Dominance - Part 4

All characters are consenting adults (18+) 

That night I lay awake, tossing and turning, checking my phone, and thinking about what had happened. It had felt like something from a movie, but I had yet to work out whether that was a romantic one or a horror one. For the tenth time, I poured over everything I knew about Paul.

He was older than me. That much was very clear. In fact, he was probably the same age as my own father, if not a little older than that! Perhaps I would have felt a little weird about it, if the guy wasn’t incredibly fucking fit, but he was, so I didn’t.

He was weird. I had no other words to describe it, but there was something about the guy that made me uneasy. Maybe it was his curt, straight-to-the-point attitude, or maybe it was the fact that I’d already seen his dick twice, and I hardly even knew the guy.

He was rich. Or, at least, I had reason to believe he was rich. The internet searches, the guy in the gym, the random apartment block that he appeared to own. Everything pointed to extraordinary wealth, but he hadn’t mentioned a single thing about it.

He was a he. That one was really sticking in my gut. How could I even be having this conversation with myself? How was I genuinely considering something so… Strange, with an actual man?! That in itself was disturbing, but the fact that some deep part of my body was rather excited by the idea, was something that I had yet to accept.

By the time the birds began to chirp the next morning, I wasn’t even sure that I’d slept. My eyes were tired and dry, and my head felt like it had been thumped, but I dragged myself to the shower, dressed for college, and was out the door by eight.

The day was dominated by Paul. My mind constantly wandered as I sat through boring lectures wondering what it really was that he wanted. He said he wanted me, but what about me did he want? Was this a purely sexual agreement? Was I really going to engage in such behaviour with him? Or was it something else? Something deeper?

Prior to leaving the pizza place, Paul told me to return to the apartment after college today. “I’ll know your decision if you show up” he had said, before paying double what the pizza cost, and leaving without another word.

Why was he like that? Why was he so mysterious, yet so blunt? How was something like that even possible?! The same guy who scolded me for saying fuck, still hadn’t given me a straight answer about what exactly he wanted from me! The mental gymnastics were becoming exhausting, but by the end of the day, I knew one thing: I had to find out what this was all about.

The apartment was still in ruins when I arrived. It had only been a day, so I wasn’t expecting much more, and as I took the stairs to the third floor once again, I wondered how Paul ever planned on finishing it all by himself.

Upstairs, he had moved onto a different wall, and didn’t turn around when I stood behind him. I cleared my throat to let him know that I’d arrived, but he continued to ignore me.

“Sup” I eventually said.

Nothing.

I rolled my eyes. Did he get off on treating me like I didn’t even exist?

“Paul”.

Nothing.

“Paul!”.

He lowered his head for a moment before balancing the brush on top of the paint can. He wiped his hands on his t-shirt again, and slowly turned around.

“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” He asked, seriously.

“You told me to come here” I answered sharply. Whoever this guy thought he was, I was too tired for his bullshit today.

“No” he said, walking toward me with that steely gaze. “I asked you to come here. You’ve come by your own choice, and you’ll act accordingly”.

“Fine” I sighed, and dropped onto a wooden chair. “Whatever”.

“Stand” he said, and I looked up at him, confused.

“You just said–”

“Stand!”

I raised my arms and shook my head, but got back to my feet. Paul eyeballed me, and I felt the sheer difference in the dynamic between us. He was a tall, powerful, muscular man, and I was an eighteen year old college kid.

“Sit” he said, and my jaw dropped.

“You just told me to–”

“Sit!”

The guy was fucking with me. He had to be fucking with me. I glared back at him. My mind racing with nasty words that I strongly considered spitting at him, but what was the point? It was his place, after all.

I didn’t say a word as I sat back down, and thankfully, Paul returned to work.

Admittedly, I was feeling sorry for myself. I wondered how my friends and family would feel if they knew that I was letting some rich big shot treat me like crap, for no particular reason. I still hadn’t worked out how I felt about it, but what was confusing me the most, was that had anybody else spoken to me the way Paul just did, I would have walked out the front door and never returned. Yet, there I was, sitting like a good boy, watching.

A few moments later, Paul walked over to an old school CD player. It looked like something that I’d find in my dad’s old junk in the attic, and I couldn’t work out why a guy as rich as Paul still owned something so old. He twisted some prehistoric dials, and a moment later, opera music started playing.

“You’re kidding me” I groaned to myself, as Paul returned to the paint.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, and my cheeks burned. I hadn’t meant for him to hear me.

“It’s uh… It’s fine” I said.

“Don’t lie to me, boy”.

Boy?

I didn’t say anything. Who did he think he was calling boy? I stared angrily at him, though his back was still turned, but suddenly he spun around, and I lowered my head quickly, and felt like an idiot.

“I don’t expect you to appreciate fine art” he said, smugly. “You’re young, foolish, ignorant”.

“I’m not ignorant” I growled. “And I’m not foolish”.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched me. “You’re young, foolish and ignorant” he repeated, “only somebody who is young, foolish and ignorant would deny that they are young, foolish–”

‘I’m not!” I snapped, and his lip curled to a devious smile.

“I like you, Cole” he said, which caught me off-guard. “You have balls”.

I was becoming far too confused to continue the conversation. Maybe Paul was purposely playing with my head, but I was becoming sick and tired of it.

“What is this?” I asked, “all of this? The apartment, the pizza, the gym? Why are you doing all of this?”

Paul walked over to the window, and beckoned me over with his finger. Part of me considered just walking out and going home, but I was still curious. I got up and walked over to him, and his strong hand rested on the back of my shoulder.

“Do you see that man out there?” He asked, pointing to a stressed out looking businessman in a suit down below. He was on the phone, waving his hand around as he barked at somebody on the other end.

“Yeah”.

“What do you see?” He asked, and I squinted.

“A man?”

“How do you feel about him?”

“What?”

“When you look at him, how does he make you feel?”

“He doesn’t make me feel anything” I said, honestly. He was just some random guy, after all.

Paul moved his hand, and my body began to stiffen up as he trailed it down my spine. My breathing quickened, and I felt sweat begin to form under my arms. Was this it? Was this the moment that I had been both dreading and excited for? I gasped when I felt my pants being ripped to my ankles.

“Arms up” he whispered in my ear, as the cool breeze whipped around my naked lower half. I trembled gently, but we had already come this far, so I raised my arms and felt the soft material of my t-shirt being pulled over my head.

“Soon” he said, breathing his warm breath on the back of my neck. “You’ll see all men as superior”.

My eyes closed, and a shiver of excitement spiralled through my naked body. I had no idea what was happening to me, but every word that Paul spoke, felt like an orgasm.

“Me” he continued, his chin now brushing across my shoulder blade. “Him. Your college professors. Your friends. You will be submissive to every man you know. But know this, boy” he snarled, and I hissed through my teeth as his strong hand clamped around my cock and balls. “You belong to me”.