I enjoy BDSM stories—like really, really enjoy them. However, more specifically, I enjoy SM/Ds stories. There’s something about the relinquishing of power, particularly when it’s mixed with discomfort, that I find nearly intoxicating.
The source of the discomfort/pain is rather irrelevant; it can be as benign and uncomplicated as orgasm denial, or a bit more advanced like a violet wand or E-Stim/tens units. Either way, bondage isn’t really what trips my trigger…it’s power exchange and the accompanying anxiety when sadomasochism is woven in.
Introduce the above elements into a love story, whose main character is also challenged with ‘smaller equipment,’ and you have Grif’s Toy.
Grif, our protagonist, faces rather substantial emotional hurdles in coping with his smaller anatomy. However, as they say, there’s someone out there for everyone – and our story finds Grif with a choice to make: keep his heart safe and remain a virgin, or place his trust in a rather twisted—but good-hearted and lovable—sadist. I bet you can guess which one he chooses. *grin*
The most important thing with kink, as with most things in life, in my humble opinion, is respect. In the end, Grif, along with every one of us, simply wants to be loved and respected for who he is. It’s one of those common desires which links us all. If you reach for Grif’s Toy, and end up reading it, I sincerely hope you enjoy his journey…including the love story and naughty kink which accompanies it.
Grif believes he’ll live his life as a virgin. After all, who would want him? How could anyone find him, a guy who came with less than man-sized equipment, worthy of their love?
What he hadn’t counted on were the two amazing men who would change his life. After entering college, he meets Tate, his fun-loving, roommate. While years later, with Tate now just a memory, Wes, a handsome, rugged ex-marine who runs his own security firm enters his life.
Both men lead Grif through a twisted mesh of pleasure, pain, and denial, as they force him to see his value, despite his size and insecurities.
Tags: GAY, EROTICA, BDSM, DEGRADATION, SPH
Excerpt: Taking a step back he ordered, “Undress me, please. Begin with my shirt.”
I reached up and undid the buttons of his shirt. As each opened, more and more of his broad, furry, muscular chest was revealed. Fuck, his body was a work of art. It was so big and strong and powerful.
Somehow, after hours of play, his shirt tails were still tucked in. I reached for the belt to undo it when he caught my wrist, “On your knees for the pants, please.”
I knelt down and noticed almost the entire front of his dark pants was wet. I groaned deeply with need. “Fuck, Wes,” I said licking my lips and not taking my eyes off the massive bulge.
“Grif?” he said. And when I didn’t hear anything else I looked up and met his eyes.
“You may look, but no touching, clear?”
I looked back down at the straining fabric and reluctantly nodded.
I was horny as fuck and sorer than I’d ever been in my life. I’d been fucking tormented for hours, and I still couldn’t touch? Beyond exasperated, I snapped, “Yeah, I got it, no fucking touching, okay?”
He grabbed the back of my hair so quickly that I hadn’t even seen him move, and yanked my head back sharply so our eyes met.
He growled down at me with a harsh seriousness he’d never directed at me before, “When we’re in Chocolate, you’ll show me respect at all times. You’ll respect my cock and understand it’s a privilege for you to even look at it. You’ll respect my orders, and you’ll comply to the best of your ability. And if I don’t like the result, you’ll be punished. You’ll do this because you’ve agreed to do this. At any time you’re free to stop by uttering a single word. What is the word, Grif?”
I stared up at him defiantly, not responding.
He didn’t waver, didn’t flinch, didn’t loosen his grip at all.
“The word is Vanilla, Wes.” I finally hissed, staring directly into his eyes. “And the only reason your wrist isn’t broken, the only reason I’m still on my knees, the only reason you’re still painfully holding me by the hair is because I allow it! Is that fucking clear?”
His grip didn’t vary, and he growled, “From the very first time we did Chocolate, I’ve understood that, Grif. It’s not something I ever forget or take for granted. As I said, it’s a gift I cherish. And I have no doubt you have the ability, and the physical strength, to extricate yourself from any situation I choose to put you in. But, this isn’t about brawn, is it? This isn’t about my big dick or your small one.”
He released his hold, brought his hand around, and slid his fingers softly along my jaw. “This isn’t about your worth as a human being or mine. And, this isn’t about how much I love you—and I do, beyond description—or how much you love me—and I know in my heart that you do because I feel it every day that I’m with you.”
More quietly he said, “This…,” and he motioned back and forth between the two of us, “the occasional Chocolate, is about one thing and one thing only; my desire to physically and psychologically inflict pain and your desire to receive it. Nothing more. Of course it’s better, stronger, infinitely more gratifying because we also love and respect each other.”
About the Author: Joseph is a born and raised Southern Californian—with a twenty-year stint of living in the Midwest. He loves the laid-back lifestyle of San Diego and considers himself lucky to live where people dream of vacationing.
A lifelong reader of m/m fiction, he began his writing career one night sitting at his MacBook and has never looked back. He writes to bring the characters he dreams about to life.