Trained By The Boss: M/M BDSM Straight To Gay First Time Romance

by Charlotte Storm

  Something that feels this amazing isn’t wrong. Right?

  “You’re safe with me, Aiden. You can let go.” Griffin’s words are little more than a whisper, but they resonate loud enough to crumble my walls.

  Snaking my hands across his chest to his shoulders, I hold on, dig my fingers into his muscles, as I relish in the feel of his hand on me.

  “Do you want to belong to me, Aiden?” he asks as he strokes slowly down my shaft, his breath heating the space between our lips. “Think before you answer, and know that any answer you give is acceptable. I don’t want you to think that your job”—he pinches the head of my cock through my shorts—“depends on this. It doesn’t.”

  My fingers dig harder into his shoulder muscles. My hips buck forward, begging him to go further. Fuck, I want him, want this, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  “I want to be yours completely, sir,” I say on an exhalation, my body, my bones, my soul releasing with the air.

  “I’m happy to hear that, Aiden. Now, do you think I should punish you for being late?”

  “Yes. Please, sir. Please punish me.”

  “Oh, I plan to.” Griffin chuckles, mocking me. “I wonder, do you still think you’re straight?”

  The answer catches in my throat. His grip on my cock tightens, almost to the point of pain. I grit my teeth, give him the most honest answer I can. “I do-don’t know, sir.”

  Pulling back, Mr. Hart locks eyes with mine. What he sees, I can’t imagine. But I know what I see. What I want.

  When he presses forward, closes the distance between us, I catch his mouth with mine, eager to taste him. Eager to please him.

  When his tongue presses against my lips, I let him in. Right now, there isn’t anything of his I wouldn’t let in, anywhere he pressed.

  Grabbing the back of my neck, he deepens the kiss, claiming my mouth with his. He growls. I catch the sound, drink it down. Take it into me.

  Just as quickly as he started, he stops. “Now do you know?” he asks, staring at my lips.

  They’re swollen, rubbed raw from the prickles of his facial hair. It’s a sensation I never thought I’d feel. One I never want to live without.

  “I’m starting to, sir.”

  “Good.” When he lets go of me, I want to scream at him to put his hands back on me. Jack me off, let me finish. Claim my mouth, and after, my body. “Ready to go for a run?” he asks as if the past five minutes never happened?

  “What?” I stare at him, then at the bulge in my shorts. “W-What about this? What about me being yours?”

  “You are mine.” He turns his back on me, heads to the office door.

  I lick my lips, not sure how hard I can press, and definitely not sure what the hell is going on. “But I thought...I mean, I want to be yours now, sir.”

  Griffin stops mid-stride. His fists clench and unclench, and he rolls his head around on his shoulders like he’s working out his muscles.

  “You are mine now.” When he turns to face me, his jaw is hard set. His fierce gaze even harder. “Right now. And on this run. And for as long as we both agree. Only mine, Aiden. Do you understand?”

  “Of course, only yours, sir. I don’t want anyone else.” Could he think I might mess around with his son because I’m willing to try this with him? “It’s just...you don’t expect me to go running like this, do you?”

  I rub my palm along the outline of my hard rod, the relief instant, but the after effect so much worse.

  He crosses his arms, his eyes moving down the length of my body. “I do. I expect you to do what I tell you, when I tell you. Consider this your punishment for disappointing me earlier.”

  Punishment. Shit. I’d asked for it, and here it is. Only, this isn’t punishment, it’s torture. Bad enough I have to admit how much I want to belong to another man, but to want him and be denied?

  “Now, move your ass, Mr. Montgomery, before I make it so sore you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

  He points to his office door. I hesitate for a moment, considering if it’d be worth the beating just to have his hands on me again.

  “Yes, sir.” I do as he says instead, in the hopes that, if I obey and am good, he’ll reward me.

  Soon.

  Chapter 4

  The run is brutal.

  Not the distance, although ten miles is not for pussies. No, it’s that every single goddamn step, jostle, and leg movement brings with it a fresh wave of lust. By mile two, it borders on painful, and I wonder if I can keep up. By mile three, it dulls, and I’m both grateful and relieved.

  By mile five, Griffin notices I’m easily keeping pace, obviously not focusing on my discomfort. That’s when he reaches out and strokes me with the back of his hand, ever so fucking lightly, not breaking a single stride.

  He might as well have punched me in the nuts.

  I almost trip over my feet, eat shit on the asphalt track that goes around his neighborhood. I right myself, he laughs, and fuck him. I’m starting to have serious doubts about agreeing to be his when he suddenly pushes me off the track, into a grouping of trees, and fucks my mouth with his tongue until I almost cum in my shorts.

  When he releases me, I fall. My hands and knees are nice enough to catch me. But they don’t appreciate the debris and dirt making this position painful.

  “As much as I want to see you on all fours, now isn’t the time. Get up. We’re only halfway done.”

  Only halfway? The complaint sticks in my throat the same way I wish he’d stick me in his throat.

  “Yes, sir,” I somehow manage to say as I push to stand and take off after him, at his pace.

  Every mile after that, the back of his hand makes contact with my crotch. By the time we reach his house, I could cry, my balls hurt that much.

  When we get back into his office, Mr. Hart locks all the doors, pulls the curtains and blinds, cuts us off from the outside world.

  “Take off your clothes,” he commands after flicking the final lock. “Place them in a pile by the door.”

  I swallow, my stomach trying its damndest to crawl up my throat. “All of them?” I ask, my voice squeaky.

  “All of them. I want you completely nude.” His eyes do a quick trip around my body like I’m a racetrack he’s about to drive at full speed. “The longer it takes you to undress, the longer everything will take.” He stares at my painfully engorged bulge, his point clear.

  I’ve never undressed so fast in my entire life. I have a feeling, with Griffin Hart, I’m about to turn a lot of never befores into firsts.

  It’s only when I’m standing completely naked in front of him, everything about me on full display, the cool air nipping at all that exposed skin, that I remember to be self conscious.

  My hands immediately cup my dick, try to block my full sac. It’s pointless, because I’m too hard, but the part of my brain trying to hold onto the notion I’m straight needs to make a show of it.

  “Hands behind your back.” His command comes quick, with a sterness I haven’t heard before.

  I hesitate, the war inside raging about which side I’m on. The pause is a mistake.

  Faster than I can track, Griffin has his hand around my throat, my back pushed against the wall. I grunt when the air is knocked from my lungs. My hands instinctively wrap around his wrist and forearm.

  At least he got what he wanted. Me, uncovered.

  A nanosecond after that thought registers, a vice tightens around my nuts, choking the blood flow. With how full they are, how turned on I am, it’s too much pressure.

  “Fuck!” I try and say, but the word is garbled against the hand around my throat.

  “Listen, and listen carefully, Mr. Montgomery. I’m only going to say this once.”

  He waits for me to nod, to acknowledge that I heard him.

  “Either we’re doing this, or we aren’t. No more of this back-and-forth shit. Are we clear?”

  I nod.

  He releases his grip on my throat so that he’s no longe
r cutting off circulation and my airway, but he doesn’t remove his hand, and he doesn’t loosen his grip around my sac.

  “You don’t have to define what you are. Gay. Straight. Bi. I don’t give a shit about those labels. When you’re with me, they don’t matter. The rest of the world doesn’t exist. What matters is that you want to be here. Do you want to be here, Mr. Montgomery? Again, either answer is fine. If you want out, tell me now, and everything will go back to the way it was. Zero strings.”

  This is it. He’s giving me an out. Free and clear. But I don’t want out. Every nerve in my body tells me as much. Every skin cell where his connects with mine begs for more.

  “I don’t want out, Griffin.” I say his first name because I need him to know I’m in. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since day one.” Releasing my grip on his forearms, I move my hands to his chest, fist his sweaty shirt between my fingers.

  He kisses me. God, I didn’t expect him to, and it’s the perfect response. I feel the pull of his lips and tongue all the way to my toes. All the way to my marrow. All the way in me.

  When he pushes away, he’s breathing as hard as I am. Finally, mercifully, he releases his vice grip on my nuts, rubs at the sensitive flesh and orbs beneath.

  “Now we have that established, I should probably give you a safe word.” He rests his forehead against mine, and everything about him envelops me. His presence, his heat, and the subtle way he smells like the perfect mixture of sweat and faded cologne.

  “Safe word?” It’s weird, because, with what we’re doing, how far over the line I’m willing to go, those two words don’t seem to fit. The idea of belonging to him far from safe.

  “Yes. Safe word. When you’re with me, you do what I say, when I say. It’s my job to push your boundaries. It’s your job to tell me when I’ve pushed too far.”

  “I’m way past too far,” I admit.

  “No.” He shakes his head, his full bottom lip curling with the word. “You aren’t even close. But you will be. In this type of relationship, dom and sub, you give me all the control, but you hold all the power. Do you understand?”

  I shake my head. “No, sir.”

  He grabs my nuts again. I let out a noise half way between a screech and a groan. If I thought he was rough before, it was because he hadn’t yet brutalized me in this particular way.

  Tears prick my eyes. My dick, hard as it is, wants to crawl inside me. Hide and never come out. My balls, too, but they aren’t going anywhere.

  “Grif—” I choke on his name, unable to get it out. Unable to do anything but focus on the blinding pain. “Too. Far.” I finally manage to say.

  He lets go. The relief is instantaneous.

  “That’s how this works,” he says, but it’s hard to focus through the pain radiating up my spine, driving ice picks into my skull. “You tell me when it’s too much. I stop.”

  If he’s waiting on a response, he won’t get one. I can hardly breathe, let alone get my voice to work.

  “Aiden?”

  Shutting my eyes so tight they ache, I clench my fists and will the radiating torture to subside enough to answer. Turns out, my will is pretty fucking weak at the moment.

  Something like a sob breaks free from my chest. Dropping to his knees, Griffin takes my cock into his mouth while his fingertips try and massage out the pain in my sac.

  Suddenly, everything comes alive. And because I’m so sensitive, the sensation of his lips and tongue against my length are magnified a thousand times.

  “Oh, God,” I choke out, only this time for a different reason.

  The orgasm I’ve been denied all day rises fast and hot. My toes curl. My core tightens. My fingernails scratch at the wall behind me. It doesn’t even occur to me to be bothered that another man is giving me head for the first time in my life.

  The instant before his mouth tips me over the edge, Griffin pulls away. His lips trail a gentle path down my shaft. He sucks one testicle into his mouth, releases, then takes in the other one.

  Using my thighs for leverage, he pushes to standing. “Better?” he asks. The way his lips twist, he knows the answer.

  “No. It’s so much worse, sir.”

  He plants a single, chaste kiss against my lips, and I can taste myself on him. “Have you ever been denied before?”

  “Never. Sir.”

  He runs his fingers over his mouth to wipe away his spit. “Makes everything so much more...intense, don’t you think?”

  “That’s, uh, that’s one word.”

  “I’m going to hit the shower.” He whips his sweaty shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. “That’s all for today, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “All?” I’ve never realized how much emotion someone could put into one word. In three short letters are sentiment enough to fill a fucking library. “Please, Grif—Mr. H—Sir. Please don’t make me leave. Please don’t leave me like this.”

  I don’t touch my dick, don’t dare, because I know the instant I do, I’ll explode.

  “You’re right.” He draws out the words, pretending as if he only just remembered he forgot something. A large, hard, painful something. “You can’t leave yet. I haven’t chosen your safe word.”

  He taps his lip, the muscles in his chest jumping with the motion. “I’ve got it.”

  Fucking me with nothing more than his eyes—in the way I wish he would with his body—he slowly reaches out, snakes his hands around my waist, and grabs two handfuls of ass.

  “Straight. Your safe word is straight.”

  Chapter 5

  When Mr. Hart lets go of my ass, turns from me and heads to his private bathroom, I think I might actually die.

  The bathroom door closes. The shower turns on. I sink to my knees, my dick dripping with precum.

  I bite back the scream working its way up my throat, worried even that could make me go off.

  I’ve never been this turned on before. No. Turned on doesn’t seem like the right words to describe the total and complete awareness every molecule in my body has for the thing between my legs.

  By the time Griffin turns off the shower, I’m no longer a man. I’m no longer anything but a pathetic, weak, desperate sensation waiting for the right stimulus.

  He takes his time in the bathroom. I don’t know how long I kneel on his floor in the middle of the office. I don’t care. I’d stay here overnight if it meant relief.

  “You still here?”

  Mr. Hart’s voice sounds from somewhere behind me, close to my ear. I didn’t hear him finish up in the bathroom, or open the door. My brain is too preoccupied with the pain making me feel like I’m burning alive, the chosen fire lust.

  “Aiden?” His voice sounds again, tone firm. He snaps his fingers in my face, but I can’t look at him. Can’t move.

  “Say something,” he demands, “or I’m going to think that I broke you.”

  He did break me. He’s broken everything.

  I try to get my voice to work, try to force air from my lungs, up my throat, to activate my vocal chords. It’s a poor attempt.

  “What was that?”

  Griffin kneels beside me in nothing but a pair of flannel sleep pants. No shirt. He smells like expensive soap and citrus shampoo.

  “Straight,” I finally manage to croak. “Straight,” I say again, louder this time. “Fucking STRAIGHT!” I shout, hoping that release will help ease the one denied me.

  Mr. Hart places his fingers underneath my chin, lifts my face until I’m looking into his. The feel of his skin on mine sends a shudder through me. My dick spasms. More precum leaks out, joining with the string leading to a small puddle on the floor.

  “Is it too much?” he asks, his face and tone both serious.

  I nod.

  “Okay,” he says, and sounds almost gentle, caring, when he says it. “But cuming will cost you.”

  “Fine,” I answer, no hesitation. “I’m willing to pay anything.”

  “I know.”

  I probably should be wor
ried about the grin that tilts his lips, makes him even more painfully handsome. But I’m too consumed with the need to release to think of something as silly as self preservation.

  Letting go of my chin, Griffin brings his hand to the back of my neck. He grips me hard, pulls me into a kiss. I could go off just from that. But when he reaches his other hand between my legs, grabs hold of my dick and jerks me hard, I erupt.

  My balls tighten. The muscles in my core turn to stone. Like the sudden vacuum of space, my orgasm sucks every molecule of need and denial into it, pulling from depths within me I never knew existed.

  I’ve never cum so hard, so fast, in my entire life. The orgasm is blinding, and for a moment, I’m convinced I lose consciousness.

  I scream. No. I roar.

  I hope to fuck this office is soundproof, or I’ll have a lot of explaining to do to Geo, or whoever else might be here.

  Finally, when enough of my primal, base desire has made a mess of the floor beneath me, I start to feel almost human again. Griffin pulls his hand from my cock and uses the one wrapped around the back of my neck to push my face into the floor.

  I’m not fast enough to stop what’s happening, too spent for my reflexes to work properly. My cheek crashes into the ground, smearing into the mess I made.

  “We always clean up after ourselves.” Mr. Hart’s voice is calm and stone cold. “Don’t leave a mess, Mr. Montgomery.”

  I try to push to my feet, to get a towel from the bathroom to clean up my release. Griffin holds me in place.

  “Where do you think you’re going? You aren’t permitted up until you’ve licked every drop of your cum off the floor.” He raises the hand that jacked me off in front of my face. “Off my skin. Understand?”

  Shit. I do understand. That’s the problem.

  He wants me to eat my own cum. Off his floor. Off his hand.

  I try to glance at him, see if he’s joking. But who the hell am I kidding? Of course he’s serious. I don’t need to see his face to know that.

  I want to resist. Tell him, “Fuck, no.” But with the fresh pain of my recent release still present, I know that’s something I never want to feel again. If I refuse him, I have zero doubt Griffin will do just that. Or worse.