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Desmond and Declan
I queued up backstage with the other freshman, shaking my hands and bouncing on me heels to get the nervous fidgets out as the MC made his opening monologue to the beat of a heavy bassline. It was the annual freshman auction to raise funds for the sports department, and everyone who was on a team was expected to join in, especially those like me who were here on scholarship.
The curtain parted to a swell of cheers and we were momentarily blinded by the spotlight as one of the stagehands started ushering us through the opening to take to the runway. We all walked out single-file, down the left side, made a ninety degree turn at the end and shuffled back along the right.
Now that the initial parade had happened we were to wait to be called one at a time to make the trek again, only this time solo. We’d also been advised by our upperclassmen to put on a little show, to bump up the bidding, therefore securing more funds for our respective departments.
Nathanial had advised me to slick my hair back and lightly oil my body, and to wear my speedo and goggles when taking the stage. I was apprehensive to say the least, but did as recommended in the bathroom as soon as I was off the stage for the opening march.
I ran into the nearest stall and shed my tracksuit, having the foresight to wear my racing speedo under it. I then hurried to the sink where I practically dunked my head under the cold faucet, drenching my hair. I flipped it back with a quick motion of my head, and ran my fingers through it to give it that intentionally messy style. I then darted back to where my bag was and used the small bottle of baby oil Nathanial had given me to do a quick once-over, giving myself a shiny glow. Lastly I looped my goggles around my neck, like a make-shift necklace, and the look was complete. Now all I needed to do was wait for my name to be called.
Nathanial had also advised me to play up to the crowd, flex a little, be flirty, but not too much. Have confidence, but not be a douche about it. He told me that during last year’s auction the guys that had the highest bidding acted like naturals on the runway. It was all about selling your appeal, but not to be too blatant about it. I wasn’t one hundred percent on what he’d meant, but I was going to try my hardest to get as much money for the team as I could.
A small part of me secretly hoped that I could ‘win’ by getting the highest bidding, but I knew that was probably a long shot, since I was going up against many other teams with more muscle mass than I possessed. And some of them had modeled professionally before, so in that I was also at a disadvantage.
Finally the guy before me took to the stage, and the butterflies in my stomach started fluttering, as the anxiety and adrenaline mixed and raced through my blood.
Ok, ok. Take a deep breath. You can do this Desmond. I mentally psyched myself up with this inner monologue. Just smile, wave, and try NOT to throw-up.
The sound of the MC winding down the bidding was my cue to step up and as the other auctionee came through the curtain I took the stage, a bright smile plastered on my face.
“All right folks, this here is Desmond Cromwell, eighteen years old, Maths major. He’s on the swim relay team, and boasts a one minute fifty point 34 seconds in the two hundred metre relay sprint. He stands 5’6”, with golden blonde hair, and spring green eyes. Let’s start the bidding at one hundred pounds!” And with the sound of the gavel striking the podium, the bidding had begun.
I made my way down the runway waving gently, and smiling at all the dark silhouettes that made up the audience. It was easy to fall into the beat of the music, and to measure my pacing to it.The MC was calling out numbers, and I was surprised I was able to hear him over the music, but I had noticed that the timing in between the next bidding had started to taper off. I felt a bit ridiculous and the nerves were beginning to get the best of me, when over the music I heard a raucous cacophony of jeers.
“Come on Freshy, where’s the sex appeal? Don’t just march around like a stiff little soldier. Do something exciting.”
I couldn’t make out who had yelled, but I felt my cheeks begin to flair in embarrassment, and the butterflies dance in earnest.
“Come on Cherry Boy, show us some moves!” Another voice called out.
With that nickname I realized who was cat-calling me, and my brain came to a screeching halt. My teammates kept up with the verbal heckling though, as I tried to process what was happening. And then my brain kicked into overdrive as Nathanial’s advice came rushing back in.
So I did as he’d suggested and as the “crowd” demanded, and began to really move to the music. I started out slowly rolling my hips to the beat of the bass, and before too long I started really getting into the music. It helped that as soon as I began to loosen up the cheers of my teammates got louder.
“That’s it Freshy, show ‘em what ya got!”
I ran my hands up through my hair, and brought them back down, caressing them over my chest and down my torso, before sliding them along my sides and further back. I cupped my own ass, before giving it a light smack. The crowd went wild, and the bidding began to pick back up, but I was too lost in myself to register the numbers that were being flung around.
I got to the end of the runway, and ran my thumb down my lips and neck biting my lower lip after it’d passed, letting it continue between my pecs, following the line bisecting my abs, before I hooked it in the waistband of my swimsuit, pulling it down off my hip a bit.
By now I was on such an adrenaline high, that nothing could penetrate into the world I’d created in my head until a voice called out across the audience.
“Twelve thousand pounds!”
The MC halted his running tally in astonishment.
“Did I hear that right? Did someone just bid twelve thousand pounds?”
“Aye, ye did mate. Twelve thousand pounds!”
“I have twelve thousand, going once, going twice…” When no other bids were forthcoming, he pounded the gavel loudly on its block. “Sold, for twelve thousand pounds. Just make your way to one of the cashiers and we’ll process your payment.”
I made my way off the stage on suddenly wobbly legs. Who would pay that much for one evening with me? We’d been briefed that whomever had paid for our time would be having an evening with the purchasee, and what happened during that time was entirely at the discretion of the one who’d been bought. Nathanial told me that almost every time it’d just be a dinner with the highest bidder, where we were expected to be entertaining and gracious for being chosen. On the very rare occasions things might become more intimate, but he assured me that that was a very very unlikely occurrence.
I went back to gather up my belongings and get redressed, when I was waylaid by another auctionee grabbing my arm roughly.
“Think you’re such hot shit, Cromwell? Just because some wanker bid a small fortune on ya?”
“W-what?” Not my wittiest comeback, I know.
“Hope ya know that that bloke is gonna expect ya to add a little somethin' extra to yer dinner date,” he sneered.
“What are you saying?”
“Don’t play daft. Yer gonna be split and stuffed like a Christmas bird by the one that bought ya.” His nasty laughter followed in his wake as he sauntered off.
I felt all the blood rush out of my face, before it returned with a vengeance. I felt my legs begin to buckle and I sat on the nearest chair I could find. What had just happened? I put my face in my hands and tried to breathe as reality came crashing down upon my head. Would the one that bought me really expect me to sleep with them? There had to be some way to get out of this. Maybe I could talk to the MC, or someone else on the staff. Let them know that that was something I’d never be comfortable doing. Granted that I’d slept with a couple of guys, but those had been at my discretion, my decision. I was very certain I wouldn’t be able to sleep with a stranger of unknown acquaintance just because he’d shelled out a pretty pound for me.
I was fighting hyperventilation when I felt a hand lightly cup against my shoulder.
“Hey, Des, you alright mate?”
I looked up to see Declan leaning over me, a worried frown pinching his well groomed eyebrows together.
“I-I-” I stuttered, trying to get my brain to function. “I need to speak to someone in charge,” I finally managed to gasp out.
I jumped to my feet, frantically searching for someone, anyone on staff whom I could talk to about this new predicament.
“Hey, hey. What’s going on. Why’re having a freak-out?”
“Declan, I need your help,” I nearly cried. “I can’t do it. I just can’t do it!”
“Do what, mate?”
“I can’t whore myself out for money. I know someone paid a fortune for me, but I can’t just sleep with a stranger. I just can’t!” I was verging on hysteria as the words tumbled from my mouth.
“Hold on, hold on. Don’t get yer knickers in knots. Calm down and tell me what’s going on, yer not making any sense, mate.”
He guided me back down into the recently vacated chair, and after a few deep breaths I told him what that guy had said.
“So you see, I just can’t do it. I’ll go apologize to whomever paid for me, but I don’t know what they’re expecting from me, but I know I can’t deliver.”
Declan snaked his arm across my back and around my waist, pulling me in closer to the lee of his body.
“How would ya feel if it was someone ya knew?”
“I’m not understanding? Who would pay that much just to hang out with me?”
“Well….” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well nothing. This hypothetical conversation isn’t helping. I really need to figure out how to get out of this.” I glared at him.
“Alright, alright. I’ll tell ya who bought ya, so ye’ll quit having kittens,” he groused.
I looked at him expectantly, my breath held.
“It was me. I bought ya.”
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. My emotions had been on such a rollercoaster for the past ten minutes that I didn’t know how to handle everything. Everytime I thought I’d gotten myself under control, I’d look over at him, and fall back into a giggling fit.
“Are- are you serious? You’re not having one over on me, are ya?” I finally managed to get out.
“No I’m not,” he stated firmly.
“But why, Declan? Why would you pay that kind of money just for a few hours of my time?”
“Because I couldn’t let anyone else have you,” he spoke so low, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right.
I still sat there, dumbfounded. Looking him up and down, trying to gauge what was going on in his head. It was outrageous the amount he’d bid.
“I hate to ask this,” I began, “but can you afford that kind of loss? Twelve thousand pounds is nothing to sneeze at.”
He brushed off my question with a wave of his hand.
“It’s been taken care of,” he announced nonchalantly. “Are you ready to leave now?”
Mutely I nodded as he handed me my over-clothing and bag. He then extended his hand helping me to my feet, tucking my non-resisting hand around his arm as he led me away from the rest of the auction out into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Now there’s going to be three things you need to remember,” Declan said above me, as I felt him checking the slack on the ropes currently binding my wrists and ankles.
“Number one, you will address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ during this.”
I nodded my blindfolded head.
“I need verbal confirmation you understand, Desmond,” he chastised.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir,” I reiterated.
“That’s a good boy,” he praised, petting my head.
“Now onto number two and three. Everything we do tonight will test your limits, but just know that nothing will hurt you enough to leave scars and if it becomes too much, you need to call out the ‘safe word’, am I clear?”
I started to nod again, before I answered, “Yes-yes, Sir.”
“Good, good. Now your safe word will be cherries, understand?”
“Yes, Sir. Cherries.”
“No matter how many times you tell me ‘no’, I won’t stop unless you say the safe word. I need you to remember that. It’s all part of the play. ‘Cherries’ and it all stops.”
“Yes, Sir,” my voice quietly sounded in the room.
This had all happened so quickly. After Declan escorted me out of the venue, we got into his Audi TT, and he drove us off campus and out into the countryside. After about forty five minutes we pulled into the garage of a small cottage.
“Where are we?” I asked.
Declan said nothing, but came around to the passenger door and opened it, escorting me out and through the front door of the house. He led me through a few rooms, and up a set of back stairs to the loft area overhead. He switched on a bedside lamp, and motioned me to sit. Still bewildered, I acquiesced.
“Now Desmond,” he began, pacing slowly his hands loosely clasped behind his back. “I brought you here, because there’s something I’d like to do with you, and I think you’ll be amenable after we have a little discussion.”
I watched him, curious as to where this conversation was heading.
“I know through certain channels, that you’re not a virgin, am I correct?”
I nodded, still at ease.
“And that you have also been with a fair number of male partners as well?”
“I wouldn’t call two a fair number,” I muttered.
“Still, you have some experience, yes?”
“Yes….” I was starting to become a little wary of the direction of this topic, yet still curious where he was leading the conversation.
“I’m going to tell you the truth flat out. I did bid for you with the express purpose of fucking you. I also bid high enough that I knew few, if any, would challenge me.”
I sucked in a breath at his blunt confession.
“I also want to make you aware of certain… How should I put it? Certain preferences I have with my partners.”
“Like what?” I answered, growing a bit more nervous the further we talked.
“I’m what you might call a Dom, or Dominate. I like causing pain through pleasure with my partners. I like to be in complete control of them. I like to make them come completely undone, pushing them almost to their breaking points.”
I again sucked in a breath, exhaling shakily.
“I promise you this,” he took my hands in his, squatting down before me, “you’ll experience great pleasure, maybe the best you’ll ever have. But it will be given my way, at my discretion. I want you to enjoy this experience with me, but I won’t force you. I want us both to have a good time, but I need you to tell me if you agree.”
I sat there, staring into his midnight blue eyes as he held my hands, gently squeezing them, almost begging me to agree. I knew I was on a precipice. If I declined I knew he’d not push it, but if I agreed…. What new horizons could I explore? What new things about myself would I discover? What was University if not a chance to explore new things about yourself and to mould yourself into the person you’d eventually become?
I slowly nodded my head in affirmative, and a huge smile spanned his face. He leaned forward, placing a kiss on the back of each hand, as he squeezed my fingers.
And that was how I found myself tied face down and blindfolded less than an hour later.
I was still wearing my speedo, Declan having divested me of all else. Just laying on the bed, in total darkness had me practically quivering in anticipation. I didn’t know what to expect, nor could I see what he was doing above and behind me. I lay there, my ears straining to pick up any sign of what he planned, but after his little lecture, he remained silent. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I tentatively spoke out.
“S-sir?”
I hissed out a breath as I felt something hard land across my ass. Suddenly a hand was roughly tangled in my hair, wrenching my head back, almost straining my neck, and a hoarse voice hissed in my ear.
“You will not speak unless I have given you permission, is that understood?”
I nodded, not sure how to respond.
“Speak your answer, boy.” Another slap across my lower cheeks.
“Y-yes Sir,” I cried out.
“There’s a good lad,” he crooned, as he gently rubbed away the sting.
I sighed, happy that he was pleased. But then suddenly there came a series of hard slaps, one blending into another. I squirmed, trying to get away from the pain, but with my legs and arms pulled taunt by the ropes, there wasn’t much I could do to escape them. I shook my head against the pillow, crying out, trying to figure out why I was being punished when I’d just followed his instructions.
The spanking ceased as quickly as it had begun, leaving my bottom feeling tingly and warm. I gasped as something soft and cool slipped under my swimsuit and caressed against the now aching flesh. I wiggled my hips into the caress, hoping it’d relieve some of the heat, asking without words for more of the refreshing feeling.
Quickly the soothing touch was removed and the spanking began again. I cried, I bucked my hips, I twisted against my bonds as much as I was able, but the sharp sting was relentless, following after my every move. Just as it felt like I was on the verge of calling out the chosen safe word, the onslaught once again ceased, and was replaced by that cool, alleviating touch.I lay there panting, as the sting was slowly stroked away. My mind began to haze. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed as I became lost in the rounds of abuse against my posterior and the subsequent remedy with further touch.
As lost as I was I didn’t immediately notice that the hands massaging my now well heated cheeks had started to slip lower under the nylon fabric, and had begun to fondle lower areas. I groaned against the pillow below me as a hand cupped my sack, rolling the two balls inside against his palm. I felt myself beginning to swell as he diddled with the sensitive pouch between my legs.
I gasped as the material was stretched and then snapped against them. He repeated that twice more before the material was pulled further out and something cold and metallic feeling slid along my heated skin. The was a snick and the light pressure encasing my burning buttocks and now lightly stinging sack was removed. I heard the sound twice more and felt the material around my hips give way.
“What a truly splendid color” I heard him hum above me as he petted my swollen and plump cheek.
I wasn’t sure if I should comment, so I remained mute, waiting to see what he’d do next.
I heard his footsteps retreating, and the sound of the bedroom door opening. I held my breath, praying that he’d not prepared some horrible elaborate prank and I was about to be gang raped or something equally as abhorrent. I remained unmoving, hardly daring to breath, listening as hard as I could for any indication of what was coming next. After a bit he returned, and I could sense him at the foot of the bed, just watching. Goose flesh spread across my legs and arms as I waited for the next round of potential torture. But it never came.
Instead I felt something warm, wet, and slightly abrasive begin to wipe along my sack. It traveled against the fleshy skin, before traveling upwards, over the divide and started its way between my abused globes. I felt him reach over and spread my cheeks farther apart, and the warm wet cloth was swiped again and again along my crevasse. He leisurely cleaned me, making it feel like no area was left dirty, he even wriggled a cloth wrapped finger a little inside to be sure the area was sufficiently cleaned to his liking.
I felt the bed dip as he settled in behind me, and without warning he spread my cheeks and licked a wet trail up between them. My mind blanked for a moment. I’d never had anyone do that to me before. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Before I had the chance to make up my mind, he did it again and then again. By now I was pretty sure I was enjoying the new sensation. It felt different, and a little weird, but at the same time very very nice. His hands were busy both pulling my cheeks apart and simultaneously groping the flesh as his tongue made pass over pass.
He then switched it up, focusing on the wrinkled skin, usually hidden, circling his tongue around and around it, occasionally flicking the tip right against it. I moaned as he concentrated more and more on that one area, his long fingers biting into my flesh as he ate me out. As much as I was able, I started rocking back onto his face, hoping to deepen the pleasure his tongue was giving me. He latched his mouth around my furled pucker and hummed making my toes curl and my hands flex against their bonds as I groaned low and guttural. Even though covered, my eyes shot open as I felt his tongue begin to work its way inside me. I was panting heavily as he dove deeper and deeper, pushing in farther and farther. The pleasure was so intense, yet so elusive. It felt like if only it was a little more, just a little more. I can’t say what that little more could be, but he kept me perched on that edge as he tongue fucked my hole.
By now I was fluctuating between rocking back against his face and trying to rub myself on the sheets below me. I felt like I was so close. So fucking close to cumming. Just as I was about to spend myself I felt a hard slap again across my abused butt. I cried out as the pain caused the pleasure to recede and my muscles to tense up.
“What a naughty boy you are, rutting against the mattress,” he scolded. “Looks like we’re going to have to do something about that.”
The bed sprang back up as he left it, and I heard another door open and close. Then he was lifting my hips and something firm was placed below them. He reached below it, taking my much swollen member in his hand and I felt something hard being placed around it and under it. A faint click and then a small weight was what I was left with.
I desperately wanted to know what he’d just done, but I was scared to ask after the last time I’d spoken out of turn. I slapped my hand against the bed in frustration, not sure what I should do.
“Would you like to speak, Luv?” he queried.
I nodded, emphatically.
“Alright you have my permission. Speak.”
“What- what did you just put on me?” I asked. “Sir.”
“Oh just a little insurance measure to ensure you won't be cumming until I say you can. It’s a chastity cage. It’s what naughty little boys get who can’t control themselves. Now back to what I was doing before I was so rudely interrupted.”
I gaped at the new information he’d just supplied, but bit my lower lip as he just dove right back in, lathing my hole with relish. I collapsed completely against the mattress, my body and mind giving up the will to fight against him. I lay there, a groaning panting mess as he pushed me further and further. With the leverage under my hips and this bloody contraption encasing me, I was becoming more and more frustrated and anxious. His teasing was killing me. I just wanted so, so desperately to cum.
My back arched and my legs practically locked as he started pressing a finger into me. I bit my lips to hold in the cry as it was quickly withdrawn. He did this several times; pressing into my hole, only to back off as I started to press back against him. He petted around my opening, dipping a finger against it, but never really putting forth too great a pressure. By now I was so keyed up, it was almost painful.
“Please, please let me cum,” I shamelessly begged. “Please Sir. Please. Just once, just let me cum once. Please, Master.”
I’d completely lost all sense of my pride, and was ready to throw away everything if only so I could have an orgasm. He chuckled and petted against my straining, aching hole one more time.
“Please, Master,” I cried.
“Very well, since you’ve asked so nicely. I suppose a reward is in order.”
I felt the cold liquid of lube run down my crack and suddenly two fingers were plunged deep within me. They worked their way in and out a few times, before suddenly they brushed a spot that had me seeing stars behind my tightly closed eyelids. I gasped, and bucked my hips at the new sensation.
“So that’s where it is,” he murmured behind me. “Alright sweet boy, are you ready for your reward?”
I no sooner nodded, then he was rubbing over and over that spot, stimulating the hell out of it. I writhed and cried out against the pleasuring onslaught. Between one pass and the next I started cresting, and as his nimble fingers pressed against it once more, I came. And I came. I came so hard.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m cumming!” I shouted. “Oh fuck I’m cumming! Oh God it feels so good!”
He kept milking that spot, drawing my orgasm out, pushing me higher and higher. Just as it felt like it might be tapering off, he started massaging that spot again, bringing me right back over.
“Oh fuck me, oh God! Oh, oh God. FUCK ME!!” I keened, as the pleasure kept washing over me, setting all my nerve endings alight. Shivers wracked my body, and goose flesh mottled my arms and legs.
“If you insist, greedy boy.”
Without much warning I felt him begin to enter me, sinking slowly and deeply into my sensitized flesh. My hole was flexing so erratically I was surprised I didn’t tear as he pressed home. But my body welcomed his invasion, greedily sucking him in as he’d accused me of. I groaned as he bottomed out against me, grinding his hips against my ass.
By now I was a tear-stained sweaty mess. I just wanted, no I needed, him to fuck me six ways to Sunday. I pressed back against him as much as I could, letting him know with my body that it was his to do with as he pleased.
He stretched himself out along my back, still rocking his hips against mine, as I was slightly bent over the bolster he’d put under my own hips, giving him that perfect angle to reach all the good spots. He lay there, blanketing me as I came down from that last orgasm, just gently rocking our hips together. Finally as my heart began to slow, and I didn’t feel like I was going to hyperventilate, he began to really move. Sliding out just a little, before gliding back in, gradually getting longer and longer with his thrusts, but still maintaining that slow rhythm.
While I appreciated him taking his time to allow me to adjust, this isn’t what I ultimately wanted. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to pound me into the mattress. I wanted him to carve his mark into my hole and make a mess out of my boy pussy.
“Please Sir, fuck me,” I shamelessly begged for it. “Master, fuck me hard. Fuck me deep. Please Decan, please. Wreck me!”
In answer he reared up off of me, grabbed my hips and drove back in, hard and fast, his hips slapping hard against my ass. Yes this is what I needed. I cried out, twisting below him, trying to match his tempo. He reached forward, planting his hand against the back of my neck, holding me down as he fucked me into the mattress.
It felt so good, having him ramming so deeply into me. He released my neck to grab tighter to my hips as he drove it home. I’m fairly certain he was going to leave some bruises, but in that instant I didn’t care. I only cared about chasing that next orgasm as he rode me brutally.
Two more slams home, and I was again on the edge of the cliff. My hands flailed, needed something to keep me grounded as I was tossed into the void. I felt his left hand slide down my arm and he twined our fingers together, and I latched on to them for dear life.
“Now cum for me, Desmond,” he commanded, low into my ear.
And I did. I came and I came. Sobbing. Wailing. My whole body thrumming with pleasure. I felt like I’d been tossed into a tornado as I spun out of control. I heard my own voice, calling from a distance as I was sucked into the aether, and I blacked out.
I came to some time later to Declan gently cleaning me off with a warm towel. He slowly wiped all the sweat from my body, reverently washing away the dirty evidence of our time together. I moaned as my muscles ached in protest. He smiled as he noticed I was once again lucid. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“You did so well. You were magnificent tonight,” he praised, running his fingers through my hair.
I could only muster enough strength to smile weakly back.
“Here, drink this,” he said, lifting my gently and guiding a straw to my mouth. “It’s orange juice. It’ll help ground you and recover faster.”
I sighed, leaning back against him, sipping on the revitalizing drink. Once most of it was consumed, Declan shifted us lower onto the bed, cuddling me up against his side, still running his hands through my hair, softly petting me.
“Of all the partners I’ve had, you are probably one of the best,” he praised again. “You’ll never be a proper sub, but you held on, and never used the safe word. I’m very proud of you.”
I grinned as I snuggled deeper into his embrace, sighing as real sleep began to catch up with me, and claim me for its own.
“Yes, yes. Very proud. You were worth every pound.”