BDSM Twinks

Collaring the Boy

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“Hello, Sir! Come on up.” I could hear the excitement in Michael’s voice even through the crappy apartment intercom. He was always pleased to see me, but usually he was a bit more soft-spoken. However, I’d been out of town for few weeks on business, so I could tell he had been missing me. He couldn’t possibly know what I was planning. Could he?

The door buzzed and I made my way upstairs to his second floor apartment. He was a grad student, so he was living in a not great apartment building near campus. He’d occasionally gotten complaints from the neighbors about the noises we made during my visits. I expected that he’d get complaints after this one. My cock was already semi-hard with anticipation. I’d only known him for about 6 months; this was maybe our 10th get-together. But we sparked in a way I hadn’t sparked with someone in a long time.

As I approached the door of his apartment, it opened as if by magic to let me in. Michael was standing behind the door and closed it as I went through. His apartment was a pretty typical cheap one-bedroom affair: a kitchenette with space for a small table and two chairs with a small living room opening off of it. A tiny bedroom and bathroom off to the left. It looked like it had been built in the 50s and never seriously renovated, other than updating the appliances. Michael had decorated the space in Starving Grad Student chic: furniture either curb-shopped or gotten from Goodwill, a bookshelf with his Econ texts, a decent tv on a battered tv stand with a gaming console beneath it, and some posters for anime shows I didn’t recognize. The only thing that really stood out was the new brushed-metal futon couch. I’d bought it for him before my trip, to replace a horrible tattered couch he had been using.

I walked past the kitchenette and into the living room space and then turned around. Seeing Michael just made me smile. He was in his mid-20s, with a body that straddled the line between twink and jock; his frame said ‘twink’,  but the definition he was slowly gaining said ‘jock’. He was a hard gainer and adding muscle came slowly for him, but I could see how he’d developed since I met him. His pecs were firmer and a bit bigger than during that first hook-up, and his guns were decent. His skin was fair but his hair was jet-black and thick; he wore it short on the sides but longer on top with angular bangs. Old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses completed his style. He was wearing nothing but a red jock I had given him.

After closing the door, he stepped up to me and then knelt and kissed my wing-tips. Then he knelt back on his haunches but kept his back arched as he looked up at me. He knew I liked that. Despite the restraint in his movements, I could see excitement in his body language and in his eyes. “Hello, Sir.”

I ran my hands through his hair affectionately. “Did you miss me, boy?” We had texted almost every day during my trip, so I already knew his answer, but I wanted to hear it.

“More every day, Sir.”

I let him rest his head against my thigh. My erection was probably obvious through the fabric of my dress pants but that was ok. One of the things I had emphasized to him is that our interactions were a space where our desires could be expressed openly. Just standing over him like this felt good. It confirmed what I was intending on doing. And seeing the way he leaned his head against my leg made me surprisingly happy. I was suddenly keenly aware of how much I’d missed him when I was out of town.

I walked over to the futon couch and sat down. I spread my legs and gestured to the space between them. He immediately crawled over and resumed his stance. He waited expectantly for me to say something. I felt a brief moment of doubt. I really didn’t know him that well; was this such a wise idea? But as I looked down, into his expectant brown eyes, I felt my heart quiver a bit. I rarely got that feeling, and it confirmed my desires.

“Boy,” I said, and hesitated, momentarily feeling alarmingly emotional. “It’s obvious to me that you and I have a spark. We fit very well together. You submit very easily and always strive to please me when we’re together.” I paused, looking for the right words.

“Of course, Sir. I should always strive to please you, Sir. Your pleasure comes first.”

I nodded. “And that is what I mean, boy. You understand that. Many other subs don’t.”

He looked confused. “But that’s what being a submissive is all about, Sir.”

“To many subs, it’s just about their pleasure.”

“My pleasure comes from serving, Sir. If there is ever anything you want from me, you should tell me and I’ll do it.”

I nodded again. “I know. And there is. I did some thinking while I was in Houston and I’ve decided to collar you.”

I reached into the pocket of my suit coat and pulled out a leather collar I had bought earlier in the day. It was a simple collar, just a strip of leather about an inch wide, with simple silvery fittings.

Michael’s face opened up in wonder as he processed what I had just said. “Sir, I…”

“I’ve learned that you are not good at making choices, boy. You need a strong authority figure in your life telling you what to do. So I’m not offering you a choice in this. I am simply telling you what is happening.”

He bowed his head. “Yes, Sir. As is your right, if you think I’m worthy of it.”

“Boy, look up.”

He raised his head and looked into my eyes. “Yes, boy, I think you’re worthy of it.” I slipped the collar around his neck and buckled it, testing it to make sure I could get two fingers between the collar and his neck so that it fitted snugly but not too tightly.

“Now let me explain, boy. This is not a forever commitment. We haven’t known each other long enough or well enough for that yet. This is a statement that I am seriously interested in seeing where this can go. I will start giving you rules to follow and I will expect you to follow them even when I’m not around to oversee you. If are dutiful and obedient, in time I will replace this with a permanent collar. But for the immediate future, it’s enough to say that I am the authority in your life and you will do as you are told.”

He bowed his head again. “Yes, Sir.” His tone indicated both a simple acceptance and an sense of excitement.

“Whenever I require your service, boy, that will be your first priority after your studies and your job. Those are the only two things that come before my needs. I know you need a lot of sex, and my job takes me away often enough that I won’t always be able to meet that need. So you are still free to play with others, but you will get my permission before any hook-up. Do I make myself clear, fucker?”

“Yes, Sir. If you’re available, I wouldn’t want to play with someone else instead. My master is more important than anyone else.”

“I’ve also decided that I will be fucking you raw from now on. With anyone else, you will always use condoms, but tonight I’m claiming your ass.”

He looked up at me and I could see a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Michael loved the idea of raw fucking, but the thought also scared him. “As…as you wish, Sir. I would be honored…if you wish to use me that way.”

There was more that Michael and I needed to discuss, a few more rules to give him, but I didn’t want to deal with those right now. There were more urgent needs to attend to. I shrugged off my suit coast and leaned back into the futon. “Make me feel good, boy.”

He had already learned a lot about how I wanted to be pleasured. He ran his hands up the black fabric of my slacks and caressed my cock. He looked up at me and grinned, and then buried his face in my crotch, taking a deep sniff. “So manly,” he murmured, and then began chewing on my cock through my pants.

I loved watching Michael suck me because he became very intent on his work. He took seriously his duty to please me. After working on me for several minutes, he looked up at me as he began to open my pants, pausing to see if I wanted something else instead. Reassured by my smile that he was on the right track, he opened my pants and tugged them down, pausing to remove my dress shoes before taking the pants off. Then he buried his face in my groin again, taking several deep breaths.

I love seeing a boy being passionate, and I’d learned that Michael is very scent-driven. Getting a good sniff of my body odor always pushes his excitement up a level, and this was no different. He pressed his nose into the space between my dick and my thigh like he was a pig rooting for truffles. Normally quite tentative until he knew I was ok with something, here he was insistent, almost aggressive, needing to take my scent in. I laughed with pleasure as he tried to slide his nose under the hem of my boxer briefs.

“Master, may I have your cock, please?”

Michael loved sucking cock, so much so that I often enjoyed frustrating him by making him spend more time than he wanted working on my tool through my underwear. But not tonight. I nodded and let him tug it off me. He took my cock in his hand and paused for a moment with an expression of reverence. Then he attacked it with raw lust.

Michael knew, almost instinctively, the difference between sucking cock and worshipping a cock. It was one of the first things that had made me think about getting together with him a second time. As I lay back, he did everything he possibly could to pleasure me. He licked and sucked my dick, but he did so much more. He kissed it, played with the piss slit, stroked it, gently nibbled the ridge of the head, tugged on and sucked the balls, and more. It was as though he couldn’t express his desire for it enough. He enjoyed worshipping my cock, but this truly wasn’t about him. It was about me, my cock, and what my cock represented to him.

He slid his hands under my dress shirt, running them up my chest searching for my nipples. I unbuttoned the shirt to give him easier access and he quickly located my nipples and began playing with them, tugging and twisting on them. He had learned very quickly that I’m something of a tit-pig, and as much as he could, he worked them, listening to my breathing and my body language to judge how aggressive to be. Michael was a fast learner and rarely had to be told things twice. His potential for training and his ability to focus entirely on my pleasure was a big part of why I was collaring him.

After a truly intense cock-worshipping, Michael crawled up onto the couch. He enthusiastically pushed his nose into my right armpit and began smelling it. He looked up at me long enough to smile broadly and then he attacked my right nipple, biting it with increasing force. I gasped from the heady mixture of pleasure and pain and arched my back to give him easier access. As he worked my tit, he also stroked my cock. I could feel my load starting to rise.

“Back off, boy. I’m close.”

He released his hold on both my nipple and my cock. “Sorry, Sir. I just want to please you. You deserve it.”

I put my right hand on the back of his head and guided him up to my mouth. We kissed and the  passion I was feeling for him came pouring out of me. This boy was mine now! I pressed my tongue deep into his mouth and wrestled with his. As I did, I reached down and began to finger his hole, which was already lubed up, as I knew it would be. As I stroked his hole, I felt him shudder.

He broke off the kiss and just raised his head, eyes closed, to savor what I could tell was an intense sensation. His mouth kept opening and clothing.

“Oh, Sir! No one does that like you do! God, my pussy has missed you so badly…”

I got up off the couch. “Face the wall, boy.”

Michael turned a quarter turn to the left, so that he was facing a poster for some anime called Vampire Princess Miyu. He put his arms up on the portion of the futon frame that was raised to make the back of the couch. He spread his knees wide and pushed his butt out, arching his back in the process. I ran my hand over his ass, enjoying how it was firmer than it was when we met. I had told him that I liked a good ass, and he had quickly changed his workouts to develop his ass. His hole glistened with lube; he’d prepped himself for this.

I stood behind him, my shirt open but still on, and stroked my cock up and down along the crack of his ass, teasing his hole with the head but not pushing in. My cock was dribbling so much pre-cum it was become hard for me to keep a hold of it. I wanted to savor this moment of claiming him, building the anticipation as much as possible. He began to murmur encouraging noises which slowly grew more and more frustrated and urgent. “Sir…

“Yes, boy?” I asked playfully.

“Don’t tease me, Sir. I need you in me.”

“Have you missed me, boy?”

“God, yes! I’m gotten more and more horny for you. My dildo doesn’t do what your dick can do for me.”

“What does my cock do for you, boy?”

“It fills me, Sir. It satisfies me. It feels so perfect.”

“Boy, when I do this, I’m gonna claim your ass as my property.”

“Do it, Sir. Do it! I’ve been fantasizing about you making me yours since the first time we met. Your cock makes me your pussyboy.”

I felt myself quiver inside. Was I really about to do this? I’d had boyfriends before, but I’d never had a boy, someone I had charge over. I’d craved that for a long time, but Michael was the first guy I’d truly felt it was possible to have that with. His need to please me, his pliancies, called to me like a siren, and I knew I wasn’t going to resist.

Without any warning, I pushed against the soft, tight warmth of his asshole and it relaxed and admitted me readily. I sighed with pleasure. It had been a while since I’d fucked someone raw, and I’d forgotten just how good it felt, how much more intimate it is than wearing a condom.

Michael let out a deep moan, the sort of noise you make when you’ve had your shoes on for too long and have taken them off and it just feels good. “Oh god, Sir! Fill my cunt!”

I give him a few long, slow strokes. “Is this what you need, boy?”

“Yeah, my Master’s cock claiming my pussy in a way no one else can. Just use me, Sir. Make me your bitch.”

I began to ramp up the force of my thrusts. “You want to be my bitch, fucker?” Normally I didn’t use that sort of language, but when I got really aroused, it tumbled out of me. And this time, it wasn’t just something I was saying. It was something true. “Cuz there’s no going back now, boy. I’ve claimed ownership of this hole. I’m gonna fuck it whenever I want.”

Michael didn’t say anything in response, and instead just made encouraging noises. He knew how to bear down on a cock, tightening his ass around my shaft. I could tell he was working extra hard to do it, and it felt amazing.

I leaned forward, putting my arms on the back of the futon frame and sort of engulfing Michael with my body. It allowed me to thrust deeper into him. “This is how it should be. A master mounting his boy like a dog mounting his bitch.” It felt like we were doing something primal, expressing an almost biological fact of my superiority over him. What little doubt I had left dissolved. I needed to do this.

He pushed back against my thrusts, giving me enough resistance to make fucking him feel wonderful. My cock was alive with the sensation of skin on skin; maybe it was had just been a long time since I’d boned without a condom, but every sensation felt more intense than it usually did. He was begging me to fuck him hard, to claim his ass, and to full him up, and I wanted nothing more than to oblige. I was lost in the pleasure of fucking my boy.

My boy. The thought that I had collared him was adding so much depth to what might otherwise have just been a simple fuck, and I was pretty sure Michael was feeling something similar. It felt like we were stepping through a curtain into some wonderful new playroom filled with endless possibilities, and I was eager to explore.

Suddenly, without warning, or more likely with a warning that I missed, I was cumming. I felt myself unloading in him, and Michael was practically shouting his gratitude for my seed. I was planting myself inside him, binding him to me in a way so profound I could sense but couldn’t quite understand it.

The apartment below us banged on the ceiling. I slapped my hand over Michael’s mouth and we both started to laugh, trying to keep it as quiet as possible. I slowly my thrusts down, but did not completely stop them for several minutes. Michael twisted his upper body enough that we were able to start making out. I’d kissed him many times, but there was something special about these kisses. He wasn’t just a guy I was fucking anymore. Now he was my boy. My property.

Just for Practice
Little Shop of Kink


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