Dominance - Part 5

All characters are consenting adults (18+) 

“Does that excite you, Cole?” He breathed, kneading my fleshy cock with his palm as I stared out the window. “Do you enjoy being touched by a man?”

I couldn’t breathe. Every inch of my body came alive with excitement as Paul stroked me. How could it be happening? I knew for certain that I wasn’t gay, and yet, I stood there, legs buckling, heart racing, and felt myself stiffen in his grasp.

“Answer me, boy” he snarled, smashing his hand against my ass. I winced again, but there was something about the pain that I couldn’t describe. Something nice.

“Y… Yes” I moaned, closing my eyes as he squeezed my shaft.

“Yes what?”

The throbbing ache in my ass felt even better now, as Paul jerked my cock. What had I become? How had he so easily flipped a switch in my brain? I looked down at my eager cock, watching as he ran his hand up and down its length. I shivered when his hand crashed against my ass again.

“Yes sir”.

“That’s right” he growled, his breath warming my ear once more. “Remember your place, boy”.

I knew it was coming. It had been a couple of days since I’d last had the time and energy to bust a load, and with everything going on, it was happening quicker than I would have liked.

I gasped as I felt the beautiful release of orgasm begin in my heavy balls. His touch was almost magical, and without thinking, I thrust my hips upwards, desperately trying to shoot my seed onto the window, until I felt a third sharp spank, and he dropped my cock.

“Orgasms are earned” Paul said, walking back to the wall. “Don’t bother pulling them back up” he added, without looking, as I reached for my pants.

I stood up, sweaty and breathless, with a throbbing erection that twitched pre-cum onto the floor with each heartbeat.

“I need to cum” I said, feeling utterly humiliated at the fact that I was almost begging the guy to let me. “I’ll get blue balls”.

“Sit” he demanded, in his usual stern voice. I looked over at the chair, and back down to my pants. “Waddle” he said, staring at me.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m joking? Waddle your ass over to the chair and sit”.

I could have said no. That was the part that was confusing me the most. Why wasn’t I just saying no? I was naked, horny and sexually frustrated, and had I wanted to, I could have easily pulled up my pants, gone home and jerked off, but there was something strangely exciting about what Paul was doing to me, so I shuffled forward, sliding my shoes as I waddled toward the chair, and sat my naked ass down.

“Take them off” he said, “everything, shoes, socks, everything”.

My cock remained stiff as I obeyed him, and when I sat there, naked, I couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. The horniness was wavering, and suddenly I realised that I was butt naked in front of a man more than twice my age.

“Paint” he said, pointing at a brush.

“Like this?”

“Like that”.

“What if somebody comes in?” I asked, eyeing the stairs that I’d walked up just half an hour ago.

“Then they’ll see a naked painter” he replied, and turned his attention back toward the wall.

Was it a game? Was Paul waiting for me to refuse him, so that he could spank me again? The idea did little for my stiff erection, but I decided to play along. Maybe the reward would be worth it.

Awkwardly, and with my cheeks blushing red for most of it, I spent the evening completely naked, painting a wall. After an hour, I became oddly comfortable with the fact that I was completely naked, and Paul wasn’t, and by the time we were finished, I hardly even noticed it.

“Same time tomorrow” Paul said, snapping the lid back onto the paint can.

I nodded, and waited for him to grab my cock again, but instead, he pulled on his jacket.

“Get dressed” he told me, watching me closely as I squinted at him.

“But… But I did what you told me to do” I said, feeling my heart drop. “I painted all of that, naked!”

“Yes” he said, “now get dressed”.

I felt cheated as I dragged my clothes back on. What the fuck was the point of being naked all night, if he was just going to tell me to get dressed again at the end?! Sure, it was borderline pathetic that I was so desperate for a man to touch me, but he said that orgasms were earned, and I was pretty damn sure that I’d earned it.

“Same time tomorrow” he repeated, as I walked down the stairs ahead of him.

“For what?” I growled, “so I can paint for you again?”

Paul ignored me as we stood outside on the dark street. It was colder now, and the road was empty.

“Goodnight, Cole” he said, and before I had a chance to bicker, Paul walked into the night, and I mumbled some choice words as I jumped on my bike and cycled home.

I spent most of the night trying to work out what had gone so wrong in my brain that I had become so infatuated with this guy. Was it because he was incredibly handsome? Was it because he was jacked? Was it because I knew he was rich? Or was it some sort of weird combination of all of those things?

I was too exhausted to jerk off, and too busy the next day to even think about it, but when the time came to return to Paul’s apartment, I had convinced myself that today would be the day.

“Strip” he said, the moment I stood behind him. Almost eagerly, I pulled off my clothes and stood naked. “Paint” he added, and although I had hoped for even a little teasing like yesterday, I sighed and got to work.

“Same time tomorrow” Paul said, when we’d finished another evening of painting. Me, naked. Him, clothed, and his stupid CD player playing opera!

“Is this all I’m gonna’ do?” I asked, angrily, as I got dressed again.

“Same time tomorrow”.

Another day went by. Then another after that, and by Friday, it had been five days of the same old naked painting.

Indeed, I had become so used to stripping off, that Paul didn’t even need to mention it anymore. I’d pull off my t-shirt before reaching the top of the stairs, and be naked before he even looked at me.

I hopped up the stairs as I removed my shoes, and stopped dead when I found Paul, equally as naked at the top. His huge cock hung flaccid between his muscular thighs, and he simply watched me with his arms folded.

“Sit” he said, pointing to the chair directly in front of him. I looked around, and realised that the painting had finally been finished, and a rush of excitement washed through me. Had I finally earned an orgasm?

I shuffled sheepishly toward him. This was the first time we’d both been naked together, and I felt painfully inferior as I sat down, inches away from him.

“Hold it” he said, and excitedly, I reached for my cock, until he clicked his fingers and I looked up at him. “Mine” he corrected, and I swallowed the lump in my throat, and released my excited rod.

I’d never touched another dick before, but I was eager to feel his girth. Slowly, I reached for it, and gently closed my fingers around the fat, fleshy shaft. It was softer than I had expected, but I could feel the bulging veins, even without him being hard.

“Explore it” he said, and I looked up at him again, as I held the weighty member in my hand. “I want you to know this cock more than you know your own one” he said calmly. “Every inch, every vein, every curve. This cock is more important than anything else when you’re here”.

I let out a short gasp. Even the way he spoke turned me on. I stared at his large dick, and wondered how intricate a cock could really be. It was big, of course, with a large pink helmet, a flared ridge beneath a long foreskin, and a river of veins throughout, but it was just a dick.

“Lift it up” he said, and I did. His balls were easily twice the size of mine, sagging down and filled with two large grapefruits. The flesh was darker, wrinkled and covered in hair.

“Smell it”.

I scrunched my nose as I stared at him.

“Smell it?” I grimaced, “dude, it’s a dick”.

Paul tilted my head further back until my neck ached. His grip was tight, but not painful. “Sir” he said, and I felt my cheeks burn again.

“It’s a dick, sir” I mumbled, and he nodded.

“The most important dick that you know”.

I was becoming too aroused to deny him. He released my head, and I looked back at his impressive organ, before leaning forward and awkwardly inhaling the warm, ripe stench of his junk.

I expected it to be rancid. I mean, surely all dicks smelled funky, but the aroma that wafted into my lungs was anything but rancid. It smelled like him. Him after an intense workout. Him after a night of painting. Him, him, him.

I sucked another breath of him into myself, and shivered with pleasure. What the fuck was it about this guy that was driving me so insane? One more after that, and then, without thinking, I opened my mouth and leaned forward, until Paul pushed me gently back onto the chair.

“Look at it” he said, as I panted. “Eyes on my cock, boy”.

I stared at it again, feeling rather stupid for trying to do something so weird, but Paul didn’t mention it. He simply stood there, allowing me to study every inch of his beautiful cock, and before I knew it, night had fallen.

“Same time tomorrow”.

“Wait! But what –”

“Same time tomorrow”.