Fresh Cut

Isaiah and Adam had been doing this dance for months. Meetings and play scenes to tickle each other's fancy. Adam liked control and Isaiah liked giving it up; it worked well for them. However, Isaiah grew restless, expressing he felt he wanted more. The very thought tickled Adam. Isaiah was a nice kid, but he didn't know when he was in over his head.

Adorable. Adam would think to himself as Isaiah writhed beneath his hands. Needy whines and soft begging drawn out by nothing more than the whistle and snap of a cane. It was all too easy, but Adam admired how Isaiah always came back for more. Perhaps he could be useful.

Over time, things cemented. Adam found himself often turning memories over in his mind of Isaiah's lips kissing the underside of his cock. At the same time, Isaiah couldn't jerk off without the ghosts of Adam's hands around his neck. They were falling, and all they needed to do was take a final step.

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Isaiah rolled his shoulders, letting out some of the tension he had caught in his muscle. His hands flexed where they were bound behind his back. If he stretched his fingertips he could just barely touch his opposite elbows, but mostly he let his hands hang where the cuffs held them.

They're sturdy pieces of metal, the cuffs. Steel, if Isaiah had to guess, secured with a few links of thick chain. When Adam first produced them, Isaiah had laughed. He had been expecting soft pleather, perhaps with a faux fur interior. He was used to soft minky fabrics and plush feathers, not harsh metal.

"I'm serious. Turn around." Adam had held up the cuffs with one hand and twirled a finger with the other as he beckoned Isaiah to obey. He found Isaiah's protests amusing. "Hands behind your back."

Isaiah didn't move at first, and Adam could see the calculations tallying up in the smaller man's head. Obviously, Isaiah wasn't a virgin, but perhaps he wasn't as ready as Adam had thought. Concern must have shown in the crinkle of his brow, because Isaiah rolled his eyes.

"I'm not afraid of some hardware, but this just seems... excessive." Isaiah was sure Adam had some rope laying around, there was no need to bruise his delicate wrists.

Adam closed the distance between them and thread his fingers through Isaiah's long hair, massaging the pads of his fingertips into the smaller man's scalp. His touch was so gentle, Isaiah couldn't help the soft smile it pulled from his lips. Adam was nice when he needed to be, and that set off a warm feeling in Isaiah's chest that the smaller man swallowed down admirably. It was easier to ignore his feelings when Adam was grinding his boot into Isaiah's cunt, face twisted into a sick sneer as he ridiculed him for just how badly he enjoyed it.

Right at this moment, however, there was no boot and the floor was cold beneath Isaiah's knees. The metal of the cuffs had long warmed to his skin, but still sat heavy at the ends of his wrists. Adam was somewhere behind him, though Isaiah didn't dare crane to sneak a peek at what the other man was doing. He could hear the footsteps and knew Adam would return shortly. Anticipation smoldered up Isaiah's spine, leaving a crackling, burning feeling in his skin. He wished Adam would say something, would give him a hint as to what tonight was about. He started to bounce, fidgeting where he kneeled, but froze when Adam placed a hand on his shoulder. Fingers pinched the muscle there, a silent order.

Be patient. Be still.

Isaiah took a deep breath in and swallowed the saliva that had started to accumulate beneath his tongue. His shoulders rolled again and the tension started to melt off his frame. Adam gave his shoulder another small squeeze, plus a light, playful tap, before he returned to whatever the fuck was taking so long.

Isaiah stared forward. He found a spot on the wall and let his vision tunnel to it, an interesting shape in the shadow of some decor, plastered across the beige landscape across from him. Slowly, he lost track of his limbs, his skin, and where it all came together. Floating away, he was startled when Adam's hands were suddenly caressing his biceps.

"You alright?" Adam muttered into Isaiah's neck, brushing away his long hair and pressing his lips to the skin there. Electricity vibrated in Isaiah's bones, radiating down his spine.

"I'm bored." Isaiah whined, a playful lilt in his tone. Isaiah didn't do very well with patience and Adam was excited to see how well he could extend the smaller man's attention span. Isaiah whined when Adam's warmth was suddenly gone, the other man stepping away, back into Isaiah's blindspot.

"What's your color?" Adam's voice back into his familiar stern tone. Isaiah sat a little straighter.

"Green, sir!" The impatience that permeated Isaiah's voice lit a fire in Adam's chest. Isaiah really gave it up so easy.

Isaiah barely heard the sound that escaped his own throat as Adam's hand connected with the back of his head. Fingers tangled in his long, soft locks as his skull was wrenched forward. Isaiah adjusted his weight as best he could, but with his arms bound and the iron grip Adam had on his hair left Isaiah with little options for movement. Most of his weight was now placed on his scalp, his chin curled in, as if straining to touch his chest. His ass lifted an inch or so off his heels, leaving him in an unfortunate predicament. Chest expanding as Isaiah breathed deep, his eyes shut tight for a moment, then opened again. A soft hum rumbled in his chest as he attempted to relax, though it quickly turned desperate.

"You want to be mine?" Adam's voice edged on mocking and he gave Isaiah's head a rattle. The grin that split Isaiah's face was toothy and wild with excitement.

"Yes, sir." Isaiah's all-too-eager tone made Adam roll his eyes, up behind Isaiah where the smaller man won't see, as he dropped Isaiah back to the ground. Slowly, he gathered that long, gorgeous hair together into a loose ponytail. Isaiah tipped his head gently to the sides, ensuring Adam could drag his fingers across every inch of his scalp. The sensation of Adam playing with his hair was exquisitely calming and Isaiah's eyes drifted closed.

"This isn't a game. You're certain?" Adam gripped Isaiah's thick locks in one hand and pulled, once again lifting the smaller man up an inch or so off the floor.

"Yes, sir!" Isaiah squeaked his reply, grunting in the most adorable way as his hair was released. Adam's cock twitched to life in his clothes as he turned back to his supplies.

"Good boy." His voice was little more than a rumble, but Isaiah relished it nonetheless.

After a long while Isaiah shifted on his knees, still unwilling to turn and face Adam, but growing restless. When nothing happened for what felt like an eternity, Isaiah couldn't help but speak up.

"Sir?" He was glad his voice didn't shake, though it wasn't as strong as he had hoped.

"Quiet. You'll speak when spoken to." Adam snapped back, his voice low and commanding. Isaiah sat up a little straighter as Adam approached him from behind.

Quickly and efficiently he was moved into position by Adam's sturdy hand on his neck, calloused fingers and palm hot enough to burn. Isaiah let Adam tip his head forward and he felt his hair being pushed aside, exposing his nape. Adam's mouth salivated at the sight.

"You want me to own you?" Adam's voice was more tender than before, his thumb rubbed a soothing circle into Isaiah's scalp at the very base of his skull.

"Yes, sir." Isaiah whispered the words, excitement and nervous energy mixing in his chest. He shuddered when the clippers clicked on, the droning buzz rattling in his bones. Adam adjusted the grip on the smaller man's hair, holding him so very firmly in place.

"Last chance. What's your color?" Adam was a reasonable man and of course gave Isaiah an out. Little man could end this now, no harm, no foul.

"Green, sir."

Electricity shot up Adam's spine. His nostrils flared and if Isaiah had looked up he would have seen the fire in his eyes. He almost groaned, but instead leaned forward to press a kiss to Isaiah's forehead.

"Don't cry." The warning was clear in Adam's voice and Isaiah nodded, eyes wide as he stared forward.

The subtle change in the buzzer's tone as it shore off the first of Isaiah's locks made the smaller man shrink, his back arched inward to escape the sensation. Goosebumps patterned his flesh. Adam swallowed hard as the thick, dark locks drifted to the floor.

"Hold still." Adam sounded out of breath already and his grip tightened painfully in Isaiah's hair. The buzzers connected with the nape of his neck again and drew a line upwards, reaching for the crown of his head. Isaiah bit back a whine at the loss.

Despite it all, Isaiah felt something release inside him as Adam worked. He watched his hair, shining locks he had spent years maintaining, collect in a heap on the floor. His old self was being cut away, marble chiseled off to expose Adam's vision. The discarded hair fanned out next to his naked thighs, piling up in soft clumps. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes, but he blinked them away. The clippers dragged across his scalp in an almost meditative drone. Up the back of his skull and over his crown. Curving around each ear. The cold caress of fresh air on his newly exposed skin surprised him, though he supposed he should have expected it.

Adam didn't speak, turning Isaiah's head with a clinical focus, ensuring the cut was clean and even. His cock filled out as he eyed the newly shorn skin, his member laying heavily trapped against his thigh. He brushed clumps of hair off Isaiah's shoulders, running his hands over the fuzz left on the smaller man's scalp. Loose hairs dusted off, gliding into the air and collecting on the floor with the rest.

The room was quiet. Isaiah looked down at what was once, he thought, his most beautiful feature. Nothing but waste now. Tears pricked his eyes again, and this time he wasn't fast enough to stop them from collecting. The moisture welled and fell, one or two drops at first, onto his stomach and thighs. Adam watched with unrestrained delight.

"Careful, I told you not to cry." Adam's grin was sinister, betraying his true feelings. His cock throbbed where it lay trapped in his clothes. He almost groaned out loud when Isaiah sniffled, trying to pull himself together.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Isaiah's voice was so small now, all his bravado and sass seemingly melted away. Adam ran his hands over the smaller man's head, coming to rest on the back of his skull. His palm was wide and with his fingers splayed he could easily cup the entirety of the back of Isaiah's head.

"Don't worry, dear. I'm sure you can make it up to me." Adam cooed, delighted by the way the tears streaked silently down Isaiah's face. The smaller man looked up at him, brows drawn in apprehension, but he made no sound in protest.

Adam tilted Isaiah's chin up, watching the smaller man's face, his own expression pensive but betrayed nothing.

"Let's get you cleaned up." Adam gave Isaiah's cheek a light tap and moved away from where he kneeled on the floor. He called out as he left the room, heading for the back door of the house. "Follow me."

Isaiah carefully maneuvered himself to his feet, balancing on one foot and then the other. It was difficult with his hands still bound behind his back, but he managed fine enough. Stray hairs were brushed free by his movements and he was sure he would leave a trail behind him as he moved through the halls. He didn't have time to dwell when he heard the back door open and shut. Adam would be waiting for him.

Isaiah had an idea of what he would be walking into when he neared the sliding glass door, but still was surprised to see Adam out back, hose in hand. The bound man shivered where he stood, naked in front of the window.

He isn't serious. Isaiah thought to himself, but part of him knew Adam was absolutely serious. He might not have known Adam long, but he could tell when the other man was joking.

Isaiah couldn't open the door with his hands bound, so Adam took pity on him and moved to slide it open himself.

"Your bath awaits." Adam didn't try to hide his excitement, his grin bordered on cruel. A wave of his hand was all the indication Isaiah needed before he was stepping out into the yard, naked and bound, he must have been a sight. He knew that really, no one could see them where they were, but the fear in his gut didn't quell. He shivered in the evening air.

"Couldn't have done this on a hot day?" Isaiah mumbled, half laughing nervously, as he looked up at the overcast sky. It was not dreadfully cold, but the spring night was still quite young, and the temperature would drop quickly.

The jet of water felt like a frozen spear where it connected with the small of Isaiah's back. Instinctively, he yelped, jumping away from the cold spray.

"No, no. You're filthy. Kneel." Adam did his best to conceal how ravenously excited he was. In response to this order, Isaiah stood there with just the right amount of hesitation, caught between his own comfort and his need to obey. Pride rose in Adam's chest as Isaiah stepped forward and carefully knelt, back straight and shaved head hung in defeat. Truly the picture of submission.

Adam took pity on him once again, the hose clicked in his hand and the setting was changed to shower. He couldn't do anything about the temperature, but he wasn't sure he would have changed it had it been an option. Maybe if he could have made it colder.

The spray was gentle now, but Isaiah still writhed as the cold water washed over his scalp, down his neck, over his back and down his ass. The water pooled beneath his knees, mixing into the dirt. He was like an animal being rinsed off in the mud. Isaiah had never been a prideful man, but this level of degradation and submission tore down the remaining walls he had built. He thought of his hair as the water washed any memory of it away. Slowly, he got used to it, the water on his back didn't bite as hard as it had in the beginning.

"Look up at me." Adam turned his attention to Isaiah's front, beginning with his face and working down his chest, over his stomach and lower. He refrained from turning the hose back to jet just to watch Isaiah squirm, tempting as it was.

Isaiah still squirmed beautifully, sputtering at the sudden spray on his face, gasping for air in surprise. His head shook the excess water off his face, attempting to keep his eyes on Adam, even though as the shower traced lower Isaiah writhed as if being flogged. Adam zig-zagged the stream just to watch Isaiah struggle to hold his gaze.

The cold water combined with the cooling evening air was certainly beginning to nip at the younger man's skin. Spots of red followed in the water's path. Isaiah began to shiver, but still he kept his eyes on Adam.

Adam tossed the hose to the side, satisfied with his work for now. Isaiah knelt in a deep puddle of muddy water and would need a second rinse, but he couldn't wait any longer. As he stepped forward he took Isaiah's head in his hands, one palm on either temple. Gentle once again.

As Adam brought a hand to his belt, undoing the strap with ease, Isaiah's mouth watered. For a moment, he felt a loss that Adam could no longer grip his hair tight as he fucked deep into his throat. He supposed it wasn't his decision anymore; it was Adam's.

Something flashed to life in his gut at the realization, heat and electricity colliding. Adam owned him. This wasn't a game of pretend. A shiver ran up his spine when he realized how deep he wanted this to go. Isaiah wanted Adam to have his life in his hands, but that wasn't possible, was it? Isaiah's mouth fell open, greedily waiting to accept Adam's cock.

When Adam freed himself from the prison of his clothes his cock was rock solid and ruddy at the tip. Precum pearled in his slit as he stroked himself inches from Isaiah's lips. He wouldn't last long, not when Isaiah looked up at him like that; lashes beaded with water and cheeks flushed red. His perfect mouth hung open, eager for Adam's cock, even as the rest of him trembled. His eyes half-open and he looked to be in a daze.

Good boy. Perfect boy. Adam thought to himself, but didn't offer Isaiah the praise out loud. There would be time for that.

"What's your color, dear?" Adam continued to stroke his cock, but at least offered a warm palm to Isaiah's cheek, who nuzzled into it dutifully. Isaiah's eyes drifted fully shut and he didn't answer. Adam wasn't sure if Isaiah heard him at all.

Isaiah was brought out of his daze instantly and expertedly by the quick strike of Adam's palm square in the meat of his cheek. Adam didn't pull the slap at all. Isaiah crumpled with a whine.

"What is your color?" Adam's tone betrayed his frustration at having to repeat himself, but he would be lenient this time.

Isaiah looked up at him. Hesitation, conflict, fear. It all swirled so beautiful in Isaiah's eyes, the furrow of his brow. Adam made no move, face betrayed no emotion, clearly waiting for Isaiah's response before he continued.

"... Green, sir." Isaiah didn't sound sure, and his voice quivered in his chill, but with the way his eyes flicked down to Adam's swollen cock told the larger man all he needed to know. He supposed he could be kind, this one time.

Adam brought both hands to the back of Isaiah's head, tugged the smaller man forward, and buried his cock in the wet heat of Isaiah's mouth. A groan escaped his lips as Isaiah descended on him, working him with tongue and lips. Adam decided to forgo the niceties and simply fucked Isaiah's mouth as hard as he liked. Isaiah attempted to relax his throat and control his breathing, but still choked beautifully on Adam's cock.

"You're mine." Adam muttered more to himself than Isaiah, who probably couldn't hear it over the wet slap of skin on skin or even his own choked groans. "I'm going to do whatever I want with you."

Tears streaked involuntarily down Isaiah's face. Drool coated his chin and dripped off to his chest. He gagged and wretched, shoulders heaving, but made no fight to free himself.

Adam's rhythm grew unsteady and desperate as he neared the edge. His hands gripped hard, fingernails digging into the now exposed skin of Isaiah's scalp. He forced his cock deep in Isaiah's throat, fuckimg hard into that tight, gagging heat. Within moments he was coming and he pulled out to wrap a fist around himself.

Adam's cum shot across Isaiah's skull, leaving streaks of white on the freshly cut hair, pooling and dripping down the back and sides of the shorn man's head. A drop ran down Isaiah's forehead, headed for his eye, determined to blind him. Isaiah could only shut his eyes to prevent just that from happening. Adam stood over him and appraised the sight laid out before him.

Isaiah shivered in his bonds, at this point unable to stop his teeth as they chattered. His skin was flushed red nearly all over, the water having added significantly to the chill in the air, the temperature had indeed dropped rapidly. Adam could see where the earth was digging into Isaiah's shins and knew it must have been uncomfortable. Isaiah kept his head lowered, eyes firmly shut.

Adam moved over to the hose again and Isaiah whined, one unobstructed eye cracked open.

"Sir, please." Isaiah's voice edged on desperate and if Adam had been a softer man it might've plucked at his heartstrings. Unfortunately, Adam was not a softer man, and he turned the hose on Isaiah once again.

"Stand up." Adam barked and Isaiah obeyed, balancing up on one foot and then the other. Adam hosed off his muddy shins and had Isaiah turn, ensuring he was clean front to back while also getting a good view of today's handiwork, before he turned off the hose and rolled it away. Gently, he led Isaiah inside to a warm shower.

As Isaiah showered, cuffs removed, plans began to form in Adam's head of what tomorrow would bring. Isaiah was exceptionally promising; obedient and eager to please, with just enough fight to make it interesting. It would be a pleasure to break him.

Adam began searching for metal collars that night.