By POW

The story so far…

Elias is a male dom looking for a reluctant sub. Owen is a reluctant sub because he’s a straight sub.

NOTE: This is part of a much longer story called “Dr. “NOOOO!!!” — and this chapter has been slightly altered to suit the Metalbond site. For the full story, click here, but be forewarned that the complete story, especially the end, features a female dom. If you’re interested in primarily male-on-male action, try the chapter below, as well as chapters 3 and 8 on POW’s site.

 

Dr. “NOOOO!!!” chapter 7 – Crag

 

Crag isn’t quite a bar and isn’t quite a club. It’s more of a co-op based in what used to be a manufacturing plant for railcar parts in the old industrial area of town. The members pool their resources to have a shared space for play and equipment and they host public events like tonight’s once a month. I’m not a member, so I pay the high guest rate when I visit, which is not all that often. I tend to hang out at the bars farther north in Edgewater when I’m looking for leather companionship, but I’ve visited Crag a time or two before. Great atmosphere – huge high ceilings, big rooms to play in with echoey concrete walls in a lot of them. A good dungeon vibe. And unlike the Edgewater bars, the focus here was not on drinks or conversation, but on getting physical. The money the co-op brought in was not to make a profit for a business but instead got reinvested into either the space or the gear.

I was dressed in my best: black leather from hat to boots, tight in all the places I wanted to show off like waist, biceps, and thighs. Short-sleeved lambskin shirt under a zip-front vest (unzipped) with a jacket over top, also open at the front now that we were inside out of the chill. Hunter boots down below and a biker cap on my head and I was looking every inch the alpha top.

Owen was wearing black leather gear as well, and his clothing was also tight, but not quite in the same way as mine. He was dressed in a leather straitjacket and his arms were crossed in front of his belly with the straps continuing around behind his back and more running under his crotch to keep those arms right where they were. Also tight was the head harness / muzzle he had on, which kept his mouth clamped firmly shut. His eyes were uncovered so he could see just fine, and there was no gag in his mouth so he could speak, but his words came out heavily muffled. On his legs he wore chaps with a pair of shorts over the top. He had asked me when I was helping him get dressed if I had gotten confused – shouldn’t the shorts go on first? No, I informed him, because the shorts will be coming off not too long after we get inside. Definitely chaps first. Completing the ensemble was a leash leading from his collar to my fist. Just in case there was any possible doubt as to which of the two of us was in charge.

The only tricky part came at the door when I handed my bag over to be inspected. I wanted to make sure Owen didn’t see one particular item so that it would be a surprise when the time came. I sent him on ahead to wait inside since he wasn’t carrying anything. The guy who searched the bag gave me a “seriously?” look with his eyes when he came across the item in question, but I just did the ambiguous-eyebrow thing that Arianne was so adept at in reply. He didn’t say anything out loud since it obviously posed no threat and so Owen remained blissfully unaware of its existence.

We got in the door and the music filled our ears. I was relieved to find that the volume was reasonable. It was loud enough to feel energetic and excited, but not so loud as to stop you from having a conversation, or hearing your sub groan when the whip hits his back. A good balance.

We left our outer gear in the coat room – that would be my jacket and Owen’s shorts, which I had to peel down off his legs for him because obviously he couldn’t do it himself. Then we went out into the main room, me striding confidently, him doing his best to pretend not to be uncomfortable about flashing a full moon and a dangling dick to a roomful of guys who were all too happy to appreciate the show. He definitely got some attention as we walked slowly around, him following wherever I pulled his leash. We wandered around checking out what was on offer, both in the main room and the smaller individual rooms further back, one of which I had a reservation for in about an hour’s time. There were flogging stations, slings, cages, gimps fastened to posts, guys bent over fuckbenches, boot blacks… you name it, it was happening. As usual, it was mostly gay men, but here and there was the occasional female form, or one that didn’t fit neatly into one category or the other. Every once in a while I would turn around to look at what might have caught Owen’s attention. The guy was no stranger to kink so I figured most or all of this gear would be familiar to him, but the largely single-sex nature of the people using it would be new.

Eventually we had seen everything there was to be seen for a first pass and I brought us back into the main room. I suspect he didn’t realize that at least five men propositioned him for sex during our fifteen-minute tour of the place. He didn’t realize they were asking; he didn’t speak the language.

Well, that was easily enough fixed. I led him over to a corner where we leaned against a concrete wall. “So, your first gay leather cruise night. What do you think?”

“I definitely feel out of place.” His words were a little fuzzy through the muzzle but I could understand him just fine.

“Of course. And yet you don’t look out of place at all.” I pointed out other men who were in a similar state as he was – a guy (fully dressed) down on his knees at his master’s side; a guy in nothing but a jockstrap and leather collar; another with dick swinging free just like Owen’s, only his was hard. There were even two others in straitjackets, one very much like the one Owen had on and the other made of pale canvas. “You look like you fit in just fine.”

“But everyone here wants what’s on offer, whereas I definitely don’t. I can only ever be a visitor to this culture, never a part of it.”

“True. A good environment to let your anthropologist side out to study the natives, then. However, unlike some pale European visiting the Brazilian rain forest who can never possibly be mistaken for a local, here you can easily pass if you want to. I don’t expect you’ll want to, but you should still learn the language. It’s easy. There’s only a few phrases and most of it is non-verbal. Watch a few with me and I’ll translate.”

It didn’t take long. “There,” I said, nodding but not pointing. “Those two, the guy in the red hat and the one coming toward him. Watch as they pass each other.”

The two men I had pointed out were walking toward each other, the red-hatted one with his chest mostly exposed by his vest, the other in a tight grey T-shirt. They passed, then both turned around to face each other again, and then they started walking together toward one of the smaller rooms in the back.

“That was ‘want to have sex?’ accompanied by ‘sure’.”

Owen watched as the two disappeared around a corner. “Do they know each other?”

“Probably not. I mean, they might have seen each other around before, but they probably aren’t close buddies.”

“How…”

“Eye contact. If you see someone you like, you meet his eyes as you walk past. If he likes what he sees, he meets your eyes as well.”

“What? But I, when I was walking around a few minutes ago I was looking all around and I’m sure I made eye contact with several guys. Did every single one of them think I was asking him for sex?”

“No, there’s more to it. An ‘I want you’ eye contact lasts a long time, a lot longer than an ‘I acknowledge you exist’ eye contact. And the turn-around after passing made it clear for those two. If one or both hadn’t been interested, he wouldn’t have turned around. Since both turned, it was clear they wanted each other. It can also be communicated by touch, a hand on a shoulder or an ass while passing. As for you during our stroll, I counted five guys who would have happily taken you to a back room right that moment, but don’t worry. You didn’t accidentally offend anyone because the leash made it clear that you were not in a position to decide yes or no on your own. I said no for you. For now, at least, because your ass is mine tonight. How’s it feel to be a desired sex object, stud? A roomful of guys all eager to take you for a ride.” I squeezed his bare ass cheek to hammer the thought home for him.

Owen was flustered and his face reddened a bit. Gawd, I loved it! So uncomfortable in what was for me a warm and familiar environment. “But… it’s really that easy? Those two didn’t even talk to each other. How do they know what they’re going to do, I mean, who’s going to… which one will…”

“Top and bottom are probably the words you’re looking for. If you want to avoid the word ‘fuck,’ I mean.”

“Yeah. They couldn’t have worked that out in five seconds of eye contact. Could they?”

“They did. A lot of it is posture and attitude and dress. I’m guessing that the one with the red hat is probably going to top and the one in the grey shirt is probably going to bottom. But I could be wrong. And there are definitely times when you cruise someone and you guess wrong and end up with two tops or two bottoms and neither one is willing to switch roles. When that happens, you have a good laugh and move on. That brings us to the third useful phrase, which is ‘no, thanks,’ and that one you already know. If you don’t want someone, don’t lock eyes with him, and if he’s coming on to you by touch, keep it light and casual. ‘Ah, no thanks, man.’ No offense will be taken. It’s that simple.”

Owen and I watched as a couple more invitations played out. Two went nowhere – one guy turned around after a pass but the other didn’t. A third was a match. Owen saw the whole interaction from start to finish and was amazed at how little time it took.

“Two total strangers encountered each other and in less than ten seconds agreed to have sex.”

“Yup. Not how it works in the straight world, is it?”

He laughed. “Hell no! Those guys don’t know anything about each other. Not even their names!”

“And they probably won’t. You’ve got your Mistress, so I’m guessing you’ve been out of the dating pool for a while, and I’ve never been in it, but my understanding is that straight guys either have to get extremely lucky on a hookup app or else invest hours of conversation and possibly multiple dinner dates to get to the point those two just did. It’s a different world here in this all-boys club. So… which one do you think is going to top?”

Owen pondered a bit and then said, “The guy in the hat?”

“Yeah, I’d agree. Why?”

“The way he was standing made him look larger.” I thought that was a good way to read the situation.

Just then a man came up dressed in obvious sub clothing, a rubber vest and pants and a fairly open rubber hood with big round holes for eyes and nose-mouth combo. “Excuse me, sir, please pardon the interruption, but do either you or your slave require service?” With that, he bowed his head, cast his eyes to the floor, and tucked his hands behind his back.

This was unexpected! But perfect timing. I glanced over at Owen who was clearly waiting for me to take charge of responding, so I did. I put my hand under the sub’s chin and lifted his head up. “Well, boy, as it turns out, I do. My captive here – ” I emphasized the word to make the correction clear “– is straight and I have so far been unable to get his dick hard.” True… I had never tried. “I wonder if you might be able to get him to stiffen up? Hands only for now.”

Rubberboy didn’t need to be told twice. He went down on his knees and started working on Owen’s dick and balls. I was very curious whether he’d be able to get results. He worked for a few minutes while I watched Owen standing there, totally out of his element, maybe trying to cooperate in the boy’s effort to get him hard but not quite sure. While the rubber guy worked, I was able to talk in Owen’s ear where the boy couldn’t hear over the music.

“And sometimes the proposition is even more direct than eye contact. Sometimes they walk right up and blatantly throw themselves at you.”

He replied; making conversation probably wasn’t getting his dick hard any faster. “You didn’t set this up? This wasn’t planned?”

“Nope. I don’t even know this guy, never saw him before. I hear that when straight guys learn just how easy it is to get laid when you go gay, more than a few of them convert.” No they don’t. And I’m sure Owen knew it. But it was fun to imagine anyway. “And the ones that don’t get extremely and frustratedly jealous. Now, in a few minutes I plan to tell him he can use his mouth. My understanding with Arianne is that that’s okay as long as there’s no fluid exchange, but if you feel differently, now is the time to opt out.”

He shook his head, then realized that was ambiguous and said “it’s alright.”

“Good. I don’t expect it’ll get to that point but just in case: do not shoot, is that clear, boy?”

“Yessir.” Then he caught himself. “Sorry!”

Instead of reminding him not to call me “sir” I gave him another Arianne Eyebrow Special and hoped he read it as “it’s fine this once, but don’t make a habit of it” but if all he caught was “the boss is annoyed, better watch out” that was alright too.

Several minutes in, Owen’s dick was slightly swollen but far from hard. The rubberboy was starting to get distressed.

“Hey, boy, you’re making progress. Maybe try using your mouth now, see if that can get this straight cock to wake up.” He went at it with gusto, sucking Owen’s dick inside and pulling hard. His fingers kept working Owen’s balls. Owen closed his eyes and I could see he was trying to will himself into the right mindset for an erection. I caught sight of a second subbish-looking fellow and beckoned him over. The rubberboy paused when he felt the new guy hovering over him and looked up. Owen opened his eyes at the interruption as well; I checked the state of his dick and saw that things were progressing but we still weren’t there yet.

“You feel like helping out here? My rubber friend and I are trying to get this straight boy’s dick hard, but he’s not cooperating. You feel like playing with his nipples, maybe try to help things along?”

“I’m in!” he replied. I unzipped the strategically-placed flaps on the straitjacket so that the new guy would have the access he needed, then moved myself around behind Owen. Now he was leaning against my body instead of the wall, and I was certain he could feel my own erection growing against his backside. I started stroking his head and neck, using my hands to both caress and press and nuzzling my face against his neck. Nice raspy stubble on my cheeks and chin, not at all like the smooth feminine flesh he would prefer to feel.

Meanwhile, rubberboy was going to town on his dick with renewed enthusiasm while the new guy was squeezing and tweaking his tits through the open flaps. I ran my hand down Owen’s back to his ass and squeezed there, too, teasingly poking toward his hole but never quite fully getting there. Owen, for his part, seemed to give in. Maybe he was imagining lady parts, I didn’t need to know or care what he was thinking about, but between us all, it worked. I glanced around and down at the rubberboy’s lips and saw a fully-erect dick revealed when the rubberboy was on his backstroke. It was the first time I’d seen Owen’s dick hard. A nice, respectable endowment, sure to attract all sorts of attention he had no interest in.

I let things go a few minutes, then broke the action off.  “Thank you, boys.  You’ve done a terrific job.  Stand back and take a look at your accomplishment.”  The new guy backed up and the rubberboy stood up and there was Owen, cock pointed straight at us and doing a jaunty little bounce as he shifted his weight around, still muzzled, still stuck in the straitjacket and clearly uncomfortable being the focus of three lustful males’ attention.  Probably also uncomfortable at how he had been obviously getting into the sensations ten seconds earlier.

I turned to the rubberboy.  “What’s your name?”

“Bryson, sir.”

“Well, Bryson, you managed to get straight-boy’s dick here to come to full attention. Nice going. How about you, son, what’s your name?”

“Andrew,” the nipple-tweaker responded, then added a hasty “sir”. It always rubs me wrong to be called that, but it’s the culture in places like this so I roll with it. Andrew was a thin fellow with only a token leather wristband. The rest of his clothes were normal daywear: white T-shirt, blue jeans, sneakers. His thin build made him look young, too young to be in a place like this but the door staff seemed pretty on the ball and were no doubt well-trained at spotting fake IDs, so he had to be of legal age. I suspect it’s more that I’ve gotten old enough that 20-somethings now look like kids to me.

“Great. I’m Master Elias, and my straight-boy captive for the evening is called Owen. Or Doctor McAllister, as he is known to the students at the school where he teaches. I also like to call him Doctor NOOoooOOO! because he says that word a lot when I’m working him over and I love to hear him say it. I’m borrowing him tonight from his lady friend to give him a tour of how we do things here on the other side of the tracks. Later on I’m planning on giving him a good thrashing, then unloading my dick inside his guts, and I would sure enjoy having an audience to help him feel extra humiliated while that happens. You boys up for joining in?”

Yep. They sure were. Enthusiastically so. I turned my attention back to Owen, whose dick was slowly deflating.

“Of course, he seems to be feeling a little humiliated right now, but I bet we can make things a whole lot worse for him.  At least we’re gonna try, am I right?”

Bryson and Andrew, my new pair of devoted acolytes, gave a mighty “yes SIR!” and were thoroughly on board. I told them to meet me at 11:00 – 45 minutes away – right here and we’d get started. The boys wandered off.

“How you doing, Doctor No?”

“Okay so far. You, uh… you’re really going to, uh, use me as you just told those two you would?”

“I am indeed. As I planned out with your lovely lady friend. You, my boy, are first going to find yourself turned into a punching bag. I am going to work that gut of yours over with my fists. And then I am going to turn you around and let a friend of mine demonstrate his flogging skills on your back. I understand you’ve had some experience with flogging but Peter is the best in the business. I suspect this will be another level beyond anything you’ve done before. And after that I am going to rig you up in a sling and split your ass like a piece of firewood. All in front of an audience of horned-up men who will drool over your bound-up body and appreciate your suffering as much as I will. Bonus points for all of us if you make it clear that you’re hating every minute of it.”

“I will definitely not need to fake that.”

“Indeed. To be clear, right now I expect you to obey orders like the submissive you love to be. But once the scene starts, and you’ll know when that is, I would appreciate your full, active resistance. Just like we did in the woods. I don’t want you to offer yourself to me, I want to take you by force. I will make sure you stay safe and unharmed, but I will also make sure you suffer. Clear?”

He nodded, perhaps not trusting his voice to be steady.

“Good. Feeling a little bit nervous?”

“Oh yes.”

“Even better. Make sure you show that when the time comes. That might make the ass-splitting portion go slightly faster.”

“Understood, s…” To his credit, he stopped himself before saying it. Good boy. It was a strange feeling, talking about the beating and fucking I would be administering to the victim himself. Very strange. Different from those talks I would have with Riley when we were setting up capture-and-interrogation scenes, because as much as Riley would protest while the scene was playing out, we both knew he was just as into it as I was. This was something else. This was like having a chat with a cow before it becomes your cheeseburger.

“One other question… tonight will be the first flesh-and-blood dick in your ass, correct?”

“Right. I’ve had toys up there before, but not the real thing.”

“Okay, good. Then you know how to minimize the discomfort of entry; make like you’re pushing something out. Remember that for later because I won’t remind you then. After all, I’m here to get off on your pain and your discomfort and your disgust. If you want to make it worse for yourself, I certainly won’t stop you.” I gave him a solid whack to the shoulder to prevent him from having to reply.

“All right. Time for you to practice picking up men. We’ve got two bystanders lined up for later, and Peter will be there to administer your flogging and he’s bringing a date, so that’s four. I’d like at least one more, two would be better, and I would like you to pick them out.” I began releasing him from the straitjacket and muzzle. “You’re getting the full gay experience tonight, which means inviting anonymous strangers to witness your upcoming not-quite-rape-but-pretty-damn-close-to-it. Use whatever criteria you want, but they must be male. Want a bear or a leather daddy type? Great, go find one. Want a twinky sub to watch your takedown instead? Okay by me. Whoever you pick, though, make sure he understands that the only one who’s going to be fucking your ass is me. I promised your Mistress I’d make sure no one else gets to violate that hole.”

We eventually got him out of the straitjacket, leaving him bare-chested with only the chaps on his legs. He looked at the crowd, looked back at me leaning against the wall, then looked out at the crowd again. Then took a deep breath and off he went. I watched as he made his way along. He got cruised twice and both times averted his eyes almost comically quickly… and then the second time changed his mind and turned around to find the guy had turned as well and was gazing at him right around waist level. They came together; I couldn’t hear what was said but I saw Owen gesturing at me and the guy looked my way. Then they parted and Owen went back to roving. The dude must have been looking for something more immediate and hands-on.

After that I lost sight of him. I figured I’d let him roam for up to ten minutes. Didn’t want the boy to wander too long on his own. I had no fear he’d try to sneak out, not dressed like that. Besides, his Mistress would make him pay if he bailed, of that I was certain. But I did want to make sure he didn’t get too lost in this strange place full of strange people. I stowed the straitjacket and muzzle in my bag while he was gone.

Turned out there was no need to chase him down. Back he came a couple of minutes later with not one but two men in tow… and I knew one of them! Not well, just a casual acquaintance. I pretended we had never met and he did the same.

“Master Elias, these men would like to watch you abuse and humiliate me later if that is acceptable to you.” Dang, well done, Owen! Nice turn of phrase, addressing me respectfully but in a way I couldn’t object to since that’s what I myself had told Bryson and Andrew to call me. Smartass bastard.

“Nice to meet you guys.” I shook hands with the guys and learned they were Chris (the one I had met before) and his friend Azzat. I couldn’t quite get a read on whether they were a couple, a couple-for-the-evening, or just happened to be standing near each other when Owen approached them. Didn’t really matter. We chatted a bit about what would go down later. I made sure to mention that we had Owen’s lady’s consent and thus Owen’s as well, and he confirmed it.

“So yeah, that’s the rough outline. Gutpunching, a good flogging, and then I’ll be sticking my prong into this straight boy’s tight little ass.” I grabbed the ass in question and gave it a good hard squeeze. I was so busy concentrating on gauging Chris and Azzat’s reactions and potential interest level that I almost missed what Owen said.

“If he can get it up.”

By the time I parsed his words and the meaning sank in and I whipped my head around to look at him, he was just finishing up a broad “you know how it is” nod toward Azzat. Pursed lips and an almost pitying look in his eyes.

I took a step closer to him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pivoted him so I was standing behind him, facing toward our new friends with my arm wrapped around his throat. “Very funny, Doctor No,” I said from right behind his ear, loud enough for the others to hear. “You know I love when you get sassy with me. And you know I love making you pay the price for your sass, so I’m sure you took that into account when deciding to make that clever remark to our new friends here. I think it’s only fair these fine new friends should also get to help me take that price out of your hide later on, don’t you?” I grabbed his hair with my free hand and nodded his head forcibly up and down. “That’s right, doc, good boy,” I said as I let him go.

To the others I said, “OK, meet us back here at 11, half an hour, and we’ll get the show started. Right now I’m going to go help Owen get cleaned out before we begin.”

They headed away and I turned to Owen, who was looking a whole let less cocky. In fact, he seemed a little green around the gills, like he just swallowed a bug. “I’m impressed,” I told him. “I didn’t think you had a wisecrack like that in you.”

He didn’t reply right away. When he did it was a mumble almost too soft to hear over the thumping bass, his eyes gazing down at the floor. “I can’t believe I actually said that out loud. What the fuck was I thinking?”

“Hey, doc. Look at me.” It took him a couple of seconds, but he did. “I like the lip. I’d like to see you keep bringing the lip. Remember we’re working on two levels here, the in-scene and the meta-scene. In-scene I’m going to punish you for sassing me, but meta-scene you and I both know I was always going to thrash you anyway. The sass is just an excuse.”

“This is not how I normally behave. I’m sorr–”. I put my hand up.

“No apologizing. You behave a certain way around your Mistress and that works for the two of you. But I want something different from you and you know it. It’s new to you and therefore uncomfortable, but you had no trouble giving me grief when Bingo was tearing my shoelaces apart, right? Go ahead and keep giving me grief. I like it.”

He took a moment, then nodded and seemed to get control of himself. After another half minute or so I beckoned him on and we headed off to the restrooms.

“Does ‘cleaned out’ mean what I suspect it means?” he asked when we were nearly there.

“If you suspect it means ‘enema’, then yes, you win a nice, gooshy prize.” Not strictly necessary before a butt-fucking, but a courtesy to the top and anyway, he was here for the whole gay experience. “Is this your first?”

“No, I’m familiar with them.”

“Good, good.”

As we entered the men’s room, Owen was a bit surprised to see a hooded man chained to one of the urinals with a funnel protruding from the hood, but he didn’t let it flummox him. Just one more weird creature here in Wonderland. No one was actively having sex, at least, which is never something you can take for granted.

I sent him into a stall with some wipes, a bulb, and a cup of warm water from the sink. Told him to clean the outside first, then repeatedly squirt, hold, and empty until the water came out clear, then tidy the exterior once more. Took him about ten minutes, during which time I made a brief exit to check out the room I’d arranged for – all in order. Back to the restroom where I hung around outside Owen’s stall while the human urinal got used twice. I emptied my own bladder, as well. Into porcelain. That other thing is not my kink.

Owen came out of the stall, tossed the wipes, cleaned the remaining gear, and handed it to me to stow in my bag. Then we went back to our waiting spot, slowly, stopping in various side rooms to take in the sights, sounds, and smells as we went. Ahh, leather heaven! By the time we got back, three of our posse were waiting for us and Andrew showed up two minutes later. I knew Peter and his date were in position because I had seen them there on my brief visit. All was ready.

Showtime.

Metal would like to thank POW for sharing this chapter of Dr. “NOOOO!!!”

To read the entire story, which features themes of female domination, click here.