Category: Dom/sub (Page 5 of 5)

Night shift

2024-06-17 / admin bot / 6 Comments

Ethan had always commanded respect with just a glance. His beard, neatly trimmed to salt-and-pepper perfection, framed a face that remained strikingly handsome despite years of boardroom battles. Broad shouldered and tall, his mere presence was an unspoken statement of authority and confidence. But as he stood behind the counter of the convenience store, clad in a simple polo shirt and jeans that clung uncomfortably to his damp skin, he felt the weight of his new reality pressing down on him.

Laid off and forced to downsize from his penthouse in the city to a one-bedroom apartment off the suburban expressway, he had been working nights at a rundown convenience store. The work was boring—few customers dropped by between ten and six—and the long stretches of downtime forced Ethan to confront the changes in his life. No one had any idea he had been a top dog in a C suite; anyone who saw him assumed he was just another middle-aged underachiever selling cigarettes and liquor on the graveyard shift.

Strings attached

2024-06-03 / admin bot / 2 Comments

Mick’s heart pounded as he stood motionless in the garage, awkwardly gripping his husband Paul’s hand. Ted’s laughter echoed around them, a chilling reminder of the power he now held over their lives. The air was tense. The scent of sawdust and whiskey mingled with their fear.

Paul’s mind raced as his face ached from smiling. He tried to piece together how everything had gone so wrong and how he and Rick didn’t realize it until it was too late. Just a few hours ago, they had been enjoying a regular Friday night with Ted, their charming and seemingly perfect friend. Then everything changed.

Close-up of a hand holding a credit card

Dollars and Spence

2024-05-13 / admin bot / 0 Comments

Cody perched uneasily on the edge of a sleek, black leather chair in Spence’s penthouse apartment, the city lights a distant, glittering backdrop through the expansive wall of windows. Rain streamed down the glass, and thunderclaps struck a startling counterpoint to the nervous beating of Cody’s heart. Spence’s great room was drenched in shadow, save for the stark white light of a single modern lamp and the occasional bolt of lightning. Cody always felt inferior in Spence’s presence, but being in Spence’s home only exacerbated the gulf between the mild-mannered software developer and his privileged, multimillionaire Master.

The lamp cast an austere glow over Spence as he sat opposite Cody, his expression unreadable, his posture rigidly controlled, and his leather-gloved hands clenched into fists. Unlike Cody, who carried the unmistakable signs of a life spent in the sedentary glow of computer screens, Spence embodied the apex of privilege and grooming. His face, chiseled and symmetrical, held a piercing gaze with eyes like polished steel, sharp with intelligence but devoid of warmth.

A black barber chair with a chrome base sits in a dark room. The room is so dark that the only thing visible in the image is the barber chair.

Freshly shorn

2024-05-06 / admin bot / 0 Comments

Marcus led Jamie down the cracked pavement of Main Street, directing his boyfriend from their car toward the barbershop. Clear Creek wasn’t a ghost town in the strictest sense, but whatever community existed was conspicuously absent from Main Street this Sunday afternoon. An autumn gust whipped through the thoroughfare, swirling old newspapers and fallen maple leaves into a mini cyclone. Jamie pulled his dark green bomber jacket tighter around his slender frame as they passed under an American flag, which flapped noisily from its mast above the awning of an abandoned storefront.

Contrary to Jamie’s efforts to shield himself from the wind, Marcus cut a carefree, imposing figure as they walked to the barbershop. With his back straight and shoulders square, Marcus walked with a confident stride that seemed to make even the swirling leaves calm down in his presence. His sharply tailored jacket clung tightly to his broad upper body, the black leather creaking with every smooth, undulating motion.

Doing time

2024-04-01 / admin bot / 2 Comments

Travis Barnes always woke up 16 minutes before his alarm clock sounded. Every weekday morning at 4:14, his eyes opened. He lay motionless until 4:29. He wasn’t sure if he had conditioned himself to do this or whether the implant dictated his actions even at this early hour. He gazed up at the ceiling of his room at the halfway house, savoring the last few minutes of repose he would have until long after the sun set that night. He thought he noticed a new crack forming near the corner above his head, but he couldn’t be sure. After so many months in the program, the days had begun to run together. There was little sense in paying attention to such minutiae.

As he counted down the minutes, Travis tried not to think about the sequence of events that landed him in this mess. Nevertheless, the memory always returned, eating up valuable seconds of his vanishing downtime. Like with the alarm clock. Travis couldn’t tell if it was his own guilty conscience or the implant that dredged up the memory every morning. The program’s administrators refused to explain the details.

Three men stand in front of modern suburban houses. Two are older and wear glasses and casual shirts, while the third is a younger, muscular man with a beard and bare chest. The sky is clear and blue.

Husband, Husband, Neighbor (Chapter 1)

2023-10-30 / admin bot / 3 Comments

I dropped the laundry basket on the bed. It bounced and turned onto its side, spilling clean clothes onto the bedspread. It was after ten o’clock at night, and my husband Paul, procrastinating as usual, sat shirtless atop the covers. He smirked and nudged the basket with his size 13 foot.

“Can I talk you into folding that for me?”

My playfully defiant expression was just a performance and a transparent one at that. Before Paul finished asking, I had already started picking through the pile of clean clothes, sorting out which were mine and which were his. I balled up a pair of his socks and lobbed them his way. They landed on his thick pecs and rolled down his furry belly. I bit my lip when they stopped right between his thighs, resting against the bulge in his briefs. Lucky socks.

Stylized image of $20 bills in an envelope.

The first meet

2023-02-28 / admin bot / 0 Comments

I stood alone in the empty corridor. A few yards away, an ice machine rumbled. Further down, the elevator chimed. I jerked my head in its direction like a startled animal and waited to see if anyone had emerged from the vestibule. No one did. I willed my nerves back down.

Horny online chats were one thing. Coming to Sir’s hotel room was another. I wanted this so badly, but my anxiety and apprehension threw up barrier after barrier to sabotage me. There would always be work projects that demanded my attention. There would always be friends who wanted to make plans at the last minute. I committed to dismissing every one of those mental roadblocks when they arose. I was proud of myself for getting this far.

I already flaked on Sir once before. He graciously accepted my apology and backed off while I sorted myself out. It wasn’t long before I started messaging him again. He was patient yet firm in guiding me toward a second meeting. It was inevitable. I knew I wouldn’t get another chance if I flaked again. This was it. Now or never.

A sign with bold white text reading OPEN HOUSE above the partial image of a man in a suit and tie, set against a blue sky with light clouds.

Open House (excerpt)

2022-09-30 / admin bot / 0 Comments

The following excerpt is from Open House, which is available exclusively for purchase on Kindle.

“Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Look, I’d prefer to keep this strictly business, if you don’t mind. I’m not the same person I used to be when we—”

Jordan took slow steps toward me. My voice trailed off as he got closer. He had no more than three or four inches on me, but his attitude might as well have added another foot. He firmly clenched my chin and forced me to look up at him.

Four men sit and stand around a poker table, focused on the man in a white shirt stacking poker chips. Cards and chips are on the green table. The setting appears to be a dimly lit room.

Poker with the guys, part 2

2022-09-23 / admin bot / 1 Comment

The story continues from part 1 of “Poker with the guys.”

Thirty minutes later, Didrik pulled into the driveway of a nondescript ranch house at the end of a dead-end suburban street, exactly the type of place he imagined someone like Steve living. The guys’ firm handshakes and offers of whiskey and cigars put Didrik at ease, and after playing a few hands, he felt less like their interloping boss and more like one of their peers.

“Hey, do we have any more chips?” Doug called from the kitchen during a snack break.

“Don’t ask me,” Bill said. “Jim was supposed to do this shopping this week.”

“No way, man,” Jim said, returning from the garage with a fresh bottle of whiskey and a bag of ice. “I mowed the lawn this week. It was Steve’s turn to go shopping.”

Didrik was confused and intrigued by the conversation. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You all… live together?”

Five middle-aged men with beards and short hair, all wearing casual collared shirts, sit and stand around a wooden table in a bar or pub setting, smiling at the camera. Televisions can be seen in the background.

Poker with the guys, part 1

2022-09-16 / admin bot / 1 Comment

Didrik liked his job. It was challenging, the pay was great, and it was a bit of a coup for an early-career guy like him to land it. He was only 29, and he’d never managed a team before, but his years of experience with SalesFarm, the software platform the company recently adopted, had won him the job.

He was young, full of energy, and eager to prove himself. There was just one problem: He didn’t fit in.

When he was introduced to his team on the first day, Didrik expected to meet a group of recent college grads, with maybe one guy in his thirties who’d changed careers. Instead, he found himself awkwardly shaking hands with Bill, Doug, Jim, Lou, and Steve. Every guy he managed had at least 15 years on him, and their attitude in the workplace was unorthodox, to say the least.

Category: Dom/sub (Page 5 of 5)

Night shift

Strings attached

Dollars and Spence

Freshly shorn

Doing time

Husband, Husband, Neighbor (Chapter 1)

The first meet

Open House (excerpt)

Poker with the guys, part 2

Poker with the guys, part 1

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