Clay Takes Control Part 1
Authoritarian, Dominance, Alpha- sub
Part 1
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Going to the gym is a vice for me. I am naturally anxious and putting in a strenuous workout 5 or 6 days a week helps me burn off a lot of worry. So, I was happy to find there was a gym- a YMCA- only about 10 minutes from the townhouse I'd just bought and moved into. A Y was not my first choice for a gym, but I could jog there from my house, so that was that.
Moving to a new part of town had been rough on my social life. Part of the reason for the move was a bad break up with my ex-husband. It's a long story and, truthfully, I was ready to be solo after a very intense relationship that had shaped the whole of my adult life. Of course, it's always when you're not looking for the next thing that life dumps it on you. In my case, this happened like a cold bucket of water straight over my head!
I first saw him on a Saturday morning. I had to make myself not stare at him gaped mouth. He was completely my type: tall, maybe 6 ft 5; broad & strapping; muscled up, but not overly developed; ruggedly good looking, but not a model; chestnut brown hair and fair skinned; huge hands and feet; and long, thick fingers. He radiated alphaness. Like, seriously, I could feel it- him- across the gym floor. He was lifting, of course.
He caught one of my frequent glances and smirked. I looked down and away. I finished up my workout and got the hell out of there. I was a bit unnerved- I was ogling this guy like I was a star-struck kid. I am usually pretty composed and in control of myself. In fact, most folks would describe me as having my shit together no matter the circumstance but something about this man threw me out of myself.
Several days later, I noticed him again across the gym. "God, he's so fucking hot" I thought to myself. "Careful, no sporting hard-ons at the Y!" I lectured to myself. I looked back over to him. He was having a bro on bro conversation. Probably comparing lift sets, or the latest IPAs at the bar, or whatever it is that they talk about, I thought to myself and smiled. Back to reality!
I hopped on the elliptical, turned up my Spotify daily mix- early 90s hip hop, my mainstay,- and started ellipticalling. Happy to lose myself in the next 45 minutes of cardio bliss. Work and new house stuff had made for a long week. I kept glancing over to him, though. Shit. I couldn't help myself. It was like magnetism.
He wasn't conventionally beautiful, I thought as I looked over towards him, yet again. He has a long face, just short of horsey. Big, roman nose that looks like it might have been broken once or twice. His eyes were dark and deep set, I noticed looked over at him, for the umpteenth time. Also, his haircut was of not great. But he was all alpha, no doubt about that. Just in minor interactions, it was clear everyone naturally deferred to him. I tried to peg his age- he was boyish, but certainly in his mid to late 20s. He was handsome in an almost old-fashioned way, I decided.
I skipped to the next track on my playlist and bumped up 4 levels on the elliptical. When I looked back up in his direction, he returned my glance. I looked down and away. He carried on with his bro-versation, but he had noticed me noticing him. I was sure of it. So, I clicked on the in-elliptical tv & found a show to watch. Enough of that nonsense, I told myself.
About 10 minutes later he mounted the treadmill right in front of me. I bit my lip and adjusted my jock. Shit, well, at least the next 30 minutes will flow by quickly, I told myself! And, damn, he was quite a specimen to watch. He was so tall that his stride basically covered the entire length of the treadmill. His weight thumped, thumped, thumped as he ran, which I could hear even through my too-loud earbuds which were, fittingly, blasting Oh My God by Tribe Called Quest. I had to remind myself to look away from him or focus on the in-ellptical tv from time to time. With these mental snapshots, I knew I'd at least have plenty of material for my jack-off session later!
About 25 minutes later, he was wiping down the treadmill and I suddenly became very involved in the rerun of Friends on my tiny elliptical screen in front of me. I noticed him turn towards me in my peripheral vision. I glanced up- really just to soak in his face up close- but damned if my eyes didn't stop at his crotch. I was helpless not to leer. The bulge from his package was massive. I couldn't not look and he caught me! I flushed deeply. He was smirking, again. "You fucking size queen," I cursed to myself.
I looked away, hoping against hope that he'd let it go, but he walked straight up to my machine. Suddenly, he was talking to me. An electric shock of panic hit me. "Oh shit" I thought. "Here we go- a fag about to get his ass bashed by a gay-panicked straight guy." My entire body tensed.
My face was bright red as I pulled my earbuds out.
"I'm sorry?" I said, actually because I had missed his opening to me, not because I was eyeballing him like a piece of meat, although that would also have been appropriate.
"I said, I've noticed you're new here and I've been meaning to get your name. I'm Clay." He was reaching out his hand for a handshake. I don't know if I looked shocked or completely shocked, but he laughed at my reaction.
I met his handshake. His hand almost totally enveloped my hand. His fingers and palm were calloused, rough, and powerful. He radiated warmth. My dick twitched.
"Hi, I'm Will," I somehow croaked out. "Nice to meet you, Clay, you're right- I just moved to town a couple of months ago." He held my hand in the handshake. And I let him.
"Always good to get new blood around here," he chuckled, looking around the gym. "You lift? I need somebody to spot me today. My crew isn't around at the moment. You can help me out, right?"
"Sure thing." I answered back, even though I don't lift and I had 15 more minutes on the elliptical. "Anything you need!"
"Anything?" he said back finally breaking off the handshake. He voice suddenly had a sternness to it. I smiled. He didn't. We looked at each other for what seemed like a really long time.
"I asked you a question" he said with a new directness that hadn't been in his voice previously.
The older lady on the stationary bike next to us, who had clearly been good-naturedly eavesdropping, looked away.
"Yes, anything" I replied, softly but honestly.
"Good. Lifting, first." he winked and popped me on the shoulder. "Get off of that damn elliptical." I did.
I followed him around for the next hour. He told me to do this, hold that, wipe down this bench, get him some water, bring him a new towel. And I did it. All of it, without question. I only spoke when he asked me a direct question. Watching him flex and lift was truly something to behold. The power and strength of this man was like nothing I'd ever seen up close. He was like an animal. Raw strength. Primal. Hot. He also worked up quite a sweat- and even his smell- maybe especially his smell- was intoxicating. My head was swimming.
"Fuck, man. That was just what I needed. This was a hell of a week." he said mostly to himself after he completed his last set. He told me to wipe down the bench over his shoulder as he left, which I did. The butch woman doing power cleans next to us looked at me quizzically.
I finished up and hurried to catch up to him as he made his way to the coffee bar near the lobby. When I approached him, he looked me up and down. I'm fairly fit for a guy in his late (very) 30s. 5 ft 10, black hair, hazel eyes, neatly kept beard, and freckles that make me look younger than my years.
"So, you live near here or what?" he asked. This is a big guy, I thought, as he loomed over me. His body radiated heat and his musk enveloped me. I felt helplessly drawn to him.
"Yes, just about 5 minutes from here." I replied. "Good, let's go." It was a command. A teenage boy filling up his water bottle next to me overheard this, looked up to see how I reacted, shook his head, and smiled as he walked off. I followed Clay out the front doors, my cock getting harder with each step.
"I jogged over, so I don't have my car." I said catching up to him in the parking lot. His long legs moved fast. "That's fine. I'll drive." he said nonchalantly.
He clicked his key fob and the lights flashed on the huge white Ford Raptor pickup truck parked in front of us. I climbed in. A big truck for a big man. He had a Ducks Unlimited decal on the back of the cab. Some huge hunting boots, turned upside down, were wedged between the cab and the truck bed. My cock was very hard. I gave him my address so he could GPS it and we rode in silence for a mile or so. He looked over at me while we were stopped at a light and noticed my hard cock tenting my gym shorts.
"You're a complete sub, huh?" he said, causally, as he turned off onto my street. I just looked at him and nodded, speechless.
"I attract submissives. Have all my life. People just naturally defer to me. But sometimes, it's more than that. Like a moth to the flame." he laughed and looked over at me. I burned as I returned his gaze. "But I don't know that I've ever met somebody that crumpled like you did back there. Damn, what a find!" There was a satisfied glee in his husky voice.
He smiled and drummed the steering wheel with his large, long fingers to as latest hipster rock on Lighting 100 filled cab. He reached his right hand out and caressed my face. I leaned towards him. His big, rough thumb brushing my lips. I opened them, instinctively. He probed my mouth, cheek, and tongue. He tasted spicy and hot.
"I'm going to enjoy this." he said, smiling, as he pulled up to my townhouse.
I didn't respond. I didn't know how. He didn't expect me to, so I didn't. I just assented with my silence. Still sucking his thumb.
"Let's go." he commanded, as he pulled his thumb from my mouth. I climbed out the truck and walked up to my front door like I was in a trance. I opened the door and let him in, as I held the door. He brushed past me into my house like he owned the place. Probably just second nature for him, I thought. Damn, his musk even smelled like sex.
"Ok, let's get down to it. I don't have all day and I want to see what exactly I've got here." he said as he walked around my living room, nosing through my pictures on the tables and walls. I stood in the doorway and watched him. He had an absolutely commanding presence.
He turned at the far end of the living room and faced me. "Come here." he said. I did. I moved across the room as if on a skate.
"Are you ready to obey me?" he asked.
"Yes" I responded. "I will obey you."
"Good. You better." he said. It wasn't a threat, but it was the truth. I could feel that much in my bones.
"Get on your knees and look up" he ordered. Suddenly, I was on my knees before this alpha.
"Convince me that I won't be wasting my time with you" he said to my surprise. Wanton desire welled up in me. I knew I would debase myself in any manner and in any way he commanded. And I told him so. My submissiveness to him- in all things and in all ways- gushed out. I actually have no idea what specifically I said, but it must have worked. He smiled and looked down at me me with his dark eyes that burned with lust.
"I'm going to fuck you mind, body, and soul" he said. It was- and is to this day- the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to me.
He cupped my head in his massive hands. Palming each side of my head and directing my face up towards him. His thumbs began roughly pushing and mashing my face and lips. I was enthralled to him and was puddy in his hands. My lips parted. I wanted to taste him again. He knew and he wasn't ready to allow that just yet.
I reached out to rub his package through his gray gym shorts. I could feel the heat. "You feel that? That's what a real man feels like." His dick was massive. My lust overflowed.
"Now get those shorts down- but DO NOT touch my cock." I complied. I pulled his shorts down. His jock strap could barely contain his cock and balls. It was actually staining under the force of his erection.
Clay looked down on me with a stern look. He was all business. He pulled his t-shirt over his long torso and broad shoulders. His abs and pecs had a light dusting of brown hair and his dark, round nipples were pert. His ropy muscled looked like they'd been chiseled from stone by one of the master sculptors. I instinctually reached up to feel his abs and chest. He let me feel him up. Touching his skin sent bolts of electricity through my body. My hands worshipped him.
"Stop fucking around and get that damn jock off me, asshole." I had been mesmerized by body and would have been content to simply caress him. What the fuck was happening to me? I was not able to control myself in his presence. His command brought me around, though, and I gripped the band of the jock strap to slide it down his legs. I noticed I was bitting down hard on my lip. I was on needles with anticipation to see his full package.
And holy fucking shit- his dick and balls delivered.
I knew he was packing. But. Goddamn. He wasn't even fully hard and he was 7.5 or 8 inches. And thick. Like a baby's arm. His dick had fucking personality- like a General. It was ram-rod straight. Not overly veiny. Powerful looking. Perfect bell-shaped helmet head. Like the Platonic-ideal of big dicks. His heavy, bull balls hung beneath, completing the perfection. He trimmed his pubes, which kind of surprised me. His crotch had an intense smell- musty and sharp. Like a man. I felt light-headed- was the very sight of this man's cock and balls going to make me pass out?
"Jesus, get a grip" I said to myself.
I broke my admiring and engrossing view of his massive, masterful cock to look up to him. "Your body is perfect" I rasped. He looked down for a long moment and said, "Open your mouth." I did.
He inserted his index finger into my mouth. I closed it around his finger, instinctively.
"Keep your fucking mouth open. You best listen to what I'm telling you to do. That and nothing more- or we're going to have an issue." There was an iciness in his commanding tone. I opened my mouth.
He probed my gaping mouth with first one, then two, then four fingers. He was testing the openness of my mouth and my willingness to let him have his way, I guessed. He pushed most of his hand down into my mouth and towards my throat. His fingers and hand were too much. I wretched as his long, thick fingers reached deep down into my throat.
He pulled out his split-slick covered hand and wiped it all over my face. And then he fucking plowed his hand right back in. I began to get a little nervous on the third repeat of this. I had eaten not long before heading to the gym. I really didn't want my late breakfast to make a reappearance.
"You're going to have to lose that gag reflex. We'll have to work on that later."
"Now suck my fingers while I decide if you can handle any more of me."
I dove after his hand. I stared with his index and then middle finger. Working my tongue in ripples as I treated his fingers like my new reason for being. And damn they were manly fingers. How does someone actually taste like hotness and sex, I wondered, as I sucked. I truly got lost in worshipping his fingers that I was shocked when he smacked me on the forehead with his left hand.
"Hey, fag- look up." I did. And he spat right across my face. I burned with desire and humiliation. He spat again, partially blinding me. He looked at me, covered in his spit, and said "Damn" then used his fingers to round up all the spit and fed it into my hungry mouth. I loved it and hated it. But mostly loved. I was rock hard and leaking precum like crazy.
His fully hard cock was dancing just inches away from my mouth as he probed it again with his fingers. Fully erect now, he was more than 9 inches. His dick looked obscene.
He withdrew his index finger from my mouth and used his hand, wet with my spit, to brush back my hair. "There, I like a sub to be able to look up while he's serving." He said this like it was old hat. Clearly, he's had experience. My eyes were locked on his cock, though. My mouth began to water. I felt lightheaded again. The physical effect this man had on me was like nothing I'd experienced.
He smacked me, opened handed. Not enough to knock me over, but hard enough.
"Pay attention. Look up. I may let you taste my cock. I may not. But your only job here is to focus on me. Look at me when I talk to you, Will." When he said my name, I almost came. Jesus, I thought. I may be in over my head here.
"Suck my ring finger and wedding band." I was kind of shocked by this, as he offered me his left hand. I hadn't really noticed that he had a wedding band, or if I had, it hadn't made an impression. I complied and, as I did, looked up into his eyes.
"Yeah, suck that finger. Taste that platinum ring, you bitch." His ring finger was longer than some dicks I've sucked. I looked up as he tilted his head back and let lose a sigh of deep pleasure. A flood of accomplishment surged through me. I did this for him. The power exchange from me to him was real and intense.
I tried not to think about him having a wife.
As if reading my mind he looked down at me and said, "My wife and I are poly. Well, I am, at least. She understands that I have desires, urges--- fuck, I have needs that she can't compete with or satisfy. She submitted to me fully- mind and body- on our first date. She's been my first sub ever since. Truth be told, there are some things I have to do- that I have to IMPOSE [there was a depth to his emphasis of that word] on others- that I don't want to do to her."
I was astounded Clay was being so forthright with me. I looked at him as he flexed his finger in my mouth for emphasis. He continued, "She serves me by consenting to this openness. Her love for me allows me freedom and I love her for that. She knows and accepts that I chose her to be my wife and mother of my kids, but that my needs cannot be -- will not be-- bound into a single relationship. I have been and will always be honest with her. We are socially monogamous- Nashville is a very small town, of course- but otherwise, I have free reign. I give her all the love and satisfaction that she asks for sexually and emotionally, but my needs and desires go beyond that and require... other... outlets. Sometimes I tell her about you others. Sometimes not. She does sometimes ask to clean my cock when she knows I've come home after just fucking one of my other subs. And sometimes I allow her to do it. Sometimes not. She rarely asks for details- knowing that she could ask and I would tell her everything. When she has asked, I've told her- in full- and watched her cum, simply from my retelling."
His eyes closed and his face flushed. Memories of lust and an alpha's ultimate satisfaction, I assumed.
"I have always felt a need to make others bend to my will. I let subs- like my wife... like you- serve me and provide that outlet. When I don't, well... let's just say things don't go well for me or anyone around me."
He said all this as I was sucking his ring finger and swirling my tongue around his wedding band. He tasted amazing and I felt a strong wave of calmness crest over me. Like all was right with the world. I knew in my heart and soul that there was no place on heaven or hell or Earth that I would rather be.
"Ok, Will. Now you may suck my dick."
I dove onto his enormous cock with wild abandon. He filled my mouth and then my throat. As he thrust, I felt my gag reflex begin to kick in. I pushed off his massive thighs, but he already had his right hand on the back of my head.
"Let's work on losing that gag- as good as it feels, you can't keep retching every time I fuck your face." Clay said nonchalantly. I wanted to ponder all this, but my body kept instinctively reacting to a massive foreign object being thrust in and out of my gullet.
"Breath through your nose and concentrate on pleasing me. You mouth is here for my use, right?" Clay asked, rhetorically.
I nodded and tried to concentrate on breathing. The next time he thrust his cock deep into my throat, I violently retched.
"Ha, oh, well, Rome wasn't conquered in a day, now was it?" Clay said with a chuckle. I wished I could share is laugh, but I was seriously worried that I was going to puke.
Clay, sensing my rising panic- and bile- pulled his hefty cock all the way out of my mouth with a wet, slurping plop.
"Look at me" he commanded. I complied. "This is where you belong, right?" I nodded. I must have looked so pathetic. My dick ached.
"You are serving a real man, that's the only thing you're good for, right?" I nodded again. His massive dick swayed just out of my reach.
"You're a fucking worthless piece of shit that is an open hole for me to use as I need, right?" I nodded yet again. Clay was reordering things in my brain. He was taking control. And it was exactly how I wanted it to be. My look up to him must have adequately conveyed my complete and utter submission to him, as Clay smile benevolently down at me. A warmth washed through me.
He slapped me, hard, broadsided with his big right hand.
"I asked you questions, but you have no words, only a limped dick, pathetic nod?" Clay's smile was gone.
"I am yours to use and abuse and fuck as you decide." I said with a lusty voice. Clay nodded, satisfied with my reply and then pointed his dick at my mouth and outlined my lips with his massive bell head. Pre-cum oozed and I lapped. He then began to slap me with his log of a cock. Each slap burned and I wanted more.
"Open." I opened. He thrust in balls deep. I clenched deeply and my body shuttered. He was cunting my throat. I let him have his way. My deeply, intensely, whole body gag was turned into a way to pleasure this alpha. Clay proceeded to forcefully skull fuck me with a violence and sustained fortitude I'd never experienced before. Occasionally, he would pull out so that his heavy bell head was on my tongue, but those interludes were few in his brutal fucking. My eyes streamed, my nose ran, and my jaw ached, but I was here for his pleasure, so I sublimated my pain.
Eventually, his thrusts somehow increased in intensity. I felt him being to tense and watched his balls draw up. I steeled myself for his orgasm. Once he came, it was like a nuclear detonation. His massive hands enveloped my head like a vice. "Take my fucking cum, you faggot! Ah, goddam, fuck, take it" Clay exclaimed with a guttural roar.
The first, second, and third volley went straight to my belly, since he'd lodged his long, thick dick entirely down my throat. As he continued his climax, Clay withdrew so just the tip of his cock was in my mouth. He shot jet after jet of thick, rich cum onto my tongue. At his last orgasmic shudder, I reached up to milk him into my mouth. I was collecting his cum on my togue. I knew I need to show him my mouth full before I greedily swallowed his dna.
"Holy fuck. You're mouth just gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever had. And I've fucked a lot of holes." Clay said as he panted. I beamed. He brushed my hand away from his cock and he jacked himself several times, his bell head still in my mouth. I caught every last drop of his precious juice.
"Open, show me." Clay commanded. I complied. I opened to show him his pearly cum coating my tongue.
"God, you were made for this, you absolute cum slut faggot. Taste me and swallow every drop." Clay sounded satiated in a way he hadn't before.
I closed my mouth to savor the taste of his cum. And then I swallowed. And then I opened my mouth to show him. I needed him to know that I'd obeyed.
"What a fucking find you were. Damn, am I going to love fucking you into oblivion." Clay said as he reached to caress my face with his large right hand. I melted into his touch.
"Now, I want you to cum thinking about my cum in your belly. I'm going to tell you to cum and you're going to do it. Look up at me." Clay commanded. I looked up. I was so ready to bust.
"Please make me cum, daddy. Please." I begged. "Ok, fag, you have earned it. But remember, I'm allowing you to cum. Right?" Clay said, that icy sternness back in his voice.
"Yessir." I responded. Clay moved his left leg directly in front of me. I looked down, then up. "Get off your knees and squat." Clay ordered. I repositioned myself. He moved his gym shoe directly under my crotch. "Grab my leg" he ordered and I grabbed. Clay began to rock his massive foot up and down. I looked up at my alpha. His foot rocking back and forth created a steady and growing pressure on my asshole, my taint, and my balls. My cock was writhing against his foot and ankle each time he rocked his foot. My orgasm was building. He was going to make be cum and soon, I could feel the on-coming rush, but then, to my horror, he stopped. I became panicked.
"Strip off your shorts and underwear and then squat back down." Clay said with a smirk. "I want your pathetic fag cock out in the open while I make you cum. I want to see your shrived dick cum." My cock isn't too shabby around 6 and ½ inches and pretty girthy, but compared to Clay's magnificent dick, I had a micro penis.
I gingerly removed my gym shorts and boxer briefs. I was afraid if I jostled my cock too much, I would cum before Clay allowed me to. My cock was achingly hard and I was leaking pre-cum like crazy.
As I squatted, Clay resumed rocking his foot. I looked up and wonder if I could take his cock or balls into my mouth. His cock was just out of reach, but his heavy balls were tantalizingly close. I hazarded a chance I slurped his left ball into my mouth. "Careful faggot, my balls are very sensitive." I froze. "Keep sucking, just be gentle with a real man's balls."
I noticed my body contorting to allow for maximum friction from Clay's gym shoe, as I arched to ride his foot. Clay responded by increasing the speed and pressure.
"Ok, fag, cum now. You're going to cum for me right now. Do it for your new daddy- cum!" Clay said with a deep and lusty voice. He stopped rocking his foot and pulled it out from under my ass and slid it under my now cumming dick. I came so hard I saw stars. I was holding onto his tree truck of a leg, with his ball in my mouth and I came like a fireworks display on the 4th of July.
I think I started to cry or babble or something, but a light smack from Clay brought me back. "My pathic fag, you've cum all over my shoe. Clean them up, now!" Clay said with a sharpness.
I was still trying to pull my brain back into place from the galactic orgasm. I looked up at him blankly.
"He fag. Will... earth to Will? Lick your weak ass cum off my gym shoes. I want them sparkling clean." Clay said as he slapped me across the face several times. I was in a daze.
The slaps finally snapped me back to reality. Clay had given me an order. My cum, his shoes. I peeled myself off of his leg and leaned down to his left shoe. I'd creamed all over his boat like New Balances. I began to lap up my cum and Clay rotated his shoe, making sure I covered every service and sucked up all my cum.
"Now, you've swallowed my load and your load, I think we can call that a night.", Clay said to me with a wink.
Clay tuned to grab his jock and gym shorts from beside the couch. I sat and watched as he stuffed his massive package into this jock, then pulled up his shorts. "I'll be in touch faggot, until then, you are not to suck, fuck, or cum without my permission. Understood?"
"Understood. Clay, thank you. I.. I've... I'm..." I stammered, I so wanted to convey my appreciation for how he'd handled me. What he'd unlocked in me. What he'd gifted me.
"Faggot, shut the fuck up. If I want something from you, I'll ask." Clay said as he lifted his right foot and (gently) planted the sole of his size 14 on my forehead and pushed me down on my back. I looked up at him from underfoot. "Sleep tight, you worthless cunt."
I stayed prone on the floor for a long time after Clay left just trying- and failing- to process what had just happened.
<End part 1, thanks for reading! I very much enjoyed writing it. Stay tuned for more.>