Interested in exploring your kinkier desires? Hadrian Temple’s got just the book for you!
Adam Fassbender is an experienced leather dom living in San Francisco, but there’s something missing from his life, a permanent slave. When he meets a police officer who’s curious about submission, Adam realizes that Riley might be the slave he’s been looking for. But can Adam teach Riley how to overcome his fear of submission and help him become the slave Riley craves being?
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As I stepped back from the door, he stepped in right away. He knew this was what he wanted.
“So let’s get the unsexy part over right away. I’m neg, got tested a couple weeks ago. I don’t bareback, unless I’m training the boy and know where he’s been. You?”
“Uh, neg. I got tested a few months ago, but I haven’t been with anyone since then.” There was something he wasn’t saying, but I was pretty sure he was telling me the truth.
“You know what a safe word is, boy?”
“Yes, sir. I heard you explaining it today, and I’ve read about them online a little.”
“Good. Tonight’s safe word is ‘red’. If you need me to stop what I’m doing, you say that, and I’ll stop and make sure you’re ok. Understood?”
“Say it right, boy. Yes, sir.” It’s important not to let the little mistakes slide the first time.
“That’s better. Because if I don’t hear that word come out of your mouth, I’m gonna do whatever I fucking want to you, and I’ll get pissed off if you don’t follow my orders. Understood, faggot?”
He hesitated and then agreed.
I pointed toward the living room, just to the right of the entryway. I’d moved the coffee table out of the way so there would be a good space to work in. “Get in there and stand on the rug, facing the fireplace.” That put him with his back to me. I just stood there watching. He stood on the rug, let his hands hang anxiously at his sides, and then after fidgeting uneasily he hesitantly pulled them up behind his back. I waited a few more moments and then slowly circled round him, looking him over but not saying a word. That made him nervous. I enjoyed watching him worry. Finally I came to a stop in front of him, looking into his face.
“Look at you, the big bad cop. A real fucking stud.” I suddenly reached up and batted his cap off, hard enough that it hit the couch. He flinched. I’ve always wanted to do that to a cop, and it felt every bit as powerful as I’d thought it would.
“Now, let’s see what I get to work with.” I began to unbutton his shirt, not the easiest thing to do when you’re wearing gloves, but they were skintight police search gloves, so I knew I could do it. His torso slowly came into view and it was every bit as nice as I expected it to be. He was tall and lean. His pecs weren’t huge, but they were perfectly defined. His abs were similar. He must have shaved his chest a couple of days ago, because there was just a hint of stubble across it. I smiled my Predatory Dom smile.
“Very nice, boy! You work out a lot. I’ll bet you get lots of looks at the gym, wearing your tight Under Armour workout gear, don’t you?”
His dry mouth made it hard for him to respond for a moment. “Yes, sir.”
“And you like it that way, don’t you? You want the other guys checking you out.” That wasn’t a hard guess to make. Almost every gay guy who hits the gym that often likes being checked out. But again, it’s all about the illusion of mind-reading.
“Yes, sir. I do.”
Time for the educated guess. “And you know deep down in your heart that you’re supposed to look sexy for the real men all around you. You know you’re a sex object, a pretty boy for the pleasure of others.”
His eyes widened. “Y-yes, sir.” What he didn’t ask was, how does he know that?Because at least half of the buff subs I’ve played with think exactly the same way. Mind-reading established.That always made getting to the real interesting stuff easier, because now he thought there was no point in trying to hide it.
“Take off your gun belt, boy. You won’t need it.” It took him a bit to process the command, and then he started fumbling with it, unsnapping the belt keepers that held it attached to the belt on his pants. When he took it off, I motioned with my head and he dropped it near the couch. “Now the shoes.” Done. “Now the pants.” Done. He was wearing dark blue boxer briefs underneath, my favorite kind of underwear. He was hard.
I circled around him, admiring the way his boxer briefs snuggled his ass. I squeezed one cheek and leaned in. “Nice ass, boy. Perfect for fucking.” He got real still, always a good sign in a sub; it meant that he wanted me to go further. I reached around and spread his shirt open with my hands. The feeling of his tight, lean body pressed against my chest was very satisfying. Then I started running one forefinger over each nipple. He started breathing hard. “Yeah,” I whispered into his ear breathily. “You like that, don’t you, boy?” He started to answer but I cut him off. “Shut the fuck up. I don’t need an answer because I already know it. You faggots are all the same.”
I let go of him and then yanked down his briefs, and ordered him to step out of them. Then I moved around to the front. His cock was hard and wet. It was a nice cock, just about 6 inches long, straight, cut, with a clearly defined head. I ran my fingers over it, knowing that he was certainly enjoying the feeling of the leather on it. I stroked it gently, getting it nice and wet with his precum. Then I reached up and smeared it on his lips. He opened his mouth and I slid my fingers in. “You’ve got all the right instincts for a bitch. When something is put up to your lips, you just open up and take it in. Look at you, all turned on, with your cock sticking up unable to hide it. You’re not a real man, are you, boy?”
“…No, sir. I’m not.”
“You’re a pussyboy, aren’t you?”
He was silent, his face full of reluctance. “Answer me, boy.” He opened his mouth, but no sound came out except labored breathing. “Answer the question, faggot!” I said it more emphatically but not more loudly.
“Say it.” It’s one thing for a boy to be told he’s submissive. It’s a whole ‘nother thing to say it himself. But in my experience, every novice boy needs to say it. He didn’t. So I got up in his face. “Say it!”
He hung his head. “I…I’m a pussyboy, sir.”
I caressed his face with my hand. “Good boy! That wasn’t so hard, was it, boy?”
“No, sir. It’s just the truth, isn’t it? I’m a pussyboy.”
I slapped him, just hard enough to startle him. “I’m a pussyboy, sir.”
“Yes, sir. I’m a pussyboy, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“I’m proud of you, boy.” And I was. I kissed him. I think he was surprised that I was being gentle with him. He reciprocated and reached out to embrace me. I pulled back, and put on my Stern Dom face. “Boy, did I tell you you could touch me?”
He snapped back to a more rigid stance, and folded his arms behind him. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”
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About the author:
Unlike many of the authors who write about gay bdsm on Amazon, Hadrian Temple is a gay leatherman who has been exploring kink for more than a decade. He writes about sex and relationships the way gay men actually have them (with a healthy dose of fantasy, of course). He writes from the perspective of a dominant because that’s the role that appeals to him the most, and because so few other authors write from that perspective.