Be My Boy

by Casey K. Cox

  “My name’s Mitchell, by the way. I’m twenty-eight and I’ve been looking for something for a while. I’m thinking you might just be it. Why are you still wearing this?” Mitchell tugged at the collar Cole had put on Owen a lifetime ago.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve had it on so long I don’t even realize it’s there.”

  “Perhaps that’s why you haven’t found a new Master before now. Nobody’s going to claim you if you’re wearing another man’s collar.”

  Time to be honest then, and wasn’t that always the best place to start. “It’s a comfort thing. It makes me feel safe. I did take it off for a day. Didn’t stop shaking the whole time.”

  “I’ve been watching you for the last couple of months at the club. How long have you been on your own?”

  He’d noticed Owen. Was that a good thing or not? “My Master…” he took a moment to breathe through the pain that raked his chest. He missed the old fucker so much. “Cole passed away a year ago. I realized I’d have to get out and find a life when the money started running out. But I couldn’t get a job. I haven’t worked for fifteen-odd years. They wouldn’t even give me a cleaning job.”

  “Is that why you went to the club, to turn tricks?”

  “Not to begin with. I thought I might meet someone. I didn’t even think about the collar.”

  “People talk. To begin with they thought you were some rich old guy satisfying an itch. They didn’t like it when you weren’t paying for everything.”

  “That’s why they kicked the shit out of me last month?”

  “I guess so. I thought it would be a lesson for you, but you had to keep coming back.”

  “I didn’t know where else to go. I’ve been out of the scene for ten years. Mast… Cole didn’t like the clubs much.”

  Mitchell slipped an arm around Owen’s shoulder and started to stroke him gently. Owen hadn’t felt much kindness in the last year and he was so nervous, worried he’d fuck everything up. Owen looked at his hands twisting in his lap and caught sight of Mitchell’s cock hardening, a nice outline pressed against his jeans. A big one by the looks of it, bigger than Cole’s, though not as big as some of the cocks he’d had rammed in him over the last few months.

  He reached a tentative hand and brushed over Mitchell’s thigh, heading up to the bulge that beckoned him. “Steady, tiger,” Mitchell said, removing Owen’s hand. “We have things to discuss before we walk that road.”

  “I understand I might not be your type but I can still–”

  “Now hold up right there. I’m a patient kind of guy but I’m not going to spend the next ten years as scaffolding for your delicate ego.”

  Ten years? That sounded promising.

  “If I didn’t find you attractive you wouldn’t be here. I think the evidence supports the statement. So let’s not get into the whole ‘but you’re so young and I’m so old’ thing. You’re sexy. I want to make you whimper and beg and scream my name. End of story.”

  There was something so honest, so heartfelt in Mitchell’s words it caused a flush of tingles through Owen’s body. Mitchell actually wanted him in a way that meant more than a quick fuck or a power trip. Owen could feel it coming off the guy in waves, the heat from Mitchell’s body and the touch of his fingers stirred an ache deep inside. Owen took a deep breath and did something he hadn’t done in a long time. He followed his instincts and pulled Mitchell into a kiss.

  The surprise in Mitchell’s body spurred him on, and with a chuckle, he moved to sit astride Mitchell’s lap and reached in to taste and explore the gorgeous mouth that spilled the words he’d craved for the last year. Owen was sexy. Still fucking sexy at forty-seven, and to a young hot rod to boot. It gave him courage, it gave him confidence, and it made him horny as hell – something he hadn’t felt since Cole. And damn, were those kisses good.

  He rocked gently over the straining erection beneath his crotch. There was something tender yet powerful in this guy and it set off a fire deep in Owen’s belly. He smoothed a hand over Mitchell’s cropped hair. The stubble on his face tickled and teased, catching Owen’s own. Oh, he could get used to this. And the slow caress of surprisingly soft hands over Owen’s back as Mitchell explored under his shirt.

  “Tell me what you need, boy,” Mitchell said, letting the words roll over Owen’s neck with heat and lust, steeped in unmistakable desire. And Owen knew in that moment that this man was different, this man was special and more than that, Owen wanted him.

  “Just make me yours.” Owen’s head fell back and a groan escaped as teeth nipped at his neck and a hand squeezed his arse cheek. Owen didn’t register it at first, the slow pooling of warmth in his gut, the tightness in his jeans and fuck – throbbing in all its ruddy glory – an actual fucking erection. Magic words, magic hands, magic lips and maybe, just maybe, this guy had a magic dick that would make Owen squirm with pleasure.

  Mitchell unbuckled Owen’s collar and placed it on the arm of the chair. He pulled off his shirt, then Owen’s, and traced a tongue around Owen’s nipple, licking and sucking until the nub was hard and tingly. Feeling brave, Owen traced a hand over the muscled chest, tugging gently on the downy hair and ending at the button of Mitchell’s jeans. He popped it open and pulled down the zip, revelling in the gasps and hot breath that played over his chest. His fingers searched out the cock that nestled in the dark bed of curls, closing around it and setting up a slow, teasing stroke.

  Mitchell stood, lifting Owen and carrying him through to the master bedroom. The guy was strong. Fuck, Owen loved that. Knowing he could be overpowered, ravaged against his will. Yet there was nothing but respect and tenderness wrapping him up so tight he felt like he would burst with the joy and relief of it. Mitchell eased away so much sadness and pain with every touch as he laid Owen back on the bed, slipped off his trousers, and explored his chest and stomach with tender tastes and kisses.

  Oh, fuck. Tight heat engulfed Owen’s cock. Unexpected. Amazing. Bloody Fantastic. Forgotten experience reawakened with the clever swirl of a tongue and the suction of those pretty lips. Owen let himself float away. This time it wasn’t to get away from the moment, but on a bed of bliss that threatened to overwhelm him. Who was he to deserve this kindness from someone so beautiful, so bloody gorgeous and damn it, so skilled?

  Owen looked up as Mitchell pulled away from his cock, stood, and began to strip off the rest of their clothes. There were things to say but he couldn’t say them, could only watch in wonder as his angel found lube and condoms.

  Owen pulled up his knees as Mitchell rolled on a condom only to have them slapped back down. “There are a few things you need to know about me,” Mitchell said with a grin. “The first is that I call the shots. The second,” he said, rolling a condom over Owen’s cock, “I don’t play by the rules.” With that, he sat astride, butting Owen’s cockhead against his rim and started the slow, sensual slide over Owen’s cock.

  Owen shuddered as he slipped into the tight sheath of Mitchell’s body. He hadn’t topped for more than twenty years and his mind threatened to check out altogether. Rules, definitely not playing by the rules. Slave fucking his Master before the Master fucks the slave. Owen liked the lack of rules in this particular instance. He’d need them later, but damn, it felt good right now and the best way to use the first decent erection in way too long.

  Mitchell leaned over to kiss and caress as he rode Owen hard and fast, fucking himself with determination and whatever else but Owen couldn’t care less right now because he was dancing the edge, so close but not quite – a rush of hot breath over his ear, whispering. “You are so. Fucking. Sexy. Come for me, boy.” And Owen fell over the edge. The orgasm ripped through his body, tearing down all thought. Owen held on tight, arms wrapped around that young body and as his breathing settled, the tears flowed, another first in way too long. The pent up emotion from loss, fear, anger and pain all fought for expression as his eyes burned with the ferocity of it. The last shudders of his climax accompanied the sweet chuckle of t
he young man who’d stolen him from the depths of despair and given him a seat in heaven. The few star-spangled tears tipped over into racking sobs of relief.

  “Hey,” Mitchell said. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you, baby.” Gentle stroking over Owen’s tired body. “I’ve got you.”

  xxxx

  A soft hand stroked Owen’s arm, pulling him from sleep. He blinked a few times from sunlight streaming through the arched windows.

  “Hey, sleepy. I brought you coffee. I don’t know what you like for breakfast.”

  Breakfast? Coffee? Owen sat up quickly and looked around. Mitchell’s smile was glorious.

  “You look completely spaced out and spikey. That growth needs a trim.” The same soft hand that had dried his tears last night caressed his cheek.

  “Are you real, or did I die in my sleep?”

  “I’m very real and on my way to work. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Should I? I mean, I don’t want to get in the way or be a nuisance but if you don’t want me to stay here while you’re out, I can just bum around ‘til you’re done.”

  “None of that nonsense. If I didn’t trust you, Owen, you wouldn’t be here and I certainly wouldn’t have had sex with you.”

  Had Owen given his name? But then everyone knew Owen’s name at the club – the old guy still tricking. But not anymore, it seemed. “Okay, sorry. If you don’t think I’ll be in the way, I’d love to come with you.”

  “You head for the shower, then. What do you want to eat?”

  “Just toast is fine.”

  “Poached egg? Bacon?”

  “If it’s going.”

  “Get your arse into gear then.”

  Wow. The smell of bacon was enough to have Owen drooling. But walking down the stairs to the sight of a fully laid breakfast table with juice, coffee, toast, and a paper – the Times, no less – left him with his mouth agape.

  “Close that, before I find something to go in it.” Oh, that smile, again. Owen wanted to see a lot more of that smile.

  “Is this how you would like me to prepare breakfast for you in future?”

  “I do like to eat properly. And the paper is important. Do you cook?”

  “Pretty much anything, including different kinds of bread, and I bake too. Just tell me what you like.”

  “Hmm, looks like you turned out to be a good find.” Mitchell leaned over to kiss his cheek and Owen felt himself blush. “You don’t like to be affectionate?”

  “I do, I’m just…it doesn’t matter.” Owen grabbed a piece of toast.

  “It does matter. I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  “I don’t want you to be angry. You have to understand it’s going to take a while for me to get used to you…” Owen put his toast back on the plate. His words were getting scrambled in his head.

  “To me?”

  “Wanting me. I’m out of practice. But I can work and I can serve. I want to serve you.”

  “Good, because the thought of having you as my boy turns me on more than I can tell you.”

  “Oddly enough, it’s having the same effect on me.”

  “Even better. Now finish your breakfast. I’ve got a few stops to make this morning. Later we’ll call by for the rest of your things from the flat and you can hand the keys back. Did you put down a security deposit?”

  “Yeah, a couple of grand. You can have it towards rent.”

  “I don’t want your money. I want your trust and your loyalty. Put the money in the bank. Hopefully you’ll want to stay, but if you don’t, at least you’ll have something to start over.”

  “I don’t want to start over. It’s you or nothing.” Shit. Owen hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Mitchell just stared. The look on his face said he knew exactly what Owen was talking about.

  “You need to tell me that was a joke and mean it. Those stakes are too high for me to work with. I’m new to this, Owen. I can’t be thinking in the back of my mind that there’s no room for me to mess up.”

  “I’m sorry, it just slipped out. It’s what I considered, before. I won’t, I wouldn’t now. Fuck.”

  Mitchell took his hand. “Just tell me that you’ll talk to me. You’ve been through a lot, I get that, but I need you to trust me to look after you. I can only do that if you communicate.”

  “I can do that. But the same goes for you. I have to know what you need from me.”

  “That’s something I’m not sure of myself yet, but there are a few basics I do know. I’ve been in dom relationships before but they’ve always been lacking, or I’ve picked the wrong person. For me it’s more than a particular kind of sex scene. I want to live it more fully. Not just sex, but service, around the house, when we’re out. I’m not into humiliation so you don’t have to worry about that. What I want is someone to care for, who will care for me in return.”

  “Why didn’t it work before? What went wrong?”

  “Probably me expecting too much or wanting more than they were willing to give. But they were younger than me, perhaps playing rather than serious about it. They were looking for sexual kicks.”

  “I served Cole with my whole being for more than twenty years. It’s all I’ve ever really known or wanted to do. I’m good at it. Just let me know if there are any big no-no’s and what your punishments are likely to be. The rest we can work out as we go along if you’re happy for me to help find the balance.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. We’ll find the way together. The only big rule is that you are mine and mine alone. Nobody else will touch you. I will never offer you to anyone else and I expect you to be faithful. I will be too and as soon as a few months have passed, if we’re both still happy, we’ll get the tests and do away with condoms.”

  “That works for me. And I call you Master?”

  “During sex, yes. Let’s see how the first few weeks turn out before we extend that to all the time. Later, I’ll give you the alarm code for the house and garage and we’ll discuss duties. Are you ready to leave?”

  “Should I clear the table first?”

  Mitchell sat back and smiled. “Yes, that’s a great idea. Thank you.”

  It transpired that Mitchell owned a small gym franchise across south and west Wales. They spent the morning calling into various branches, meeting with the managers. Each time, Mitchell introduced Owen as his new PA. It boosted Owen’s confidence, and the respect he received made for a good tonic. They stopped for lunch at a country pub. Owen was itching to get his hands on Mitchell. There was something so sexy about him and seeing him work, in charge of so much for a guy so young, was a powerful aphrodisiac.

  Owen slipped his hand along Mitchell’s thigh under the table. “Thank you for this.”

  Mitchell raised an eyebrow. “Are you being forward, Owen?”

  “I’m sorry, Master. I just wanted you to know I’m here.” Please let him take the hint with the title.

  “Oh, I know you’re there all right.” Mitchell took hold of Owen’s hand and brushed it over the hardening cock in his trousers. “Maybe it’s time for us to head back to the car.”

  “Would Master like me to request the bill?”

  “Thank you, Owen.”

  Owen called over the waitress and in a few moments, they were heading back to Mitchell’s very comfortable BMW coupe. Mitchell started the car, but rather than head onto the road, he pulled into the far corner of the car park and turned off the engine. He slid the seat back as far as it would go and unzipped his trousers, wriggled them low on his hips, and took out his cock.

  “Your dessert,” he grinned, stroking over it a few times.

  “Thank you, Master.” Owen pushed back his seat and turned on his side to get better access. He took over the stroking, peeled back the foreskin, and leaned over to lick the head. Mitchell lay back and closed his eyes. Owen set to work. He tongued the slit and the ridge, savouring the little moans coming from his Master. His Master – yes, it felt right. With Mitchell good and squirmy, he sucked in the
length, taking it right into his throat, and swallowed to let the contractions provide heat and stimulation. Mitchell’s hand grasped his head, smoothing over his hair.

  “Fuck, oh god, that’s good.”

  Owen let up on the pressure. Keeping up the suction and with wet sloppy noises, he worshipped that cock. Good and hard, a nice girth and length. He tried to be careful with his back teeth because of the width, but every now and then they caught and Mitchell groaned louder, seeming to like it. He’d keep that in mind to experiment with another time. He sucked it in again to the very back of his throat.

  “I’m close, baby. Yes, yes…”

  The creamy warmth shot straight down Owen’s throat and he pulled off a little to softly suck the end and milk the last drops.

  “Kiss me.” Mitchell pulled at Owen’s shirt. “Kiss me now.”

  Owen shared the last of his Master’s come in that kiss that stretched into forever in a single moment. Hope flourished in Owen’s heart. He wanted to climb over the seat and bury himself in Mitchell’s body, crawl under his skin and stay there where it was warm and safe. Could it be, could he truly have found his home once more?

  “You’re beautiful,” Mitchell whispered in his ear. “That was beautiful. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Master.”

  Mitchell held him tight for a few more minutes while his breathing settled. “Okay. Back to work.”

  xxxx

  A couple of weeks passed and they were finding their feet together. Sex was still tentative but good. Mitchell was definitely holding back but that was okay. The trust was building and soon they’d both be able to relax into anything with each other.

  Owen had his own bedroom to sleep in, though he’d only made it there once so far. Mitchell seemed to like watching Owen do the housework. It turned him on – a lot. But there was something… Owen couldn’t quite grasp it, but there was definitely something Mitchell wasn’t telling him. It prickled at the back of his mind and popped up at inopportune moments. For now, he was riding with it, ignoring the fact Mitchell didn’t allow him to touch the post or file household paperwork and that phone calls were usually taken to another room.