Slave Master

Stephen needed to get rid of Tom, the same way he got rid of Janet. That was the first step to stopping all this nonsense. He wouldn't fire Tom, not yet. That would look like he was scared of the man. He just wouldn't allow the masseur in his bed.

After dinner Stephen told the night butler that he wouldn't need a massage tonight and that Tom could stay in the slave barracks. Stephen stayed up late watching old movies from the pre-VR era, accompanied by two snifters of cognac to help him relax. Finally he went to bed.

Being in bed alone now felt strange, and it took Stephen a long time to find sleep. But sleep finally came.

[]

Stephen maintained his resolve for ten days and nights by constantly reminding himself of the need to be firm, that he was a grown man, a successful exec who others admired and envied, that he was attracted to women and everything he'd been doing with Tom was just a momentary lapse in judgment. Unfortunately he had an uneasy suspicion that the sheer fact he needed to keep reminding himself of these things meant they weren't really true. It also didn't help that each successive night it got harder to fall asleep, and that when Stephen did fall into exhausted slumber he had vivid sexual dreams involving lingerie and hard cocks and, worse, being spanked and humiliated.

The breaking point came because Stephen was so tired that he fell asleep during a meeting at work. A particularly boring meeting, true, but it was about a joint project between Stephen's corporation and another organization and their own CFO is also there. It was quite embarrassing when Stephen's administrative assistant nudged him awake and Stephen realized the outside execs had noticed his lapse. At that point Stephen decided he just had to get a good night's sleep, meaning he needed a massage.

Stephen assured himself it would be all right. He'd already proved he had the willpower to resist temptation. It was merely a matter of not letting Tom take advantage. He would have the masseur perform his duty and then send him back to the slave quarters, just like the way it was when he first arrived.

That night Stephen was edgy and tense as he sat on the edge of the bed in his robe, waiting for Tom to make his appearance. He also had a sense of anticipation, but surely that was just from the expectation of finally getting a good night's sleep.

Tom came in, dressed in nothing but his loincloth as usual. Stephen's breath caught in his throat just for a moment, and he had to squash a desire to stand up and welcome the masseur. Tom was as respectful yet distant as always, which made it easier for Stephen to suppress his own emotions.

Tom went to the bathroom, warmed his hands in the sink, and returned with a bottle of massage oil and towels. Without a word Stephen took off his robe and lay back. Tom draped a towel over Stephen's groin and began his work.

As the half-way point approached and Tom's hands moved slowly and firmly over Stephen's body Stephen was breathing hard. Despite all Stephen's efforts at self-distraction he had an erection under the towel. He bit his tongue hard, hoping pain would provide an antidote.

Tom did not react to the way his master's towel is lifted by the stiffness beneath. And when he asked Stephen to turn over and had to hold the towel up so he could lay it back down over Stephen's rear, he acted as if couldn't see the way Stephen had to adjust his penis to get it comfortable before going face-down.

As the massage reached Stephen's thighs and the lower edge of his buttocks Stephen was tremendously excited. But on reaching that point Tom stopped, just as he used to when he first gave Stephen massages. It was as if nothing more than that ever happened.

It was of course obvious Stephen isn't asleep yet. Far from it.

"Do you wish me to start over, master?" Tom asked.

Stephen wanted something else entirely. The frustration was terrible, but he refused to give in. "No, Tom. That will do."

Tom pulled the covers up over Stephen. Stephen sighed in disappointment. At least his muscles were less tense, perhaps he'd be able to sleep. He closed his eyes.

The bedside lamp went out, and Stephen felt Tom getting between the sheets on the other side of the bed.

Stephen eyes flew open. In a rush it occurred to him that even though he'd intended for Tom to go back to the barracks after the massage, he'd never actually informed anyone of that, including Tom. Immediately the judgmental part of Stephen's mind sourly reproached him for it, accusing him of wanting this result all along. He hadn't, he was certain it was an honest oversight.

Stephen ought to tell Tom to leave. But then Tom would turn the lamp on and get out of bed, meaning Stephen would have to move to turn the lamp back off after Tom left, and that would ruin the relaxation the massage had produced. Surely it was better to just ignore the lapse and get some rest like he'd planned. Besides, Stephen had already made up his mind not to do anything naughty, it's not like this would change anything. Better to leave it till morning, then he'll tell Tom that in the future he would be leaving after the massage. Stephen closed his eyes again and very deliberately started his relaxation exercises. Time to get some sleep.

Sleep did come, but deep in the night Stephen came awake intensely aware of the masculine form in bed with him. The erection that had wilted as he drifted off is back, and so hard it was aching. Stephen can't remember any wild dreams and wondered why his penis should react that way. Could it be the potent male pheromones drifting from his bed partner, penetrating Stephen as he slept?

In the darkness all the needs and desires Stephen had been suppressing over the past ten days burned like a roaring fire, while the careful rationalizations he'd created to counter those desires seemed as flimsy as tissue paper. When touched by fire, paper quickly burns away to nothing.

Stephen got out of bed, went to the closet, feverishly opened the secret cabinet, scrabbled through the drawer to find a silk thong with a narrow back and lace cut-out front. He didn't have the patience to look for more to put on, he donned the panties and scurried back to bed.

Stephen reached out and touched the other man's arm. "Tom."

"Yes." His instant reply proved Tom was already awake, but even now he didn't move.

Stephen gnawed at his lower lip. "Tom, the lights are out."

"Yes, they are. What is it you want?"

What is it Stephen wanted. That was the question, wasn't it? Stephen felt frustrated and desperate.

"Please," Stephen whispered.

"Please? Do you mean, I should please you? Or perhaps, please forgive me?" Tom's voice was cold, hard.

Stephen felt close to tears. "I want us to... to be together," Stephen said.

Tom finally turned to face the other man. "That's foolish. Either you're the master and I'm your slave, or you're a whore and I'm your master. There's no space for 'together' in either of those. And I have no use for a whore who doesn't know her place, one who's so fickle that she thinks she can send me away or call me back as she pleases."

"But you spanked me," Stephen whined.

"And as I explained before, I'll do that again any time I feel like it. If you're my whore, that is. If you're not, I don't really care what you do."

The backbone Stephen was pretending to have during the day was gone, even the force of passion he'd felt just moments ago was shrinking in the face of Tom's easy self-confidence and casual, dominant manner. Stephen realized that he'd been deceiving himself and everyone around him for years. He was never a healthy mature male, a powerful exec. He wasn't a real man at all. He was still the pathetic sissy he'd always been.

"I'm your whore, master," Stephen humbly offered.

Tom sighed, a touch dramatically. "I want to believe that, really I do. But considering your recent behavior I think a test is in order. Come here, whore."

He opened his arms and Stephen nestled into them. He kissed Stephen, but only briefly before directing Stephen's head downward. Stephen kissed his way down Tom's muscled torso, excited and happy to be doing this once more.

Tom's hands continued to nudge and prod, getting Stephen up on his knees so that Stephen's rump swung towards him. As Stephen sucked cock Tom slid the back of the thong to one side, and oiled fingers parted Stephen's rear cheeks to probe at his anus. One thick finger was worked deep inside, sliding in and out of Stephen's hole. It withdrew fully, oil was again applied and it returned to the entrance; but this time alongside it was a second finger. Stephen groaned as both penetrated and pressed deep before they began to finger-fuck Stephen's ass.

Tom's other hand, which had been fondling one of Stephen's bottom cheeks, moved to his hair and tugged lightly. "That's enough, whore."

The fingers are pulled out and Stephen reluctantly came up off Tom's cock, wondering what was happening as the masseur got onto his knees and started positioning Stephen so that he would be on hands and knees on the bed, forearms flat on the mattress. He suspects the reason for the position when massage oil is drizzled into Stephen's rear cleft, and no doubt remains about Tom's intentions as he got behind Stephen and rubbed his long, hard shaft up and down between Stephen's bottom cheeks to lube his erection as well.

"No, I can't," Stephen objected anxiously.

"I'm quite sure you can. All whores do, after all."

"No, I mean... master, I've never done this before!"

"Really? Then it's high time you learn how," Tom said dryly.

Tom fit the fat mushroom head against Stephen's oiled backdoor and began to push. This part of him was much bigger than a finger or two, and Stephen protested and whimpered as the pressure slowly forced his reluctant entryway open. It hurt and Stephen wanted to pull away, but Tom's hands were clamped hard on Stephen's hips. It wasn't just a physical hold on Stephen but also a sign of Tom's determination that this would happen regardless of how the whore he was using felt about it. Strangely enough this helped Stephen persevere despite the pain.

Something inside Stephen gave way and the head plunged in. Stephen gasped and begged the other man to take it out, it was so painful that Stephen was sure he'd been injured. Tom ignored the complaints except to order Stephen to relax and bear down, saying it would make things easier. Though perhaps he wasn't ignoring Stephen because he wasn't pressing deeper, just holding his cock in place and allowing Stephen's anus to adjust to being impaled. After a minute or two the hurt ebbed, still there but less than before.

Tom rocked back and forth a tiny amount, as if massaging Stephen's aching sphincter using the knob of his penis. Tom increased the amount he was moving slowly, at the same time letting his cock go further into Stephen's ass a bit at a time. Eventually the sharp pain was entirely transformed into a sort of dull burn, and half of Tom's cock was buried inside Stephen's asshole.

Aware that Stephen's whimpers had turned into soft grunts and moans and that his anal muscles were no longer clenched so hard, Tom began to move faster and to slide his cock deeper. It wasn't long before Stephen felt the masseur's hips pressing against his rump and realized he'd taken every last bit of Tom's dick, the entire length of the other man's cock was inside Stephen's rear.

One of Tom's hands left Stephen's hip and slid around to find his whore's penis. Under his expert touch Stephen was soon as erect as Tom, and Stephen's moans took on a new, more urgent character. Tom's fingers circled the base of Stephen organ, clenching hard.

"Don't you dare cum before I do, whore," he murmured in Stephen's ear.

"I won't, master," Stephen gasped in agreement.

Tom removed the hand, straightened up and began fucking Stephen harder. There was no real pain for Stephen now, just heat and a feeling of fullness that was rather pleasant. In addition the more forceful thrusts Tom was making were rubbing at Stephen's prostate almost the way the masseur's fingers did. The line of fire traveled out from Stephen's balls and he began to worry that despite his promise he'd cum before Tom did after all.

But Tom's breathing was getting rougher, and now his hand returned to fondling Stephen's stiff shaft. Stephen opened his mouth to warn Tom to stop doing that or he'd cum, but just then Tom grunted and his steady motion changed to short, spastic thrusts that feel as if he's trying to get the tip of his cock as far into Stephen's colon as he can. There was a final plunge as Tom groaned and went rigid. Stephen felt an internal warmth and giddily realized Tom was cumming, spurting his potent seed deep into Stephen's anal canal. It was enough to send Stephen over the edge as well. His smaller penis pulsed and spewed onto the sheets below.

Once Tom pulled out Stephen collapsed onto the bed. The older man lay there in a puddle of his own semen, while Tom's seed leaked from Stephen's well-fucked ass. Stephen was vaguely aware of Tom getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom to clean up, but already he was falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

[]

Stephen woke, confused because there was a warm arm across his waist and a body close behind him in bed. He knew it must still be early, the room lights hadn't begun their slow morning rise yet, but a glow from the curtains showed it was dawn outside.

The fog of sleep lifted and Stephen realized the arm around him was Tom's. He recalled what the other man had done to him during the night and blushed, feeling ashamed but also oddly smug. Tom was on his side, so Stephen nestled back into the spoon of the masseur's body.

Tom's morning wood was greeting Stephen, prodding at his bottom cheeks. Stephen's blush grew hotter and he instinctively snuggled back. Tom's grip tightened as he stirred awake, yawning.

"That's a nice way to wake me up," Tom murmured lazily, thrusting his hips against Stephen.

Stephen almost giggled. Instead he said, "We should get up, I need a shower."

"Oh, so you want to do it in the shower next?"

Now Stephen did laugh. "Be serious, Tom."

Tom pulled Stephen tight to him, his muscular chest pressing against Stephen's back and the long, hard shaft of Tom's cock pushing between his rear globes to rest against the thin rear strap of the thong Stephen wore. "Who says I'm not serious? The lamp is still out."

Stephen pushed at his arm, uselessly as Tom was definitely stronger. "Don't act silly, it's morning."

Tom rolled over, trapping Stephen underneath. The masseur's weight on top pressed out Stephen's breath. "Don't call me silly, whore. I see you still haven't learned the lesson."

He reached down, pulled Stephen's thong to one side. Tom's naked cock was now hot against Stephen's swollen, used anus "Is the lamp out, whore?"

"Yes, but..."

A strong hand grabbed one of Stephen's nipples, tweaked it hard enough to make him yelp. "And while the lamp is out, what am I?"

"My master," Stephen admitted. "But it's morning, the lights will be on soon."

"Let your master worry about when the lights will be on, whore," Tom grunted He shifted his position, which raised his hips and removed his cock from Stephen's cleft. Stephen heard Tom spit, and suddenly a wet finger was being rubbed on Stephen's anus. Stephen's asshole was still greasy from the massage oil last night, and even though his sphincter had tightened up in the meantime the finger slipped in easily.

Tom shifted again, nudging Stephen's legs apart with his own. Now the finger withdrew, to be replaced by the head of his cock directed against Stephen's back door. With Tom's whole weight to drive his penis down and in it took very little time for him to penetrate Stephen fully. Tom held one hand over Stephen's mouth to stifle the squeals and groans the weaker male made.

It took longer for Tom to reach orgasm this time, probably because he'd dumped a load in Stephen's ass just hours before, though it might also have been that the position didn't let him drive into his whore as deeply. Stephen started to panic when he realized that the bedroom lights were slowly getting brighter. An irrational fear flashed through his brain that Tom would still be doing this when the morning maid came in to make the bed, she would walk in without warning and see Stephen being fucked like a bitch. Oddly the frantic dread Stephen felt about this made his dick, already swollen, grow completely stiff.

"Touch yourself, whore," Tom growled into your ear. "I want you to cum when I do again."

Immediately Stephen fitted a hand between himself and the mattress and stroked his own penis. Soon he was breathing faster as his arousal heightened. This time it was Stephen who reached the supreme moment first, but Tom was not far behind. Stephen's anus spasmed around Tom's cock as it spurted semen deep into him.

After he was finished Tom continued to lay atop Stephen, cock softening but still buried in the other man's ass. After a few minutes he groaned and pushed himself back, pulling out entirely.

"All right, now you can have that shower, whore," Tom announced calmly.

[]

Stephen knew he should be angry. No, he should be outraged.

This wasn't the way it had started, when Stephen had willingly sucked Tom's cock. Stephen hadn't offered to let Tom do what he'd done, in fact he hadn't wanted it and had told Tom not to do it. It was rape, no question about it. Stephen would be fully justified if he turned Tom over to the police for summary punishment, assuming of course that Stephen was willing to let them know that Tom had raped him. But in any event what Tom had done should be unforgivable, no real man would tolerate that sort of thing happening to him without making sure the culprit was punished.

But Stephen knew he wasn't a real man. Tom had showed him that last night, in the most blatant fashion possible. Twice.

In a way it was a relief. Stephen had been worried for so long about someone finding out any one of his secrets. The lingerie, the fact he'd sucked cock in college, his inner doubts about his masculinity. Now Tom knew and the world hadn't come to an end. And while Stephen was indecisive and skittish about indulging in his secret desires, Tom had demonstrated he was willing to take charge of the situation. Tom not only made Stephen do the things he'd formerly barely dared to fantasize about, he made Stephen enjoy them. Really, Stephen ought to be thanking Tom for pushing until Stephen had to reveal his true nature.

And it was Stephen's true nature, irrevocably. A man had fucked Stephen, made him his whore, and Stephen had enjoyed it. There was no turning back from something like that. It was like when a girl lost her virginity. No matter what she thought about the act, no matter else happened afterward, she would never be a virgin again.

And Stephen would never be a real man again.

[]

Having surrendered both his ass and his pretensions of being anything other than a weak sissy to Tom, Stephen was not surprised when the masseur immediately started changing the rules under which the two of them had been operating after the lamps were out. That's what real men did, after all. They pushed at limits.

Tom didn't take Stephen's bottom again on the next night, instead he ordered Stephen to suck him off and insisted he swallow every drop. After Stephen finished, Tom said, "Tomorrow you'll tell the night butler that you want more background light in the room during the sleep period from now on."

"What?" was Stephen's not terribly intelligent reply.

Tom rolled his eyes just slightly. "Tell him it's too dark after the bedside lamp is off, you want the ambient lights higher during the night."

"Why?"

"First, because your master told you to tell him that, whore. And you just earned a spanking for asking." He grinned at Stephen. "Second, because I want to see more of what I'm doing. Perhaps you like operating in the dark, but I'd like to see my whore at work."