Slave Master

It didn't take much longer before Stephen felt Tom's cock begin to fatten and pulse inside his mouth. Stephen knew what this portended, but even so the first pulse of semen was so copious it took him by surprise and he sputtered. Coughing, Stephen released the twitching, spewing organ from his mouth.. The meant the next spurt hit Stephen in the face, covering his nose and left cheek. Stephen used his grip to point the cock away from his face after that, as there was still a surprising amount coming out.

Tom gave out a long, satisfied sigh. Stephen smiled, happy to have pleased the other man. Tom shifted his upper body away and Stephen wondered what he was doing, but soon he was back and reaching for Stephen, firmly pushing the older male over so that Stephen went on his back. Then Tom reached under the nightgown to find the thong Stephen was wearing and quickly freed Stephen's hard little penis from the satin with one hand. The other hand proved to be covered in massage oil, and with expert strokes Tom coaxed a powerful orgasm from Stephen, accompanied by Stephen's loud moans of pleasure.

Stephen lolled back on his pillow when Tom finished, breathing hard. Before he could object Tom turned the bedside lamp on. Immediately Stephen felt embarrassed and ashamed. He could barely look at Tom, suspecting he'd be grinning in triumphant mockery.

He wasn't. In the light Tom's face was once more set in the composed, neutral expression Stephen had come to know.

"I would be happy to fetch towels to clean you off now, sir." Tom's voice betrayed no hint of what just happened.

Stephen sighed. "Yes, Tom. That would be a good idea."

[]

It was the next night. The usual bedtime massage lulled Stephen nearly to sleep, but as soon as Tom turned off the lights and got into the bed he came wide awake. Stephen reached out and touched Tom's shoulder.

"Don't turn on the lamp," Stephen murmured, voice trembling with eagerness.

Tom said nothing. Stephen moved closer, nestling up against Tom's warm body, pressing his burgundy silk babydoll-clad form against the other man. Stephen began stroking the masseur's muscular torso. His breath was already coming short as his arousal grew, but Tom remained unaffected.

Stephen started to kiss his way down Tom's chest as he had the night before, but this time Tom's strong hands checked him. Stephen looked up at him, wondering why.

"I need to know what you are," Tom said firmly.

Stephen blinked. It was hard to make out Tom's expression the in darkness, and the other man's voice was bland. "What? What do you mean?"

"The lights are out and you're not the master," Tom reminded. "That's what you wanted. If you're not the master, then what are you?"

Stephen was at a loss. This is not anything he'd thought about, in fact if he'd considered it carefully Stephen would have undoubtedly told himself he was making a complete fool of himself and tried to talk himself out of it. "I don't know," Stephen confessed.

Tom's voice was measured but relentless. "No, I think you do. You're wearing sexy lingerie meant to arouse the man you're with. Without even waiting for him with to ask you fondle his cock. Then you suck him off, simply because it's what someone like you does when they're in bed with a man. So, what does this make you?"

With it stated so bluntly there's clearly only one answer. "A whore," Stephen whispered faintly.

Tom's voice now bore a tinge of amusement. "What's that? I'm not sure I heard you."

"A whore. When the lights are out I'm a whore," Stephen admitted, blushing furiously.

"That's exactly right," Tom answered. He released his grip on Stephen, and immediately Stephen went back to kissing his way back down Tom's body toward what was under his loincloth, the prize waiting for Stephen's lips and tongue.

[]

After that, every night when the lights went out Stephen returned to his new-found role as Tom's whore. Reveling in Tom's body, pleasuring him orally. Tom reciprocated with a skillful oiled hand, either after he'd been satisfied or sometimes, if the position was right, while Stephen's mouth still engulfed his manhood.

Stephen sometimes worried that Tom might want to do more, to respond in kind by sucking his master's dick. He was always relieved when Tom didn't mention the possibility. It seemed such an odd worry to have that Stephen was forced to contemplate it at times he wasn't in bed. Certainly most people would think it strange that Stephen didn't want same pleasure he was giving to the other man, but Stephen was sure he didn't. The very idea of it happening made Stephen unhappy, and exploring his feelings he discovered it was because that would mean acknowledging to himself that he's a man having sex with another man. This sort of straight-forward homosexuality was never part of Stephen's long-held fantasies or his erotic dreams. It would be as bad as doing it without wearing lingerie, the outward symbol of Stephen's inward desire to submit and be a whore for a man.

In retrospect Stephen now realized this is the reason why he'd ended up turning away from the student he'd done such things with a few times back in college. When Stephen had sucked the other student off the man had wanted to return the favor, but that offer, even without the reality, ruined the experience for Stephen. Stephen became nervous and uncomfortable every time the other student suggested that he suck Stephen instead of vice versa, and eventually Stephen had stopped associating with him and lost a good friend.

Tom however didn't seem to have any desire to do more to Stephen than he was already doing. Certainly he never said anything about it, but then he still said very little at all during the night games the two of them played. His communication with Stephen at these times was mostly by touch. A nudge or gentle pressure, a heave of Tom's hips, a motion in bed.

Tom's hands spoke very eloquently. The masseur rapidly discovered how he could change the way Stephen acted merely by touching him in various spots, particularly when it was through whatever lingerie Stephen was wearing so that the material rubbed on Stephen's sensitive skin. Before long Tom had learned how to play Stephen like an instrument, he could vary how passionately Stephen was going after his cock merely by stroking or refraining from stroking certain areas.

Sometimes in bed Stephen felt almost like a puppet dancing on Tom's strings.

[]

It has been only a few weeks since that first time, but Stephen's lust for Tom was only growing. Even during the daylight hours Stephen was constantly distracted and unable to concentrate due to thoughts of what awaited him once the lights go out in his bedroom.

That night Stephen put on a blue satin half-slip and matching tanga panties and got into bed before Tom arrived. When he came in Stephen was too eager to wait, he told Tom to forget the massage and to turn out the lights.

Tom settled with his back propped up on pillows. Stephen crawled half atop him, kissing his neck and chest and sighing softly. Stephen worked his way down towards his goal as usual, but once he'd freed Tom's cock and was about to take it in his mouth Tom's hands grabbed Stephen's head by the hair. Tom tugged Stephen irresistibly back up so that Stephen was forced to looked up at him. His eyes stared at Stephen's face in the dim light.

"Tell me what you are," he insisted.

Stephen felt his face redden. "A whore."

"Yes. What am I?"

"My lover?" Stephen hazarded.

Tom shook his head. "Wrong. Whores don't have lovers, now do they?"

"No, I suppose not," Stephen reluctantly agreed.

"Then what am I, whore?"

Stephen wondered what Tom wanted to hear. "I don't know."

Tom's eyes gleamed in the dim light. "I'm your master."

Stephen's breath caught in his throat. This was very wrong, but that made it feel forbidden and exciting. "I don't... no, I can't..."

"Yes, you can, and you will," Tom said firmly. "Say it. Say I'm your master."

Stephen hesitated, and Tom's grip on his hair strengthened painfully. "Say it, whore."

"You're my master," Stephen stammered.

"Again, and this time convince me."

Stephen swallowed and tried again. "You are my master."

"Do you want your master's cock?"

A much easier question. "Yes!"

His grip, which had eased, tightened once more. "Yes? Yes, what?"

Stephen bit his lip. Then in a rush he blurted, "Yes, I want my master's cock."

Tom pulled Stephen's head even closer and brought his lips down on Stephen's. It was the first time the two of them had kissed, but it wasn't like a first kiss. Tom was not tentative or tender, his mouth was demanding on Stephen's, forcing it open, plunging his tongue in to explore. It was the kiss of a man taking what he wants from a woman, a woman who may or may not be willing.

When Tom stopped the kiss Stephen was panting. "Then I will give you my cock, whore," Tom growled.

With that he pushed Stephen's head back down, not releasing the firm grip he had on Stephen's hair. His cockhead nudged at Stephen's lips. "Open for your master."

Stephen opened his mouth. Tom forced Stephen down on his cock until the crown was resting on the back of Stephen's tongue. Stephen gagged a little and Tom eased his grip, allowing Stephen to pull back part way, but only part way. Then once Stephen had taken a deep breath through his nose Tom forced him back down, and this time he didn't stop until Stephen had swallowed the entire length of Tom's cock, something Stephen had never succeeded at doing in the past.

The crown of Tom's dick was in Stephen's throat well past the back of his tongue. Stepen gagged and choked while trying to push himself away, but Tom was too strong. Stephen was helpless, he couldn't stop the other man from doing whatever he wanted.

Tom finally took pity and pulled Stephen's head off his cock so that his mouth was free again. Stephen coughed uncontrollably between gasps of breath, spit and mucus flying. He felt lucky that he didn't vomit easily. Once Stephen stopped coughing Tom pushed him down again, slowly but insistently. Stephen had no choice but to open his mouth to take Tom's manhood back inside.

Tom allowed Stephen more leeway after that, but his hands never left the back of his whore's head as Stephen sucked and licked. When Stephen felt the pulsing that he knew heralded Tom's orgasm he was held in place, Tom's cock buried deep in Stephen's mouth despite efforts by Stephen to pull back. Stephen had never swallowed Tom's full load before either, and he had to gulp desperately to keep up with the flow. There was enough that some of it spilled out the sides of Stephen's mouth despite his best efforts.

Once Tom was finished spurting his semen down Stephen's throat into his belly the masseur finally let Stephen go. Stephen remained sprawled half atop Tom, gasping and panting. Now Tom's hands caressed Stephen through the half-slip and panties, and very soon the erection Stephen lost earlier is back. Tom slipped his hand into Stephen's panties, rubbing and tugging his whore to climax. It was over so fast that Stephen's head whirled, he still hadn't even managed to catch his breath from the rape of his mouth.

Tom peered down at him. "I know you liked that, whore," he said in a no-nonsense voice.

Looking up Stephen realized Tom was right.

[]

Tom was not much more talkative in bed after that night, but he did act more domineering. Every so often he insisted Stephen call him master, and wouldn't let up till Stephen obeyed. He was more forceful as well. Never quite to the point of raping Stephen's mouth again, but Tom clearly expected Stephen to learn to take his cock deeper without choking and also to swallow his full load without complaint.

Tom's hands were rougher on Stephen now. He still caressed, but in addition to softer touches there were pinches, prods, little slaps. And his fingers were going new places, into Stephen's mouth, or tugging at Stephen's balls. And into Stephen's anus.

The first time for that was the very next night after he'd raped Stephen's mouth. While Stephen was sucking he felt oiled fingers slide between his rear cheeks, stroking up and down the cleft before probing at the tight entrance. With gentle but firm pressure Tom worked one digit into Stephen's ass, making him gasp around Tom's cock. He let Stephen get used to it in there before pressing the finger deeper.

Stephen knew in abstract about prostate massage. Tom showed Stephen exactly how good it felt, like a line of hotness going from deep inside Stephen's ass into his balls and out through his penis. Tom soon had Stephen dripping into the front of his g-string, while Stephen tried his best to deep-throat Tom's cock in response.

After Stephen ate Tom's cum the masseur brought Stephen off with one hand while a finger of the other was still inside Stephen's ass, pressing against his prostate. The orgasm was so powerful that Stephen almost passed out.

[]

It felt odd knowing how much had changed in Stephen's life without anyone around him noticing.

Not that they could have noticed from Tom. Unless the lights were off the masseur was perfectly respectful and modest, even impassive.

Stephen tried his best to imitate the younger man by acting the same way he had before the night games started, but it was difficult. Stephen felt... softer. Less in control, more indecisive, and a little giddy. Happier, too, but nervous about the very fact he felt happy. A shrill voice inside Stephen kept telling him that he shouldn't be happy, that he didn't deserve to be.

Perhaps it was because of this internal voice that Stephen eventually decided to refuse to call Tom "master" when he asked. It was a small thing compared to the other things he was doing, but it felt like a way of reminding Tom that the night games were only games. Or more to the point, a way of Stephen reminding himself they were only games, not the most important thing in Stephen's life.

So one night he told Tom they would not longer be using the words 'master' and 'whore.' "It's just not a good idea," Stephen tried to explain.

"Really, whore? So you think I don't have good ideas."

Stephen bit his lip and couldn't meet the other man's eyes. "No, not that. It's... I think it's a mistake."

"Oh, someone's made a mistake all right." Tom's voice sounded both amused and a bit dangerous. "What I think is that you need a lesson to what happens to naughty whores who talk back to their masters."

Stephen cringed as Tom rose up from the bed, becoming a threatening shadow. "Over on your belly, whore, then up on your knees," Tom commanded. When Stephen didn't obey quickly enough his strong hands jerked Stephen into the position he wanted. Tom's hand seized the top of the frilly pink knickers Stephen had chosen to wear and pulled them down to Stephen's thighs.

"Time for your lesson, whore. You're expected to tell your master what you've learned once I finish," Tom announced. Then his flat hand came down hard on Stephen's bared bottom.

Stephen yelped and tried to crawl away, but Tom's other hand seized one of his arms and twisted it behind Stephen's back painfully, pinning him in place. Meanwhile Tom's spanking hand rained down blows on both Stephen's buttocks, sharp, stinging slaps that very quickly reduced him to tears.

It goes on for what seemed like forever but was probably only a few minutes, then suddenly it stopped, leaving Stephen sobbing. The hand pinning Stephen's arm let go, a moment later Stephen felt a finger gently brush his face and find the tears there.

"You're crying? I didn't spank you that hard," Tom said, sounding honestly puzzled.

"It's not the pain. It's because it's what she did," Stephen whimpered.

Tom reached out and gathered Stephen into his strong arms, cradling him. "What she did? Who?"

Stephen brokenly explained about Janet and the spankings he'd endured for years until he was finally rid of her, including the time she caught Stephen wearing lingerie.

"Ah. But this nanny of yours must have spanked you because you were naughty."

"Not always," Stephen sniffled. "Sometimes she just did it because she enjoyed it."

Tom chuckled softly at that. "I have something to tell you, whore. I'll be spanking you again, many times in fact."

"No, please don't," Stephen begged.

"Yes, I will. And there are two reasons for it. The first is that you are naughty."

"But I won't be, I promise!"

Tom shook his head. "Everything you do when the lights are out is naughty. You know that, don't you, whore?"

Miserably Stephen nodded in agreement.

"But there's a second reason which is just as important," Tom continued. "I'm going to be spanking you because I'll enjoy it. I enjoyed spanking you tonight, and each time I spank you in the future I'll enjoy that as well. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes, master."

Tom went still for a long moment, then started to chuckle like before only louder and longer this time. Stephen didn't understand why the masseur was laughing about, but before he could ask Tom kissed Stephen just the way he did that first time, his mouth aggressive and devouring. There were no more spanking that night, in fact Tom appeared particularly pleased with Stephen and went out of his way to do things he knew Stephen liked.

During their play Stephen had no idea how he'd made Tom so happy, though Tom didn't exactly give him much time to think about it anyway. However after it was over and Stephen was drifting off to sleep, it occurred to him that this was the first time he had ever called Tom "master" without Tom first telling him to say it.

[]

It was the weekend so there was no morning chime for Stephen to rise and ready himself for the office, just the room lights slowly coming up. Stephen slept through those, what eventually woke him was the act of groping out to the other side of the bed and finding it empty. Stephen opened his eyes and saw that Tom had left, and had been gone for some time from the way the sheets on his side were cold.

Stephen felt disappointed, but that was quickly followed by a sense of shame for feeling that way. What had happened to him? When did Stephen start mooning like a lovesick girl over another man? Especially a man who abused Stephen the way Tom did last night!

Stephen got angry at himself for being such a pathetic wimp. He'd cried in the man's arms! Stephen thought back to being a teenager and the way Janet continued to terrorize him by finding new things to punish him for, until finally Stephen realized there was nothing he could ever do or refrain from doing that would appease her need to strike out at the only person she had power over. Then it took Stephen another year of effort, of joining athletic clubs and playing "manly" sports he didn't enjoy, giving up the art and dance classes he did enjoy, begging his father for the chance to go duck hunting with him (Stephen loathed it and almost vomited when the ducks fell out of the sky). But it worked, Stephen's father finally became convinced his son was a "man" and not a child and therefore no longer needed a nanny.

Janet was unceremoniously let go. She went back to the labor pool, doubtlessly to be sent to some other family as a nanny and make their children as miserable as Stephen had been. But he'd done it, he'd gotten himself free of his tormentor. Two years later he was a freshman at the university his father had gone to, and after graduation he joined the corporation his father worked for, rising steadily through the ranks of execs until his father passed and Stephen took his place. He was a successful senior businessman, well thought of by his peers. And here he was allowing himself to become a stupid useless sissy, the very thing Janet had always told Stephen he was.

All day long a tangled ball of anxiety and guilt and dread and humiliation and anger swirled in Stephen's chest. The anger came to the fore again and again, anger at himself, anger at Janet, anger at Tom. Tom was to blame, really. After all, if it wasn't for Tom this never would have happened. Stephen was normal before the masseur showed up in his life. Well, maybe not completely normal (thinking guiltily of his cabinet of secrets) but he was doing fine.