I played with this idea before, but only after reading a post of Bondagefreak under story requests was I prompted to sit and type it out.
My hope is that this will be classified as a lifetime story. This story will stretch me as I try to keep things as 'real life' as a fiction story can go (contrast to my other stories you can tell I usually only have one foot on reality).
The story is a little close to home, as much as it is fiction it is also my personal aspirations. I hope some of this translates from the story.
And finally I also just want to have fun... so in the words of Peter Pan 'Here we Goooo, off to neverland'
I flicked my thumb over my cell phone, scrolling down the list in my messenger app.
Where was his thread?
I kept scrolling down, ah, found him. Dean, we haven’t messaged in three weeks. Is that how long it took me to find my balls. I hadn’t realized that much time had passed.
I hope he is still available, I open the chat and reread his last message.
Are we finally gonna do it for real.
And reread my response.
A one worded response, I was such an idiot.
I started typing a new message, deleted it, retyped it, and deleted it again. I must have tried at least seven times before settling with.
Hey Dean. Let’s do this, I am ready if you are.
That was good, to the point and clear. I was working on my assertiveness.
Within seconds the little ellipse came on my screen meaning he was typing a response. Shit, I thought I would have some time before he replied. Get it together Will, you can’t be this squirmy if you want to be a dom, I spoke to myself in third person like I do so many times a day.
Beep. Dean’s message came in.
Hells yeah. I have been checking my phone every day waiting for you. How do you want to do this?
How did I want to do this? Shit, suddenly the idea became reality and my balls were lost again. I took a deep breath and focused, I had thought about this so often it was gonna be a piece of cake.
Get your butt to my place. When will you be coming over?
I can be there in an hour.
I replied, great, closed the app and locked my screen dropping my phone onto my chest where I was lying on my couch. I closed my eyes, this is happening for real. I felt a little light headed with excitement, but I was ready. I had done some reading. Dean and I had been texting for almost a year now and we had grabbed beers a couple of times. We just never went for the real life experience yet.
I find myself wandering around my apartment unable to sit still or get my mind off of what’s coming, the seconds drag by. Ten minutes, thirty, fifty. My stomach is filled with butterflies.
I check the mirror to make sure I look fine, my light brown hair cut short, my grey almost blue eyes belied my jittery mood. I was dressed in running shorts and a slim fitting t-shirt. The running short pulled slightly tight over my thighs, the slim fitting t-shirt also spanned across my pecs, hanging a little loose across my slim waist. I was very proud of my build, not a hunk, not a twink, something in-between.
One hour had passed, the time had come! I was sitting on the edge of my couch, twirling my phone in my hand.
Another ten minutes passed, fifteen, twenty. The jitters started subsiding, I lay back onto the couch throwing my ankle socked size 10 feet on the armrest, berating myself for going through with this. I should have left well enough alone.
I open my messenger.
You still coming?
No response not even ellipses, not even a read receipt.
The nervousness was quickly being replaced by anger and frustration. For the near hundredth time I got up the couch and paced in my apartment. Half an hour, that is still late it’s not a no show yet.
The sound startled me and my phone buzzed in my hand. It was the buildings main door, I answered.
“Hey Will, its Dean.”
“Ok, I’ll buzz you in. Take the elevator to the second floor, apartment 26.” I pressed the button to let him in.
My emotions were a swirling mess right now, excitement, frustration, happy, angry… I needed to get a grip on myself. A last look in the mirror. You can do this Will. I felt the storm calm down.
There was a knock on the door.
This is it. I opened the door, and there was Dean.
His body slightly larger than mine, he would be considered a hunk in the online world. His black mop of curly hair was styled earlier in the day but was quickly losing its composure. His green eyes and Middle Eastern looks were exactly what I ordered.
“Hello.” I detected that well-hidden accent.
“Hi” we shook hands, “come on in.” I was a little taken aback at the reality of things.
He walked in and dropped a little duffle bag in the foyer.
“This is a nice place,” he muttered as he passed into the living area. It was a spacious two bedroom apartment with a kitchen, dining room and living room. Slightly above my salary class but I had a big nest-egg that my late grandpa left me.
“You are late boy.” I stated not interested in small talk. Reality had set in and my predisposition took over.
“Oh, are we starting already?”
“What do you mean are we starting? You are so late?” I wasn’t in an either or mode, I was just being myself. “You had me waiting on you, you should be waiting on me.” There was a slight demand in my voice that I didn’t know I had.
Dean’s charming smile disappeared. “I’m sorry man.”
“Man? I’m not your man,” I uttered the words before I even thought about it.
“I’m sorry, sir?” the last word sounded unsure, spoken after a short pause.
“That’s better.” My mind suddenly arrived at the scene which till now had been controlled by my instincts. I had to keep face. “How will you repay me for the last half hour spent waiting for you?”
“I, I don’t know? Will are you OK?”
I could detect that Dean was a little unsure of what was going on. We had logged hours of online role playing, trying different scenarios, trying different styles. Sure we talked about it, but it was always like stepping out of yourself and into a different roll.
But here and now, I wasn’t portraying some alter-ego, I was genuinely upset at my would be toy for making me wait, me Will, not some fantasy construct.
“I am fine Dean. I just need to know how you are going to make this up to me. I have a suggestion but I want you to think about it for a while.” I locked eyes with him and a staring contest ensued.
His eyes darted between mine and finally he looked down. “I don’t know sir.”
I realised the wind was taken out of his sails, he had been so energetic a mere minute ago, and now he looked depressed and honestly taken aback at my small eruption.
Should I push more, every second passing my adrenaline settled down and I felt insecurities returning. Wondering if I was going in too strong. I recalled conversations I had online, I knew if I backed down now, Dean would never take me serious again, I was in this and had to get out the other side.
“That’s right, you don’t know. I do the thinking, and you do the pleasing. Now present yourself like we have always said you would. I hope you came ready.”
“no.” almost inaudibly.
“What was that?”
“No, sir. I am not ready, I need to change still.”
“Let me get this right, you are late and you need more time. That’s no good, boy. I guess we will have to proceed with what we have. Present yourself.”
Dean slowly pulled off his green hoody, followed by his white shirt, revealing his olive torso, the muscles he sculpted in the gym through many hours of sweat. I really liked that. In my mind I needed a sub that was stronger than me – but would never want to go against my will – that was the hold I was craving.
Dean fulfilled perfectly, his 1.9m body was a packed up meat rack. I swallowed some drool that was forming in my mouth.
He pulled off his sneakers revealing white crew socks, and pulled off his jeans. He got down on his knees, in his blue polka dot briefs, not the black jockstrap that we had agreed would be his attire. He placed his hands in the small of his back. He was in the position we had discussed so frequently but never thought would become reality.
I stepped closer and softly caressed his cheek, “that’s a good boy.” I ruffled his thick black hair a little.
I looked down and saw his briefs swelling, because of my touch.
“Isn’t that a little premature” I joked as I lifted my foot cradling his bulge with my toes. “At least one part of you came ready for action.”
I walked around him. Grabbed the ropes I had laid out and returned to my kneeling boy. All the anger and frustration had reverted to the original feelings of excitement as I ogled my pet where he was kneeling.
I grabbed his wrists. This was the next test, I had watched numerous bondage tutorials. Would any of them have prepared me for the real deal? I was about to find out.
As I went for the wrists I remembered don’t start there. I wrapped about three loops around his torso and upper arms, then two more loops below his pecs but this time only around his chest not his arms too. I found the bight where I started and prepared to make a simple square knot. More about tension and less about knots I reminded myself, I went through my loops pulling out any slack that might have built up and proceeded with the knot.
I split the two strands and placed one across each of Dean’s shoulders, looped them through the lower strands that were spanned across his chest and returned them to his back on either side of his neck. Another square knot, and tie it off double.
The remaining rope I feed between his folded wrists and his back, his two long back muscles brushing against my almost shaking hands. I pull up and two things happen, his forearms lift, and his biceps strain against the already tight loops, I pull a little more and hear a small groan escaping Dean’s mouth, his arms were almost forming a box behind his back. I looped his wrists a couple times and made a knot before heading to those first loops to cinch it off between his thick biceps and his torso. It was tricky getting the rope through his armpits but I managed.
I stood back to take in my masterpiece, and was appalled, there was none of that symmetry I always see on the videos, my ropes criss-crossed like a drunk spider, and I had worked so meticulously.
Oh well, I hope it’s at least effective.
“tes..” my voice was gone, I cleared my throat, “test the ropes buddy?”
Dean wiggled his fingers and twisted his torso.
I watched in anticipation. My friends muscles flexed and strained against the little bit of rope I had applied.
“Would you get free if you have to?”
I noticed a silence. He was contemplating what an honest answer would mean.
“You can speak the truth.”
“I think so Will. I can feel my wrists might be able to wiggle loose.”
“Ugh,” I let out a slightly frustrated growl, “I thought it would be easier. I’ll just add some more rope to your wrists.” I grabbed a much shorter length of rope and wrapped it around Deans already bound wrists.
As I cinched it and made the knot, I replayed his answer in my mind. He called me Will, not Sir and I let it slide. Too late now. I will have to be more attentive from now on.
I walked back to his front. Oh that looks neat, the front part of Dean’s harness looked way better than the back. The two bands of rope outlined his biceps, they bulged up slightly more than usual.
I felt a little thirsty and made my way to the kitchen, glancing back at my bound hunk. Only now did I notice the raging boner that I had. I grabbed a glass of water and headed back to my waiting boy.
“Having fun, Dean?”
“Mm-hm.” He replied, and looked into my eyes again. “I really am sorry I came late.”
My first thought was to reprimand him for talking out of turn, but I bit my tongue, “I know you are buddy, and that’s why you will pay for it, and refer to me once more without my title and the punishment will become more severe.” I saw a hint of a smile as he nodded affirmative, “Excuse me?”
“Good now about that punishment.”