Chapter 1: The whipping
Marcus's boots thumped against the floor as he paced the length of the dimly lit bar, the worn leather creaking in time with his heavy footsteps. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the faces in turn, his thick, dark brow furrowed in displeasure. This wasn't what he had intended, but the words were already out there, and there was no taking them back now.
The acrid smell of stale beer and tobacco perfumed the air, filling the cramped space to the point of suffocation.
The wooden bar counter, a testament to the hands that had polished it to a shine over the years, was a familiar sight to him, as was the drone of voices and the occasional clamor of laughter that peppered the atmosphere.
But tonight, the familiarity of the small-town bar didn't bring him any comfort. Tonight, he stood at the edge of the crowd, the weight of the world upon his broad shoulders, as he searched for the man who called himself his lover.
Arthur was easy enough to pick out, huddled in the corner like a frightened rabbit, his eyes downcast, face devoid of emotion.
Marcus's dark eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Boy," he snarled, sauntering over to where Arthur sat, "I thought we had an understanding."
Arthur's head snapped up, his eyes wide with fear, "We did, Marcus.
I swear." His voice trembled, and Marcus's anger softened, even if slightly.
Marcus leaned in closer, their faces inches apart, their breath a mingling whisper. "Do you know how fuckin' crazy I get when you neglect my needs, boy?" Marcus's fingers trailed up Arthur's arm, sending a shiver down the other man's spine. "Do you know what I'm capable of when I don't get what I want?"
Arthur swallowed hard, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"No, Marcus. You never said anything. I thought I was..."
The words died on his lips as Marcus wrapped his massive hand around Arthur's throat, his grip tightening in an instant. "You're my property, boy," Marcus growled, his breath hot and rank in Arthur's face. "And when I need you, I demand your attention. It's the fucking least you can fucking do."
The room went silent, all eyes turning to the two men at the corner table. Some watched with curiosity, others with disgust, but whatever their thoughts, none dared to intervene.
Marcus's grip on Arthur's throat was iron-clad, and the fear in his eyes was palpable.
"Get up," Marcus growled, releasing his hold on Arthur's throat. The relief was audible in Arthur's ragged breathing, and he stood slowly, his legs shaking beneath him. Marcus smirked, relishing the submissive display.
"Follow me," Marcus commanded, turning on his heel to strut toward the back of the bar.
Arthur followed, his heart pounding in his chest, and his mind reeling with terror and anticipation all at once.
Marcus's long legs ate up the distance between the table and the door to the dingy-looking alleyway.
Arthur hesitated for only a moment, but it was enough for Marcus's temper to boil over.
"Get the fuck on my dick, and I might show you some mercy," Marcus spat, his dark eyes menacing, and the promise of violence laced in every syllable.
Arthur hesitated for only a moment before he was on his knees, his hands fumbling with the button and zipper of Marcus's jeans.
The weight of his gaze bore into Arthur's skull, a suffocating blanket of fear and desire that made his heart race.
Arthur's fingers finally managed to free Marcus's cock, and he wrapped his lips around the thick, pulsing shaft.
Marcus's hand fisted in Arthur's hair, holding him in place, controlling the rhythm as he plunged his cock deep into Arthur's throat.
The cold, damp air of the alleyway caressed their skin, the sound of their harsh breathing punctuated by Marcus's groans and curses. He didn't care who saw them, who heard them. The thrill of public sex, the risk of getting caught, only heightened the eroticism of the act.
"Fuck, yes, boy," Marcus panted, his thrusts becoming more forceful.
Arthur choked and gagged, his eyes watering, but he refused to back down. His lips wrapped tighter around Marcus's cock, his tongue swirling and flicking over the tip with a determined ferocity.
The alleyway was drenched with the sounds of their violent, primal lust. The city's lights flickered overhead, casting a nearly insufficient glow on the dirty pavement beneath them. If any passersby chanced upon this display, they would immediately turn and walk the other way, the two men a carnal spectacle not fit for proper society.
But, in the midst of the animalistic fervor that consumed them, Marcus and Arthur were lost to the world, absorbed in each other's bodies.
As Marcus plunged his cock deeper into Arthur's mouth, a wave of pleasure washed over him. It was cheaper, faster, and less messy than a full-on fuck, but it still scratched the itch that had been building inside of him.
For Marcus, the act of dominating Arthur in this way was a reminder of who was boss. He could feel himself spiraling into a rage, but the orgasm would quell the rage for now. And with each pulse, he could feel the satisfaction emanating through his body, coiling with the remnants of his anger.
"Now clean up my cock, you fucking slut." Marcus spat out as he continued using Arthur's mouth like a tool for pleasure. Arthur listened and obeying his commands, he didn't resist.
He knew it was pointless to try to argue or fight back. After all, Marcus was much stronger than him, both physically and mentally. Instead, he swallowed Marcus's cock to the back of his throat once more, his tongue working its magic, as he cleaned every inch of the hard shaft with his mouth.
"That's right, you dirty little slut," Marcus growled, his nails digging into the skin of Arthur's scalp. "Don't forget to clean me up good.
I want every last drop savored," Marcus demanded, the venom in his tone unmistakable.
Arthur dutifully obliged, his throat aching and his eyes watering as he took every inch of Marcus's cock down his throat.
Spit dripped down Arthur's chin, staining his shirt, but Marcus didn't seem to care, a cruel grin twisting his features as he reveled in his dominant position.
"Good boy," Marcus praised, dragging Arthur back up to look him in the eyes.
"The filthier I am to you, the more you deserve, don't you think?" he spoke with a dangerous grin.
Arthur, though still shaken, nodded feebly, "Yes, Marcus. I understand." With a soft whimper, he closed his eyes as Marcus leaned in again.
"Say it," he demanded.
"I understand, Marcus," Arthur gasped, submitting to the dominance Marcus exuded.
"Good." Marcus responded, his lips claiming Arthur's in a demanding kiss.
He tasted the lingering flavor of his own cock on Arthur's tongue, and a new wave of dominance washed over him. He couldn't stop himself from being greedy, from taking what was rightfully his.
Arthur let out a soft moan as Marcus fisted his hair, holding him in place, his tongue delving deeper into Arthur's mouth. Marcus's other hand reached down to grip Arthur's shaft, fingers wrapping around the growing hardness.
"You're already getting excited, you filthy little slut," Marcus sneered, giving Arthur's cock a rough squeeze. "I haven't even told you what I want you to do next."
Arthur moaned, his hips bucking forward as Marcus continued to stroke him. Marcus's grip was firm and unyielding, and Arthur could feel the pressure building deep in his groin as his lover's manipulation sent delicious shivers up his spine.
"Tell me what you want me to do," Arthur gasped, his voice strangled with pleasure.
Marcus smiled, a cruel, predatory smile that spoke volumes of his intentions.
"I want you to ride my cock, slave," he growled, his thick fingers still gripping Arthur's hardening shaft.
Arthur's eyes widened with anticipation, his chest heaving as he drank in the words that made his nerves dance with excitement.
"Okay, Marcus," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. He dropped to his knees before his lover, looking up at him with a mix of adoration and fear in his eyes.
"Yes, master," Arthur whispered obediently. Marcus could feel his cock twitch at those words, the way that Arthur uttered them with reverence-it made his control over him undeniable, unbreakable.
Marcus's grip on Arthur's hair tightened as the brunette tugged his lover's pants down, exposing his long, thick cock. He couldn't resist the urge to give into the filthy act he was about to indulge in, he was far beyond that.
The more Marcus pushed him, the more Arthur found himself craving it.
Arthur wrapped his lips around the head of Marcus's cock, his tongue swirling around the tip, tasting the saltiness that lingered on it. Marcus's grip in his hair loosened a bit, but only so he could guide Arthur's head back and forth.
"That's it," Marcus groaned, his breathing becoming ragged as Arthur's mouth worked its magic on him.
He could feel the tension in his body growing, his desire to dominate his lover nearing its zenith.
With a violent yank, Marcus pulled Arthur up to stand before him, his dark eyes glinting in the dimly-lit alleyway. "Enough teasing," he snarled, grabbing Arthur's wrists and pinning them above his head.
"I've been patient enough, boy," he growled, his fierce words sending a shot of adrenaline straight to Arthur's heart.
"Time for you to bend over and take my cock like a good little slut."
Arthur shuddered at the words, but he could not deny their effect on him. Marcus's aggressive nature and dominance over him was something that had drawn him in from the start, after all.
With a forceful tug, Marcus pulled Arthur further into the alley, pushing him up against the cold brick wall. The contrast between the chill of the building and the heat radiating from Marcus's muscular frame made Arthur's skin prickle with goosebumps.
The grip on Arthur's wrists grew even tighter, and he struggled to breathe as Marcus pressed his chest against his back, leaving no room for him to escape the erotic assault that was upon him.
"You've been such a bad little boy, neglecting my needs," Marcus murmured into Arthur's ear, tracing the curve of the shell with his tongue. A shiver ran down Arthur's spine, and he bit his bottom lip, trying to contain the whimper that threatened to escape his throat.
Marcus's grip on his wrists tightened, making his knuckles pale, as his warm breath tickled Arthur's ear. The air was thick with the sounds of his heart pounding, and the scent of lust was intoxicating, sending shockwaves of desire straight to Arthur's center.
"Take it, slut," Marcus grunted, pushing Arthur's hips back, spreading his legs wider. Arthur could feel the blunt head of his lover's cock nudging at his entrance, pleading to be allowed entry.
Marcus had always been a man of action, not quite one for foreplay or drawn-out rituals. And as rough as this all was, it was just the way Arthur liked it.
"Marcus," he gasped, his body trembling in anticipation. Marcus bit down on Arthur's earlobe, his teeth sharp and precise as he sunk them in. He could feel the trickle of blood as Marcus's tongue came out to taste him. It was a pleasurable mix of pain and pleasure that made Arthur's heart race in excitement.
Marcus's grip on his wrists loosened just long enough for him to reach round and take hold of Marcus's thick hips, pulling him forward as he tried to ease the burning sensation of his demands.
But Marcus wouldn't have any of that. He pulled his hips back, pushing Arthur's legs apart until his thighs burned with the strain. With a vicious growl, Marcus thrust forward, piercing through Arthur's entrance in a single, brutal stroke.
Arthur's breath caught in his throat, a hoarse cry tearing itself from his lungs at the ferocity of Marcus's entrance. The pain was sharp, a searing heat that spread like wildfire through his veins, but Arthur couldn't deny the pleasure that came with it, the satisfaction of having every inch of him filled with his lover. Marcus's fingers tightened around Arthur's hips, bruising skin and bone beneath his fierce grip.
"You like that, don't you?" Marcus sneered, his voice low and guttural.
"It'd be better if you remembered who the fuck is in charge here. You're mine. My inferior. So little better than a fuck toy, really."
Arthur swallowed thickly, feeling the lump rise in his throat as he looked up at Marcus, fear and submission written all over his face. "Yes, Marcus. Yours. Always."
Marcus growled in approval, releasing Arthur's wrist and grasping the front of his shirt, ripping it open and revealing the bare skin beneath.
"You're mine, boy," Marcus snarled, his lips curling back over sharp teeth as he dipped his head to drag his tongue over the exposed skin. "Mine to use and abuse as I see fit."
Arthur trembled beneath the onslaught of Marcus's words, as much from fear as from desire. He knew what he had signed up for when he had agreed to be with Marcus, but the stark reality of it still sometimes left him breathless.
The dominant behavior, the constant reminders of his submission, were not just sexual frustrations but a fundamental aspect of their relationship.
Marcus held onto Arthur's shirt, his fingers digging into the fabric as he pushed himself deeper into Arthur's body. "N-nnnggh," Arthur moaned, his breath hitching as Marcus began to move.
He didn't have much room to move, trapped against the cold brick wall, but it only heightened his sense of helplessness, making his eyes roll back in his head in glorious abandon.
Marcus's thrusts were rough, unyielding, setting a brutal pace that left Arthur's knees shaking and his breath coming in ragged gasps.
The raw sound of Marcus's hips slapping against Arthur's ass echoed through the alleyway, along with the sound of their heavy breathing and the distant hum of traffic. Marcus's grip on Arthur's shirt tightened, and he could feel the fabric digging into his skin, leaving angry red welts in its wake.
Arthur's heart was pounding in his chest, fueled by the mixture of fear and pleasure that surged through his body. Marcus's thrusts never faltered, his hips pistoning in and out, sending shudders up and down Arthur's spine. The brick wall behind him was cold and unforgiving, but the pain of it paled in comparison to the carnal pleasure of Marcus's cock driving into him again and again.
"Wh-who do you belong to?" Marcus snarled, his hot breath fanning out against the back of Arthur's neck.
"You belong to me, boy. That's who."
'Yes,' Arthur thought, his mind a whirlwind of pleasure and pain, of fear and love. 'I am yours.'
Marcus thrust harder, his pelvis slapping against Arthur's ass with a wet, meaty sound. The smell of sweat and musk filled the air, mingling with the stench of the alleyway and the distant sounds of the city.
Marcus drove himself into Arthur relentlessly, the smaller man's body slamming against the rough brick with every thrust. Arthur's fingers clawed at the wall, searching for purchase on the unforgiving surface. His muscles quivered from the exertion of staying upright, every muscle stretched to its limit.
Suddenly, Marcus's movements grew erratic, and he let out a low, guttural growl that sent chills down Arthur's spine.
He grabbed hold of Arthur's hips, pinning him firmly against the wall as he rammed into him with a savage force that threatened to shatter the fragile remnants of his sanity.
Arthur cried out, the sound of their sweat-slicked bodies slapping together drowned out by their grunted breaths and Marcus's primal roars. The pleasure was unbearable, intense, and all-consuming.
His eyes rolled back in his head as Marcus continued to pound into him, the pain and pleasure warring with each other in his mind. His moans filled the cold, dirty alleyway, echoing off the worn-down walls that surrounded them.
Marcus's grip on his hips tightened, his fingers biting into the flesh as he neared his climax. Arthur felt lumps forming where Marcus's fingers dug into his skin, and he knew that soon he would bear the physical evidence of this degrading encounter.
But right now, he didn't care. His whole body was consumed by a tempest of pleasure and pain, and he was powerless against it.
"Who do you belong to?" Marcus snarled again, his tone a vicious growl that pulled Arthur from the depths of his ecstasy.
Arthur's heart skipped a beat at the declaration, and the lump in his throat grew even more prominent. "Yes," he gasped, the only word he could utter without losing himself to the overwhelming pleasure.
Marcus's grip became increasingly brutal as he pushed Arthur harder and faster, his thighs slapping violently against Arthur's ass, sending shocks of pain and pleasure throughout every nerve in his body.
"Who does this body belong to?" Marcus demanded, his breath hot and foul against Arthur's neck.
Arthur moaned, the only answer he could muster. He was barely aware of the dampness seeping into the stone alleyway, the roughness of the brick rubbing against his skin.
In this moment, it was just the pain and pleasure of Marcus's body slamming into his, their panting, groaning, and the slick slapping sound as their bodies met.
Marcus shoved deeper and harder into him, his grunts and growls reverberating in the confined space.
His powerful thighs tightened around Arthur's waist, holding him steady as he drove himself in and out again and again. Marcus reached round to grip Arthur's cock once more, pulling at the engorged flesh in time to his thrusts.
Arthur's head lolled back, resting against Marcus's shoulder as his body succumbed to the assault. The overwhelming mix of agony and bliss made his toes curl and his fingers claw.
Marcus's hand moved with a frenetic energy, his calloused thumb running over the head of Arthur's leaking cock. "You wanna come, you little slut?" Marcus growled into Arthur's ear.
Arthur's chest heaved with his accelerated breaths as he nodded in eager agreement.
In this moment of weakness and passion, all he wanted was to please Marcus, to make him feel desired and powerful.
Marcus's grip on his cock tightened, and he began to pump it rapidly, his rough, callused hand matching the cadence of his quick thrusts.
"Fuck, Arthur," Marcus groaned, his voice trembling with his approaching climax. "You're mine - you always will be."
At the sound of those words, there was something fluttering in Arthur's chest, something possessive and unfamiliar.
"Yes, Marcus," Arthur breathed out, his heart thumping in his chest, aware that his surrender was too late but unable to stop himself from confessing his truth.
Marcus gave a deep, throaty laugh, his voice oozing with dominance as he growled, "You asked for it, boy."
With a sudden jerk, Marcus released Arthur's hips and spun him around to face him, pushing Arthur's back against the cool, rough wall, the bricks bumping against the bare skin of his shoulders and neck.
Marcus's eyes were wild, burning with desire as he fisted his hand in Arthur's hair and yanked him close, crushing their mouths together crudely. His other hand reached down to grip Arthur's ass, kneading it tightly between his fingers.
Arthur moaned as Marcus's tongue invaded his mouth with a frantic hunger, a harsh contrast to the softness of his earlier kisses. He could taste traces of himself on Marcus's lips, a heady reminder of the power exchange that was taking place between them.
Arthur struggled against Marcus's grip, his hands desperately trying to push against his broad shoulders, but it was a losing battle. There was no way he was leaving this alleyway anything less than completely ravaged.
Marcus tore his mouth away from Arthur's lips, only to begin trailing rough, wet kisses down the side of his neck, his teeth nipping and biting at the delicate skin. He could feel a surge of pleasure each time Marcus's teeth left little crescents behind on his flesh. A filthy reminder of his place.
Submitting to Marcus, the man that he loved and feared, his Master.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Marcus grunted, continuing to pound into him. Arthur's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, the heat of their bodies mingling together as one in the dimly-lit alley.
The roughness of the brick wall dug into his back, but Arthur barely felt it, lost in the onslaught of pleasure that Marcus unleashed upon him with every thrust.
Beads of sweat rolled down Marcus's back, his muscles straining as he drove himself deeper into Arthur's willing body.
The sounds of their lovemaking filled the alleyway, a symphony of wet, slick flesh slapping together, their labored breathing and moans mixing with the distant sound of traffic. Marcus's hands gripped Arthur tightly, one fisted in his hair, pulling at the roots just hard enough to make him gasp while the other kneaded and groped at his ass.
Marcus removing belt to whip Arthur