Jeff was a marathoner. Not a professional runner, although you might think so. Let me explain. If you know running, there are "weekend runners" "serious runners" "obsessed runners," and then there are marathoners. Jeff was a marathoner. And if there were a bell curve of obsession for marathoners, he'd be all the way to the right. You may know the type: the runner who finds a pair of running shoes s/he really likes, and then contacts the manufacturer to see if s/he can buy the shoes in bulk, so they're on hand "as needed." Know someone like that? Then you know the kind of marathoner Jeff was. Now, he wasn't a "star" marathoner, so he also had a "real" job. Let's say he worked to pay for his marathoning. He was in marketing and sales. He was very good at it too: his body, which was well developed (at 28 he had a six pack), lean and muscular, his bright blue eyes, his expensively cut hair, all helped to charm his customers. And this was a good thing because, ultimately, Jeff wasn't very bright. He wasn't stupid, you just didn't want to have him as a lifeline on one of those shoes where you answer trivia questions.
He had started running marathons toward the end of his high school career. He had joined the track team, and under Coach Davey, they found that his talent was in the long distances. Jeff felt "ok" at the standard longer runs, but he really felt MOST comfortable in the marathon. Coach Davey was a marathoner too, and he found a sympathetic, helpful coach in Davey. He also found a man to whom he could come out, when he was 16. Davey was gay: it had made quite a splash when he came out, AFTER he was hired as an assistant coach, and he and his husband Richard had done a great deal to make the somewhat conservative town much more sensitive to LGBT issues. Their parties, with their whole extended family, including Richard's son from an affair when he was a young man, Davey's two surrogate daughters, Richard's son in law, their housekeeper, etc, were always the highlight of town life. Seeing how much Richard and Davey loved each other , and the way his son and his husband loved each other, was encouraging enough for Jeff to come to Davey's office one day and ask if they could talk. Jeff still remembered how Davey looked at him and said
"Sure. Let's cut through coming out to me. You're gay. Ok, now you need advice.." Jeff had stumbled over his words "How... How did you know?" and Davey laughed. "Jeff, when students want a special appointment with me, after class, it's always because they're gay and they need someone to talk to. So let's talk. And then, let's talk about your form. I saw something in your last race that concerned me. " Indeed, it was something that WOULD turn out to be a problem, but we're getting to that.
After he came out to Davey, Jeff felt much more free, and "clear" as he would tell it. There was ONE part of him that he didn't talk to Davey about, and later in his life, he wished he did. Davey called everyone by their first name. He would ask, for example "do you prefer Jeff or Jeffrey?" and he'd use that name thereafter. There was one exception. Whenever Jeff saw Davey and his husband together, he heard Davey call his husband "Sir." He THOUGHT he knew what that meant, but he wasn't sure. He wanted to talk because at night, when he dreamed of men, and sex, or when he masturbated, he was tied up, or being tortured, or being controlled in some way. He had done some research on the internet, and learned about Domination and submission, and he assumed that Dave and Richard had that kind of relationship, but the only way you'd know, was from hearing Davey call Richard Sir, or the way Davey would curl up into Richard's arm, with it never happening the other way.
In his last year of high school, Coach "Coach" , the director of athletics, had retired, and Davey took his place. He didn't have time to coach the track team anymore, but he would give up part of his weekend to help Jeff train for marathons. Jeff developed good technique, but he was not real good at paying attention to injuries and that was why now, at 28, he found himself with a bad case of plantar fasciitis. His orthopedist was very stern "you stop running for six months, or you won't run. EVER. "
With marathoning on the sidelines for awhile, Jeff turned to other things. Including dating sites. Since high school, he had had some relationships, but he had never found what he really wanted. He found himself looking at what people called "daddy types:" grey hair, beards, rough looking. He would fantasize about being spanked, fucked, ordered around, you name it. He had never found it, and when he was really, REALLY depressed about it, he would think about Davey's husband, who physically fit the description to a tee, had a deep, baritone voice, and seemed to have a way of taking charge. There was one time when he saw him put his hand on the back of Davey's neck and squeeze it, and that image, where he thought of Davey as a kitten in the hands of a Master, could get him off any time.
He found his way to one of the rougher dating sites. His photo was up . It was an honest photo: no touching up. There was one of the problems: Jeff was so good looking, so "all American," that most people who approached him on the site, would ask for an honest photo. When he insisted that WAS his photo, they stopped chatting. When he read profiles of "Daddy Doms," there was always something that made him think "not really DOM enough." And then one night, he came across the profile of Max.
Max' profile didn't give much information: his age (45), his height (6'2"), his weight (185), and his interests: Domination, bondage, control. His statement was "I'm experienced, and I'm 100% in control. That means 100%. Not interested in negotiations, not interested in your wishes. Mine count. " Jeff got hard right away. The photo, with the short cropped salt and pepper, the moustache, the short neatly trimmed beard, didn't hurt. He also didn't feel compelled to go shirtless on the site, but Jeff saw more salt and pepper hair sticking out of the shirt under his crewneck. (Jeff kept his body completely smooth, because he wanted to avoid any problem with wind resistance when he ran).
He decided to take a chance. He sent a short message to Max. "Hi. I'm Jeff. I like your profile." He got no answer. All that night, he would check every half hour. He'd just swat away the folks who had sent him messages that showed they hadn't read HIS profile ("28 year old guy, good looking, submissive, looking for his Daddy Master"), and look for a message from Max. He never got one that night. Or the next night. Or the night after that.
The fourth night, he sent another message. "Hey. It's Jeff. I wrote to you a few nights ago." He got back a message that could have been written in all caps. "You fucking think I have time to write to every 28 year old allegedly good looking sub who writes to me? What makes you so special?" Jeff sat back when he read the message. He hadn't thought about some of that. WERE there a lot of 28 year old subs on the site? He did a search. It took a few seconds. He got well over 500 hits. "SHIT. All that competition!" Well, it wasn't Jeff's makeup to not answer an email like that, so he answered.
"You're right Sir. There's absolutely nothing special about me at all. I apologize for taking up your time."
He got an answer back from Max:
"Ya know, boi? You just might BE special: you're honest. It's a quality absent in a lot of people. " Then the chat started. "Thank you Sir. My track coach told me that my eyes let everyone know when I'm lying." "Ha ha. Your coach is a smart man. You DO have very revealing eyes. So answer me this question? Why did you put up a profile wearing a fucking FLASH costume?" "I'm a runner Sir. Or at least I was until I hurt my foot. I was just trying to make a joke." "A submissive Flash? I wonder if I could sell that to DC comics" "Can I just add, Sir, that I wrote to you because I thought you photo was really hot, and I liked what you wrote. A sub SHOULD be 100% into it, or not bother." "Hmmm. You're beginning to get me interested boi. Your name is jeff?" "For you it's whatever you say it is Sir." It took a few minutes before Jeff got an answer.
"Tell you what, bottom boi. How about meeting at..." and he gave Jeff an address for a bar. Jeff had heard about the bar but hadn't been there . It was supposed to be rough. "Yes sir. I know where that is." "GOOD. Friday 5:30. We can figure out if we're right for each other. If not, no foul. If we are, plan to spend the night." Jeff gulped. "Yes sir. Friday 5:30. I'll be there." "Get some sleep, boi. You won't get much with me."
Jeff saw Max's profile go dark. He dropped his hand in his lap and realized: he was hard as a steel rod. He had a date. Except. SHIT. Friday afternoon? That's when they had team meetings! He could make it, but there'd be no time to change. His office had NOT gone to business casual, and he'd be in suit and tie, going to a rough leather bar. He sighed. Well, he didn't want to fuck things up by writing to Max and telling him he'd be late. He'd just have to "suck it up."
Jeff fantasized about the meet up as he slept on Thursday night. He had a dream where he was naked, tied face down on a bed, with Max pounding him. He moaned, but he couldn't scream because his mouth was filled with a pissy jock strap. He had clamps on his nipples, and his ass stung from the spanking he had gotten for having a fresh mouth. Still , as he slept, he rubbed back and forth against his sheets until... it was the third orgasm he had had thinking about Max.
Jeff always wore a white shirt under his suit: always blue or gray. He went with blue, to match his eyes. He spotted a shirt he hadn't worn for a while, because it had gotten tight (Jeff thought it was because of his muscles. In fact, the shirt had always been tight and the lack of running had put weight on him and the shirt had gotten tighter). He thought that anything that showed off his body was a plus, so he sucked in his gut, decided to skip lunch, and got dressed for work. The weekly team meeting started at 4:30, and at 5, Jeff began to get antsy. What if he ran into traffic. He checked his watch. He checked it again, and again, while the team leader droned on. When he paused, Jeff stood up. "You need to excuse me Mike, but ... nature calls." It WAS calling: in place of lunch, Jeff had drunk 3 diet cokes, and it felt like they were all coming out now. He ran off to the bathroom and then, checking his watch again and seeing it was 5:10, made a beeline for the exit. He'd explain on Monday.
"RASCALS" was the name of the bar he was heading to. There were 6-7 gay bars in the city, and Rascal's had the reputation of being the roughest one. Leather, denim, chains, etc. This wasn't the place to order chardonnay: you got beer, in a can, or brown whiskey. Jeff didn't drink because of the running. He thought to himself "they've got to have diet coke," as he drove off to the place. He found a parking spot, and he got there at 5:28. He was sweating, and shaking. He saw some of the guys who were going in, and thought "What have I done?" Then he took a deep breath, and walked in. Guys didn't wear suits at Rascals, so there was a look of amazement, and amusement, by many of the customers. "You get lost, preppy? " one guy laughed as Jeff walked around. "Uh, no. I'm supposed to meet someone here. " "So are we all, puppy." another guy said and got a laugh back from three guys. He looked around. He really didn't know much of what Max looked like beyond the photo, and he didn't see him. The bar was already crowded, and it was hard to move around. As he went through the crowd, he felt at least a few guys grab his ass, and he thought someone "accidentally" pawed his crotch. He was scared, and ready to turn around and leave. "This was a bad idea" he thought. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard a deep voice. "boi, you didn't chicken out. Bonus points for that jeff." He turned around. It was Max. And he looked EXACTLY like he did in the picture on the site. Jeff was about to give a big HI and a hug, and caught himself. He looked at Max, and put his hands behind his back. "Hi Sir. Thank you for letting me meet you." That seemed to be a good answer. Max smiled. "Seems you've been well trained boy. May make my life easier." "Thank you Sir." Max smiled. He was in a leather jacket over a faded denim shirt, and in jeans that had been new, many years ago. "You're a little overdressed for this place. Take off that tie. Gimme it." It was a designer tie. Jeff forgot how much he paid for it, but it was easily 100.00. Again, he was about to say something but didn't. Max took it from him. "You ever been tied up by a necktie, jeff boi?" jeff blushed. "No sir. I don't have much experience with bondage." "Ha ha. Well, that's gonna change when you're with Max. Whaddya drinking?" "Diet coke Sir." "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Good one, boi. Diet coke? HERE? Take a look at the heifers : you think anyone here drinks Diet coke? He signaled to the bartender. "Two of my usual Frank." "Comin up. That your son, Max? " "Not my son. Maybe my boi." He looked at jeff. "Your picture was honest too. You look like a fucking Ken doll." jeff blushed. "Know what I used to do to my sister's Ken dolls? I used to hogtie them, and add silly putty penises to them. " He reached down and groped jeff. "Not gonna need a silly putty penis for you boi, but you could use a good hogtie." "I could sir. I could use a lot of discipline." Max smiled again. "You know, I wasn't sure, but this may work. " Frank came over with the beers. "Ok, you're a beer wimp, so we'll only do one tonight, but you're gonna have to learn, at least , that this is what I drink. If we go forward, one of your jobs is gonna be to know when I want them, how cold, and to bring them to me." "Yes sir. I waited tables. I could do that." "I waited tables I could do that." Max imitated him. "you're such a fucking preppy. Every preppy dreams of having a MAN'S cum dripping down his face. You dream of that boi?" "Yes sir. " "finish your beer. I wanna see what you're made of." "Yes sir." While jeff was drinking, he felt Max's hands on his chest, manhandling his nipples. "Hmmm. These haven't been worked. You have them pierced boi?" "No sir." He almost ripped open two more buttons on jeff's shirt. "NO HAIR! You shave before you came here." "No Sir. I just...." "You just nuthin. If we go forward, I get the pleasure of shaving you. Your pubes shaved? Your pits?" "Neither Sir." "DAMN. Then we got a place to start. " He took the beer from jeff, and finished it in one swallow. "Ok. Now, let's learn about what neckties are good for. TURN AROUND." "He's gonna tie me up with my necktie. MY 100.00 NECKTIE... " Jeff thought. His cock began to grow. Max tied a VERY tight knot. Then he spun jeff around. "OK. Let's get back to those tits." He began squeezing them hard, and jeff moaned, after an OWWWW" "Don't like pain, do you boi?" "No sir." Then he almost blacked out when Max squeezed his balls. "TOO GODDAMN BAD. " Now, here you are, a bound boi with a potential DOM . Assume it's an audition. Whaddya do to convince me I should take you home with me?" "Uh, suck you Sir." Max smiled again. "DAMN I could swear I trained you myself. " He paused. "It wouldn't be the first time I got blown in public, but let's give you some dignity tonight. Let's see how you kiss." Max's idea of kissing was much rougher than jeff was used to. The combination of Max's scruff, his aggression, the ropes , and jeff's hard cock, were overwhelming him. He put up no resistance as Max shoved a fat tongue down his throat and kept it there. jeff felt like he was going to choke, but he pulled out his will power: the will power that he had used before to power through mile 25 and 26. "NICE. You didn't even try to pull away. He looked at jeff who instinctively lowered his gaze to the floor. "How'd you get here jeffrey?" "I drove Sir." "SHIT. Ok, the neighborhood's too rough to leave your car here, so I'm gonna untie you so you can drive your rig. You follow me. GOT IT?" "Yes sir." Max didn't untie him until they got outside of the bar. When they were there, and they had walked to Max's car, jeff realized: he could get into his car, drive away, and never see Max again. "Go get into your car. When you drive past here, I'll see you and then we'll get going." And in five minutes, jeff honked his horn briefly, to let Max know he was behind him. It was the last time he'd EVER be behind Max again.
jeff tossed off his jacket when he got in his car, and he realized he was sweating: hard. Part of it was the bar, but the rest was.... he was doing this. Max was taking him home, at least for one night. He buttoned one button on his shirt to try to keep from getting too cold. Max drove smoothly, and he gave really clear signals for jeff to follow him. In 20 minutes, they were outside of Max's building. "Yup, this is mine. Not much, but it suffices." "Sir... the whole building is yours." Max smiled. "Ha ha hah Just the first and second floor. Get those hands behind you . Wait. Better yet. Instead of the necktie, jeff felt handcuffs go around his wrists. Then he felt the necktie being pushed between his lips, and Max's hand on his neck. "GET IN BOI. Let's see if you pass your audition." Max's place was immaculate. jeff kept a clean home, but not like this. All steel and chrome. Books on the shelves - the only books jeff had were about running . There seemed to be at least three rooms that went off from the living room. For now, though, they were staying in the living room. Max undid the necktie gag. "Well... Let's see how you do on your audition." He stood in front of jeff, who struggled to get to his knees, with his hands tied behind him. Max hadn't opened his jeans, so jeff had to try to work open the zipper with his teeth. The first time, the hook fell out of his mouth. It happened again. And the third time... he lost his balance and fell. He started to cry. "I'm sorry sir. I'm sorry. I'm trying as hard as I can, and I can't do it. Please just let me go home. I won't bother you again." He began to sob. Max stood there for a minute. Then he crouched down. He lifted up jeff so they were at eye level. "You wanna go home boi?" "No Sir. I want... I want to please you. But I'm not doing a good job of it." "NOW WAIT A MINUTE BOI. DID I SAY THAT?" "No Sir. You didn't. " "Who told you that you weren't doing a good job?" jeff paused and sniffled. "I guess I told myself Sir." "Damn right you did. Didn't come from me. He looked jeff straight in the eye. "Now, listen up boi. I wasn't lying when I said I get a lot of messages on that site. A FUCKING LOT OF THEM. And I was telling the truth when I told you why I said yes to yours. Now, don't prove me wrong. Take a deep breath, relax, and get that zipper in your mouth, cause I am getting hornier and fucking hornier." "ok sir. I'll try," jeff said in a weak voice. He concentrated and.. this time, he got the zipper down. He smiled when Max's angry cock popped out in front of him. "THERE YA GO BOI. GOOD WORK! Now, let me feel some more good work." jeff had some experience with giving blow jobs, but not as much as Max had in GETTING them. Max thought it was an adequate job, but his boi.. this boi. He was SO DAMN INTO IT. Yeah, he had ego- he could tell that - but he was trying to learn. Maybe for selfish reasons, but he was trying. He pulled jeff up to his feet. "Ok, boi. Good job. Now, you ever been fucked before?" "Yes sir." "How many times?" 3... maybe 4 Sir." Max laughed. "Well if the number is THAT low and you're not sure, must not have been memorable. This one is gonna be. Now, I don't give my bois much choice about this, so don't count on it. You want it face up or face down? " "please sir... face down." jeff remembered his dream. Max took him to one of the rooms off of the living room. There was a huge bed with what looked like a hand made quilt on it. Max tossed it off. When he did, jeff saw the cuffs at the corners. "Let's get your wrists into those boi. But first... get outta your clothes." "yes sir." When he did, Max saw that jeff was absolutely rigid. "Now, you look like this kid is ready to spit. Is he?" "I'm close sir." "Well, we can't have any of that until I'm finished. Dripping is ok. Shooting is not. Keep that in mind. GET ON YOUR BELLY BOY" jeff felt the cuffs go around his wrists. Then he felt Max pushing his ass cheeks apart. "OH DAMN YEAH. Look at that sweet ass." jeff felt the wad of spit hit it, and then the thumb pushing the spit into him. Max did it again, and jeff moaned as he felt the finger. "Yeah, you're a pretty boi, jeffrey. A REAL pretty boi" He ran a finger across the back of jeff's knee, and jeff jumped. "Ha ha. You may regret I know that. Save yourself some trouble. You ticklish boi?" "Uh. Yes sir. I'm very ticklish." "Well, we may have to explore that. For now though, we're gonna explore something else. " jeff felt Max's cockhead at his ass, and he felt it slide in, easily. He didn't understand it. He had been so nervous all day, and Max was taking him easily. "OH YEAH DAMN. ALMOST LIKE VIRGIN STRAIGHT BOI ASS. MMMMM." jeff bit his lip as Max drove in. He whispered to jeff. "you like that boi? You like the feel of my cock?" "yes sir." jeff moaned. "OOOOOOOOOOOOOH. yes sir. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH Fuck me. fuck me please Sir Max." "Sir Max " DID fuck him. He fucked him hard. The pounding jeff's ass took, was like none he had ever had. Max knew what he was doing: he was a pro. He whispered about how pretty jeff was, how he was like a little doll baby, how he was gonna make the perfect boi, and then he got silent and his cock pumped faster and faster. He YOWLED and jeff felt the jizz going up in him. That was the first time THAT happened. His other tops had all pulled out. Not Max. It was hot, acidic, and it felt.... goood. He fell on top of jeff and kissed his ear, whispering "you're a great fuck boi. A REAL great fuck." "Thank you Sir. " "I'm gonna give you a chance to shoot. You gonna cum for me? " "May I sir? May I empty my cock? " "Sure can. I wanna watch." Max untied jeff so he could get into a position comfortable for jerking. Once he was, he began to stroke his cock. He whispered. "GOD SIR. No one ever came in me before. It felt so good. OH.. And you were so hard, and so... so fucking BIG. DAMN. OH, I want you again Sir. Please. Can you fuck me again. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE..." Each one got higher, and then, the cum shot out of jeff. He heard Max clap. "GOOD BOI. That was a really, REALLY entertaining show. " He began rubbing jeff's cum into his skin. "Now, there ain't no question but you're staying tonight. There IS one question: do I need to tie you up before we go to bed, or not?" "It's up to you Sir." Max smiled. "Then I'm gonna leave you untied. I don't think you're gonna try to leave. And just know. Sometimes I get horny in the middle of the night. I expect you to respond." "yes sir. A boy should." jeff slept better than he had in a long, LONG time.