My story and originally published elsewhere. All characters are of legal age/18+.
This story is about dominance, cuckolding, chastity, being a houseboy, and consensual inequality. If that's not what you're into, move on to another story -- there's no need to express your disapproval of these dynamics and fantasies.
This chapter wraps up the honeymoon sequence with some vignettes and the big confession.
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So much more happened during our honeymoon on the private island. A lot of firsts, a lot of sexy stuff, and a lot of rough stuff. Most of our days fell into a comfortable routine, though. I catered to his every need, he played with me and used my body for several orgasms, and I was denied release. Part of me wondered whether life could really be like this. Could it be that Master Oliver enjoyed dominating, using, and humiliating me so much that his desire to bottom from time to time could take a back seat? Could our everyday life ever be like this? If so, how would we bring in money?
At that time, it didn't seem like this could be ever more than something for play time, not everyday life. How could I at this point have foreseen the tremendous changes that would take place in our lives in the next few years?
Anyway, it's impossible to talk about everything that happened in those two weeks there, and the chapters so far have already sketched a good picture. However, there were a few episodes I still wanted to tell you about. I'll just tell these in vignettes before I skip to the end of the honeymoon.
VIGNETTE 1
A few days after the day that I helped pay for the rental, I had finished cleaning the house and had started making dinner. As I said, most of it was a pleasant everyday routine; it almost felt like a regular domestic scene, if you ignored the nudity, chastity, and rough kink and sex scenes. Master Oliver came up behind me, at first just playfully teasing my pussy, kissing the back of my neck, and playing with my sensitive nipples as he asks me about what I'm making him (not us, him; I'm just generously allowed to share in his meal).
I tried to continue cooking, as I didn't want dinner to be late, but it was hard to concentrate. I answered him but also sounded a little annoyed, as I found it difficult to concentrate on both duties (cooking and being his bitch boy) at the same time.
"Sir, I'd like to continue cooking, please."
"What, you don't want my dick?"
"I need your dick, Sir. Just not right now."
Of course, as soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong answer. He swept my work area clean with one swoop and bent me over the kitchen counter. He pulled out his hard dick, yet part of me was still thinking about getting his dinner ready in time and the work it would be to clean up the mess.
What I should have been worried about, however, was that he was not reaching for any lube. As he pushed his big head roughly past my hole--still tight despite everything it had gone through over the last few days--I screamed in pain.
He growled: "Only obedient boys get lube."
It hurt like hell. He was rough and fucked me deep. I didn't think I had ever had such a painful fuck--yet, why did my cage feel so incredibly small at this time? As soon as that question popped up in my mind, I knew the answer. I always loved when he took control. I love it when he's aggressive and assertive, dominating. It's not so much that I love the pain itself, mostly I don't. I love how the pain makes me feel: small, submissive, used, dominated.
In tears, I told him: "I am sorry, Sir. I always want your dick. I was wrong to put my convenience before your need."
He painfully pulled my head back by my hair and make me look him in the eyes: "Yes, you were, boy. But, I do love seeing you in tears as I fuck you."
He moved in for a kiss, I opened my mouth, eager for his big tongue. But, instead he spat in my open mouth: "Naughty boys like you don't deserve tenderness. They deserve pain and humiliation."
"That's right, Sir! Thank you, Sir!"
He pushed my head against the cold, hard stone countertop and with deep grunts and a few last deep thrusts, he shot his load up my pussy.
This had been very much a quicky, yet it had been one of my hottest fucks ever. My legs had gone so weak from the intensity of the fuck that I fell to the floor as soon as he let go of me. He looked down at me and said: "You see, boy. This was just a quicky. I know what I'm doing; there's no need to second guess me. Had you just gone along, it would have even been quicker, because now you'll have to clean all of this up first. If you had just let me fuck you, you wouldn't have been far behind schedule."
"I am sorry for not having trusted your judgement, Sir. I should have known better. In the future, I will always remember that you know best, Sir."
"Now, clean yourself and the kitchen, and I still expect dinner to be on time."
