Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
When we got back to Kieran’s condo, he commanded me to take off my clothes. He pulled the plug out of me and my ass felt…almost too empty, which was strange.
“Come,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. I walked over to him as he fit the metal, fairly-open cage around my dick. I obviously wouldn’t be able to get fully hard while I was wearing it, which made discomfort tease my spine.
“I won’t be able to have an orgasm,” I stated the obvious.
“No. Not if I don’t want you to. Remember, your orgasms are mine, unless I say otherwise. But if you have to wear it for an extended amount of time, I’ll milk you. You’ll leak or come at times but it will be a different feeling than a regular orgasm.”
A tremble rocked through me and I couldn’t tell exactly what it meant. No, that wasn’t true. I knew what it was…it was excitement…a feeling of being possessed. Me being Kieran’s.
“I think Daddy’s boy likes it.” He brushed his fingers over my balls. My cock strained in the cage, obviously trying to get hard.
“Yes, Sir.” I liked it too much.
“Good boy.” Kieran slapped my ass. “Why don’t you go cook dinner for us? I’m going to get some work done in my office.”
“What would you like?” I asked. The thought of cooking dinner wearing my cock cage made goose bumps spread across my skin. God, I was perverted. Strange. Dirty.
“How about baked chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and zucchini.”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
Kieran went to the room across from his bedroom as I went down the hall. His unit had three bedrooms where mine only had two. I wondered what he had in the third room, if it was for guests or where he’d make me sleep if I was bad. That thought made me tremble uneasily as I remembered the cabin…as thoughts from my past came swarming in.
I shook my head, not wanting to go there right now. I had a job to do, and I wanted to make Kieran proud.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kieran stayed in the room the entire time it took for me to make dinner. When I was finished cooking, I made plates for each of us, set them on the table and looked down at what I’d done for him.
For us.
A surge of pride rushed through me. Logically, I felt as if it was silly to be proud of something like this. I’d accomplished so many things in my life to take pride in—cooking dinner shouldn’t be one of them—but it was the fact that I had cooked for him. That he gave me a job to do and I’d accomplished it. To make him happy, somehow made me happy as well.
I didn’t understand it at all. I wondered if all boys, or submissives, felt this way. I had no knowledge to judge my feelings against, no sources to talk to other than Kieran, but I didn’t know how much of being submissive he understood. He was on the opposite end of the spectrum.
Before our dinner got cold, I went to get Kieran. The door was only open a crack. I knocked because I wasn’t sure if I should just walk in.
“Is dinner done?” he asked, his voice making me tremble.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy. I’ll be right there.”
My pulse sped up and a smile stretched across my face at his praise. It was amazing how nice it felt to be Kieran’s good boy.
I walked back to the kitchen, the pride I’d felt moments before while staring at my work swelled and became more powerful after Kieran’s words. I heard his footsteps behind me, so I waited for him before I sat down.
“This looks wonderful, boy.” He patted my ass gently. “Take the apron off and sit, please. I’ll get us some wine.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied. I removed the apron, hung it back on its hook, before I sat at the table. Kieran opened a bottle of red wine, pouring each of us a glass, handing me mine and then sitting down.
He cut a bite of his chicken and I waited expectantly, hoping he thought it tasted as good as he seemed to think it looked. He popped it into his mouth, chewed, then looked up, giving me a wink. “Perfect. You did well. Eat and enjoy it.”
I bit my cheeks so I didn’t smile. Why did such a simple praise mean so much to me? Why did it make me feel like I was invincible? “Thank you, Daddy.”
He dipped a second bite in his mashed potatoes before he asked, “How long have you been out?”
“Two years,” I replied. Not that I had people to come out to, but I had finally been honest with myself, and actively seeking men, for two years.
“Have you ever topped with a man?”