Chapter 9: And So It Begins
The rhythmic metronome of the grandfather clock felt amplified, each beat echoing the insistent pull at Dominic’s chest. He shifted on the worn couch cushion, the plastic domes shifting slightly under the thin blue cotton of his t-shirt, sending another jolt of sensation radiating outward. He tried to focus on the laptop screen, the spreadsheet detailing Daveed’s action plan blurring before his eyes. One hour and fifty-four minutes had been easier than he expected, despite the prickling warmth and low, throbbing ache from his nipples. He’d forced himself to work, crafting templates, outlining strategies for Daveed’s professional hurdles – the grievance process, an email template to set things going and, potentially, a loan application for Daveed to start his own business. The work was solid, practical, a lifeline to the man he used to be. But the pumps, they were a constant, solidifying, electrifying reminder of who he was becoming.
A car door slammed outside, echoing and final in the quiet street. Dominic’s breath caught. He ensured the documents were saved and filed correctly and placed the laptop on the desk in his study. His glance at the office chair and the second armchair a guilty and gleeful reminder of the past twenty four hours. His fingers trembled slightly as he smoothed the t-shirt over the obvious, rigid protrusions on his chest. The doorbell chimed. Steady. Polite.
He stood, the movement making the suction intensify for a dizzying second before settling back into its steady pull. Hard to ignore still, but less insistent the more he wore them. He took a deep breath, trying to project calm professionalism, and opened the door.
Daveed stood there. Sunlight caught the reddish glints in his dark, slightly messy hair. He wore faded jeans and a soft-looking grey hoodie, looking younger, more vulnerable than the commanding voice on the phone. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched. He offered a small, hesitant smile.
"Hey," Daveed said, his voice quiet, almost shy. "Sorry if I'm early?"
"No, no," Dominic stammered, stepping back. "Right on time. Come in." The deferential tone was jarring after the phone call’s raw command. Daveed ducked his head slightly as he entered, his gaze flickering around the neat hallway, avoiding Dominic’s chest. "Thanks for seeing me again so soon."
"Of course," Dominic gestured towards the study, hyper-aware of the soft shush sound the plastic domes made against his shirt as he moved. "Coffee? Water?"
"Coffee would be perfect, thanks." Daveed followed him, sinking into the same armchair as the day before. He looked uncomfortable, fiddling with the drawstring of his hoodie. "Appreciate you doing this, I really do. Bit nervous, actually." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Been a scramble lately."
The ordinariness of it, Daveed’s palpable awkwardness, was a balm. Dominic felt a wave of genuine relief wash over him, momentarily dulling the insistent ache in his chest and groin. This was manageable. This was his domain. Helping. "Don't be nervous," he said, his voice firmer now. He went to the kitchen and grabbed two mugs of coffee. "How do you take it?" He called back. "Hot and wet", Daveed laughed from the study, "just black, thanks", he confirmed. Dominic came back into the study, slightly flushed, but smiling, deciding to lean into the banter-like humour. "Thank you", Daveed smiled briefly. Dominic picked up the laptop from the side table. "I’ve pulled some things together. Let's dive in."
For the next hour, the study became their makeshift strategy room. Dominic laid out the plan step by step. The standard grievance process and some information he'd pulled from Daveed's employers website was first. Daveed had completed his given tasks and they worked together easily, expanding and refining the statement. They worked on a statement for Daveed to read out should he need to when attending meetings. They made a list of people Daveed could ask for support at work. A Monday morning checklist. Daveed listened intently, asking thoughtful questions, his brow furrowed in concentration. He took notes on his phone, his earlier shyness replaced by focused engagement.
"You've really thought this through," Daveed murmured, scrolling through the complete email draft they had composed together. "This phrasing... 'mutually beneficial resolution'... perfect. Takes the sting out while holding ground. Genius."
Dominic felt a flush of pride, warm and genuine, completely separate from the persistent throb under his shirt. This felt good. Right. He was helping. "It’s about shifting the frame," he explained, pointing at the screen. "Making them see it’s in their interest to work with you, not against you."
Daveed nodded, his eyes meeting Dominic’s. There was gratitude there, sincere and deep. "Honestly, Dom? Lifesaver. Seriously. Didn't know where to start this morning." He leaned back in the armchair, letting out a long breath, the tension visibly leaving his shoulders. "Feel a million times better. Ready to tackle tomorrow."
The work was done. The practical crisis averted, at least on paper. Dominic hesitated for a moment. "What is it?" Daveed asked, "Is it bad?" Concern that there were consequences I was nervous to tell him crossed his face. "No, no, nothing like that", Dominic chuckled. "You're in a really good spot with them". Daveed sighed. "It's just that... you are a very bright, thoughtful, intelligent young man. You mentioned wanting your own business, so I started to gather some information." Daveed's eyes went wide. "If you still want to that is. I could support you with the paperwork... I mean, even after you get started. If that's helpful or... or... what you want?" He was nervous, he felt almost intrusive. Daveed's grin was broad and expressive. "I do want it, yes." His lips pursed slightly. "But let's get this first bit sorted first, shall we?" They smiled at each other. The grandfather clock ticked, marking the end of the professional consultation. Dominic felt a pang of… something. Completion? Relief that Daveed hadn’t mentioned the pumps? He started to gather the printed pages he’d brought out. "Well, that should give you a solid foundation. Just execute the steps—"
"Leave those." Daveed’s voice cut through the quiet. It was different. Still quiet, but the hesitancy was gone. Replaced by a calm, absolute certainty. Dominic froze, clutching the papers. Daveed hadn’t moved from the armchair, but his posture had subtly shifted. He wasn’t slumped anymore. He was relaxed, but alert. In control. His dark eyes held Dominic’s, no longer shy, but intensely focused. Assessing. His hand ran along the edge of the seat, between his thighs. Bringing it up to his nose he took a look, deep, sniff. "Nice," he murmured.
Dominic felt the familiar panic start to bubble, mingling with the ever-present, amplified arousal. "Oh... yes... er..." he stumbled.
"Stand up, Dom," Daveed said, his tone conversational, yet leaving no room for argument. It was the same voice that had ordered the oil, the nipple play. Commanding. Dominic stood, the papers slipping from his suddenly nerveless fingers, scattering on the rug. The movement jostled the pumps; a sharp spike of sensation made him gasp.
Daveed’s gaze tracked the sound, dropping pointedly to Dominic’s chest. His hands reached out and slowly lifted Dominic's t-shirt, fully exposing his nipples, encased in the pumping equipment. Daveed's eyes glistened in delight. He removed Dominic's top and slowly began to pull at the cups. Dominic whimpered in pleasure. "I... I... I..." he muttered, suddenly unable to form words. "Shhh, it's ok Dommie, baby", Daveed whispered back, his voice a low, soothing resonance. The extra tension on the sensitized nipples was thrilling. As one cup disengaged, he started on the other. The pure ecstasy of this happening with another person, and such a beautiful specimen, right there with him, was almost overwhelming. Daveed's thumbs and forefingers lightly clasped his free nipple, a small smile caressing his lips. Dominic tried to strangle the squeal that rose up from his gut, but it escaped through his open mouth, delighting Daveed. The second pump released with an audible pop. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Good."
He paused, letting the silence stretch, thick with the unspoken desire of Dominic's engorged chest and ragged breathing. "Tell me about yesterday", Daveed commanded. Surprising himself with a lack of hesitation, the details of the previous day spilled from Dominic's lips. He tried to remember every detail, every moan, every drop. But so much had happened. He didn't want to disappoint Daveed, so he did his best, knowing he was missing things that he was now desperate to share. Daveed patiently listened, occasionally letting his fingers outline the thickening bulge in his crotch. Dominic did his best to stay focussed, trying to avoid noticing Daveed's eyes roaming his body, often resting on his tits and nipples. Then, once he had finished telling Daveed about Scott and the pumps, his eyes lifted back to Dominic’s face, holding him captive. "Now. Go upstairs. Put on the robe. The vest. The briefs. From yesterday. Exactly as you were." The command was soft, precise. Final. "Don't touch yourself more than you need to."
The words landed like a wave of confirmation and permission. The silky robe. The oversized grey vest. The revealing briefs. The uniform of his surrender, his exploration. Soiled with all of his juices. Daveed wanted him back in that skin. The shy, grateful mentee was gone. The one who named his cunt had returned. Dominic stood frozen, desperately awaiting the order to go and fulfill the commands, the professional sanctuary of the last hour crumbling into dust, revealing the raw, pulsing need beneath. His nipples and mancunt throbbed in time with his racing heart, a relentless reminder of where this was headed. "Do it now", the order hung in the air, sharp and undeniable, propelling him towards the stairs.
Dominic’s legs felt like lead, having been rooted to the spot for a good 20 minutes, yet he moved, each step echoing the frantic thudding in his chest. Upstairs, the bedroom door clicked shut behind him, sealing him in with the scent of his own desperation lingering on the discarded clothes piled near the laundry basket and the used sheets on the bed.
He found the vest first, its soft muted terrycloth dragging on the floorboards as he pulled it from the heap. He removed his clothes, the soaked boxers heavy with precum. He lifted them to his nose and lips. No, he mustn't delay. He put on the vest, revelling in the strangely still-sweet freshness of his day old emissions. The fabric instantly reminded him just how sensitive his nipples now were. He wondered if this would this keep changing, could they really get more sensitive than this? The stained silk gown came next, cool against his overheated skin as he slipped it over his shoulders, the faint aroma of yesterday’s sweat and slick arousal rising from the fabric. Finally, the briefs – damp in the crotch, stiffening slightly where his own fluids had dried – slid up his trembling thighs, settling snugly against his swollen cocklet, a familiar, shameful pressure.
He stood before the mirror, a stranger draped in submission. The robe gaped open, revealing the vest clinging to his torso, the briefs outlining the curve of his ass. His nipples, still tender, but even puffier and more prominent from the pump, peaked visibly against the thin silk, the straps now too thin to hide them. He looked debauched. Owned. A tremor ran through him, part terror, part electric anticipation. Daveed waited downstairs. The shy man was gone. Dominic took a shaky breath, turned from his reflection, and walked back out.
Daveed stood precisely in the centre of the living room rug, facing the stairs. He’d shed the soft grey hoodie. Now, he wore only the faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt stretched taut over powerful shoulders and chest. The diffident posture was utterly erased. He stood planted, radiating quiet, absolute authority, his dark eyes fixed on Dominic's descent. His groin seemed to demand all of Dominic's attention. The growing bulge there, noticeable movement, a twitch. Dominic felt dizzy. The grandfather clock’s ticking seemed louder, slower, marking the transition into something new.
Dominic stopped at the bottom step, the robe swishing around his thighs. Daveed’s gaze swept over him, lingering on the exposed vest, the outline of the briefs, the contours of his chest. A flicker of satisfaction touched Daveed’s lips. No words. Just that look, stripping Dominic bare beneath the layers he wore. Dominic’s breath caught, trapped in his throat.
"Come here," Daveed commanded, his voice low and resonant. Not loud. Unmistakable. Dominic obeyed, crossing the few feet of carpet separating them, stopping inches away. The scent of Daveed – warm and grounding, but vibrant and uplifting, a hint of exertion – washed over him, dizzying. Daveed didn’t move. "Slowly," he instructed, his eyes locked on Dominic’s. "Undress me."
Dominic thrilled, his hands trembling as he reached out. His fingers found the hem of Daveed’s t-shirt, soft cotton bunching under his touch. He lifted it slowly, revealing the taut expansion of Daveed’s stomach, not flat, but firm, the defined ridges of muscle climbing towards his broad chest, revealing muscled tits, with perky dark nipples. Dominic felt the drool begin to pool in his mouth. The fabric slid higher, catching momentarily under Daveed’s arms before Dominic eased it over his head, letting it drop silently to the floor. Daveed’s torso was meaty, sculpted, powerful, fanned with dark hair. Dominic stared, overwhelmed.
"Closer," Daveed murmured. Dominic stepped in, the stained silk of the robe brushing Daveed’s thigh. Daveed lifted his arms slightly. "Sniff." The command was blunt, primal. Dominic hesitated only a heartbeat before leaning his face into the damp hollow beneath Daveed’s left arm. The scent was intense, musky, deeply male sweat mixed with the faint, clean smell of citrus. Slightly bitter but juicy and stimulating, with an undertone of comforting, earthy warmth. Heat radiated from the skin. He inhaled deeply, the aroma flooding his senses, triggering a low throb in his recently awakened ass. Saliva began to flow over his bottom lip. "Good," Daveed breathed. "Now the other." Dominic obeyed, burying his nose in the right pit, breathing in the raw, intimate scent. Allowing the liquids from his mouth to run freely. His knees felt weak.
Daveed lowered his arms. "Worship them," he ordered, his voice thick with command. "My muscles. All of them." Dominic’s hands, still trembling, lifted. He traced the hard curve of Daveed’s shoulders, fingertips skating over warm skin, soft hair and thick muscle. He pressed his palm flat against the solid pectoral muscle, feeling its density, the heat beneath. Daveed flexed and bulged his arm muscles as Dominic kissed his way over every inch. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Daveed’s collarbone, then lower, kissing the swell of his chest. Daveed hummed in appreciation, but remained still, a statue of power being adored.
"Lick," Daveed commanded. Dominic’s tongue flicked tentatively against Daveed’s salty skin, tasting the faint tang of sweat. He licked a stripe across the thick, engorged, hirsute pectoral, his tongue exploring the texture, the heat. The nipples were calling to him. "Not those. Not yet", Daveed instructed. Disappointed, he continued to kiss lower, down the ridges of Daveed’s abdomen, his lips and tongue mapping the terrain Daveed offered for worship. Each touch, each taste, sent sparks through Dominic’s own overloaded nerves. He was drowning in sensation, in obedience. His excitement at where this was going was making him shiver with anticipation.
Daveed’s hand settled firmly on the back of Dominic’s head, guiding him lower still. Dominic found himself kneeling on the rug, face level with Daveed’s belt buckle. The faded denim strained over a significant bulge. Dominic’s fingers worked the button, then the zipper. The rasp was loud in the quiet room. He pushed the jeans down over Daveed's hips, pulling them off, one leg at a time, over his socked feet. Black briefs contained the thick outline of his erection. A growing wet patch elicited a deep, musky, richness that made Dominic whimper. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and gently began pulling them down too.
"Slower", Daveed commanded. The anticipation of seeing his cock made Dominic barely able to contain himself. He was squirming. First Daveed's thick bush of hair, springing out from the dark fabric. Then the root, thick and buried deep in the thatch of pubic hair. Veins started to show as he lowered the underwear and revealed more and more of this man's meat. At about 5 inches, the semi-hard cock sprang forward, over the elasticated waist band.
Dominic stared. Daveed’s cock was thick, uncut, not even fully erect, jutting powerfully from a nest of dark curls. Dominic was enthralled. The head was flushed a deep pink, glistening slightly at the tip. It looked perfect, not as intimidating as he had expected. Dominic’s mouth went dry. He’d never imagined this would be part of his life. In this moment, he wanted nothing else.
Daveed’s hand tightened in Dominic’s hair, not painfully, but with absolute control. "Taste it," he ordered, his voice rough now, edged with hunger. He guided Dominic’s head forward. The musky scent filled Dominic’s nostrils, overwhelming. He opened his mouth, tentatively touching the tip with his tongue. The taste was salty, primal. Daveed's cock spasmed, thickening and lengthening further. Unexpectedly, a surge of pure need washed through him, obliterating hesitation.
More precum followed. The more he lapped it up, the more Daveed produced and the longer and thicker he became. Getting fully erect must have added another three inches in length. He looked up at Daveed's grinning face. "Hungry little slut, aren't you, Dommie baby?" The words on their own weren't kind, but Daveed gave them a sense of praise, encouragement.
He opened wider, letting the broad head push past his lips. The heat was intense. He took more, feeling the thick shaft stretch his mouth. He was nervous of scraping his teeth on it, of choking or retching. He didn't want Daveed to be upset or let down by him. But, to his own shock, his mouth and throat opened easily, accommodating both the prodigious length and girth. He slid further down, taking Daveed deep, his nose finally coming to rest in the wiry curls at the base. There was no gag, no struggle. Just the astonishing, consuming fullness, the salty taste flooding his mouth, the low groan vibrating from Daveed above him as Dominic swallowed him whole.
Without intending to, Dominic's hands start to move towards his chest, his full, perky tits desperate for attention. "No," Daveed suddenly commanded. "You are worshipping me in this moment. This is important. We will get to you later, I promise". Dominic trusted him, his hands curling around Daveed's thick, hairy calves instead.
The astonishing fullness consumed him, thick and heavy on his tongue, the salty-sweet tang of continuous precum flooding his mouth. Daveed’s low groan vibrated down his shaft, a rumble Dominic felt deep in his own throat as he swallowed him whole. No resistance, no reluctance, just the shocking ease of taking him all, his nose buried in Daveed's dense thicket of hair, the musk deliciously overwhelming. Dominic’s eyes watered, but he held still, breathing shallowly through his mouth, around the weighty cock, stunned by his own body’s compliance.
"Fuck, Dom," Daveed rasped, his hand tightening in Dominic’s hair, not pulling, just anchoring. "Look at you. Taking it like you were made for it." His hips gave a tiny, involuntary thrust, pushing deeper for a second, stretching Dominic’s throat further. "Just like I knew you would". Dominic whimpered around the intrusion, the sound muffled, swallowed by flesh. The vibration made Daveed curse softly, his thighs tensing. "Yeah. Just like that. Can you see how amazing you are? Feel how deep you got me?"
Dominic could only manage a slight nod, the movement miniscule against the solid weight filling him. He felt pinned, owned, the robe gaping open around his kneeling form, the vest rough against his own sensitized nipples, soaked and slick from the mix of precum and spit oozing from his mouth. Daveed’s free hand drifted down, calloused fingertips tracing the shell of Dominic’s ear, then sliding to cup his jaw, feeling the stretch. "Good boy. So fucking good." The praise, raw and hungry, sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through Dominic, pooling low in his belly, making his own erect cock twitch delightedly in the now sodden briefs and his mancunt quiver in delight. He stayed utterly still, letting Daveed use his mouth, the rhythmic pulse of the cock against his tongue the only thing that mattered.
Daveed shifted his stance slightly, a subtle adjustment. "Alright, Dommie baby," he murmured, voice thick with control. "Time to work for it. Up and down. Slow. Use your throat and your tongue, as well as your lips. Let me show you how much of a perfect slut you are. Show me what that hungry little mouth can really do." He eased back just enough to allow movement, his grip on Dominic’s head guiding, not forcing. "Make me feel it."
Dominic hesitated for only a heartbeat, the command slicing through the haze of sensation. Then, he obeyed. He pulled back slowly, dragging his lips along the thick vein on the underside, feeling the silken skin slide against his tongue until just the swollen head remained, glistening wetly, resting heavily on his tongue, oozing precum. He paused, meeting Daveed’s dark, expectant gaze for a fleeting second, seeing the hunger there, the absolute authority. Then he sank down again, deliberately, swallowing the thick length inch by inch, using his throat muscles, relaxing into the stretch until his nose pressed back into coarse hair. He pulled back again, this time forcing his tongue forward so it could flick at the underside of the shaft and catch the sensitive head as he bobbed. A low moan escaped Daveed, his hips jerking slightly. "Yeeeeeaaahhhh just like that." A pause as Daveed caught his breath. "Again. Slow. Deep."
Dominic repeated the motions, finding a rhythm – slow retreat, deliberate descent, deep swallowing. Each upward pull left Daveed’s cock slick and shining, each downward plunge drew a sharper gasp or a hissed curse from above. Dominic let go of every thought, his mind blissfully clear, focused only on the sensations: the salty taste, the hot, spongy weight, the faint throb against his palate, the scrape of pubic hair against his nose. His jaw ached, his throat protested, but the heat coiling in his ass, the insistent throb from his nipples, the sheer rightness of submission drowned it out. He lost himself in the act, in the obedience, in the sounds Daveed made.
"Faster now," Daveed commanded, his breath coming shorter, his fingers tightening almost painfully in Dominic’s hair. "Keep working for it, Dommie baby. Like the good boy you are. You're almost there." The shift was immediate. Dominic’s pace quickened, the slow, sensual drag replaced by a more urgent bobbing, still taking him deep each time, throat working, swallowing around the intrusion. The wet, sucking sounds filled the room, mingling with Daveed’s increasingly ragged breathing and Dominic’s own muffled grunts of effort. Daveed’s thighs trembled against Dominic’s shoulders. "That’s it… fuck… take it… gonna fill that throat…"
Dominic felt the change, the thickening, the intensifying pulse between his lips and on his tongue. Daveed’s groans turned guttural, primal. The impending release tensing his body. "Dom… gonna…"
Lost in the rhythm of obedience, driven by a desperate need to please, to consume, Dominic drove down hard, taking him impossibly deep just as Daveed’s control shattered. A harsh cry ripped from Daveed’s throat as his hips slammed forward, fucking Dominic's face with his erupting cock. Hot, bitter spurts flooded Dominic’s mouth, thick and sudden, hitting the back of his throat. Dominic devoured it all, eyes flying wide, but held on, swallowing convulsively as pulse after pulse filled him, the taste overwhelming, the sensation of being claimed utterly complete. Daveed shuddered violently above him, his release seemingly endless, his grip on Dominic’s head iron-tight, holding him firmly impaled.
Finally, the pulses subsided, leaving Daveed panting, slumped slightly, his softening cock still deep in Dominic’s throat. Dominic stayed perfectly still, trembling, his mouth swallowing the last drops, tears streaking his cheeks from the effort and achievement. The taste lingered, potent and musky. Daveed slowly, carefully, eased Dominic off him, the slick flop of his freed dick loud in the sudden quiet. Dominic took a long slow breath, strings of saliva and cum connecting his lips to Daveed’s glistening cock. He looked up, dazed, wrecked, his lips swollen, chin wet.
Daveed looked down at him, his expression unreadable for a moment, then softened into something akin to awe mixed with fierce possession. He gently wiped a stray tear from Dominic’s cheek with his thumb. "Look at you," he breathed, his voice rough but tender. "Swallowed every drop. Like a champion." He traced Dominic’s swollen lips. "You have amazed me, Dommie baby. Far beyond expectations." He let his thumb linger, then slowly withdrew his touch. He crouched down in front of Dominic, they were eye to eye. Daveed's gaze was tender, thoughtful and impressed. He licked the spit and cum from Dominic's lips and chin and kissed him, deeply, with his tongue, mixing, mingling and swallowing their juices together. As he withdrew, his eyes lingering on Dominic's chest, he carefully said, "We need to talk before we go any further".