Asylum (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 110,879
0 Ratings (0.0)

Nobody sang happy birthday to me when I turned eighteen. Instead, I was gifted a bargain-outlet suitcase to pack my belongings. They said that they needed the bed for another boy in need. I guess once you turn eighteen you're suddenly not considered a boy anymore. If only my shaking hands and panicked heart would get the message.

But I would survive, as I had always done, despite my best efforts to the contrary. Having a home was overrated anyway. That's why couches and park benches existed, right? All things considered, summer wasn't such a bad time to be homeless in Boston.

And, hey, without parental oversight, I could go anywhere I wanted. I could even go looking for that something that had always niggled in the back of my brain ... that fine line between pleasure and pain. Nobody would yell at me for being out beyond curfew, and nobody would call me a freak if I found someone to show me the ropes, literally.

And if that creepy old codger, Vern, continued to follow me in the shadows everywhere I went, well ... that was his problem.

Asylum (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Asylum (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 110,879
0 Ratings (0.0)
In Bookshelf
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats
Cover Art by Written Ink Designs

Holy. Shit.

After promising Mike that I would "be a good pup," whatever that meant, I was left on my own to explore the club. As I emerged from the long dark entry hallway, I felt like I had appeared in some sort of twisted carnival of my dreams. Come one, come all, for the ride of your life.

Music thrummed loudly all around, and everywhere I looked, it was like I got my own personal peep show. Porn had nothin' on this place. A beautiful couple appeared to be setting up onstage for some sort of demonstration involving a St. Andrews cross and hot wax. I could make out the sub's excitement from the rise and fall of his bare golden chest as it glistened with perspiration.

To my right, a tall lanky middle-aged man knelt between the legs of a silver fox who was groaning and forcing the kneeling man's head down over his impressive dick.

"That's it, boy. All the way down."

The older Dom caught me looking and smirked. I tried not to blush as I ducked my head and kept walking. I fingered the purple plastic collar I was given at the front door. It advertised that I was a sub and looking to play, but only after a proper negotiation. The friendly young man who'd given it to me, Javier, had assured me that everyone here respected the color codes. If I had chosen a red collar, that would have announced that I was a sub looking to play, anything goes, safeword defaulted to "red." I didn't think I was quite that ready yet.

In the shadows along the back wall, I could see the rise and fall of a naked sub riding his Dom, head tilted back in ecstasy. I felt myself stiffen in my ripped jeans and felt decidedly overdressed for the occasion. God, this place was awesome. That is, it was awesome until I suddenly found my view contaminated by a familiar figure.

"Go away, Vern."

Vern scowled at me and crossed his arms over his plaid flannel-covered chest. Talk about looking out of place. I couldn't tell you why he had followed me into this club, of all places.

Well, as soon as my pill kicked in, I hoped I wouldn't have to deal with him. I turned my back on him and headed for the bar. I grabbed the only open seat and took a deep breath, calming myself.

"What'll ya have, hon?" the cute bartender asked. "We only serve water and juice for those that are playing." He gave me a wink to smooth over any possible disappointment I might have from hearing the rules.

"Uh, ice water, thanks." I started scanning the room for single Doms. Most folks already looked paired off.

"You looking for someone to play with?" asked a voice next to me. I turned to check out the man who had asked, and gratefully downed half the glass of ice water that appeared by my hand. Holy Mother of God.

The first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. They were that light blue, like a Husky's, and looked right through me like they could spy secrets I didn't even know I was holding. They were even more disconcerting alongside his dark wavy hair.

"That an offer?"

"Perhaps." He smiled. And, oh, what a beautiful smile it was. "Shall we grab a table and discuss what you're looking for?"

Read more