(Camden's POV - Tue. 18 November 2014)

"You may dress up, Mrs. Sanders," I sternly say as soon as I finish the massage of the woman's back, eager to see those barely concealed forms covered with more clothes in the next seconds. Being nearly transparent, these tiny lace panties don't leave much surprise as to what they are supposed to hide, blatantly hinting at the generous and firm globes of her asscheeks that would get a lot of my fellow osteopath colleagues hard. Doesn't work with me! And I actually wish she would stop wearing such sexy underwear, but not only. I also wish she would stop hitting on me with her seductive glances, her sugary voice and her vulgar gait as she sways her hips flirtatiously.

Don't get me wrong. Being gay doesn't make me a misogyn all the same. I don't even feel totally disgusted by women's bodies; thank God for that, or I would have a problem at work! As an osteopath, I manipulate limbs and bodies all day long; men's bodies; women's bodies. When I'm at my practice, to me they are mostly masses of bones, muscles, fat and flesh that I need to stretch, fold and massage so that the creature they form can function properly. They may be women, I don't really care; as long as they don't start their sweet-talking or adopt their pushy attitude, because I am definitely not interested. I suck dicks but I mostly fuck assholes; and hard, at that. Sue me all you want! Don't like it? Just get out of my way.

Back at my desk, I plainly ignore her flirtatious moves while she dresses back into her short skirt - I don't even know it that can be called a skirt since it barely covers her backside - and her almost see-through blouse; I prepare her receipt, print the document and sign it and then consult my agenda while she finishes. No way!!! How is that possible? How did I manage to schedule my two most painful patients one after the other? That has to be a joke! Fuck! I must have been tired when I accepted the second appointment, because I would never have blocked them consecutively normally; not even on the same day; and much less as my last two appointments of the day!

"Everything alright, Camden?" Mrs. Sanders asks, pulling me out of my vision of horror.

"Yes, sure... Here's your receipt..."

"And here's my black card..." she purrs but once again, I just ignore her, proceed with the payment and get up from my chair to show her out, praying that the twink will have forgotten the appointment for once. One can dream, Cam... As I pass in front of the waiting area, I briefly peek inside the room and realize that dreaming was useless. The twink is really and truly there, already squirming on his chair. Great... "Have a wonderful evening Camden... And see you soon!" Mrs. Sanders says as I open the main door of the practice for her. Or see you never again, I mutter to myself, still sticking a fake smile on my face.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Sanders," I reply firmly before I shut the door. I take a deep breath in an attempt to gather my full self-control. I will definitely need it for the next forty-five minutes.

One reason is that today is Tuesday. I shouldn't be working that late because I never miss Tuesday evenings at my friend Aaron's BDSM club; Tuesday evenings are the less crowded nights so you get a better chance to watch rough shows that verse more into SM than on other nights. Another reason is that I haven't fucked a Sub in almost a week now and that I definitely need some release. To say that I am on edge would be an understatement! Just thinking about the scene I might be missing has my cock twitch inside my jeans and this is certainly not the best time for some horniness. Yet another reason is that the practice is desperately empty at that time of day, so more temptation; the two colleagues with whom I share this place, Ethan and Sarah, don't do late appointments and they left a long time ago already, and since this is my last patient of the day, it means that nobody else is populating the floor of this old building.

Last reason is Shawn Underwood. Young actor, aged twenty-one, with an ascending and fast-growing career in Hollywood. What is he doing in Chicago, then? That's his native city and whenever he is in between movie shootings, this is where he goes, to recharge his batteries, as he puts it. And I can always be sure to see him at least two or three times in a row when he is in the city for a few weeks. I wouldn't really mind so many appointments if he weren't the male equivalent of Mrs. Sanders and this is precisely why I avoid having to deal with the two of them on the same day. Each day has enough trouble of its own, they say. Each day has enough of one painfully flirtatious patient, I say! Anyway, it is not like I can really back off now, so I release the breath I have been holding for the last three or four seconds and go to greet my popular patient in the waiting room.

"Good evening, Mr. Underwood," I call out in a deep tone and the guy jumps from his seat, hastily walking in my direction.

"Good evening, Mr. Hall!!" he cheers as he shakes my hand. "Hey, I think that woman wants in your jeans! Or maybe she wants you in her panties!!" he adds in a confiding tone. No shit Sherlock! "You should have seen how she was ogling your butt while she was following you!!" he chuckles.

"I don't have eyes behind my head, so I can't tell," I reply, rolling my eyes and leading the way to my office. "Don't you dare doing the same, though!" I grunt, and then I hear him giggle behind my back, making me shake my head. "So? How can I help you today, Mr. Underwood?" I ask while I shut the door.

"Oh yeah... Uhm... Well I have a bad pain in my thigh..." he stutters uneasily, blushing a little. And yet, he wears such a mischievous expression that I don't really trust his embarrassment to be related to his supposed pain.

"Alright, I will have a look. Please strip down to your underwear and take a seat on the table," I instruct him while I go back to my desk and pull up his personal file on my laptop. To be honest, if my life was different, I wouldn't hesitate much yielding to his flirtatious habits. Physically, he is not really my style. Dyed platinum blond hair, blue eyes... I have a preference for dark haired guys with green or hazel eyes; but the perfect features of his face, his cute nose and his regular eyebrows still make him a very handsome guy; and I would definitely see those plump lips around my cock. Besides, once you have discarded that weird color of hair, that slender body is just perfect; a bit too tall, maybe; but wearing a nice little six-pack, nothing too big; not skinny and even bearing firm little muscles. Anyway, once bent over, all I am interested in would be his little ass and sadly, this is the only part that I have never seen. Yet.

But as far as I am concerned, my life is too complicated to even try thinking about fucking such a guy. I am a Dominant. A sadistic Dominant who only uses the masochistic Submissives of Aaron's club. Okay, I do use regular Subs once in a while, in the case of rough scenes that don't necessarily involve heavy sadism, but those twinks are still Submissives and they know what to expect and how to behave in the presence of a Dominant. They know how to submit to my orders; they accept to be restrained; they want to be roughly fucked. I have been in the lifestyle for four years now and ever since I joined, I never touched another guy that is not a Submissive. So there is no way I would venture with someone like that! He would never be able to deal with my urges... I have joked with my friends about that actor a few times already, and with Mark no earlier than a few days ago, saying that I should bring the twink to my playroom and show him how I can play with toys, but I don't think I would ever do that. The guy would just run away screaming.

I sigh, looking at his file; a sigh that I easily transform into a chuckle when I see all the appointments we had in the past three years. Except for the first one, when he visited for a really stiff neck, none of the next thirty-two appointments we had were justified; most were related to a painful back or stiff hips but I never noticed any peculiar anomaly or tension in any part of his body; except in his briefs. There, there is always some tension and nothing small at that!

"Alright, let's have a look!" I say as I stand up and walk around my desk to meet him at the massage table where he is sitting, his back to me, and in the same turquoise blue briefs with white seams I have ever seen him in. Either that's his only pair and he cleans them every day or the guy had a good deal on a huge batch of the same model because I could swear that I have never seen him wear anything else. "How has your hip been since our last appointment one week ago?" I ask as I first perform a preliminary check of his back.

"Oh... It's quite okay... You did a wonderful job, as usual, Mr. Hall!" he cheers. Or I didn't really have anything to heal, Mr. Flirt!

"Glad to hear... Lie down on the table," I then instruct. Once he is in the required position, I verify the alignment of his hips as well as their rotational movements. Of course, I can't help noticing the bulge forming in the guy's briefs while I manipulate his body. "Everything looks good here," I absentmindedly comment as I move to quickly examine his knees.

"Oh I confirm that everything is good..." he replies suggestively in a small voice, giving me hard time to suppress another chuckle.

"So, where is this pain you told me about?" I ask, looking into his intense eyes when he sits up.

"Hmm... It's here..." he replies, rubbing the upper part of his left inner thigh. "And it goes up to... here..." he then lingers, showing me the junctional area between the abdomen and the thigh on the left side of his pubic bone.

"This is called the groin, Mr. Underwood. Have you made any false move recently?" I ask as I start feeling his muscles there. Or you put a little too much effort into jacking off, I think to myself. And as if he was able to read my mind, the blond twink blushes furiously.

"Nothing in particular..." he mumbles.

"Here, you have the hip abductor muscle," I explain, tracing the muscle along the inside of his thigh, adding a bit more pressure when I pass over his groin and close to his perineum and pubic areas, and I clearly see his penis twitch under the fabric of his briefs from the corner of my eye. Well, two can play the flirting game after all! "You may have caused a little injury by straining that muscle. Unfortunately, as an osteopath, there is not much I can do for you, here. What you need to do is get an anti-inflammatory ointment and massage the area twice a day."

"Oh..." he gasps with mock innocence as he leans back on his elbows and opens his leg further apart. "And would you be able to do this massage, Doctor Hall? Or at least show me how to do this?" he continues, bearing a very smug expression on his face and all I can think of right now is to flip him around and fuck him senseless. That would be a first in my office! I suddenly can't help thinking about my friend Josh who must have taken his Sub Liam on about all the surfaces of his own office. Oh God! Calm down, Cam!! But how am I supposed to resist to this boy's call? No way! I can't do that! I think it's time to make things clear with this flirting creep.

"I swear you don't want me to show you, Mr. Underwood," I reply firmly, with my hand still pressed against his thigh. He cocks an eyebrow and his smile broadens widely.

"I wouldn't mind..." he whispers.

"I'm sure you would. We don't really play on the same kind of playgrounds..." I argue.

"Aren't you gay, Mr. Hall?"

"Do I look gay? And even if I was, I don't think it would be any of your business."

"I agree that this is none of my business indeed. However, you look like one of those powerful alphas in BDSM and you are very attractive..." he chants. Now he has my attention; talk about BDSM and you get all my consideration. My hand slowly reaches further up his thigh until the space between my thumb and my index finger gets blocked at the junction of his groin.

"Really? And what do you know about BDSM exactly?"

"Oh not much, actually. Just a few things I read in books, you know..."

"What you read in books may be different than reality. You might be right though, but Dominants usually don't deal with inexperienced Submissives, Mr. Underwood." Just as I am about to lean back up, almost determined to kick him out and hurry to the club to fuck the first available Sub, he takes me by surprise and manages to pull my hand over his crotch, making me feel how hard he is.

"My groin aches, Doctor. Please, help me..." he begs me seductively, and this time, I believe he refers to the other use of the word.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Mr. Underwood, and I think you should be able to take care of your wood yourself."

"Please..."

"I don't think so," I reply, shifting my hand further down and squeezing his balls. He lets out a small squeak and falls back on the massage table. "You see? I am not sure that you are ready to endure a bit of pain."

"Yes! I can totally do this!" he insists, offering himself to me by spreading his legs further open.

"Can you really submit to orders, Mr. Underwood? Can you surrender your powers for half an hour? Can you bear to be tied up and let me control you? Do you think you can try and go a little over your limits? Can you really do all this without even the guarantee that you'll get a release?"

"Yes... I'm willing to try..." he replies with heavy pants.

"What if I decide to not let you cum?"

"Mmh... that's okay!" he replies firmly.

After a long minute of intense staring, I go and fetch two bottles from the cupboards, as well a little square package that I slip inside the pocket of my jeans before I return to the table where he is still waiting for me in the same offering position. I discard one of the bottles aside and spread a bit of the anti-inflammatory ointment on his left thigh, then begin to rub it into his skin. I don't dwell too much on what I am about to do. I am so fucking horny that I don't even try to fight my need for release any longer, but the Sadist that I am well intends to give him a lesson for jumping into things he doesn't know much about.

"Do you know what safewords are?"

"Yes, Mr. Hall."

"You'll call me Sir as of now and until you leave this office," I say firmly, rubbing closer and closer to his crotch. "Red to stop, Yellow to slow down. Does that work for you?"

"Nghhh... Yes Sir..." he replies as I slip my hand through the side of his briefs and reach for his erection on a surprisingly shaved area. I give his shaft a few strokes then retrieve my hand, leaving him frustrated. And this is only the beginning! I take off his underwear, not caring about how he blushes even more as he tries to hide himself with his hands.

"Hands along your sides for now!" I growl. There is no more time for embarrassment now, Boy! I watch him rest his hands on each side of his body, revealing a perfectly shaved area; his fairly long and thick cock stands proud and its head is all wet with precum. I search my drawers for a piece of rope and pull on the string of an old pair of scrub trousers I had there; that should do. I also get the tie belt of an overall I never wear and head back to him. "Sit up, for a minute." The young immediately complies and I use the overall belt to tie his wrists firmly together behind his back, then help him to lie back down. "Fold your knees and spread your legs."

My tone is commanding enough for him to obey right away. I pull out the string and start wrapping it tightly enough around the base of his erection and behind his balls; this is just as efficient as a cock ring, if not more, and should prevent him from climaxing until I give him permission to; and if I ever do. Just to tease him a little more, I lean down and lick him from the base of his shaft up to the mushroom part that I greedily take briefly into my mouth, making him gasp and moan in more frustration when I lean back up; frustration is definitely an important side of sadism. Then I silently circle around the table a few times, my eyes never leaving him, while I explain a few things.

"You are not allowed to talk unless I ask you a direct question. You may ask for permission to speak, though, but only if that's necessary. I don't know the reactions of your body; I don't know what your limits are; both physically and mentally. So I want you to safeword whenever you need it. If you say yellow, I will slow down or move on to something else. If you say red, the scene will end right away, and we won't get back to it. Are you still ready for this?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you have any question?"

"No, Sir."

"Good boy!" I stop at the head of the table and pull him toward me, until his head is able to tilt back over the edge. I see him watch my hands unbuckle my belt, unbutton my fly and pull out my erection that is leaking with precum. His eyes open widely when he notices the piercing jewel on my cock but I don't give him time to dwell on it. "Open your mouth!" I order and as soon as his lips and teeth part, I grab each side of his head and push myself into his mouth.

I begin rather slowly, first only letting the head inside; his generous lips close around my girth and he starts sucking, swirling his tongue around my shaft. After a couple of minutes of gentle teasing, I try to get a bit deeper and his gag reflex makes him blurt out some rather loud noises; not that I really care. Some people hate these noises, others love them; I just don't mind and as I get a better angle, I tell him to relax his throat and breathe through his nose; then I start thrusting deeper and until I reach past the back of his throat. His chest is heaving from the effort, but I realize that he is feeling damn good. I might as well stop the scene here and release in his mouth, but I am too tempted to see how tight this Hollywood star is.

"Good boy, you're doing great!" I praise him once I have pulled out of his mouth. I walk to the other side of the table and pull on his body until his butt juts out of the edge, catching the bottle of lube I had left there before it falls. Just don't ask me why I have lube and condoms in my practice. The answer might simply be that I was waiting for such a day to arrive. And now that it is here, I might as well enjoy it. I pour a bit of lube in my right hand and wrap my fingers around his shaft, giving it slow and full-length strokes. The twink moans his pleasure and he gets louder as I increase the pace of my moves.

"Please... please... I want to cum... I can't..."

"Of course you can't, Pet!" I chuckle, then let go of his hard stick. While he recovers from his pants, I add more lube in my hand and smear the substance between his buttocks, insisting on his entrance, then shove two fingers all at once inside his hole, making him yelp and bulk his hips. "Oh Gooooooooood!!" he squeals, but his screams soon get back to loud moans as my left hand takes care of his shaft again. The ring of muscles eventually loosens sufficiently for me to add a third finger, and then a fourth one. That hole has definitely been used - and abused - quite a lot it seems, and I am soon able to scissor him easily.

"I think you're ready, Pet!" I say.

I step on the pedal that lowers the table a little, then help him down and make him bend over, with his upper chest and right side of his face resting on the table. I pull out my junk again as well as the condom from my pocket and unroll it over my shaft, cautious not to tear the rubber with my piercing, then take off my tee-shirt and pull down my jeans and boxer briefs to my ankles; I don't even bother to add more lube and without any further warning, I grab his hips and slam into his ass. Unsurprisingly, his stretched hole swallows my thick cock very easily. I guess I would have preferred a tight hole, but right now, I just don't care. All I want is to finally reach my orgasm and prove this young man that he shouldn't flirt with just anybody. As I ram into his asshole, I feel the fire build down my groin and slow down the pace, then lean over his back.

"How do you like my wood, Mr. Underwood?" I whisper into his ear, swaying my hips to rub my cock against his prostate.

"Feels like... a log... Sir," he breathes out.

"The fireplace is quite large, though," I comment with sarcasm. I almost fully pull out of him, only leaving the head of my cock inside, and slam back in, straight against his bundle of nerves and slapping my hips against his backside. I stay buried deep for a few seconds and repeat the action once more with a loud grunt. And twice more again. "How is the fire building down there?" I ask in a smug tone.

"Sparkling hot... Sir... Please... I need to cum..."

"Oh no you don't, Mr. Underwood!" I growl as I grab a handful of his hair and lean back up. My left hand wraps around his tied wrists and both my arms pull on their holds, forcing him to arch his back a little more. "Someone has been teasingly naughty for the last three years, provoking me at each of our appointments. I believe it's time for a little revenge... Don't forget to safeword if you need to!"

With that, I resume my thrusts inside his now fully stretched hole, quickly peaking up the pace. The young man keeps pleading for his desire to climax, but he never pronounces the words that would make me slow down or stop. I am grateful for the late hour because the office is filled with loud noises between the twink's screams and moans, my deep grunts and my hips slapping his butt. As I sense my balls tighten up, I give him a last rough pounding and let go of my load at the deepest of his ass and inside the condom. Of fuck!! It was not bad!

I slowly pull my now limp cock out of his ass and make him sit on the table before I get rid of the condom in the trash and tuck myself back in. I put my tee-shirt back on, then I praise him on how good he has been while I untie his hands and proceed with a massage of his shoulders and arms. I don't know if I will ever see him again after that, but I don't really mind. I still enjoyed myself a lot. And yet, here comes the best part.

Shawn Underwood is sitting on the massage table, still breathing a bit heavily when I walk around to face him, his legs still spread wide apart and dangling from the table. He looks up at me with very expectant eyes and I can read the plea for release displaying in his blue orbs. However, I help him down the table, gather his clothes and start dressing him up.

"But..." he begins to say when I pull up his briefs and cover his still restrained privates. "Are you not going to..."

"Going to what, Mr. Underwood?" I ask after a few seconds of silence and while button his jeans. "Provide you some release? I never said I would..."

"Ugh... please..." he begs, reaching for his pants but I grasp his wrists and force them at the small of his back, pressing him against me.

"Certainly not in here, Mr. Underwood. Submissives are not allowed to touch themselves unless their Dominants give them permission to. However, consider yourself free to help yourself as soon as you will have walked out of this practice; but as long as you're here, forget about it."

"Are you... Is this like a..."

"Yes, this can be seen as a punishment for all the baiting and teasing over the last three years. Let's say that you entered the BDSM lifestyle with a punishment. It does happen sometimes. Some subs just can't spend their first day without fucking up and the first thing they get is a punishment. Orgasm denial is a form of punishment. Now you don't want to keep this string too much longer so I suggest you finish dressing up and leave. I should warn you, though, about where you will be when you remove the knot and free your junk... I promise you an explosion of bliss when you do so you probably don't want to do that in public... I'm not sure you'll be able to quiet your moans..."

After that, I return to my desk, feeling lighter down there and prepare my paper work while he finishes dressing up.

"How much do I owe you, Sir?"

"Nothing for today, it was my pleasure," I reply as I stand up to show him out. "I hope you still enjoyed yourself, Mr. Underwood?"

"Greatly... Thank you, Sir... See you soon..." he replies meekly and I could almost cum in my pants just from the expression of frustration on his face. Sadism is not all about giving physical pain. I do love my cat o'nine floggers, canes, wooden paddles, leathers straps and cock toys to administrate physical pain, but I also have a soft spot for mental torture; and frustration is definitely one of my favorite tools.

"See you in a few months, maybe?" I reply with a smirk.

"Or next week... Could I call you Daddy?" he then asks, blushing deeply and making me laugh out.

"I'm not into that kink. At all! So forget it!"

"Oh okay... I'm just wondering... Will you... let me... come... next time?" he pants, writhing on his feet like someone who needs to use the restrooms.

"I certainly would since you have been a good boy today. However, I am not sure to be a suitable person for you and I don't do relationships, so you wouldn't go anywhere with me. But I know a very serious private club in Chicago so if you develop a certain interest in this lifestyle, I would gladly introduce you to its owner and he would advise you on how to become a member."

"Really? You would do that?"

"Certainly. Just take the time to think about it and we can discuss this at some point."

"Thank you, Sir. Have a good night!"

"You too!"

I shut the entrance door of the practice and head back to my office. I haven't reached my door that I hear some muffled moans coming from outside and this time, I don't refrain on my chuckle and go to sit at my desk to finish some paperwork. It is now too late to go to the club and when I check my phone, I am not surprised to see messages from my friend Aaron. Shit! Someone's going to be a pain in my ass when I tell him what happened tonight!

Published on 12 March 2017

Here you go with the first one-shot of this book, and as Twisted Moon is coming up soon, I thought that a little insight into Camden's head would be nice to thank you for your patience. There was a little mention of that in chapter 38 of I Was Shooting For The Moon.

Hope you enjoyed it anyway! And thank you Cara-tesora-mia for having been the first to suggest this one ;)