A Master And His Slave

Ivo doesn't interact with the men in Rio's dorm. Although they try to make conversation with him, he isn't friendly, and walks away from people in the middle of sentences. He's been horny for weeks. There's no reason why sexual submission should be so enticing. When the game ends and the spectators begin to file out, Ivo waits for a bus. This always takes longer than it should. He can see the lights of the buses approaching, and hear their tires on the road, but can't tell which bus is which without being told.

The doors to the college are unlocked. The hallways are dark, empty, it's only ten at night. Most of the students who live on campus are in their dorms by now. Rio always stays up late, surviving on coffee and energy drinks. Ivo hates energy drinks. The only thing he drinks is iced coffee. The dorm room is messy and disarrayed, with clothing and clutter all over the floor, so that Ivo steps on it when he walks. "Hey, Four-Eyes. Miss me?" Rio knows he's hot, and this is infuriating.

"You wish, dipshit." Rio thinks he's so cool, fitting in easily and never struggling with anything a day in his life. The guy even got a scholarship to college, spending his teenage years with doctors for parents while Ivo froze to death on the street. It isn't Rio's fault he's had an easy life. But it isn't fair. Life isn't fair, and Ivo isn't bitter.

"Uh huh. That's why you're looking at me like you want to jump my bones."

When he was fifteen, Ivo lost his virginity in a motel room, to a much older man, after meeting him online. The man was in his thirties, and made Ivo feel special by buying him gifts and taking him on vacations, but this was all a secret. Ivo is old enough now to realize the truth behind this relationship. As a teenager, like all teenagers, he was just desperate for validation.

"Shut the fuck up." His dick hurts. The cage is plastic and tight, and gets in the way when he tries to jerk off. This is the point of wearing it, but he's been frustrated for days, and it leaves him irritable. When Rio touches his arm, he nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Strip. Now." He lets Ivo go, abruptly, turning to the side table by the couch. When he checks on the boy, who hasn't moved, he snarls. "Did I stutter, bitch? Strip before I get the paddle out." Rio can be aggressive when he's horny. Nobody is obligated to play along. Rio does whatever he wants, and Ivo never complains.

Ivo begins to undress, letting his clothes fall to the floor by his feet, nearly bumping his glasses off his face. "Good boy." After removing his jeans, Rio grabs him, pins him against a wall.

Ivo began to question himself when he was thirteen. It was a long process, and Ivo remembers lying to himself for months, even years afterwards. Now he realizes how stupid that was. He supposes there had always been hints at his sexuality, from the time he was a little boy. He's always been into wolves. Still, he's never had a relationship: not a proper one, nothing outside of random hook-ups and make outs. Ivo has fucked a lot of people. If you called him a slut, he probably wouldn't disagree.

He could change his mind anytime. He could opt out altogether by saying one short word. He never does. He lets Rio do whatever he wants, and there's no reason why. He's annoying and pushy. Ivo trusts absolutely no one except for him. Rio touches his dick, pinning his wrists against the wall easily with one hand, holding the key to the cage in the other. "Are you ready to cum now, whore?" Knowing him, it isn't this easy. "I don't know if I've kept you waiting long enough." Begging is humiliating. Humiliation is arousing, and there's no telling why. He hated Rio: his obnoxious laugh and aggravating attitude. He's shouted at him multiple times in frustration, and he always comes back. Nobody ever comes back.

"Please."

The living spaces are always loud. Everybody needs to be the center of attention. Rio unlocks the cage, but doesn't remove it. "What do you want?"

Fuck him. He thinks he's a god. He has rough hands and muscular arms. His hair is loose, tickling Ivo's face. "You know what I want, asshole."

"Do I?" The cage is made of plastic, and it's a relief when it's taken away. Rio is very close, touching Ivo lightly with his fingers, making him shiver. "I'm not sure I do. Tell me." Rio always leaves him desperate for more. He'll never say this out loud. He can't stand the guy. If he suddenly went missing, Ivo might spend a brief moment or two wondering where he'd gone.

He squirms. "Fuck you."

"You're nothing but a cum dumpster, Flower."

There's no limits to the things Rio can call him. Ivo's never been good for anything outside of fucking and sucking. When Rio says nice things to him, he always starts an argument. Rio gives good head, but rarely does it. He's slow, and uses both halves of his split tongue to tease, making Ivo squirm and grumble. He isn't usually vocal. When you've been pent up for weeks without release, it's hard to control yourself.

He wriggles, pushing himself further into Rio's mouth, tugging on his hair. He's greedy, groaning, desperate to cum. He never groans. There's something satisfying about making people beg. Rio has made a lot of people beg. He loves to be in control, and to watch his subs whine and whimper, waiting for more. Ivo can't move - but it's not like he tries very hard. It's easy to tell when someone is about to cum. Instead of getting Ivo off, he lets go.

"Rio!"

Ivo rarely calls him by his name. With the desperation in his voice, it sounds like heaven. It never matters. He's never finished until Rio says he's finished. He whispers, inches from Ivo's face, far closer than necessary. "Suck my cock."

Although Ivo frowns, there's a twinkle in his eye. "No."

There's always a limit. There always has to be space to change your mind. Ivo likes being treated as an object. He says this himself. "Do it. Now." Rio yanks the skinny man onto the floor at his feet. "If you don't, I'll have to punish you. Would you rather I use my hand or a paddle?" At times, Rio feels as though he takes things too far: like he's too aggressive, or too degrading. But Ivo is hard to offend, and he never holds back on expressing himself. When Rio started becoming interested in relationships, his parents made sure to teach him about safe, responsible sex. "You always need to be certain everything you do is consensual," they'd say. There isn't much that makes him feel uncomfortable.

Ivo's given him head before. He's good at it, and he never looks away. Rio puts his head back, his hand pressed against the side of Ivo's face, guiding it. "You're a slut."

Rio is good at switching up his tactics. Ivo looks up at him, flushed. "Mhm."

"Say it." Rio smirks, his fingers tight and stiff around Ivo's hair. He stretches out, using one hand to effortlessly guide the boy's head. Rio gets off on degrading people. Ivo gets off on being humiliated. He's disobedient. Rio slaps him across the face. "I said, say it. So I can hear you."

It's hard to speak with a cock in your mouth. Ivo doesn't seem to struggle, which is disappointing. "I'm a slut."

Rio grunts, his hair loose and covering half his face. It's hardly ever loose. He takes Ivo by the hair, yanking his head, so that the two men are eye-to-eye. "You're a bitch." He holds the boy's hair tightly, tugging, and spits in his mouth. "Aren't you, Flower?"

Ivo wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good boy." Rio lets Ivo's hair go, kisses his mouth roughly, not afraid to cause pain. He really is beautiful: pale and soft, looking like a porcelain doll. Rio grabs him, throws him on his back on the unmade bed. "I'm going to fuck you now," he says, breathing in Ivo's face. "Hold still." He adjusts, shoves himself inside with vigor, listens to the quick exhale from a sub who just can't keep quiet. "You're going to do what I tell you, and you're going to be good about it. Aren't you?"

Ivo's a brat. He does what he wants, and doesn't care what kind of punishment Rio has waiting for him. "I'll do what I want, idiot." He squirms, getting comfortable, watching in the mirror. "Are you finally going to let me cum?"

Rio grumbles, fucking the man noisily and roughly. "Only if you deserve it." Past partners have told him they like his animalistic behavior. He groans in Ivo's ear, and scratches down his stomach, and tosses him around like an animal fighting with its prey. "Stop touching yourself, bitch. I'll get to you later."

There's clothing all over the bed. Ivo wiggles and squirms, one eye crossing underneath his glasses. His eyes do this a lot. "What if I don't? You'll punish me?" He breathes loudly, grabbing Rio by the hair.

"I love it when you're needy." Rio grips Ivo by the wrists, holding his arms down above his head, spitting in his face. "You're not very good at listening, are you, Flower?" He's unsure why he keeps using this nickname: but it fits the mood, and it seems suiting. He teases Ivo's cock with his hands, fucking him roughly, enjoying the sight of the man helpless and whimpering. Ivo's not the vulnerable type. It's an exciting change of pace watching him come undone. There's something satisfying about making people beg. Rio has made a lot of people beg. He loves to be in control, and to watch his subs whine and whimper, waiting for more. He loves to leave Ivo horny for days, and then torment him. He's unforgiving: forcing Ivo to cum over and over again, until he writhes and twitches at the simplest of touches, until he begs to stop. Rio never cums quietly. He grunts and growls, holding Ivo by the hair, spilling into him with desperation, until both men are sticky and breathless.

Ivo is flushed. Rio lies on top of him, their naked bodies shimmering with sweat, tangled together. "You're pretty, you know that? I love the way you look with my cum all over you."

Ivo frowns. "Shut up."

It's getting late, and Rio is beginning to get tired. Cumming always makes him tired. "You know," he says, stretching out, showing off his toned body, "it wouldn't kill you to accept a compliment once in a while." He rolls over, pulling Ivo on top of him. The room smells like sex and sweat.