A gay story: From Husband to Houseboy Ch. 07
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 — there’s no need to express your disapproval of these dynamics and fantasies.
This chapter wraps up the honeymoon sequence with some vignettes and the big confession.
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So much more happened during our honeymoon on the private island. A lot of firsts, a lot of sexy stuff, and a lot of rough stuff. Most of our days fell into a comfortable routine, though. I catered to his every need, he played with me and used my body for several orgasms, and I was denied release. Part of me wondered whether life could really be like this. Could it be that Master Oliver enjoyed dominating, using, and humiliating me so much that his desire to bottom from time to time could take a back seat? Could our everyday life ever be like this? If so, how would we bring in money?
At that time, it didn’t seem like this could be ever more than something for play time, not everyday life. How could I at this point have foreseen the tremendous changes that would take place in our lives in the next few years?
Anyway, it’s impossible to talk about everything that happened in those two weeks there, and the chapters so far have already sketched a good picture. However, there were a few episodes I still wanted to tell you about. I’ll just tell these in vignettes before I skip to the end of the honeymoon.
VIGNETTE 1
A few days after the day that I helped pay for the rental, I had finished cleaning the house and had started making dinner. As I said, most of it was a pleasant everyday routine; it almost felt like a regular domestic scene, if you ignored the nudity, chastity, and rough kink and sex scenes. Master Oliver came up behind me, at first just playfully teasing my pussy, kissing the back of my neck, and playing with my sensitive nipples as he asks me about what I’m making him (not us, him; I’m just generously allowed to share in his meal).
I tried to continue cooking, as I didn’t want dinner to be late, but it was hard to concentrate. I answered him but also sounded a little annoyed, as I found it difficult to concentrate on both duties (cooking and being his bitch boy) at the same time.
“Sir, I’d like to continue cooking, please.”
“What, you don’t want my dick?”
“I need your dick, Sir. Just not right now.”
Of course, as soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong answer. He swept my work area clean with one swoop and bent me over the kitchen counter. He pulled out his hard dick, yet part of me was still thinking about getting his dinner ready in time and the work it would be to clean up the mess.
What I should have been worried about, however, was that he was not reaching for any lube. As he pushed his big head roughly past my hole–still tight despite everything it had gone through over the last few days–I screamed in pain.
He growled: “Only obedient boys get lube.”
It hurt like hell. He was rough and fucked me deep. I didn’t think I had ever had such a painful fuck–yet, why did my cage feel so incredibly small at this time? As soon as that question popped up in my mind, I knew the answer. I always loved when he took control. I love it when he’s aggressive and assertive, dominating. It’s not so much that I love the pain itself, mostly I don’t. I love how the pain makes me feel: small, submissive, used, dominated.
In tears, I told him: “I am sorry, Sir. I always want your dick. I was wrong to put my convenience before your need.”
He painfully pulled my head back by my hair and make me look him in the eyes: “Yes, you were, boy. But, I do love seeing you in tears as I fuck you.”
He moved in for a kiss, I opened my mouth, eager for his big tongue. But, instead he spat in my open mouth: “Naughty boys like you don’t deserve tenderness. They deserve pain and humiliation.”
“That’s right, Sir! Thank you, Sir!”
He pushed my head against the cold, hard stone countertop and with deep grunts and a few last deep thrusts, he shot his load up my pussy.
This had been very much a quicky, yet it had been one of my hottest fucks ever. My legs had gone so weak from the intensity of the fuck that I fell to the floor as soon as he let go of me. He looked down at me and said: “You see, boy. This was just a quicky. I know what I’m doing; there’s no need to second guess me. Had you just gone along, it would have even been quicker, because now you’ll have to clean all of this up first. If you had just let me fuck you, you wouldn’t have been far behind schedule.”
“I am sorry for not having trusted your judgement, Sir. I should have known better. In the future, I will always remember that you know best, Sir.”
“Now, clean yourself and the kitchen, and I still expect dinner to be on time.”
I tried to get back on track but cleaning the kitchen again and redoing much of the prep turned out to be too much. Dinner was late and I couldn’t apologize profusely enough. I knew that if I had just let him fuck me, as I always should, he wouldn’t have created that mess to teach me a lesson and put me in my place. It was my fault. I accepted that I deserved to be punished.
As he took me downstairs to the dungeon, he explained to me that while part of my punishment will be for refusing him my pussy, I would still have gotten punished either way. Even without throwing everything on the floor, dinner would likely still have been late, so I’d still deserve to be punished.
I asked whether I would still get punished, even if it was beyond my control.
“Yes, boy. Does that not seem fair to you?”
I hesitated to answer. Could I really answer freely if I felt that that would be unfair?
“You can answer freely, I won’t hold your answer against you, boy.”
“It does feel like that would be unfair, Sir. Why would I get punished for things that aren’t in my control?”
“It’s not fair, boy. It isn’t meant to be fair. Punishing you is about power and control. Not fairness.”
I thought about that as he pondered which whip or flogger to use first. I realized what an important lesson that was to internalize: our relationship is not about fairness, or equality for that matter. It is about inequality, submission, power and control. Accepting that he could punish me even if I did nothing wrong, while it may feel wrong, is key to fully embracing my new role. I don’t deserve good treatment just because I did well. If he wants to punish me, that’s his choice and right.
After all, serving him well is its own reward and a minimum expectation, not something I should expect a reward–or, absence of pain–for in return.
VIGNETTE 2
A little over halfway through our honeymoon, Master Oliver surprised me. That day had been routine. I had slept in bondage in the dungeon and he woke me up by pissing on me. His morning piss was pungent and before I could clean myself and the floor and cage, he fucked my face to cum for the first time that day. After cleaning up, I made his breakfast, ate something small myself afterwards, and started doing chores as he relaxed on the private beach. At one point, as I brought him a fresh drink, he pulled me over his lap and spanked me–no reason, he said, he just felt like it. I was pretty sure some of the boats in the distance could see us, and was well past caring about that.