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Even The First - PART THIRTYONE
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Even The First - PART THIRTYONE
When I got back to Paul's house, the front light was on and the door open. I went in. Paul was sitting on the sofa, stroking his hard on, watching the telly. He switched off the sound.
"So what took so long? Where the fuck've you been?"
"I've been looking for Sean like you said."
"D'ye find him?"
"Yes. Eventually."
"So where is he?"
"He didn't want to come back."
"So where is he?"
"He went off."
"Went off? The little cunt."
"I tried to persuade him."
"You did, did you?"
"But ..."
"But what?"
"But he just didn't want to."
"Didn't want to, huh? Thought I'd lost you again as well. What took you so long?"
"I was trying to persuade him to come back."
"I know. I know."
I didn't tell Paul about rimming Sean across a park bench. I didn't think he'd want to hear that.
He looked at me suspiciously. "Are you telling me the truth? If I find out you didn't even look. If I find out you've been lying and you could have found him and brought him back ... I'm going to get him. Right. I'm goIng to hunt him down. Right. You know what I'm like. I don't stop."
"Honestly, Paul. He freaked out. He just didn't like the lifestyle. He just didn't like the look of it. He just decided he didn't want to be ... like that."
"Like what?"
"Like me. He just decided that he didn't want to spend his life like that."
"You're not him," said Paul. "It would have had to be different. You tailor it for each individual. He was your princess-type. I called him princess. He was outwardly butch as you like, but inside he was a lass. He wanted to be treated nice. I mean, I always knew I'd have to be careful. You have to be careful with someone like that. He wouldn't accept restraint the way you took to it. He didn't naturally want to be 24-7. But I was looking forward to it, looking forward to the game. Looking forward to breaking him down. Looking forward to gradually cracking him open ..."
I stood listening. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps Sean was like that, but I didn't think so. I thought Sean was manly; I thought he was a tourist who'd taken a look, and then gone away.
Paul sat brooding, looking at the silent telly, his legs spread, one hand scratching his groin, the other stroking his chest.
"I once knew this guy," he said at last, "very talkative. Chatty. And when he saw my cock he went all quiet and started shallow breathing and staring, like yeah, and I knew all he wanted was he wanted it. Once he saw it I knew he'd do what I wanted cs he wanted it. I loved that I knew that about him. But he never knew, cs he wasn't in in control. See? He wanted it but he didn't know how much he wanted it. But I knew. Sean's like that. He's a princess whose thing is, he wants it. That's what he's like. He wants it. It's just a matter of time. I'll find him. I'll get him back - because he wants it."
He touched his dick. It was semi. He looked up at me, looking at his dick.
"You want it?"
He smiled.
"You always want it."
He hid it beneath his arm and hand-cupped his sack.
"When I was young I thought I'd never find a guy would let me stick my cock up his arse. Now I find that's not so much a problem. But finding someone I want to fuck and fuck and fuck, someone like you, that's the real prize. That's why I wanted you. That's what I was offering you. Do you understand that?"
"I ... do," I said.
He continued, "I thought when I saw you that first time, 'You don't know it, but you're a sub.' I knew I could break you. And I was right. I saw you, and I immediately thought to myself, 'Right. I know what I want.'
"And later when you were telling me all these stories about yourself, in the army, made me think, 'I think you're trying to impress me. Aren't ya?' I like that. And all those stories you've told were just you trying to impress me. Am I right? Don't answer. I want you to listen. I want you to know that that's what this is all about: I want you to know that I know that you will never leave. No matter what. You're not Sean. You will never leave. No matter what. You will stay here. Like this. Forever. Understand what I am saying to you. You. Will. Never. Leave."
I looked at his face. He was looking straight at the telly.
He continued, "And I thought, 'Here's the deal. I will own you. I will control you. I will look after you. I will fuck you. I will make that commitment.' You had a choice: You take it. You leave it. Your choice.
"I knew I still had to crack your spirit but I knew it was a job already half well done. Right. No one likes being humiliated. You don't like being humiliated, course you don't. But it's just that in your case there's no other way. You need it. You are engaged in a search for solid ground. You need it. But you need to be humiliated to be controlled. You need to be under another man's sway. That's just you. I think you accept it. I think you accept that now."
He stared at me for some time.
"It's like pain. No one likes it. No one. Right. You've been punished. Do you know why you've been punished? Right. Cs you disobeyed. Right. Now that's it. Back to normal. No one likes pain but in your case it has to be administered forcefully, otherwise ... Right. Pain is just a way to maintain control, which we've just agreed you need. When you're acting stupid. When you're not doing as your told or as you know you should, right, it's there to correct you. Bring you back into line. Do you understand? Right. Do you see what happens when you accept your place? Things are much better. Things are much better. Right. It's not about who you are or what you are; it's about your place, knowing and accepting it. Trust me: I know it. I know your proper place."
I shifted on my feet, just a slight adjustment of my weight distribution.
"Come here Douglas," he said. It sounded strange to hear him speak my name. He opened his arms and indicated his lap. His cock was erect now and stood upright against his stomach, a stiff rock of moist shining flesh, so that I could rest my full weight on his legs without squashing it, but I could still feel it, like a ridge of iron digging against my thigh. My broken skin rubbed uncomfortably against his body covered in dark rough hair.
He smiled.
"Ahh I'd forgotten how good it is to hold you. Just hold you like this, on my lap, my arms around you, caring for you, protecting you."
He breathed.
"Do you know what gives worth to the worthless? Another man. That's what gives worth to the worthless. Understand? Do you know how important you are to me?" he said, quietly. "Nobody else knows. Nobody. They think they understand the situation, but nobody does. That's how important you are. I ... discovered you. I explored you. I gave life to you. I created you. And I exploited you. I have been inside you. I AM inside you, inside your body, I am, inside you and, in your mind and, everything you do is me. I'm so proud of you. You okay?" He asked. "Soon better. Still sore?"
I nodded.
"Still angry? Still upset? You shouldn't be. You should be grateful. You should be happy. You ARE happy. I think you are happy. Like this. Here. Now. Aren't you?"
He grabbed my chin. Held me like that, by the chin, and scrunched up my lips so I looked stupid, and kissed me, at first like you'd kiss a pet and then more forcefully so that his rough face hurt mine and felt like it was burning, a special kind of burning, like it was his desire to have me that I could feel through the heat of our skin.
He stared at me. I tried to look away. I wondered, briefly, if he could taste Sean's smell on me, but then forgot to care.
"You said I had no mind," I said at last.
He tapped my nose and smiled.
"That was just for effect. That was just for Kevin. You have a mind. You have freedom."
"You said I was nothing."
"You're everything. You are incredible. Calm down. You've been through a lot. Calm down. Hey," he said. "I am a confident man. You have me in charge."
I let him hold me. I felt once again, huge in his arms. He put a hand on my breast and squeezed it, measuring my bulk, holding my shoulder with his other hand. It was sore where Kevin had hit it. Then he stroked my nipple, squeezed it and then did the same to the other pec.
He traced Kevin's knife cuts with his finger tip.
"Does that hurt?"
"A little bit."
"That's good. You need to heal now, but don't you forget. Don't forget."
"I won't forget Sir."
"Do you understand?"
"Yes Sir."
He smiled.
"You need this strength," he said. "You need my strength. This is what it means to be owned. It's taken a long time, baby, for you to realise I know what's good for you; you know I know what's good for you. When you get bad, that's when I have to remind you, but I don't care what anyone says: You're the best. You're the bravest. You're the ... best-est, braver-est, beautiful-est ..." He smiled.
I didn't say anything. I tried to look away from his face but he wouldn't let me. Then he was serious. "Do you wish to leave? You can go. But ... being with you, having you as my slave, having that sense of complete and total ownership, has been the main relationship of my life."
"I didn't ask for it," I said, "you tricked me. You manipulated me. You brainwashed me. You made me into your servant. You never asked me. I never agreed."
"Oh, you agreed. You just didn't know you agreed. You wanted to be manipulated, brainwashed, whatever you just said. You wanted a real proper man to own you and control your life."
All the time he was touching me, stroking me, sniffing my skin, stroking his fingers across my skin, soothing me. Occasionally he would blow my ear and kiss me. All the time he was holding me. He was holding me. Like I was a great big doll that would fall over if he let go of it.
"You think your life is meaningless? Your life isn't meaningless: It is owned. I have owned you. That is your meaning." He sniffed and wiped his nose, wiping his fingers on my face, pushing them between my lips. "Clean that up. Thanks."
"Do you think you was brainwashed all those years? You wasn't; you was happy. Right. Happy to be owned. Happy to be controlled. Happy to be used, for pleasure - your owner's pleasure and other men's pleasure - because it pleased the man who owned you to have you used. That's what made you happy. Even now I see how excited it makes you to know you were being controlled, used, and how your slave needs were ... Manipulated? And ... Exploited? Your lusts are animal, and you cannot deal with them by yourself. That's why you seek out men who will do the job; by controlling and using you they are keeping you from being destroyed.
"Enough of that."
Paul surveyed my body seated on his lap, muscular as he was and just as huge, but I didn't feel at all awkward balancing myself on his knees with my arms around him and his arms around me. He held on to me tight and I held on to him tight. "You've let yourself go," he said. He pinched a piece of my flesh - a thin flap of subcutaneous fat riding across hard muscle. "Do you think that's what I want to see? D'you think I want to fuck mister lard-arse? You gotta lose that. You gotta tighten up. What do you expect me to say? Fatties don't turn me on. You know that. That might be good enough for Nigel. I set a higher standard. I think you're going to have to go on a diet. High protein, low carb. Less of everything. Lose that. Get you back into shape. When you're back in shape, then I can fuck you again. Do you think I wouldn't cum in you? Right now, no way. There's your incentive right there. Right. No fuck til it's back where it should be. No hard on, right."
I was getting a hard on.
"No fuck. No cum. No hard on. Right."
"You see, a man thinks about his cock all the time. Right. I think about my cock. I think about what I'd like to do with it just like I think about what I'd like to do with you. You're my property. That is my property. Right." He indicated my dick. "Right. You should never be thinking about your cock. That's an order. Only about my cock and what I'm going to do to you with it when you've earned it. Right. You like that?"
He looked at my penis, rocking half erect between my hard thighs. I looked at it.
"Hey. Don't look at it. You're not to do anything til I give you permission. Right."
His voice was kind.
"We're making a fresh start. Right?"
I blinked.
"Right?!"
"Yes Sir" I replied.
"Don't cry, you idiot," he said with a smile.
"Wipe your face."
"Sorry Sir."
"Don't apologise. It's good to see some emotion. You're not a machine."
"No Sir."
"No sir. You're a man. I'm a man. Men have emotions."
"Yes Sir."
"Men feel things, like you do."
"Yes Sir," I mumbled and then, I leaned toward him and I couldn't control it any longer and I cried again, shaking tears that made his shoulder wet.
"Yeah yeah. We all feel things. Right. We're not getting any younger, but you'll be ok. Right. I'm in control. Remember that." He patted my head. "You just got to accept your place. Right. I think you do now, don't you?"
I hesitated, "Do I ... what, Sir?"
Paul sighed.
"Accept your place. You do now, don't you, accept your place?"
"Oh yes Sir," I said, nodding and looking at his eyes with blank honesty. "I do accept," I said.
"Accept your place."
"I accept ... my place ... Sir," I said, nodding.
Paul smiled.
"Right. Do what I tell you to do. Each and every moment. That's all. Promise to be good. Do you promise to be good?"
"Yes Paul," I said. "I promise to be good."
"Good boy. That's better. Now then ..."
Paul put his hand on my thigh and slid his fingers between my legs so that I could feel them there touching me. I could feel one finger moving there, touching me, like a creature.
As my breathing deepened he said,
"Yeah.
"Yeah.
"Mine.
"All mine.
"I'll
"fuck you
"...
"when you're ready,"
I wanted to feel his erection rise between my legs; I wanted to feel it and let it separate my thighs and let it in.
"when you're ready. Do you want me to fuck you? Are you ready?"
And I thought "Please don't leave me alone. Please don't. Please don't leave me."
"Are you ready?
"I'll tell you when you are ready;
"I'll tell you ..."
And we kissed, again, rubbing the rough of our faces together.
"That's all."
"Right.
"Remember that.
"Right.
"This has been going on for long enough.
"Right.
"Time to make some changes.
"Right.
"Time for a fresh start."
THE END.
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END OF Even The First - PART THIRTYONE