Decoding Desires Ch. 07


****Hi, thanks for checking out this chapter of Cody’s story. This is a consensual, gay male BDSM story. This chapter contains bondage/restraints, biting/marking, denial, and dominance. If you aren’t into those things, this chapter may not be for you. If you do, I hope you enjoy.


I’m up early, but somehow Lee is up before me, or at least the bed is empty. My alarm was set for five thirty, but it’s so dark in Lee’s bedroom, and oh shit, I’m in Lee’s bed. I spent the night. I’m giddy, but I reign it in. Also, it’s still ridiculously dark, so it’s hard to tell what time it is. Using my phone as a flashlight I get up and stumble to where I sort of remember the light switch being, then grope the wall until my hand lands on it. The lights come on and I blink a few times.

Lee’s collection of spanking tools on the wall is staring at me, both intimidating and exciting. There are two rows, a top and a bottom row, each tool hanging from the ropes by hooks. They seem to be organized by type, then size. As a tradesman, I appreciate his organization and care for his equipment.

Or maybe that’s just how I’m trying to keep myself from being overwhelmed.

It’s impressive. He has a lot of stuff here, some of it still has original tags on it. I flip a tag over, careful not to touch its owner, a sleek black handled whip of some type with about fifty strips of red leather sprouting from the handle. The tag informs me that it’s actually a flogger, and that it cost Lee eighty four dollars and ninety five cents, before tax.

I drop the tag and peruse his collection, a rising sexy-terror bubbling from my guts into the rest of my body. He has seven different wooden sticks with black grippy handles, then four different sized crops, like the kind used for horses, three of them all black, one of them trimmed with blood-red leather. There are traditional looking paddles, wooden ones like from movies and stuff with bad kids.

In addition to the flogger I checked the tag on, he has four other ones, all made of different material. One is made from that weird rubber stuff that they used to make Koosh balls out of, those plastic or rubber pom pom balls I got out of quarter machines when I was a kid. Another is made from tiny little chains, and when I run my fingers over it the sound it makes makes me shiver.

So many paddles. A wooden one. One that has a solid plastic handle but the end is wrapped in leather. One that is just leather, split in two all the way down to the reinforced handle. Some are made of silicone, maybe? They are soft to touch, and kind of floppy, and I wonder how they would even work if they aren’t solid. One of the paddles is obviously a novelty, it’s done in black leather, but the word ‘SLUT’ is cut out, displayed over a layer of red leather.

Lee clears his throat behind me, sending my heart racing.

“Shit, Lee,” I gasp, hand over my heart as I turn to face him, my face on fire.

He’s smiling like the cat who stole the cream. “Don’t mind me,” he says, a cup of coffee in his hands. He’s leaning in his door frame like he’s been there for a while. “I’m just observing.”

“For how long?” I’m so embarrassed I could die. My little man, on the other hand, is as excited as a dog whose owner just came home.

Lee notices the excited doggie in my boxers. He lets his eyes trail up my body slowly, I’m wearing an old black tank top, the boxers, and nothing else. “Oh, I dunno,” he dismisses, finally meeting my eyes. I’m too embarrassed, I look away quickly, hand over my erection.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just, it, um…” I had no excuse.

“Do you see anything you’re interested in?” Lee asks, then hides behind a sip of coffee. It’s hard to tell, the lighting is bad, but he might be blushing.

“I dunno,” I reply, turning away from him. It’s not better to be looking at Lee’s collection, it’s just as embarrassing, but he asked, so I’m going to answer. I pick up the weird rubber or silicone one. It’s shaped like a paddle, but it’s weirdly smooth and just as floppy as I thought it’d be. “I don’t understand this one.”

“Oh, the Tantus?” Lee asks, pushing himself off the doorframe. He advances on me before I can retreat, then places his hand over mine on the paddle’s handle. “What don’t you understand?”

He puts his mug on the floor, then moves my hand and the paddle flops. I’m rock hard, and so nervous my throat is tight. “It’s, like, wiggly. Isn’t it supposed to be hard?”

Lee releases my hand and steps back. “Isn’t it devious?” His smile, oh my heart be still.

“Huh?” That’s me, a wordsmith, for sure.

“Hit your arm with it,” he suggests. I do, but not very hard and it thuds against my forearm ineffectively. I look up at him and shrug. “No, no, it’s about impact. It’s in the wrist, here, can I?”

He holds his hand out and I obediently hand over the Tantus. He holds it like he knows what he’s doing. I’m jealous and nervous, and suddenly full of ants. He holds his other arm out, then flicks the Tantus in a way that istanbul travesti I know will replay in my mind for the rest of the day. The sound it makes, oh, the sound it makes. His arm is immediately pink in the round shape of the paddle.

“Hold out your arm?” he asks. I do, because I would do anything this man tells me without questioning it, and maybe that’s wrong, but fuck if I care right now. He grasps my hand with his free hand, then flicks his wrist.

That innocent looking piece of flat, thin silicone hits with an oddly satisfying thud, but also stings like hell. I hiss and reflexively jerk my arm back, but Lee holds it so I can’t. He’s watching me intensely, waiting for my reaction.

“Wow,” I say, looking at the red impact mark on my arm. It’s much redder than Lee’s was, but I turn red so easy that it’s not surprising. I meet his eyes, then turn away, the intensity is too much.

“Did you like that?”

“No,” I whine. “It hurts.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

I nod. He puts the paddle back on the empty hanger. “It hurts more than I thought it would,” I note. He isn’t looking at me, he’s studying his wall of pain. He pulls down one of the floggers, the one with a ton of tiny rubber threads.

“They’re all different, how they feel when they’re used,” he says. “And where they’re used. Were you ever paddled as a kid?”

I shake my head. “No. Never.”

There is a longer than necessary pause before he says anything else. “Did you really not like it?” he asks, not looking at me as he studies the flogger in his hands. He’s running his fingers through the rubber threads and I want to know how it feels.

The temperature in the room rises ten degrees in a second. “I liked it,” I admit, barely a whisper. “But I also didn’t.”

Lee looks up at me with a look that makes me want to call off more than I ever had before. “That’s what makes it such a good punishment. Do you want to feel this one?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Put your arm out again,” he requests. I do, and this time he doesn’t take my hand, just lets me hold my arm out on my own. “Ready?” I nod, swallowing hard as I brace for pain.

Instead of striking me he runs the strands over my arm, tickling my arm hairs. It feels wonderful as it trails over my pink paddle mark. He repeats the motion and I look up at him. He’s smiling and I want to kiss him, but I haven’t brushed my teeth yet and I’m worried about my morning breath.

“You like?” I nod and he rewards me with another smile. “This one can feel very nice, and it can feel very stingy.” He flicks his wrist quickly and the soft rubber strings snap my skin. It doesn’t hurt like the Tantus did, but it does sting a little. He does it again and the sensation multiplies. “This one doesn’t feel so bad at first, but it wakes up your nerves for bigger paddles later.”

I shiver, my arm still held out for Lee. He runs the rubber over my skin again, then turns and puts the flogger away. I’m biting my lip, trying to think up a good reason to call off work today other than ‘I want my boyfriend to spank me so hard I can’t walk’. I wonder if this is turning Lee on as much as it is me, then he turns around and I don’t have to wonder anymore, he’s tenting his pajama pants, his dick pointing straight to me. My eyes lock onto it and I can’t look away.

“I like,” I whisper. “I can call off work.”

Lee chuckles, then steps closer to me. His fingers brush my erection over my boxers. “I can tell. And, no, you’re not calling off of work.”

“Lee…” I’m whining, I know it, but I can’t stop. “I don’t wanna go.”

Lee reaches out for me, then surprises me when he circles my body and grabs me from behind, pulling me into his hard rod. “You’re going, Brat.”

“Sir, please!” I’m really whining now, needy and horny.

He chuckles, then reaches around my body. His hand slips down into my boxers and wraps around my dick. I thrust involuntarily and he squeezes down hard. “Stand still, Brat.”

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, embarrassed by the tremble in my voice.

“Good boy,” he praises, then relaxes his grip. He strokes me and I’m purring, putty in his hand. “That’s right, Brat.”

It’s so hard not to thrust into Sir’s fist. “Wanna cum, Sir,” I moan, resisting the urge to hump his hand.

“Nope,” Sir says with a laugh. “You’re supposed to be getting ready for work, aren’t you?”

“Sir!” Sir is stroking me again, and I’m hoping he’s gonna let me bust one before work if he’s not gonna let me call off. “Sir…”

Sir kisses the back of my neck, then moves to the side and kisses there, too. He kisses up to my jaw, all while slowly sliding his fist up and down my little man. The kisses trail down to my shoulder. He noses the top of my tank top to the side and kisses my collarbone. I’m so horny for him right now, I want him to fuck me right now. I’m grinding my ass against his perfect piece, longing for it.

His teeth bring me back to reality as they sink into my shoulder. He pulls the skin up with his istanbul travestileri teeth and grinds, and I’m whining and shrinking away from him, but he’s got me literally by my short hairs. He’s moaning, stroking me, and now he’s rubbing his member against my ass, holding his bite the whole time.

I’m even closer to coming. If someone had asked me if I liked pain before I met Lee I would’ve looked at them like I was crazy. Now, I can’t understand the difference between the pain and the pleasure of his bite, him pressing himself against me just icing on the cake. “Fuck, Sir,” I gasp when he releases his bite, somehow the wound hurting worse now that he’s let go of it. “Fuck.”

“I marked you, Brat,” Lee whispers in my ear. I shiver, the thought pushing me maddeningly close. “You’ll go to work today wearing my mark, just under your clothing.”

“Fuck, Sir!” I growl. My hips are moving now, thrusting into his fist. I’m so close, the idea that he’s marked me, that no one will know but us, it’s fucking with me something fierce in the best way possible. “Please, Sir!” I don’t even know what I’m asking for at this point, maybe another bite, maybe to cum, maybe for him to fuck me. All of it.

“Are you close, Brat?”

“So close, Sir,” I moan. Sir’s fist closes over my throbbing member, stalling my hips. He presses his face against mine, then he’s whispering in my ear so close I feel his breath tickling the inside, his lips brushing the outside.

“You don’t get to orgasm, Brat. You’ve got work.”

I’m whining and moaning and trying so hard to thrust into Sir’s hand, so close to coming. “Please, please, Sir!”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he tisks in my ear. “You heard me. No orgasm.”

“Sir, I wanna cum, please sir.” I’m out of my mind with need, terrified that he’s going to force me to go to work like this, longing for him to make me go to work like this.

“Very well, Brat,” he says with a sigh. “You have to tell me before you cum, though.” He moves his hand again and I’m moaning like the slut I am for him. He even lets me thrust into his hand, but he holds me close so that his dick is touching me the whole time.

“Yes, yes, Sir, I’m gonna cum,” I hiss. “Gonna cum.”

His fist stops, then tightens again, not as hard as before, but hard enough to stop my hips. He holds me still but my cum was already in the pipes, so to speak, and there was no stopping it. I felt my dick throb, could feel my heartbeat in my dick as Sir held me tight, then Sir’s hand disappeared.

“Watch it,” Sir whispers in my ear. “Watch your wasted orgasm.”

Thick white fluid seeps from my slit, the force of a normal ejaculation gone. Each pulse of wasted cum builds the frustration, and I’m mewing, thrusting my hips in the air with each throb of my aching dick. My balls feel too full, and my dick is still agonizingly hard. “Sir,” I whine. “Sir.”

Lee licks the edge of my ear. “Good boy, Brat.” I shiver as he grinds himself against my ass, then I push my ass back, longing for him to take me. I’m a mess, I need him so much. He’s all that exists, there’s nothing else. Just Sir. Just Lee.

“Sir, can I blow you?” I ask, ready to do anything to please him.

“Don’t you have to work?” Sir asks, then bites the edge of my ear hard enough to earn a squeak from me.

“Sir!” I whine. “I don’t wanna.”

“Good boys who go to work will get a reward when they’re done,” Sir promises.

“Please, let me suck your cock, Sir. I’ll go to work.” I want it so bad I’m salivating like pavilov’s dog. I can taste his phantom precum, the memory strong enough I’m experiencing it. “Please, let me suck your dick like a good boy.”

Lee bites my other ear, then pulls away. “Very well, Brat. Come over here and suck my cock.” He pulls himself out and I’m done, I’m already there, on my knees for him, looking up at him, loving him. His hand wraps around the back of my head and he pushes his way into my mouth.

He hasn’t showered yet today, his taste is stronger than normal. I love it. I want it, want more. Want it all. He moans as he gently thrusts into my mouth. I suck hard, then moan as he dips deeper, then pulls back again. He goes a little deeper with each thrust and I want to gag on his dick. I want him to face fuck me.

He doesn’t. He stops just before he hits my gag reflex, gliding smoothly in and out of my mouth. I’m slobbering everywhere as he moves my head and rides my face.

“Good boy, Brat,” Sir praises. “Your mouth feels like velvet. I’m close.” His hips speed up a little and his eyes slip shut. He opens them in the next second, then pulls my head back hard by my hair. His cum splashes across the bridge of my nose, on my cheek, on my chin. The smell is intense, my head is swimming in it.

“Thank you, Sir,” I whisper, painted in his pleasure. I’m so fucking turned on, my dick harder than I think it’s ever been before, nothing but need. I know I have to go to work, knowing that Sir isn’t going to give me a real orgasm. I’m also ridiculously proud of myself travesti istanbul that I’m wearing Lee’s cum on my face.

Finally Sir is done coming and pushes his dick against my mouth again. “Clean me up, Brat,” he demands. I eagerly suck him in and wrap my tongue around his slowly flagging dick, loving the way his cum coats my mouth. He lets me clean him for a few seconds before pulling away, then he tucks himself into his pants. “Look at you, what a slut. Hard dick out for anyone to see, cum all over your face. No! Don’t touch yourself, you’re not allowed to touch yourself without my permission.”

“Sir!” I whimper. “I can’t touch my dick? Why not?”

“Because I’m your Sir and I told you not to,” he says as if explaining something simple to a child.

“Yes, Sir,” I say eventually. I already have plans to jerk off in the car, which is stupid, but that’s where my brain is right now. I know it’s a violation of what Sir has told me to do, and that’s exciting in it’s own way.

Sir looks me over, his hand on my chin. He tips my face up so he can admire his handiwork. “I own your cock now, Brat,” he announces.

“What?” I ask, confused by the statement. He says it so confidently that I believe him, I just don’t understand. It dawns on me that I’ve forgotten how to respond to him for a second, but he’s waiting for me to add it. “Sir.”

“Your dick, it’s mine. I decide when, how, and where you get to use it. You are not allowed to use my new cock without getting permission first.”

My face is burning with shame, but I like this new game. I like it more than I want to admit, especially considering that I’d never even considered anything even close to what Lee just declared. “You own my dick?”

“As far as when you get to use it? Yes. You know your word, if you don’t want to do this.”

I swallow hard. “I didn’t say that,” I say, biting my lip. I can’t look at him. Both my little man and I agree on this one, surprisingly. “I, um. What about, um, like, going the bathroom, Sir?” It’s a dumb question.

“Let me rephrase it, then. You may not use my new dick for anything other than urinating. Do you understand?” He’s staring into my eyes, his hand on my chin, holding my gaze. Locking me in place.

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, throat tight. I want to cum so bad I’m ready to hump his leg.

“Say it, Brat. Tell me that your cock now belongs to me, and that you won’t use it unless you ask for permission, and I tell you that you may.” Fuck, his honeybrown eyes are drilling into my skull. His cum coating my mouth, and the cum drying on my face, remind me who I belong to, not that I’ve questioned anything we’ve done so far.

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. I’m trembling, a needy mess of a man. “My cock belongs to you.” He waits for me to continue, then turns his head expectantly when I hesitate. “I won’t use it unless you say I can.”

Those words, they are like magic words, the power they suddenly cast over me. I’m dripping enough precum that it’s a string halfway to the ground. My hips are shaking, my hands trembling, my eyes locked into Sir’s. He smiles and I’m floating, high as a kite again.

“You’re so beautiful, Brat,” Sir praises. He strokes my cheek, the one without cum on it. “Such a good boy. Are you gonna be my good boy today?”

I nod. “Yes, Sir, I wanna be your good boy.”

“Good. Go shower and get ready for work. I’ll make your breakfast so you can take it on the road, I don’t want you to be late.” He releases my chin and holds his hand out. I take it and he pulls me up, then catches me when I stumble a bit, having been on my knees for too long.

“Yes, Sir,” I say, moving towards his bathroom. I turn around suddenly, realizing I didn’t get my work clothes out. I dig through my bag until I find the neon shirt and worn work jeans, then grab a pair of teal boxer briefs, my face red. Lee’s eyes catch on my underwear choice and my face burns.

I lock myself in the bathroom, strip, then pause for a second at my reflection. The way his cum decorates my face is fucking hot, then I notice his teethmarks and the purpling bruise blooming on my shoulder. I almost cum just from the sight of it, my whole body shaking a little as I have a mini-almost orgasm. I’ve never looked sexier than I do now, covered in Lee’s cum and mark.

The urge to jerk off is nearly overwhelming, but Sir hasn’t said I could, so I don’t, although I do brush it accidentally-on purpose a few times. I check my bruise again when I get out of the shower, pleased to find it slightly larger than it was before I went into the shower. It throbs in the best way, and also in time to the throbbing of my little man.

Not my little man, Sir’s new cock. The thought is pleasing.

Lee is in his kitchen, his back to me as he works on something on the counter. “Good timing, Cody,” he says, turning around. The smile on his face is all the food I’ll ever need. My stomach twists, reminding me that it didn’t even get Lee’s cum, and I know that it’s not true, but I wish it was. “I made you a breakfast burrito.”

My face is on fire as Lee offers me a burrito with the lower half wrapped in foil. “You’re amazing,” I say, dancing from foot to foot. His eyes sail south on my body and I blush even harder. “I’m still ridiculously hard.”

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