The Forbidden Room 01 - The Forbidden Room (3 page)

“Swallow it,” he said tersely, through his teeth. Seconds later, he stopped moving while deep in my mouth. I felt the hot, sticky semen stream into my mouth and I swallowed around him, forcing myself to concentrate on breathing and swallowing, and nothing else. When he was finished, he pulled out slowly, my jaws aching when I could finally move them again. One tear slipped slowly down my cheek as I thought about what I had just done. Not only what I had done, but about how it had made me feel. Degraded but aroused, humiliated but almost willing to beg for more, it scared me how much I wanted it. My erection was actually painful now, and all I could think about was how I would even resort to begging him for release. As I looked up into Ethan’s face, he smiled down at me, displaying his approval. He stroked my hair softly, and I realized then that this day would leave me irrevocably altered.

Still on my knees before Ethan, he looked down at me speculatively as he tucked himself back inside his pants and refastened them. My first reaction was disappointment, followed quickly by horror. What the hell was wrong with me? How could I be disappointed in him putting his cock back in his pants? Kneeling in front of me, he untied my legs from the bar, and then moved behind me to quickly untie my hands.

“Stand,” he said, and my muscles painfully protested as I complied. I refrained from rubbing my arms, and stood before him with my head down.

“You have a beautiful habit of looking down when you stand before me. That is very good, Jayden,” he said, and I could hear a note of pride in his voice. I had pleased him, and I felt a stirring of something, but in the next instant it was gone. Turning from me, he walked to the largest table, and then instructed, “On the table, all the way at the end.”

I followed him to the table, and did as I was told. The leather was cool beneath my flaming buttocks, still red from the paddling. As he indicated for me to do, I sat at the very edge of the table with my legs over the end. Pushing my shoulders back until I was lying down, he pulled my hands over my head before grabbing longer ropes from the wall to secure my hands to the top of the table and re-tie my knees to the bar, pulling it towards the top of the table. I ended up with my knees pressed against my chest while he tied another set ropes from the head of the table to the bar preventing me from closing my legs, or putting them down.

I felt horribly exposed, and another tear fell. Closing my eyes, I tried not to think about what was coming when suddenly, I felt warm slick hands on my raging erection, the warming gel he had applied to his hands make the feeling mind-blowing. There was no hesitation or awkward strokes; he knew exactly what gave me the greatest pleasure. It was like my body was a musical instrument, and he was my master. In effect, I guess that’s exactly what he was.

I couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped me as he used one hand to stroke the head with his palm, and the other to stroke the whole length. Being bound, I was unable to rock my hips up hard enough. My body was begging for release when I felt him remove one of his hands, and continue stroking with the other. When I felt him applying the gel to my anus, my mind shouted at me that I should panic, that I should scream the fucking safe word and get the hell out of here, but my body ached for the hand that was stroking me. First one, then two, fingers slid slowly in and out of me. The feeling was so far beyond anything I’d experienced that I moaned and whimpered without restraint now, using the only avenue allowed to me. He continued to violate me with his fingers, pushing them deeper with every stroke. I could feel it, I was so close now. Then inexplicably, he stopped his ministrations, and I let out a strangled whimper at the loss.

I felt his hands spreading my buttocks open to him, and I emitted a small frightened cry as I felt the head of his erection pressing into me. Closing my eyes tightly, I locked my jaw against the pain. My ass was on fire as he groaned softly and slowly pushed deeper. When I opened my eyes again, his eyes were on my face, watching carefully. When I felt his strong leather-clad thighs against my skin, I knew he was all the way inside me, and I felt stretched as his fingers dug into my hips to hold me steady. He was letting me become accommodated to his size, and I saw the effort it cost him to hold perfectly still. Slowly, he pulled back and then pushed forward again, impaling me. I tried to remain quiet, to hide the mounting feelings in the pit of my stomach. This couldn’t be happening.

Ethan began to move faster, his hips slapping against my buttocks with each hard thrust. He had both hands on my hips, steadying me as he drove into me. I just kept my eyes closed, I couldn’t let him see. My head rocked back from side to side, trying to stop the inevitable, but I knew that I couldn’t. Within minutes, his moans had turned into grunts and he fucked me faster. The base animalistic sounds coming from him, plus the friction from his thrusts pushed me to my breaking point. A low sob escaped me as my orgasm ripped through me. I came without him stroking me, or touching my erection in any way. It came about strictly from being bound to this table and taken with sheer animal force by another man, and I couldn’t hold back the tears now, it was just too much.

Ethan gave one last thrust, harder than the others, and I felt his orgasm inside of me. He squeezed my hips with his fingers, and groaned loudly as he filled me, or the condom covering his cock anyway. Breathing heavily, he pulled back, watching me as he started to calm. I could feel his eyes on me, and I sobbed silently at the degradation. My legs were still bound in the air, and I felt the cool air on my skin, still wet from the lube. When he moved to the head of the table, and stroked my face, I noticed that again, only his genital area was exposed and he was still fully clothed. Wiping away my tears, he kissed my forehead gently. Then he untied me quickly, and after I got up off the table, I knelt quickly on the floor, and pressed my forehead to his thigh. I don’t know what compulsion caused me to do this, but it felt oddly natural. Ethan ran his fingers though my hair, and then took my hand pulling me to my feet. I avoided his gaze.

“Jayden, your assessment is complete,” he said, pulling my face up so that I would look at him. “Now, I have to ask you something. I will let you remain in the house regardless of your answer. You have incredible potential that you are only just beginning to realize. I want you, and I will extend this offer to you only once. Are you ready to become my sub?”

I looked down and thought about his question. I could continue to live here no matter what I decided. Feeling extraordinarily disturbed that I had to think about the choice rather than just saying no, I weighed my options while he patiently watched me, knowing the decision was not to be made lightly. I thought about how I felt under his paddle, under his hands, impaled by him.

“Yes,” I whispered, almost to myself.

“Yes…” he repeated, trailing off, a question in his tone.

“Yes, Master Ethan.”

* * *

I wasn’t able to sleep that night, images from our session that morning, and our subsequent conversation, rolled over and over in my mind. The memories of the session bombarded my mind; I could still feel the soft texture of the leather bench under me as me paddled me soundly. I could remember every note of the song that played in the background, and the taste of him in my mouth, every detail etched in perfect clarity. The backs of my legs ached from being bound in one position for so long. No nuance of my experience today had been lost. They each replayed behind my closed lids like some foreign film – familiar, but not easily understood.

I rolled to my side, wincing slightly in discomfort; this new tenderness brought to the forefront my more painful conflict. The low groan that he had uttered as he had entered me sounded in my ears once more. Just the memory of it was starting to make me hard. I could almost still feel him inside me because of the soreness. What did it mean? Was I gay? When Ethan had explained this new life to me, he had said that it was purely a sexual relationship. Would I ever have a normal relationship again?

Finally, the sun rose, and I had an excuse to escape my thoughts. Grabbing a towel, I walked into the bathroom. It was surreal; everything was the same as the day before - everything but me. I felt like a completely different person, a person I didn’t know. That feeling only intensified when I removed the leather wrist cuff Ethan had given me as a physical token of my subservience. He had said that generally subs wear collars as a sign of their commitment, but that he preferred to be a little more subtle. The black leather cuff was embossed with his family crest, a sign of his possession. The only time I was allowed to remove it was to bathe, or to treat it. I set it carefully on the countertop, and got into the shower.

For a moment, as I stood beneath the spray, I felt like a weight had been lifted, free of the restraint of the cuff, I was Jayden Lee Carter again. I felt like a man, like my own man again. I couldn’t explain, even to myself, the feelings of emasculation brought about by just the memory of that room. Something had been taken from me during my time there, but in the back of my mind, I knew that much more had been given. I did not make this decision lightly, and I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward Ethan and his authority over my body. Then, the realization washed over me that I felt empty without his mark. I shook my head to dispel the image of him standing above me as I dropped to my knees to serve him. My erection was painful now, thinking about his masterful handling of me. It disturbed me that I didn’t even consider masturbating in the shower. Reducing the water temperature, I wondered at how with the utterance of three simple words of affirmation, my life had stopped being my own.

I stopped by the hospital so that Ethan could administer a physical exam and a series of tests for sexually transmitted diseases. He said that once the test results came back, I could be an active member of the local community, and he would also no longer need to use a condom. Then, I spent the rest of the day preparing for the next week’s courses. Sadly, even though I had midterms for the first few days, I often found my mind otherwise engaged as I kept going back to the decision I had made, the life I had chosen. That night, I started to feel a panic building in my chest as ten o’clock neared. Ethan was about to get off of a double shift at the hospital and would be home soon. When I realized that I couldn’t face him, I practically ran from the house, got on my bike and screeched out of the drive. Its wheels carried me to a club that I had frequented before moving in to the new house.

Walking into the bar, I nodded to get the bartender’s attention, a big man with large biceps under his muscle tee-shirt. Surprisingly, I was not at all attracted to him, even though he was nice looking; I had no real urge to look. I thought that in the world outside the house my attractions, my reactions would have changed. It made the feeling of being off-balance that much worse. If I wasn’t attracted to other guys, if I wasn’t gay, then why was I so turned on by Ethan? The bartender looked at me a little longer than necessary, and I found myself pulling my sleeve down over my new cuff, which felt huge on my wrist. It felt like a neon sign, like people could look at me and see what I had become. I ordered two Jack and Cokes and took them to a table in the back, away from the other patrons. Even though it wasn’t crowded, for a Sunday night, it was fairly steady.

“Hey handsome, where’ve you been?” I looked up and saw Jennifer, one of the regulars of the bar, standing above me. She was ordinary; a bob growing out of its shape framed her mousey face. Her small hazel eyes alight with that hungry, almost desperate stare she always fixed me with. It bothered me that I wasn’t sure that she was a welcome sight. After all, we had talked about hooking up several times, and the sex probably would have been good, we both knew it would be a casual thing, just something to fill the need. I thought maybe tonight, she would get her chance. Tonight, I may have something to prove to myself, but when she sat down next to me, and my eyes darted around the room she noticed my edginess.

“Are you alright, Jayden?”she asked with concern. I looked over at her and had the same feeling as I had had regarding the guy in the bar. I wasn’t all that attracted to her. That thought scared me more than I’ll admit.

Grabbing her around the waist, I pulled her into my lap. She squealed, but came willingly and put her arms around my neck as she sat sideways on my legs. At first, I kissed her automatically, my mind focusing on my body’s reactions. Then, an image came to my mind. This same girl over my lap instead of in it, her skirt pulled up and her panties down around her knees, and I started to get hard as I thought about spanking her. I moaned into her kiss, and felt her hand sneak down to my jeans, but before she could touch me, I grabbed her hand and pulled it behind her back. That movement pushed her breasts forward, and I could see that her nipples were hard. Retrieving her other hand from my hair, I pulled it behind her back as well. When I was able to capture both of her wrists in one hand, I felt powerful. It was like I was in control of myself for the first time in days. Moving my mouth from hers, I trailed kisses along her throat punctuating them with soft bites on her tender flesh as she moaned my name. My free hand moved to her blouse, and I rubbed her breasts with my palm. Again, she said my name. It was a high being in control of this writhing girl on my lap. I pinched her nipples hard through her shirt, first one then the other. She was struggling now, and her voice finally penetrated the haze in my mind.

“Jayden, Stop. Let me go,” she requested in a low frightened voice. I looked up at her face, and realized she was scared. Apparently, I had gone too far, and immediately, I felt ashamed. Releasing her at once, I set her in the seat next to me, and she wasted no time getting out of the booth and away from me. She didn’t even give me a chance to apologize for my actions. I polished off one of the drinks before slamming it down onto the table and putting my forehead on the table next to it, closing my eyes and trying to control the reeling from what just happened. Again, that feeling of isolation spread over me. There was no one I could talk to. I doubt that I could even bring myself to talk to Ethan about this. What if he said it wasn’t normal, even for his - no,
our
lifestyle?