Steve had lived as Vic's sub for six months before he decided he didn't want to be a sub anymore. He wanted to go back to being versatile, and leaning toward topping: the way he was the night he had met Vic. To say that Vic didn't take kindly to Steve's announcement would be to put it mildly. "FUCK NO BITCH!" was probably the nicest thing he yelled at Steve that night, before he threw him on the bed, face up, and fucked him, HARD. "YOU SURRENDERED. YOU SCREAMED... YOU FUCKING SCREAMED 'I SUBMIT'. AND DAMN IT, BITCH, YOU ARE MY FUCKING SUB." A fuck from Vic was always a hard one, and the one he threw into Steve that night was no exception, except that, unlike most of the other times Vic took his ass, Steve got no lube, and no foreplay: Vic didn't touch Steve's nips, he didn't lick his ears, and he didn't smile and tease Steve with his cockhead or by bouncing Steve's balls in his hands. No, Sir. He RAMMED the cock he knew how to use so well, deep into Steve. "DON'T THINK FOR A MINUTE YOU'RE GONNA GET TO CUM EITHER YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH!" Vic had yelled that just before he shot the first wad into Steve. Actually, Steve didn't think he was going to get to cum: it was a weekday, and Vic kept him caged, Monday through Friday. On Saturday, he milked and edged Steve and on Sunday, he let Steve jerk off himself. "I'M TALKING ABOUT THIS WEEKEND YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKER!" Vic yelled. More lashes of cum went up Steve's ass, and he could feel his cock getting harder. And harder. There was a "power" Vic had over him that he just couldn't explain. He had felt it the first time they met, before Vic had put a finger on him. Yes, Vic had discovered one hot spot on Steve's body after another, but even without playing any of them, Steve always just gulped and said "Yes SIR" when Vic told him what to do.
Why did he want out? There was no one in particular that had caught his eye, but he had the "yen" to be on top again. That wasn't going to happen with Vic. And Steve had asked if he could have a night out, maybe take someone back to his old place (he had moved in with Vic, but kept his original apartment), and just get off some steam. Vic's response had been to do the ONE thing Steve hated: he hogtied Steve and then went at his feet, tickling him relentlessly. Now, Steve was NOT ticklish.... except for his feet. Vic had learned that during one of their sessions when he had Steve in Steve's favorite position: spread eagled on a surface, face up, ankles and wrist tied. Vic had just finished Steve's weekly shaving (chest, pits and pubes), and he was about to begin edging his sub when he smiled.
"Know what? I don't know if your feet are ticklish. Are they?" Steve gulped. Not telling Vic the truth was not a good idea, and he knew that Vic was gonna tickle them anyway, so he whined "They are Sir. Please don't tickle them. I hate that." Steve saw the look of conquest pass over Vic's face. "It's a good thing you told me, bitch. That means... I'll only work them for ten minutes instead of twenty. " Vic kept the nails on his index fingers slightly longer than the others, and he began a slow, VERY slow run up and down the soles of Steve's feet. Steve tried not to give his Master the satisfaction of laughing, but his breathing got harder, raspberry noises started coming out of his mouth and then... he just burst out in laughing. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. AAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. " He knew better than to plead for mercy, or to ask Vic to stop. Doing something like that would probably increase the time of his torture. "I told ya ten minutes and I meant it. Not a minute less... and not a minute more." Vic pulled his hands away and Steve, who had closed his eyes for most of what had just happened, opened them and saw the pool of pre cum around his dick. "Looks like someone enjoyed that nearly as much as I did. Now, I'm gonna enjoy myself more." Vic untied Steve's ankles, bent his knees, and shoved his thick cock into Steve, the way he did just about every night and sometimes, like that Saturday 2-3 times. Vic had found "G rings" as he called them in Steve's ass, and he played them as he played Steve's nipples, moving one of those long nails right underneath Steve's left tit, slowly moving it back and forth. Another one of Steve's "spots." "What's my sub want?" "Cock Sir. THICK COCK. I want your cock. Please fuck me Sir. PLEASE...." Vic laughed. "I only fuck subs. You a sub, boy?" "Yes Sir." "Who's sub are you?" "Yours Sir. ONLY YOURS" "DAMN RIGHT. Don't you forget it." The "magic cock" as Steve called it entered his ass, and the plowing he got made him forget the foot tickling he had just received. He forgot that now Vic had another way to keep him in line. He forgot all of that as each of the nerve endings in his butt ignited. "OH SIR. You're SO GOOD . SO GOOD." Vic's fingers moved to a twisting motion on Steve's nipples. The only truly hot spot he wasn't working was Steve's earlobe, but it was.... enough. They came, just about simultaneously. As always, Steve thanked his Master. "THANK YOU SIR THANK YOU. OH GOD. I'M SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOUR COCK." Steve meant it. He meant it for the six months he served Vic. He had gone into that relationship willingly. From the start. From the night they met at the bar that was a "soft leather" bar as people called it. You didn't see heavy duty leather outfits, and you rarely saw any kind of SM, but you did see bondage. Often. And costumes. Steve was there that night, looking for a bottom to fuck. He had worn one of his favorite "top man" costumes: a sheriff's outfit: the short sleeve khaki shirt that hugged his muscular chest and showed off his arms, the tight pants, the gun belt (without a gun). His dark good looks gave him the air of a television actor playing some Western figure. He didn't notice Vic when he came in, but after a while, Vic was hard to miss. He was taller than average, with a shaved head and a small goatee. He had a four pack that looked like it was on its way to a six pack, and he had the look of a hungry wolf. Steve was mesmerized. He turned to one of his friends. "Who's that guy? I've never seen him in here." His friend snickered. "Master Vic? You've never seen him. Odd. You can't miss him." "I KNOW. He's... distinctive." His friend laughed again. "He does give off an air. And it's an honest one. Nothing versatile about that man. He tops. He fucks. The other guy does what he's told. No arguing. Try to argue, he'll toss you out." Steve laughed. "Doesn't sound too appealing to me," and his friend laughed again. "That's because he's never fucked you. Trust me, Steve. However much of a stud you think you are... he's more of one. EVERYONE wants a second night and it's a rare guy who gets one." Steve began to get intrigued. At that point in his life, he had been topping more than bottoming because he hadn't found many tops who could satisfy him. This Master Vic guy. He was just..." "Steve. His crooking his finger at you." Indeed he was. Steve saw the "come here" sign he was getting from Master Vic. Afterward, he would swear he didn't even know he was doing it, but he walked across the bar and stood in front of Vic. He looked up. Steve looked up to a lot of people: he was 5'7" and Vic was 6'1". "Hi. I'm Steve." Steve put out his hand. Vic stared at him. "Where do a bottom's hands go when a TOP summons him?" The sound of Vic's voice was like a whip across his ass, and Steve felt himself getting hard in Vic's presence for the first of what would be many times. "Behind his back?" Vic stared at him and then replied curtly. "Is that your whole answer?" Steve didn't understand the question at first, but then replied "Behind his back, SIR?" "Well, why aren't yours there?" "Sorry Sir," Steve was hypnotized. Vic had his fingers on Steve's nipples before he asked "These sensitive?" It had been a while since someone had played with Steve's chest, and he began to moan right away. "OOOOOOOH. YES . YES SIR. They are." "Heh heh. I bet they're more sensitive when your shirt is off." "Yes sir." "With your wrists tied behind you." "Yes sir" "Before your legs go in the air and you get FUCKED the way you need to be fucked." Steve felt his mouth go dry. He tried desperately to get some saliva working so he could answer. He rasped. "Yes. Yes Sir." Vic chuckled. "My name is Vic. You'll call me Sir, or Master Vic tonight, Steve. You have a jacket or anything you need to get?" "No... No Sir." "GOOD. I've never bagged a sheriff. First time for everything I guess. Let's go." "You're gonna be so sore tomorrow," Steve's friend whispered as they walked by. "Your friend is right, Steve. SO FUCKING SORE." Vic lived in a loft. He was a freelance photographer, with a specialty in erotic art. Part of his loft was clearly his "dark room" or, as he called it "My professional dark room." Another third was his regular living area, and the final part was what he called his "play dark room."
That's where he lashed Steve to the St Andrew cross that night, right before he opened Steve's shirt, button by button, slowly. He used one hand. He had put a calfskin glove on the other one and moved it back and forth over Steve's crotch. "I'm... I'm usually the TOP Sir," Steve moaned. "Who gives a shit. Tonight's not the usual. Tonight, you're gonna get the hardest fuck you have ever had in your life." Steve started to gulp again, but then he felt the goatee brush against his right nipple, and Vic's mouth close on it. "HOLY SHIT. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD...." Steve felt a mixture of pleasure and pain as Vic skillfully nibbled and scruffed his tit. (His tits would be nearly as sore as his ass the next day). Moaning, with eyes closed, Steve heard his zipper getting opened. He felt the gloved hand begin stroking him. "How long can you hold out stud? " "I... Not long Sir." "Not a good answer boy." "Boy." How the hell did he know? One of the keys to turning Steve into a bottom, was that word. He moaned. "S..... sorry Sir. As long as you want." "Better. You don't cum before I do. Or you don't come back." "Come back? " Steve was thinking. He hadn't gotten that far. "I could take your ass behind this cross but... it'll be more fun riding you like the horse you are." Steve felt the ropes come off his wrists. "Get your clothes off and get on all fours. Right next to the cross." "Yes sir." This evening was NOT going the way Steve thought it would, and...he fumbled, and tripped. Vic grabbed his arm and he pulled him up to his feet. The grip on Steve's forearm let him know: this Master Vic was stronger than he was. "Open your mouth boy." Steve complied, and felt Vic's long, muscular tongue start probing him. Steve tried to pull himself closer to Vic: he couldn't remember a kiss like this before, but Vic kept him at a distance. "Now on all fours, bitch boy. " "YES SIR" Naked, Steve moved faster. He felt the glove caress his cheeks. "SUCH a fine ass. The wrapper didn't deceive." He shoved a finger into Steve's ass, the way his doctor did at a prostate exam. Only Master Vic's motion was more corkscrew like and felt better. Steve pushed back. "Heh heh EASY boy. Save some of that for... This..." Vic moved in front of Steve and dropped his pants. Cut, about 8.5 inches, and thick. Steve had taken longer, and he had taken thicker, but never the combination presented to him. "You want it?" "Yes SIr. Badly." "Heh heh. Not that you have a choice about it." "I know Sir. Fuck me please Sir. Please fuck your boy." He saw a wisp of a smile pass over Vic's face before he went behind Steve, pushed his cheeks apart, and began sliding his now lubricated cock up Steve's ass. Steve could only moan. NOW he understood what the fuss was about. The way Vic pulsed with his glutes, and varied the speed of his thrusts, was pushing Steve closer and closer to climax. He couldn't touch himself: his hands were bracing him on the floor. He had had contactless orgasms before, but... he remembered what Vic had said. "It won't be long boy," he heard the rumble of Vic's raspy voice as his thrusts got faster and faster. Then..... Steve heard a strangled yell, and felt hot cum shooting into his ass. He lost count after the seventh one. Vic was still in him when he asked "When was the last time you got fucked, boy?" "I.... I don't know. Six months maybe Sir?" "Gonna be a LOT less than six months till you get fucked again. Maybe six hours, ha ha." Vic looked at this handsome man. "He's got puppy eyes" he thought to himself. " A leash of some kind will do him good." "You want release boy?" "Yes Sir. But only if you agree to it." "Get on your back. Shoot for me." "Yes sir." Steve's nerves began to show. He had been nervous since Vic had curled his fingers, and it was getting worse. His frustration was showing. "Let Master Vic help." Vic reached down and squeezed Steve's balls like they were tangerines, and Steve's cock responded, giving up juice just like a tangerine would. As he finished, Steve saw Vic's mischievous smile. "I'm gonna see you again. And it's gonna be tomorrow. You remember the address?" "N....No Sir. I didn't see it. " "Ok, I'm gonna give you my card. It's got my number on it too. You put that number in your cell and you call me so that I have yours." The grin again. "So I can call you when I want you. You can go and clean yourself up in the bathroom over there. I'll call you a car if you like." "T... Thank you Sir. I live a ways away so...." "Get cleaned up. I'll call one now."
Steve felt the buzz of his phone while the driver took him back to his place. It was from Vic. Very direct. "Tomorrow, 7pm. Bring a change of clothes and don't be late." Steve hesitated before responding "Yes sir." He didn't know if he should or shouldn't. He had a 50/50 chance of being right. The next morning, he packed an overnight bag. He wondered if he should touch up his sideburns. At 38, Steve was beginning to go gray, and he would administer one of those "home kits" occasionally. He didn't need a full on dye job, only the side burns. He took a deep breath and applied the dye. He left it on for the required amount of time, before he finished his morning routine and headed off to work. 7pm. That meant he'd have to go to the gym at lunch. Or steal an hour. It would be okay. He'd ask Wyatt to cover for him. He and Wyatt took care of routing for a truck company. They laughed about how two gay men were responsible for getting all those butch truckdrivers around the country. Wyatt noticed, right away, that Steve was fidgety in his chair, as if he couldn't get comfortable. He made a joke. "Geez, Steve. You're acting like you had 9 inches in you all night." When Steve blushed, Wyatt grinned. "Ok, Stud. Mr. TOP stud... Start talking. This is gonna be good." Blushing all the while, Steve told him the whole story. "You know, I've heard about this guy. Master Vic. Quite the photographer." "Really? I've never seen his work." "Yeah, you have. You just wouldn't know it if you didn't know to look for his brand. Know that ad of the cowboy with the snap shirt, on his back, that woman standing over him and saying.... oh, what does she say? "No means No." "THAT'S HIM?" "Eeeeyup. He did it as a public service announcement. You'll see his stuff in magazines all over. " "What's his brand?" Wyatt smiled. "Forewarned is forearmed. Look in the lower left hand corner. It's a tiny tiny tiny set of handcuffs." Steve couldn't remember the last time he had been handcuffed. "He cuff you last night?" Again, Steve blushed. "No, but he did tie me up." "Word is... he's VERY good at that." "He is." "Oh. Okay then. Well, congratulations. You seeing him tonight?" "Uh, yeah. 7pm. Could I ask you to...." "Cover for you while you get pumped? Sure thing. Got to look good for one of the premiere DOMS in the city." Steve began to think. "THAT'S RIGHT. He was treating me as a ... sub. Not just a bottom. GEEZ I was so.... taken with the scene that...." Away from the office and with his mind free to roam, Steve began to wonder what they were going to do on this "date." Should he make clear to Vic - no to MASTER Vic - that he was good with bottoming but not being a sub? He couldn't decide. He got to Master Vic's place 5 minutes early. He rang the bell, and Vic made him wait until Steve heard a church chime 7 times. Then he buzzed Steve in. When he got to Vic's door, he knocked. "It's open. Get in here." Steve walked in and he saw Vic, sitting in a recliner in the middle of the apartment area, wearing chaps and a vest. The chaps were down and his cock was out. "Your first job when you come in here, boy, is to make sure my cock is taken care of. If it's not, you get those lips around it. Understand?" "Yes sir." "Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?" "Sorry Sir." Vic's legs were separated, and Steve got on his knees. He put his lips around the cock that had fucked him the night before, and got to work. It had been a while since he had done the sucking, but it was like riding a bike. Steve hadn't forgotten how, and he could hear Vic's breathing change, and he even heard a few moaned words like "That's fucking righteous" or "GEEZ good." Steve felt Vic's hands move to his ears and push him forward. Vic felt the slight stickiness from the dye job. "OK," he thought to himself. "We'll get that clearned up. Real soon." When his hips began to buck, Vic pulled Steve's mouth off his cock. "Real good job, boy, but you're not gonna drain me. I got another place I'm gonna shoot tonight. For now, you get down to your shorts, and on the bed. REAL FAST." "Yes sir." Steve had worn a polo shirt and khakis to work, so it was easy to slip out of them. Once he was on the bed, Vic tied his wrists down. Steve was face up and he saw Vic put the gloves on. He began stroking Steve's chest. It felt good. "You're a little bit like a bear, boy. Short enough to be a cub, but too old. And that's ok. I like mutton better than lamb, beef better than veal." Before Steve could answer, Vic smiled. "And I like my bottoms smooth." He got up and went over to a side table, coming back with a straight edge and creme. "Time for a shave." Vic laughed when he saw the look go over Steve's face. "HEY. WAIT. NO. I didn't say..." "And I didn't ask. I said I wanted you smooth and, you're gonna have to learn, what I say goes." Steve pulled at the restraints some more, and thought about screaming. Instead, he just begged. "PLEASE SIR. DON'T TAKE MY HAIR. PLEASE..." His answer was a squirt of the creme and Vic's hand spreading it all over his chest. He didn't say a word other than to warn Steve that if he squirmed too much, he'd risk getting cut. As Vic moved clots of the creme away, Steve could see his hairs in it. When Vic was done, he smiled. "Look at that. Smooth as the boy you are. Now the pits. "HEY ... NO" "You want me to do your pubes first, boy? Cause I can." "MY PUBES. NO. WAIT. FUCK. " A gloved hand, smelling slightly like the creme, went over Steve's mouth before he could scream. "First of all, this loft covers the whole floor. The folks who live downstairs are away. Ain't likely anyone's gonna hear you. Second of all, you've already pissed me off once tonight. Don't piss me off a second time. Understand?" Whimpering, Steve shook his head yes. "Sir, just one question. How did I piss you off?" Vic was cleaning off the straight edge before going to Steve's pits. "You dyed your hair. I didn't say you could." "I... I didn't think I needed permission Sir." Vic grinned as he spread creme over Steve's right pit. "If you're gonna be with me, anything about your appearance needs my approval. My boy is a reflection of me. ." He paused. "Unless you'd like me to shave your head, too. "NO SIR. PLEASE NO. I'm sorry. I thought you'd like it better if I dyed the sideburns." "I don't. Don't do it again." "No Sir. Sorry Sir." Steve began to think: he was planning to tell Vic he didn't want to be his sub. Why was he acting like one. "I guess your pits aren't ticklish boy. You haven't moved a bit." "They're not Sir. I'm really not ticklish." "Too bad. Guess I'll just have to explore some other areas. Now, about those pubes. You better keep REALLY still. I've done this before, but you know, even an expert makes a mistake." "Please don't let him slip. Please don't let him slip." Steve felt the sharp edge pass over his private parts. When he was done, Vic smiled. "THERE WE GO. Smooth as a young boy. On a nice, studly man. A studly man with an ass waiting to get fucked. " Steve hadn't fully recovered from the fucking the night before but he realized... he had no say in this, as Master Vic pushed his legs in the air, and began snaking his dick into his ass. Steve winced and Vic noticed. "You'll get used to it. You bottom boys always do." Vic rested Steve's ankles on his shoulders and then reached up and took Steve's nipples and started twisting right away. When Steve began to moan, he asked. "You a Top or a Bottom, boy?" Steve hesitated for a minute. When he answered "I'm a bottom Sir," Vic knew they were on the path he had in mind. "Who's bottom?" He heard Steve gulp. "Yours, Sir." Cum began flowing out of Vic and Steve's ass got lubricated for the second night in a row. His hips began to buck. "Sir I.... I... AAAAAAAAAGGGGGG" He had tried SO hard, but then.... out it came. "I'm sorry Sir, I'm sorry. It was.. It was an accident Sir.." "Hmm. Well there are ways to prevent that kind of accident from happening you know, Steve. Next time it happens, you go into chastity." "Next time I cum SIR?" "No, next time you cum without my permission. And that includes jerking off at work." He saw the look on Steve's face. "I control that from now on too." Steve was about to protest, but he felt Vic's lips on his, and he opened his mouth to take the tongue that felt as long as a giraffe's.
Later that night, as they were getting ready for bed, Steve saw the handcuffs. "Hold out your wrists, boy. You need to start learning what it's like to be another man's boy." "Sir I..." "GET THEM OUT OR PACK UP AND GO HOME, FUCKER." "Yes sir. Sorry Sir." Steve held out his wrists and he felt a twinge of lust as the clink indicated they were locked. "At least for now, you're gonna wear them every night. Cause you're gonna be sleeping here every night. Tomorrow, we stop by your place and get a week's worth of stuff. Gonna be unfamiliar to you at first, but you'll get used to it.... BOTTOM"