Date: Wed, 05 Dec 2018 03:23:58 +0000
From: destabilizer15 <destabilizer15@protonmail.com>
Subject: Young Lovers, Chapter 6

Author's Note: I'm grateful to those readers who've been kind enough to
send me messages of appreciation and encouragement.  You make feel
fulfilled, and keep me going.  Thank you.

Chapter 6

I decided I would take the next step with Joon right away.  I had eaten
breakfast by myself in my apartment instead of the cafeteria, wanting to be
alone with my thoughts.  I wondered what his state if mind would be after
he'd had time to reflect on all that had happened between us.  He had been
docile, thoughtful and utterly cooperative the night before, and subdued as
he left my apartment late that night for his own dorm.  But who knew what
his mood would be today?  Something told me his fiery nature wouldn't be
tamed in just one or two days.

Once I finished I called Joon's dorm.  The phone rang and rang, and I
realized the other boys would be in class by now.  But Joon should still be
there, I thought.  I let it keep ringing.  Finally the boy came on with a
toneless, "Yeah."

"Hello Joon."

"What do you want?!"  His voice was angry, defiant.

"Come over in five minutes."

"Fuck you," he snarled.  Then came a click.  He had hung up on me.

Fury surged through me, and I was about to storm out and over to his dorm.
But I got enough of a grip on myself to realize I needed to calm down a bit
and think.  Apparently a new day had brought a return to the old Joon --
angry and defiant.  Probably heterosexual today, I thought, smirking to
myself.  But I remembered that hot, hard organ of his there on
St. Stephen's.  Straight boys don't get hard when a man tries to fuck them.

I had gotten under his skin, I knew, and he didn't like it.  Well, too bad.
He sure as hell had gotten under my skin too.  It stirred something deep in
me to dominate him sexually on St. Stephen's, and then bond with him in the
shower and afterward.  I was sure I knew what he needed in order to cement
our sexual bond.  And I needed it too.  It might take him awhile to accept
it, I realized -- who knew how many more "fuck yous" there would be?  I
didn't care.

I also could already tell that we were sexually compatible.  I realized I
was discovering something new about myself: the intensity of my need to
dominate.  True, I had known that little wrinkle in my sexuality was there,
but I had never really acted on it.  And I had never felt its power, its
urgency.  Of course I have always been the older, stronger partner -- if
that weren't my thing I guess I wouldn't be into teenage boys.  But I had
never felt anything like the intensity of what I was feeling with Joon.  At
the same time, he seemed to be discovering a need to be dominated, which he
had apparently never really felt before either.

God I wanted him.  Now I would take it to the next level.  It was going to
be extreme.  I hoped I could handle better than I had . . . before.  I was
intensely horny for him now, my erection painfully cramped in my shorts as
I headed out and made my way up the little hill toward him.

As I approached the small dorm where the boys who played the Game stayed I
wondered if it would be locked.  It wasn't -- the handle turned and I let
myself in.  There was a dorm-style hallway with rooms leading off to the
right and left.  They all seemed empty.  I passed a little breakfast room
-- apparently the Game boys didn't have to abide by the strict dietary
limits the young lovers did.  Then I came to the last room on the right,
which I knew from my previous visit with Marco was Joon's.  The boy lay on
his unmade bed reading a book.  He looked up and his face darkened.

"Get the fuck out of here," he yelled, his face furious.

I entered the room, shut the door behind me, and began to take off my
clothes.  He watched me, glowering, and in a minute I was naked.

I stood still.  "I'm here to give you what you need."  I slowly jacked my
cock, staring at him.

We were silent for a moment.  Then I suddenly dove for him.  He writhed,
but I think I had taken him aback, and a split second of hesitation allowed
me to get a secure grip on him.  I grabbed him by the shirt front, lifted
him up, slammed him against the wall next to the bed, and pressed my lips
to his in a crushing kiss.  He squirmed and managed to ram a sharp elbow
into my ribs.  I winced but didn't loosen my grip, and in my rage slammed
him hard against the wall again, with my forearm across his throat.  I held
him there motionless and helpless for a minute.  Then I slapped my palm
into his groin, feeling for what I hoped was there.  It was.  Six inches of
steel.

Up to that moment I hadn't known if what he really felt with me was rage or
desire.  Now I realized it was both.  Although he seemed to need to hate me
and fight me, he also needed for me to dominate him.  He needed me to
win. I ground my lips against his again, holding him hard against the wall.

I suddenly stepped back, clutched his shirt front and ripped his shirt
open, buttons flying.  I then tore it off him, grabbed his T-shirt, and,
despite his flailing, was able to yank it over his head and off.  Standing
shirtless, pale and scrawny, he stared a split second, uncertain, and then
swung a punch.  I blocked it easily, picked him up, and threw him on the
bed.  He tried to bounce up, but I was on him in a flash.

I grabbed the waistband of his shorts and attempted to drag them off, but
he grabbed me and tried to shove me away.  I picked him up bodily, slammed
him down on the bed, and then slapped him hard.  Stunned, he was still for
just a second, long enough for me to pull his shorts down to his ankles and
off.  He came alive and kneed me in the chest, then twisted out of my
grasp.  I reached for him, grabbed his ankle and dragged him back to me.  I
grabbed his boxer briefs and pulled them down to his knees.  He twisted
around and just as he did I slapped him again, then tugged the briefs off
so he was naked except for his socks.

I jerked him to his feet but I didn't grip him quite tightly enough, and he
snatched his arm away and dashed from the room.  I was a step behind and
grabbed him as he passed the little kitchenette next to his room.

I picked him up and slammed him down on a small table in the little eating
area.  As he struggled, a salt shaker and napkin holder went flying, then
some unwashed dishes and utensils crashed to the floor.  I held him down
hard with my hand around his throat, glaring at him and breathing hard.  He
was still.  Defeat was in his eyes.

Then I slowly reached forward, cupped one hand around his left buttock, and
squeezed the little muscle.  He swallowed and held my gaze.

"What do you need me to do?" I finally asked quietly.

He was silent.

"That `fuck you' you gave me?  It's really a `fuck me!'  Isn't it?" I
demanded.

Emotions surged over his face.

My rage had vanished now that I controlled him.  Instead I felt compassion
for him in his obvious turmoil.  "I'm not gonna force you to say it," I
said, softening my voice suddenly.  "You've got to say it when you're
ready."

When he finally spoke his voice was hoarse, his face slack.  "I guess I
need you to fuck me."

Wow.  What guts this kid had.

I concealed my admiration.  "You GUESS?"

"Fuck, I need it!"  He sounded disgusted with himself.

"How, Joon?  How should I fuck you?  Look at what you need."

Silence.  He shook his head in resignation.  "I need you to fuck me hard,"
he answered.  His voice was almost a whisper, but he held my gaze.  I
realized I respected the hell out of this kid's fearlessness, his
intensity.

"Yes. You've been thinking about this, haven't you?"

He nodded.

"This is all new for you."

He nodded again.

Then I pushed his knees back to his ears.

"Hold them, bitch!" I barked.  He complied.

Next to the table was a counter and on the counter was a tub of butter
still left out from somebody's dinner.  With two fingers I scooped up a
hunk of the soft butter and slapped it against his asshole and roughly
rubbed it in.  I sharply dragged him forward until his tailbone was at the
edge of the table.  With no further prelude I put my cock against his hole,
and as I gritted my teeth and stared into his eyes I slowly impaled him.  I
went in inch by inch, not rushing, not stopping, seeing his face contort in
pain, feeling him spasming and then trying to relax, hearing his groans,
still driving in, feeling him writhe and gasp, until finally I was all the
way in.  Pain and surrender were in his face.

I pulled nearly all the way out.

"Ahhhh," he cried.

"Yeah, bitch."

I paused with just the head of my cock in him.  "Do you need it Joon?"  I
asked, my voice a bit shaky.

He paused to catch his breath.  His eyes wavered, then locked onto mine.

He looked beaten, resigned.  "You know I do," he breathed.

"I'll take it out if you want!"

"No."

"You sure?  What do you want me to do?"

A pause.  "Fuck me!"

"Wait -- you actually WANT me to fuck you?"

His face was suddenly fierce. "YES!" he yelled defiantly, His cock curved
up against his belly, deep pink and hard.

"Then here it is!" I cried, and with all the force I could muster I slammed
into him to the hilt.  He screamed, and I began roughly fucking him as hard
as I could.  A couple of times I even raised him partially up off the table
and then slammed him down against it as I fucked into him.  More dishes
flew, and he yelled as I drove into him again and again.

"AHH, Ahh, YEAH!  Take it bitch!  Take it!" I yelled as my climax neared.
I penetrated the hot fist of his rectum again, then leaned forward and
clutched him to me.  He wrapped his arms around me and gasped.  I withdrew
and rammed in again and again and again.  He moaned and panted.

Hearing his moans I decided I really wanted to fuck the cum out of him.  I
had already learned he could cum by getting fucked, which not every boy
could.  I wanted him to realize again that with just my cock I could make
him cum, could bring him ecstasy.  I tried as hard as I could to hold my
climax off.  I gritted my teeth and tried to think of something un-sexy, as
I ground in to him again and again.

Finally I heard a choking sound, and I felt him arch his back and with a
cry, his eyes clenched, his mouth grimacing, he began cumming all over
himself.  Feeling his cum shoot against my belly I raised up, pulled nearly
out and slammed him even harder.  A stream of spunk shot out of his spewing
cock, arching well beyond the ribbons of cum already coating his belly and
hitting him in the face.

"AAAHHHHHH,' he screamed, and shot again, as I rammed him again.  Over and
over he spasmed and over and over I fucked into him.

He was finally spent and exhausted, and I bent him so far over that his
knees hit the table next to his ears, and rammed him again and again and
again.  The pleasure of fucking this exhausted submissive little teen was
overwhelming.  Finally, like a volcano exploding through me, it hit me, and
I began cumming into his inert, limp body.  Blast after blast came through
me, as I saw stars and my orgasm roared in my ears like the wind.

In the middle of my orgasm I somehow did something I usually wouldn't have
been able to do -- I yanked my cock out of him mid-cum, jerked him off the
table and banged him down onto the floor, and then finished cumming in his
face.  As my last shot dribbled out of me I gripped my cock and, gasping
for breath, smeared the thick goo around his face, rubbing it over his
cheeks and nose and then shoving it against his lips and then into his
mouth.  He took me limply and began to suck.

"Yeah, baby," I sighed.

After a minute I slowly pulled my cockhead out of him, then picked him up
and threw him over my shoulder.  I carried him back into his room and
tossed him limp down onto the bed.  He flopped down and lay with his eyes
closed.  I lay down next to him without touching him.  After a minute he
rolled to me hesitantly, and searched my face.

"What do you need now?"  I asked him the usual question, wondering if he'd
give me a different answer this time, an answer I wanted to hear.

He looked at me, confused.

"Don't look at me!" I cried.  "The answer is inside you!"

Finally, he whispered, "I need you to hold me."

I caressed his face and neck, and then licked the worst of the cum off his
face..  "Yes.  Beautiful.  Now let's go even deeper.  You need me to hold
you because you need something from me.  What is it?"

I thought maybe he'd say "time" or "answers" or something like that but he
surprised me.

"Love," he whispered.

That did it.  It felt as if something inside me gave way.  I stared at him
a long time.  His face was soft and almost shy.

"Joon," I asked, "think about what you really want.  Is it to be my boy?"

A pause.  "Do you want me to be your boy?"  There was no challenge or
defiance in his voice.  He really wanted to know.

"No dice, Joon.  That's playing it safe. You've gotta commit.  Walk the
tightrope without a net.  I'll ask it again.  Do you want to be my boy?"

"I'm -- not sure what that means.  But -- yes."

"Make sure you know what you're saying.  Being my boy isn't just about
fucking.  It's about everything.  Twenty-four hours a day."  I let that
hang there.

"Just while we're here?  On the island?"

"No.  When we leave too.  When you leave with me."  What was I saying?  It
was just coming out of me like an ejaculation, a stream of piss.  I went
with it.

"Your life is a mess right now and you have no idea what the fuck you're
doing." I continued.  "If you're my boy then here at Young Lovers, and
wherever we are afterwards, you turn every aspect of your life over to me
in complete trust.  I would tell you what to do, you'd do it, no questions
asked."

He swallowed.  "For how long?"

"Weeks.  Months.  Years.  Until we both know you don't need it anymore."

He was silent.

I was on a roll.  "From you I'd get complete honesty, complete
vulnerability, complete obedience.  For my part, I'd love you, protect you,
teach you, discipline you, and strengthen you, with 100 percent commitment.
Until you're strong enough, real enough to not need it anymore. It would be
the biggest commitment you've ever made in your life, by far.  That's what
it means to be my boy.  So think again.  Are you sure?"

As I waited for his answer it hit me that it would also be my biggest
commitment ever.  I felt like it was now me walking the tightrope.  But I
had never felt so right about anything in my life.

He paused only briefly.  "Yeah."

"There's no going back."

"I know."

I caressed his face, then kissed him gently on the lips. He didn't kiss
back -- he wasn't there yet --but didn't pull away either.

I pulled back, and caressed his slack, wet lips with my fingertip.  "You've
been more nakedly honest with me than with anybody, ever, I'm sure.  I
respect honesty, and I would never take anyone to be my boy if I didn't
respect him."

I took a deep breath.  "Right now, more than anything else in my life, I
want you to be my boy."

In the silence that followed I suddenly felt the gravity of what I was
saying.  I had no idea where inside me all this had come from.

Throughout all the intense moments with Joon I hadn't seen him cry.  But I
think at that moment his eyes misted over.  I took him into a gentle,
tender embrace and he didn't resist.  I held him for several moments.

"I know this whole thing is hard for you to accept," I murmured in his ear.
"I know you'll have moments when you can't accept it.  You'll fight it, and
you'll fight me.  But over time you'll see it's for the best."

I almost didn't hear it.  "Yeah," he whispered.

After a moment he pulled back.  "The sex, though . . . "  He paused.  "When
we fuck -- I think I still need you to be rough."

Wow, I thought to myself.

He continued, "It seems like I still need to be your bitch when you fuck
me."  He shook his head.  "Shit, I can't believe I'm saying this."

I smiled.  "I know," I said.  "Making you my bitch turns me on too.  This
won't change that at all.  But it can't just be that."

He waited.

"Sometimes it will have to be -- different."

He frowned.

"Sometimes it will feel like love."

I wasn't sure -- it happened very quickly -- but I think maybe a flicker of
a smile passed over his face before he sank back onto the bed and I pulled
him into my arms again.