A Matter of Trust
Donald K. Drummond is the Master of all he surveys; a legend in commercial real estate in New Jersey by day and by night a Master Dom at the gay BDSM club, Indiscrete. What he couldn't find was a boy to call his own. That all changed when a nerd with taped glasses and worn Dockers barged into his office spilling his bottle of 1985 Bourdeau over his priceless Persian carpet. Brian Murphy came with a host of troubles, the least of which was his grasping Aunt, his invalid mother and his rather tenious position in Donald's mail room.Can a Dom with issues of his own come to train and trust a needy boy from his own mailroom. It's all A Matter of Trust.
This work has been previously published.
Donald watched in his mind's eye as his massive hands massaged the boy's body with sweet scented almond oil, making love to his nipples and bare chest. His boy did not necessarily have a virgin ass, but it would be tight around his throbbing shaft. As Donald's mind sunk into the whirlpool of his fantasy, his alternate persona, Master Bear of Indiscreet took hold.
Bear's mouth would torment the balls bound with a cock ring and suck vigorously on his sub's cock building pressure, so it leaked copious amounts of pre-cum, despite the tight fit of the leather harness surrounding the balls and base. Maybe, if the boy begged, he would add a weight or two to hang from the bindings. His boy had two nipples pierced. They had gone together to get it done.
Donald pictured a platinum chain connecting the piercings and smiled for the first time this morning. His cock rose rapidly as the familiar fantasy played. Throwing his head back, he pulled a long, hard stroke, dropping further into his daydream. He closed his eyes and pictured the scene. He grabbed at the bulbous head of his cock and stroked it to the script.
Bear honed his own skills in preparation for his boy by teaching Doms again. A picture-perfect Dominant in tight black silk and leathers highlighting what Antonio had called his kong-sized cock, Master Bear, the toughest Top in the state, hid a tender heart. He ratcheted up the heat as he pulled harder, while squeezing and rolling his balls in his other hand.
His fantasy played on in his mind standing in front of the sink. He and the boy attended a function at Indiscreet. He stood, speaking to Reed. Jim Boy, Reed's sub, stood behind Reed in a Standing Attention mode.
His boy knelt, legs parted revealing his long, thin, perfectly formed cock, encased in a cock ring that Donald had secured a few hours before. His head remained bowed, but his eyes were alert beneath his long lashes to watch so he could anticipate Donald's smallest desire. The boy kept his hands locked behind his neck, with his ass poised on the back of his heels, his spine straight and showing no strain after holding his position for over two hours.
Donald tapped his trousers with the index finger of his left hand, once. The boy rose with effortless grace from Kneeling Attention to his knees and, keeping his eyes lowered to the floor, crawled to a position which placed his face at the center of Donald's belt. He opened his Master's belt and undid the closure to his tailored pants.
The fantasy in his head was echoed by his now erect member. Abundant streaks of clear pre-cum leaked from Donald's thick cock head. He took his manicured thumb and pressed it into the slit, rubbing the liquid around the head. His shaft felt as hard and heavy as polished concrete over steel, Donald let the fantasy to play out to its inevitable conclusion.
Donald closed his eyes and imagined the boy as he reached into Donald's dark silk boxers with hesitancy, waiting for his Papa's permission. Although his boy loved to suck his Master, he knew sucking his Master's cock came as a privilege given or withheld at Master's discretion. He caressed the sub's wavy, platinum hair, pressing down on his head in encouragement. Those long slender fingers cupped and kneaded Donald's balls as the boy's hot tongue engulfed his cock and worked its way down to his sacs with cat-like licks.
His boy learned in detail what his Master craved. He followed the licks by flicking his tongue up, down, and across the prominent veins on the underside of his shaft. He would then adjust his mouth around and under the head of his Master's huge cock, until Donald shivered with need. Donald pulled his boy's head closer. This amazing boy gave him total control over every aspect of their lives. All he asked for in return was his Papa Bear's attention and care for his health and happiness.
Bear thought he received immeasurably more. He tapped his boy's neck and the perfect oval of a mouth with wet pink lips swallowed the whole nine inches of Bears fat cock until it hit the back of his throat. He relaxed his throat muscles and suppressed his gag reflex, and then he began to massage his Master's cock with the muscles in his throat. To do this, he had to trust in his Master to pull back and let him breathe. The fantasy felt so real to him he could feel the boy sucking his cock.
Bear took pride in the fact the boy placed his hands in a locked position behind his back. He knew the Master he loved would never harm him. Therefore, the boy would neither gag nor attempt to pull back, giving Donald the power and trust to do as he would. Donald would go deep, fucking his boy's mouth with hard, swift strokes. He would come in streams and his boy would swallow it all and keep Donald in his mouth, licking around the head and shaft until Donald became soft, drained dry and depleted.
When Donald ran a rifling touch through his hair, his boy straightened Donald's clothes and resumed position, navy eyes shining up at his Master in adoration, love, and absolute trust.
Donald worked at his cock, and several strong pulls later, released. He came in long streaks all over the sink and countertop, leaving him shaken and holding onto the rim.
He knew his faults. Neither his face nor physique would win any competitions. He tried to even the playing field by the understated elegance of his surroundings and conservative panache of his wardrobe. Even if Bear would be more comfortable in jeans and leathers, he dressed like the Prince of Wales to convince himself of his own worth and prove to those who knew him back then, that now Donald Drummond was a man with whom to be reckoned. He finished cleaning the sink and vanity with a disposable wipe and whispered his request aloud.
"Give me a boy of my own. I need to be special to someone: A Papa Bear..." He had wasted enough time today on this foolishness, he really had to get...
A loud thump interrupted his thoughts, followed by the sound of a slight click. Seconds passed, then a muffled voice hissed, "Oh Shit...Fuck."