | Chapter 12

Click here to see all published chapters | Illustration by Theo Blaze.

After that first night when we’d been totally together, there were very few opportunities in the next weeks.  Julie was home, of course, and with a new baby around she was even more harassed, and the house was even more cramped and busy.  Not that I was there all that much:  the early mornings and late nights because of the commuting really got to me, and most evenings it was more than I could do to keep awake after supper and I generally fell asleep in front of the TV, irrespective of the noises from the baby and so on.  There was no respite at the weekends, either: on Saturdays we were either at a local or regional show, or Dan had made an arrangement for a photoshoot.  Or failing any of that, he made me go in to the site, as even a day’s payment for that was better than nothing, he reckoned.  On Sundays we went to play football, but I didn’t always get to play as if the “real” free members turned up, I was of course excluded – I usually snuck into the changing block then and lay down and went to sleep, I was so exhausted.

With all this ceaseless activity the only real time that Dan and I were alone therefore was about one night a week, when we snatched an “illicit” half an hour in the woods on the way home from the station – we had to pretend that we’d missed the train, so Julie wouldn’t worry, and so we could only risk it about once a week.  It really wasn’t very satisfactory – that desperate fumbling with our clothes, the fevered hungry kisses, and then the fucking, which was more like rutting than love making as we had so little time and were so urgent in our needs.  I’m not sure that those snatched interludes weren’t worse than never feeling his body close to mine at all.

What  I think I hated most was the photoshoots – these had degenerated from me “posing” artfully with the stills photographer making salacious pictures of my body, to now having to take part in the filing of porn DVDs.  It wasn’t so bad, I suppose, when it was where they’d lined up a couple of other guys and some seedy director got us to fuck each other in various combinations, with a camera man always moving around us, poking the snout of his lens in at us. I usually managed to avoid getting fucked, as the directors recognised that I had a nice big cock and a natural talent for “topping” that seemed to come over on the screen (let alone that my muscular butt and legs made for spectacular shots from behind!), and so it was sensible to use me in that role.  But there’s only so many gay DVDs one bloke can make as the market gets “saturated” with the sight of him, Dan was told, and so he moved me on to making hetero porn.

Look, it would have been my dream at one time – getting to fuck reasonable looking women without  all the need to chat them up and all that kind of thing. But now it was different – for one thing, you try actually fucking with an audience watching you (well, the director, a cameraman, the other actors…. It was rarely less than six or seven people watching me go at it).  And for another, of course, I’d really gone off women and it was faintly disgusting to see their fat bodies under mine as I did the business.    Going home on the train after one of these sessions, Dan and I were in a relatively quiet corner of the carriage and I tackled him about it.

“Oh come on, Steve!” – I think he thought I was joking at first – “You were always telling me about all those women you’d had – and I bet the women you get put with now are a lot better looking than some of the stuff you’d have found in the bars and on the street corners in army towns!  There’s a lot of blokes  in the office at the site who’d give their eye teeth to have the chance to fuck some of that prime stuff you get put to.”

“Dan, please!  Since I met you…. Well, I don’t want to go with them….  I want you, Dan….”

“You know that’s not possible, Steve.”

“But Dan, it’s vile – making me fuck women, making me do it with all those people watching, too.  I have a hard time keeping it up sometimes, I can tell you.”

“Ah, so this is all about Steve fearing to fail, is it?  Well we can fix that for you, Steve – quite a lot of the blokes use Viagara, they tell me….”

“Dan, I don’t want to fuck women….”

“..and you know that the market for giving you a nice boy to go at has dried up!  We need to ‘rest you’ for a few months before you can do some more, to give time for the market to forget you a bit.”

“I was going to say, if you’d let me finish, that I don’t want to fuck anyone other than you…. We’re meant to be lovers….”

Dan went kind of silent then.  Then he leant close to me (and I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around him, but of course we couldn’t do that in public, on the train).  “Steve, you know how it is… We’re reliant on the money, and I can’t have you not working.  If it was just me, it would be easy… But there’s Julie, and the boys….  Steve, you’ve got to believe me…. I wouldn’t make you do this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“It’s OK for you to say that, Dan”.  I knew he was sincere, but I was still a bit pissed off.  “But it’s not you having to do it.  And I hate the women, and, another thing, they make me wear those disgusting condoms…”

“There’s some sort of agreement about that, Steve, so there’s nothing  I can do.  All the makers get the blokes to wear them.”

“They didn’t when I was doing the male ones!”

“That’s because they were intended for the ‘grey’ market:  it’s much more exciting for the audience to see two blokes going at it raw.  If they were for the normal market, you’d have to have a plastic mac on as well”

“Well I don’t like any of it.  I don’t like fucking the blokes publicly anyway, as I’ve said.  If I was going to fuck a bloke, Dan, I want it to be you… And we never seem to find time for it.”

“I know, Steve.  And don’t you think I want you, just as much as you want me?  Even more, probably.  But we’ve got to live in the real world: you know that as well as I do.”

“Dan, why don’t we just chuck it all in?  Get on a plane, run away, go and start a new life somewhere….”

Dan looked so wistful, but gave a little shrug.  “You know we can’t do that, Steve.  I’ve got responsibilities, even though you haven’t.  What would happen to Julie and Shane and Liam if I ran off with you?”

He looked worse then, and went on “It’s not that I don’t want to do it, Steve.  I can’t think of anything better than to be somewhere with you, living together…. So I could wake up every morning next to you in bed, like that night Liam was born….  But it isn’t going to happen, Steve – the price is too high.”

“So what’s going to happen to us, Dan?”

“Look, Steve, for the time being at least, we just have to go on the way we are.  Perhaps one day, when I’m free of debt….”

“It’s not enough, Dan.”

“Well it’s all there is.  There’s no way around it.”

“But I’m so fucking miserable… I want you, Dan…”

“And I want you, Steve.  You know that, don’t you. But we just have to make the most of what we’ve got.”

“That’s not good enough!”

Dan turned to face me as the train sped on through the night.  “Look, Steve, there’s only two choices:  go on as we are, or break it off, break it off totally.”

“We can’t do that….”

“We could, Steve.  Blokes break up all the time.  It’s more difficult for us, obviously, but I could sell you – I’d make sure you went to a good home, obviously, as I love you, Steve, and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you….”

I sat there, feeling so miserable.  I didn’t want to lose Dan – or could I trust my own feelings?  Was it that I didn’t want to lose him, or was it that I was afraid of being sold:  life working as Dan’s slave might be hard, and I might always be exhausted, and hate having to take part in porn… But it could be a whole lot worse, after all:  I could be down the mines, or working on a road crew, or something.  Or even being in a brothel, I suppose, having to fuck whatever came along – or being fucked by fat old geezers who had to pay for it.  I shuddered at the thought.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I knew it wasn’t my “selfish” feelings – it was that I couldn’t bear to be separated from Dan.  I wanted to put my arms around him then and crush him to me, feel his heart beating through his shirt, thrust my tongue down his throat, hold his cock, smell his sweat….. But on that fucking train all I could do is turn to him and mutter “Dan, I love you…. I couldn’t bear losing you, or not seeing you again….”

“Me too, Steve! So I guess we have to carry on then?”

“Yes, I guess so – those snatched moments are better than none.  But it’s fucking hard, Dan….”

“Oh for Christ sake, Steve, to hear you talk, you’d think you were the only one who was suffering!  Don’t you think it’s torture for me, too?  Seeing you lying there in the morning, and watching your body as you get up, and knowing it could be me lying next to you if things were different?  And how do you think I feel when I see you fucking those other men – and women – when you do the porn stuff?”

I sort of nodded in agreement, and we sat there in a mute, dumb silence for the rest of the journey, each alone with his thoughts, and his misery.

The only bright spot on the horizon was that the Great Northern Slave Show was on the horizon, held over three days at Harrogate.  It was much too far to travel every day, so I reckoned that there would be at least two nights alone with Dan!  And Dan gave me a conspiratorial wink as one night later in the week he was on the phone to a cheap hotel in the area – Julie was in the room, so he had to be careful in what he was saying.  I heard him ask about “facilities for slaves”, and then he repeated, perhaps a little too exaggeratedly, “You say they’re all caged together at night, and that it’s ‘plain but utilitarian’?”  There was a pause, and Dan went on “Well I’m sorry, but that’s not satisfactory – my slave’s a bit of a special one, and we’re at the Slave Show:  he has to be in tip-top condition, and so I think I’ll need to keep him near me.   How much more would it be for a double room?”

He talked a bit more, and then quoted his credit card number, and when he put the phone down he said, perhaps a bit brazenly “I’ve had to get a double room, Jules – I didn’t want Steve caged up with the other slaves overnight.  You never know what sort of riffraff get put in those communal slave dormitories at a hotel… And I can’t risk having Steve damaged, with the Show on….”

“Of course, Dan!  You did absolutely the right thing – it wouldn’t be very nice for Steve, anyway, to be in a cage….”

“Well I don’t expect it’s a cage, as such – more like a barracks room, or something, with them all locked up securely overnight.”

“No, you’re right, Dan – Steve deserves a bit of comfort if he’s going to win for us….  But I know what men are like when they’re away together:  I don’t want you and Steve drinking until all hours in the morning….. Or you taking him off to a sex club, or something….”

“Jules, be serious!  I’m not drinking with Steve, as he’s got to be in good condition.  And why would I want to go to a sex club, when I’ve got you….   No, we’ll be tucked up in bed by nine, at the latest!”

I had to look away, as I felt so embarrassed, as I earnestly hoped we would indeed be snug in bed that early!

When we got to Harrogate for the Show it was much the same as usual – Joe was in the rest and preparation area and we took the space next to him as we usually did, as Dan liked to talk to the Captain and get little hints and tips about the show world.  As I was stripping off and pulling my “show” shorts on, Joe took a good long look at me.

“So how’s it going, now you’ve lost the ‘skin?”

“Not as much fun when I wank.  But otherwise it’s OK, I suppose.”

“It’s for the best though, Steve – I reckon you’ll win this time, now you’re up to proper ‘breed’ standard.”

As he said this Joe moved closer to me, and reached down and took my cock in his hand.

“Hey…. Fuck off, will you?”

“Oh come on, Steve – I only wanted to see what kind of a job he’d done on you.  It feels pretty good, actually – so often the shaft isn’t smooth like this and there’s some roughness where the cut was made.”

“Joe, let go, will you?  I’m not some fucking queer… I don’t like blokes playing with my cock….”

Joe laughed, and still held on to my cock, which I realised was starting to erect as it was actually quite exciting to have another man holding my manhood in that semi-public place:  there was the usual number of “rubberneckers” looking over the low barriers, and of course I was stark naked as I hadn’t yet pulled my shorts on, and I could almost feel their eyes staring at my bum.

“Steve, stop bullshitting, will you?”, Joe laughed. “It’s well known that you like blokes – most of us have seen you on those DVDs Dan makes you do, and we can just tell that you like being with blokes.  Some of us watched a couple of them last week – one where you were fucking women, and the other when you had our cock up two or three nice slim lads – and you could just tell that it was a real chore for you to do the women, and you were really enjoying those men….”

“I don’t have any choice about it, you  know that. When your owner tells you to so something, you have to…”

“Steve, stop fooling yourself, will you?  And stop bullshitting me.  Of course you do what your owner tells you.  But some of it you enjoy a whole lot more than the rest!  And you’re like a lot of blokes, I reckon – you’ve found out that sex with other men is a whole lot more fun than just fucking women.  And your body’s giving you away now, too…. I can feel your cock going hard, can’t I?  There’s no fooling that, Steve….”

I didn’t know what to do.  Of course I was erect now, with Joe’s  warm hand wrapped around my cock and with his finger gently teasing the flange around my cock head – it was really sensitive,  and having his finger just touch it was a sensuous experience it itself. I’d found a whole new set of sensations following the ‘skinning, and having  something touching that part of my head always turned me on.

“Joe… Please…”, I hissed.  “All those people are watching us…..”

Joe didn’t let me go, though.  Instead, he curled his other arm around my waist, and pulled me closer to him so that we were so close that my cock was almost stabbing in to him, and our torsos were pressed close together.  His face was right up to mine, too, and he muttered “Come on, Steve, let’s give them a real show…..” As he suddenly pressed his lips to mine and pushed with his tongue.  Well, I was so surprised that my mouth opened, and then you know what it’s like when there’s a bloke’s tongue down your throat…. you just have to respond, don’t you?  And, a little to my own amazement, I found my hand going behind Joe’s head and pulling him even closer to me, so that I could in turn start to fuck his throat with my tongue.  At the same time I realised my erection was almost painful now, from where it was being crushed by Joe’s hand and our bodies, and as we moved and shuffled against each other, I could feel the power of Joe’s cock through his thin show shorts as he pressed against me.

I became aware of noises – chuckling, a few handclaps – and realised a little audience had collected on the other side of the low screens, an audience that was watching us with enormous interest.  “If they were dogs, I’d throw a bucket of cold water over them”, someone shouted.  “That’s the only way to separate dogs who try to mate in the preparation area!”

I pulled away from Joe, and stood there, panting from the arousal, and desperately searched in Dan’s kit bag for my shorts, then, still flustered and embarrassed, hopped around dementedly trying to pull them on and hide my cock and bum from the audience.  It was just as well, as Dan and the Captain came up shortly afterwards and Dan looked curiously at me.  “Are you OK, Steve?”

“Sure,  of course.  Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You look a bit flustered, that’s all.  And you’re blushing.  And there are some marks on your skin…..”  Dan reached out and gently stroked his hand over my waist, where Joe’s fingers had left pressure marks.

“Oh, well at least these aren’t serious… I thought for a moment you might have fallen against something and bruised yourself….. And we don’t want you losing marks for a poor show condition.  But what are they?….  It’s odd, as they look fresh…..”

“Joe was showing me a wrestling hold…”, I stammered.  “…and we forgot about  the possibility of skin marks…. I’m sorry….”

“Wrestling holds?”

I was recovering confidence now, but as with so many things, once you’ve started to lie, you have to carry on, and elaborate it.

“Yes… Joe had seen something on TV.  And he asked me about it, and whether we did that stuff in the army, and I told him I didn’t understand, so he started to show me…..”

Dan looked oddly at me, clearly not sure whether I was telling the truth.  So I stuttered on “But we didn’t do it… In the army, I mean…. So … Anyway, it doesn’t matter now…. But I can show you later, tonight…..  If you’re that interested….”

The Captain cut in then, glaring at Joe.  “I’ve warned you before, boy, not to fool around with the other slaves here in the preparation area!  Wrestling hold, indeed!”

“It’s true, sir….”, Joe’s voice was wheedling and sly, as if he was daring his owner to call him a liar.   “I thought Steve would know all about that sort of stuff, him having been in the army….”

“Well next time, boy, just sit quietly when I’m not here, or else after the show you’ll feel the cane again.  You remember last time?  You didn’t like it very much.  Didn’t like it at all, as I remember.  So beware.”

Dan looked at the Captain.  “Surely you don’t cane Joe?”

“Why ever not?”

“Well, he’s a mature man… Older than Steve, even. And a big man, too..”

The Captain looked surprised.  “Yes… And your point is?”

“Well”, Dan went on, “I thought that owners really only caned younger slaves – pups and so on, like the youngsters we see here….”

“Dan, you must run a very strange house, that’s all  I can say!  How on earth do you punish Steve when he’s disobedient, if you don’t cane him?  Surely you don’t use a whip?   I used to do the usual thing and withhold Joe’s food as a punishment, but then he started to get out of condition, so I had to revert to traditional means.  It doesn’t look to me as if you starve Steve…”

“No, of course not.  It’s just that the question of punishment doesn’t really arise – Steve’s obedient, and works hard.”

“My good sir….”  The Captain sounded shocked now as he addressed Dan.  “I think you’re missing out here! All slaves appear to work hard, but even so, they can always be made to give just that little extra if they’re ‘encouraged’ with the cane.”

“No, not Steve!  When he gets  away from the site where he works, he’s absolutely dead beat and exhausted….”

“You may believe he is.  He may even genuinely believe it himself.    But the human body always keeps a small reserve of energy back, ‘for emergencies’, so to speak.  Think of it – ancient man, hunting, might get totally exhausted as he did it.  But then a lion attacks and turns on him…. If he hadn’t got something in reserve to fight back with, or flee with, he’d be dead.  So he wouldn’t breed, or wouldn’t be as likely to breed as a man who had a small reserve of energy.  So evolution would favour the keeping of a reserve…. It’s all there in the theory of evolution, you know.”

“So are you telling me, Captain, that even if Steve was completely exhausted, and even believed himself to be that way, that if I caned him he’d do more work?”

“Exactly!  Every slave owner knows that, or ought to know it.  And as for being well-behaved – well, I don’t doubt it.  Joe’s perfectly well behaved, too… But sometimes he tends to bend the truth a little…. I don’t really believe this wrestling hold rubbish for a moment!  And then he needs to be reminded that there’s only one acceptable standard for a slave: complete honesty.  When we get home from this show Joe’s buttocks will certainly feel the cane to show him my displeasure, and I’d counsel you to do the same with Steve.”

“But I’ve never punished Steve…”

“Well there’s always a first time.  And it’s good for the slave – think of it that way:  it reminds him that you’re in control of him totally.  A free man never receives physical punishment, after all, so when you cane the slave it reminds him of lowly status. Sometimes I punish Joe for very minor things, just to reinforce that view.”

“I’m not sure I could actually take a cane to Steve’s bum…”

“My good sir, you simply must.  Most owners find the administration of corporal punishment to their slaves is extremely therapeutic  – for themselves, a s much as for the slave!  Once you get started, it can be hard to stop as you see the bright red marks break out across the skin…. There’s something special about striping a man’s buttocks with good hard strikes of the cane.”

I don’t think Dan wanted to continue wit this conversation, so he gave me a friendly slap on the bum, and half laughing, said “Well I think we’ll have to try that, Steve!  But not until the show is over, eh?  It wouldn’t do our chances of winning any good if there were lines across your bum when you have to parade around in the G, or the loin cloth!”

Well, I won’t bore you with another account of the heats and things, and, to tell you the truth, I almost didn’t care about them at all as I was so looking forward to the day being over and going off to the hotel with Dan.  So when we were “finished” I was in a real state of excitement as I pulled my jeans and T on, grabbed my jacket, and stood there by Dan as he fussed around saying goodnight to the other owners, and all that sort of stuff.

The hotel Dan had booked wasn’t in Harrogate itself as he said that it was too expensive, especially with the Show being on, and so we drove about twenty miles out to where it was on one of the major roads or other – one of those quasi-motel kinds of places with no “luxury”, just clean rooms at low prices.  When we went into reception there was a bit of an argument as the receptionist saw my collar, deduced – correctly – that I was a slave, and briskly told Dan that slaves were not allowed in the rooms, and that there was a slave caging and guardianship facility out in the back. Dan pointed out that he’d booked – and was paying for – double occupancy and that when he’d talked about caging when he made the reservation, he’d explained why this wasn’t possible as I was such a valuable slave, and he couldn’t risk me being damaged because of the Show.

The bitch was adamant, though, that as a slave I was not allowed in.  “It’s the other guests, sir – suppose they saw him in the corridor, or the breakfast room….”

“He’s perfectly respectable…. And we won’ be taking breakfast, anyway….”

“I’m sorry, sir.  The hotel rules absolutely forbid it, and  I apologise for the confusion that has arisen – the person taking your booking must have been unaware of the hotel’s policy.  I’ll gladly refund your deposit….”

“But we’ve got nowhere else to go, and I’m tired – I’ve had a long day….”

“I’m sorry, sir.  But those are the rules.  No slaves in the hotel.  If you take the slave out to the caging facility, I’ll gladly charge you only for a single room….”

Dan sighed, then turned to me.  “On your knees, Steve.”

I thought I’d misheard him at first, and just stood there.  “Not you, too, Steve!  I’m sick of arguing… I said to get down on your fucking knees! Now, just do it, will you?”

Shrugging, I knelt down, and the receptionist peered over the desk at me.  Dan reached down and used his key to undo my collar, and pulled it off and dropped it into his pocket.  “OK, Steve, on your feet….”

I got up, and Dan looked he receptionist straight in the eye.  “Now, that double room I booked….”

“Sir, as  I said, no slaves…”

“How dare you call my companion a slave!”, Dan countered.  “What makes you think he’s a slave?”

“The collar….”

“What collar?”

Just at that moment the front doors opened and a man and a woman came in.  Dan called to them “Sir, madam…. Be prepared to be insulted here!  This receptionist believes that if two people arrive here together, one of them is a slave!”

The couple looked at Dan oddly, and he turned to the receptionist again.  “Now, I’m going to watch you attempt to check those people in – and see whether you insist that one of them goes to the slave cages!  You have no more reason for supposing that one of them isn’t a slave, after all.  Perhaps they took their collar off in the car park…..”

Sensing defeat ,the receptionist almost threw a key across the desk at Dan.  He slapped me on the back, and,  both laughing, we went off to find the room.

Once in there, of course, we couldn’t wait to tear each others clothes off, even though the heating wasn’t on and it was a bit on the cold side.  And much as I wanted to kiss, and stroke, and fondle, and caress him, our needs were just too great:  I simply had to throw him across the bed, and then almost crush him with my body as I launched myself on top of him so I could get my cock lodged where it belonged.

The problem with those short, very intense bouts of fucking is that that really exhaust you, I think:  you put just as much effort into a five minute fuck as if you take your time over it.  But it was good – really good – for me, although poor Dan didn’t enjoy it quite as much as I realised I hurt him in my frenzy.  Not seriously, of course – but you know how it is when a cock goes in you and you haven’t been properly stretched and so on, and I hadn’t done that, so great was my need to get started.  So when Dan started to shout and cry out, I pushed his head down into the bed to shut him up a bit as I didn’t want us to disturb the other guests – in this cheap place I could hear the next door TV through the wall, and so I knew they could hear us if we made too much noise.  And afterwards as I lay on him, covered in sweat, I suddenly knew that I’d had an even better time that I’d thought – somehow “taking” Dan rather than making love to him properly and gently, was thrilling and exciting.

Even as I thought this, though, I began to be sorry. I loved Dan, after all, and I wanted to do all this stuff together, properly.  I got off him and went into the bathroom to wash my cock, and when I came back Dan was still lying there, motionless.  I threw myself down alongside him, and put one leg over him so that he could feel my body pressed all against his.

“Bastard!”, he muttered.

“Dan, I’m sorry….  But I wanted you so much.  I was desperate…. I don’t know what got into me…”

“Well  I know what got in to me!  And I’ll be sore from it for a week at least!”

“Hey, I said I was sorry… Anyway, don’t be such a wimp….”

“Steve, if you’d just taken cock like that, and been fucked that hard, you’d be complaining too, believe me.”

“Oh come on!  Just a bit of pain in your bum, and you make out it’s like the end of the world….”

“OK, that’s it!    I’ve told you before, Steve, that you need to remember to be respectful.  And you’ve gone too far, as usual.  So when we get home we’ll see how you react to a ‘just a bit of pain in the bum’ as you call it.  I’ll borrow one of the Captain’s canes, and we’ll see just how tough you really are when those red stripes start to cut across your buttocks…”

“You wouldn’t….. You can’t cane me….”

“I can, and I will. You’re a slave, remember?”

I turned to him and smiled.  “There’s just one problem, Dan…. Tonight, I’m not a slave…. At least not according to the hotel… And look…. No collar!”

He lay there, impassive.  So I went on “So I wonder what it’s like when two men want a bit of fun together, when, to the outside world, either of them could be the owner, and either the slave?”

Dan was still impassive, but I could sense his excitement was mounting.  I pulled him close to me and tried to kiss him, but he resisted – not very hard, but he did resist.

“You know, Dan, with all this talk of caning, I reckon that if one of those two men wasn’t co-operating, the other might think about encouraging him….. Or even punishing him, as if he was a slave…”   As I said this, I pushed myself away from Dan, sat on the edge of the bed, and then before he could react, I dragged him over to me – his hands scrabbled frantically at the covers as I used my strength to haul him along.  I pushed him over my knee, and slapped his bum hard, four times, twice on each cheek.  And then, of course, I pulled him upright and sat him on my thighs, and before he could resist any more I wrapped my arms around him so he couldn’t escape, and started to kiss him.

This time he didn’t resist – far from it!  His hands were around me, racing feverishly up and down my back, and when we eventually did break off he was almost mad with frustration.   He was laughing, as he said “You bastard, Steve…. You know I can’t retaliate!”

“…because I’m big and strong, and I can pick you up and put you across my lap…”

“…because I can’t risk damaging your skin, stupid! I can’t even hug you properly, in case I bruise you. And I want to push my fingers into your muscles, bite your shoulders…. And slap your bum, too….”

“So are we friends again, then?”

“Steve, we’re owner and slave….”

“No, stupid… Tonight!  You took my collar off, remember?  Now, as we’re both equal, at least here in this room, let’s make the most of it…..”

Well it was absolutely amazing, absolutely the best sex I’d ever had.  Dan was rock hard after his little spanking, and I  gently pushed him back onto the bed and started kissing and licking him all over, ending up with a mouth full of his cum after what, by any standards was an epic blow job.  But then I was ready for it again, and this time, in spite of his protests that he didn’t think he could take my cock again as he was so sore, I took it so slowly and gently that it went beyond the merely sensual and erotic onto a whole new plane of enjoyment that left us exhausted and helpless in each others arms.

The problem with such epic sex is that it makes you sleepy, as I’m sure you know.  In my imagination I’d been looking forward to lying awake most of the night, feeling Dan against me and the warmth of his breath on my  skin, and then waking him gently, ever so gently, by the ardour of my love making.  But instead of that it was all wasted – Dan was shaking me awake as it was morning and we had to be up and off to the fucking Show!    Still, Dan fussed around, watching me as I showered and shaved, and it was really fun to have his hands all over me as he tested and probed to make sure I was squeaky clean and smooth, although he wouldn’t wank me or anything, as he said it would probably be worth some extra points if I  “showed I was interested” when the judges felt my cock and balls.

To be continued …

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