A gay story: From Husband to Houseboy Ch. 06 My story and originally published elsewhere. All characters are of legal age/18+.
This story is about dominance, cuckolding, chastity, being a houseboy, and consensual inequality. If that’s not what you’re into, move on to another story.
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I believe Oliver — sorry, Master — had gone swimming in the ocean. I wasn’t sure, however, as I couldn’t see. I was ordered to keep looking at the wall, so I did, even when he was not keeping an eye on me as far as I knew. No matter how long he’d leave me here, I obeyed and did not once try to sneak a peak. Even though I was being punished, I felt like a good boy obeying orders.
He was still wet when he came back. He ordered me to get up and get him a towel, and then I got to towel him off. I chose the softest towel I could find and kneeling by his side; it felt like such a wonderful privilege to do such a basic task for him and, of course, to run the towel over every square inch of his beautiful, body, wet and glimmering in the late-afternoon sun. I was almost overwhelmed for a second. This was such a beautiful moment. It didn’t involve whips or restraints, or even any sex per se. Yet, I was performing one of the most basic tasks for him, something pretty much everyone would do for themselves. This was not just a fantasy; this was me being his complete servant.
As I was finishing and carefully drying his hair, he noticed some wetness in my eyes. He smiled and told me to put the towel down. He held me tight and kissed me. His tongue delved deep into my mouth and I just let him devour my mouth with his big, strong tongue. We made out, but I refrained from holding him, until he told me to feel his body: “I know you admire my body. Feel it.”
I did, and I especially love his strong back, shoulder, and arms. His strong grip over me made me weak. I love being held in what feels like this medium between a hug and a wrestling grip.
He took me to the bedroom and threw me down on the bed, face down. He gets on top of me and I feel his hard dick rub against my pussy. I shiver in anticipation — I want to be railed so bad! Instead, he eats it first. Giving it a few soft licks first, he was quickly fucking it with his tongue. With my dick locked, this feels like the closest I’ll come to direct erotic stimulation. The pleasure is almost overwhelming. I wonder whether the cage and the pent-up sexual energy is making me even more responsive to rimming? Maybe it’s just that I’m so damn horny all the time!
After a thorough tongue fuck of my tender, sensitive hole, he lays on top of me — I love feeling his weight on top. His dick is once again pushing against my hungry hole, but once again he doesn’t fuck me. He starts biting my neck, shoulders, and back instead. Hard! These bites are sure to leave marks, and the pain involuntarily drives me to try to push him off. His weight and the fact that he’s stronger than me, however, make me helpless. All I can do is endure it as he places bite mark after mark. I wonder whether some will draw blood, as I scream in pain for every bite.
Somehow not being restrained with anything but the weight of his body makes me feel even more vulnerable — he doesn’t even need a dungeon or restraints to do this to me.
As he pauses for a second, he says: “These are going to look so good on you as they’ll slowly wear off over the coming two weeks. I wanted to do this early, so they’d be faded by the time we leave.”
He turns me around to put some marks on my chest and nipples as well. I cannot help but try to pull away. Eventually, therefore, he does get some rope to tie me spread eagle and face up to the bed. My face is still in tears from the pain of the biting. He kisses me and tells me how proud he is of me for withstanding the biting so well, and then adds: “But, I know I have to tie you down for what’s coming next. There’s no way you wouldn’t pull away and try to stop me otherwise.”
I was confused and concerned. What was he about to do that was so bad that he knew he would need me tied up for it? I’ve let him do pretty much anything to me; why would I pull away from this? And, if it’s so bad, where is the torture implement? It soon became clear as he started to run his hands over my vulnerable, exposed body. It felt nice and tender, and slightly ticklish. That’s when it struck me: he knows how ticklish I am and he’s about to use my weakness against me! As the fear of what’s about to happen sinks in, I start to pull on the ropes — that surely is going to leave rope burn — and my body tenses. The increased tenseness of my body only makes me more vulnerable to his touch. Now that the fear and tenseness has set in, even the slightest touch is becoming torturous — every touch makes me squirm and pull.
I beg him for mercy. I’ve never begged him for mercy before; no matter how painful or degrading his treatment of me was. I didn’t want to beg but somehow I couldn’t help it. I was begging before I realized it, without really wanting to do so.
I howl and I scream. I pull on the ropes, trying to escape but knowing full-well that it’s impossible. Every touch is driving me crazy. Being whipped or flogged is nothing compared to this! When being whipped, there are pauses between each lash that allow you to breathe, collect your thoughts, and brace yourself for the next lash. This is unrelenting. I cannot even think — all that’s going through my mind is: “Please, the sensations are overwhelming make it stop!”
He knows how much I hate being tickled. Overwhelming is indeed the correct word — it is a sensation that completely takes over. It quickly becomes all you can register and all your mind can be occupied with. I hate it! Yet, when tied up and defenseless, I only realised as soon as it stopped, I loved it.
When he stopped, I was drenched in sweat and tears. I was exhausted and at my wit’s end. All I could say, as he laid next to me and held me, was: “That was amazing!”
“Next time I’ll get some feathers as well…”
After giving me some time to recover, I was ordered to get dinner started and the rest of the night went much like the night before: I made and served dinner, I cleaned the kitchen, and then he took me to the dungeon for another night of teasing, torture, bondage, and making sure he came and I didn’t. The major difference was that this night, he didn’t allow me to share the bed with him. Tonight was my first night sleeping in the dungeon, or rather in a cage to be more precise. Luckily, he chose a cage that had soft padding rather than metal bars at the bottom, but the cage was not big enough for me to stretch out. I just about could lay in it in fetal position. He also gave me a pillow but no blanket ‘we’re on a tropical island, I don’t think you’ll get too cold’.
He hooded me, so that I could not see anything, and told me to wait until he comes down tomorrow morning. He did point out that the lock had an emergency escape mechanism, so that I could escape if necessary but he would know if I did.
The cage was uncomfortable, but the snug hood somehow gave me comfort. Soon, the whole experience started to make me feel controlled and helpless. Although, I could escape if there was an emergency, I was clearly expected to just stay here, curled up and patiently wait for my Master. Uncomfortable and thinking about all that had happened in the last few days, I couldn’t sleep for a long time. Locked in a windowless dungeon and hooded, I had no idea how long it had been, but eventually I did sleep and I was still sound asleep when I felt master grabbing my ass cheek through the bars of the cage. I was taken by surprise I was so deep asleep that I didn’t even hear him come in. I jumped up, only to his my head against the bars fortunately, not too hard.
“Poor boy! You must have had such a hard time falling asleep, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry for not having heard you come in, Sir!”
“That’s OK, boy. I hope you got some sleep, though, because you have a long day ahead. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to sleeping like this.”
“I did, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Good boy. Now, I’ve got something for you to suck, boy.”
Delighted to be able to give him his morning blowjob, I opened my mouth wide and moved toward his voice.
“Oh no, boy. Not here, but here.”
He moved my head to the side where my inviting, open mouth met a hard dick — not Master’s, though. It was clearly his wish for me to suck this stranger’s dick, so I did with as much enthusiasm and skill as I would suck his. I was a little weirded out to be handed over to another man like this, but at the same time, it was exciting and hot. This had long been a fantasy. I wanted to make Master proud by giving this man the best blowjob of his life.
Master explained that this was the owner of this private island and the house and that a blowjob from me was part of the negotiated price, so “you better do a good job; otherwise, I might have to pay extra!”
While I sucked with passion, it just wasn’t the same as sucking my Master’s dick. I love all dicks but Master’s remains special to me! I knew, however, that I was doing a great job when the man was clearly getting close very quickly. I soon swallowed his load and received compliments from both him and my Master. They discussed whether the man would fuck my pussy as well, but they agreed that would be for a later time. He left and I never saw who’s dick I sucked — though, I knew I’d have a chance to serve him again at some point.
After master released me from the cage, the day settled in what was by now a comfortable routine: cooking, cleaning, him relaxing, light torture and bondage, some humiliation, him cumming a whole lot and me not at all. Two weeks flew by and I cannot get into detail on all of it here. However, in the next chapter, I will still recount a few things that happened in the rest of the two weeks, before we get into the phase where Oliver started to turn me into a cuckold.
To be continued…