Tag: Master/slave (Page 1 of 2)

A person stands alone at night in front of an abandoned, graffiti-covered building, holding a large duffel bag. The ground is littered with debris, and the scene is dimly lit and eerie.

Rubber Reboot 3

2025-11-16 / admin bot / 0 Comments

Chapter 3: Studio 4B

Catch up on chapter 2 if you haven’t already…

At 3:17 a.m., the bus deposited him onto a curb slick with last night’s beer and piss. Barry stood under the streetlamp, envelope clutched to his chest, flip flops dangling from dumb toes. The building across the street was a six-story corpse, most of its windows blinded with plywood. He crossed when the crosswalk beeped, counting each chirp like a heartbeat. A hand-scrawled sign taped to the buzzer read: 4B—VACANT.

Inside, the hallway stank of piss and lukewarm takeout. One fluorescent tube flickered overhead, strobing the peeling wallpaper. Barry’s key scraped the lock three times before the tumblers finally gave. The door to 4B opened into a cloud of mildew. The studio was no more than 200 square feet. A bare mattress lay on the floor, and a mini fridge hummed like an angry bee in the opposite corner. The single window overlooked an air shaft where a lone pigeon cooed. Barry stepped in, shut the door, and the walls closed around him again. Walls are good. Walls are boundaries. The thought was comforting.

A man stands on a suburban sidewalk at night, holding a map and a large bag, illuminated by streetlights, with houses and a tree visible in the background.

Rubber Reboot 2

2025-11-09 / admin bot / 1 Comment

Chapter 2: Where Will it Go?

Catch up on chapter 1 if you haven’t already…

The crate lid lifted with a metallic sigh. Fluorescent light knifed down, and Barry’s eyes, used to blindfolds and blackout sclera lenses, watered instantly. The crate’s latex lining peeled away from his knees with a wet kiss. Mack’s hand closed around the posture collar and hauled upward. Barry’s legs had forgotten their job; joints popped like cheap plastic. He sagged, rubber squeaking against rubber, until Mack braced him against the playroom wall.

“Stand up, object.”

A bearded man wearing glasses carves a roasted turkey on a large platter in a warmly lit dining room, preparing to serve a meal.

Rubber Reboot 1

2025-11-02 / admin bot / 3 Comments

Chapter 1: The Table

The first thing Barry knew was pressure: knees folded to chest, wrists cuffed to ankles behind him, the posture collar locked so tight his chin could not dip. The second thing was heat. The rubber lining the underside of the dining room table had warmed to blood temperature hours ago; now it clung like a second, wetter skin. He breathed through dime-sized holes drilled along an acrylic lid, each exhale fogging the glass for a heartbeat before the vents sucked it away. Above him, the room glowed amber.

Thanksgiving. Year Five.

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.

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.

Stylized image of a man entering numbers on an ATM keypad

Poker with the guys, part 3

2022-10-11 / admin bot / 1 Comment

The story concludes from part 2 of “Poker with the guys.”

Time slowed to a crawl. Each pace down the hallway felt a mile long. With their large, rough hands, the guys placed steady pressure on Didrik’s shoulders and pushed him toward the bedrooms. Didrik could hear his heartbeat pounding in time with his footsteps. His cock stiffened. He adjusted his gait to lessen the friction against his pants, but the strange walk caught the guys’ attention. At the end of the hallway, Doug reached around from behind Didrik and stroked his erection.

“Well, well, well,” Doug said. The unlit cigar between his clenched teeth gave his voice a raw, menacing edge. “Looks like boss boy is enjoying himself.”

Steve stood in the doorway and pulled Didrik closer by his chin. “How about that? You excited, boy?”

Didrik nodded. “Yes, Sir. Sirs.”

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.

Two men in business attire have a serious discussion in a modern office. One man sits at a desk, appearing thoughtful, while the other stands nearby, engaging in conversation. Large windows and bookshelves fill the background.

The handshake

2022-09-09 / admin bot / 0 Comments

Harry tapped his fingertips against his desk, growing more impatient with each passing minute. He’d never had to wait ten minutes for an employee to respond to his emails, and the lack of response had gone from inconvenient to irritating. He scrolled through the list of his direct reports on the company’s instant messenger client, and his brow furrowed when he saw a small, yellow circle denoting inactive next to each of their names and portraits.

“It’s ten-thirty in the morning,” Harry said to himself. “Where the hell is everybody?”

Man's black-leather gloved hands holding a cell phone in the right hand and four credit cards in the left hand

Courtesy call

2022-08-26 / admin bot / 0 Comments

Marc’s hands trembled as he reached for his cell phone. As soon as he had it safely in his sweaty palm, a pair of gloved hands clamped onto his shoulders and pulled him roughly back into his chair. Marc sighed with pleasure as the scent of Master’s leather gear filled his nostrils, and the sensation of Master’s hands on his naked body sent waves of arousal radiating outward from each point of contact.

The phone continued to ring, but Marc hesitated to answer. He felt awkward taking this call while sitting naked in his Master’s dungeon. It was a further step in blurring the lines between facets of his life that were, until recently, strictly compartmentalized. Master deserved credit for blurring a lot of those lines Himself, and Marc had a hunch that the bank’s urgent requests to speak to him might be related to his new status as Master’s slave.

Four men with beards wear black leather jackets and stand confidently in a dimly lit bar, with shelves of bottles behind them. The man in front wears gloves and a cap, giving a commanding presence.

Reinforcements (My perfect dad 38)

2022-08-12 / admin bot / 0 Comments

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

Out in the real world, I was usually invisible. I preferred it that way. When no one is paying attention to you, there’s no one to disappoint. No one makes your life miserable just because they’re bored and they’ve decided to make you their free entertainment. At my job, I was just another junior copywriter, one of a dozen laboring away in identical cubicles. At my favorite bookstore, I was just some brainy nerd who knew everything there was to know about the Diet of Worms. In my group of friends, I was the quiet one who always showed up on time and who always left behind extra cash to supplement everyone else’s embarrassingly small tips. In the real world, I was ordinary and unremarkable. Maybe even forgettable.

But at home, I was Master Paul, the young, dominant owner of three hot, submissive, older men. Every morning I woke up to one of them gently kissing Me awake, while another ironed My work clothes and the third prepared breakfast. Everywhere else, I was just another mild mannered twenty something with too many student loans and a goatee that never quite grew in right. But here, I am the Master, and what I say goes. They’re all 20 years or more My senior, and each of them is a respected professional in their field. But at home, they’re My property.