Fiction – Up Top (mostly SFW)

I haven’t done one of these in a very long while. It’s mostly safe for work.

Not sure about the world. This one literally came to me as I wrote it. Any editorial errors are all mine. Enjoy!


©2018 Jet Mykles

“Come here.”

Dean hesitated.

Roland’s dark brows lowered. “Come. Here.”

Hands dug deep in his pockets, Dean lowered his head and slunk across the polished stone floor toward his master. He didn’t stop until he saw the shine of expensive black shoes. If he didn’t already know he was in trouble, the bounce of the toe of the shoe of one crossed leg told him. He stopped and kept his head down, his face shielded by the shiny curls of his gold hair. That was going to annoy Roland too. His master liked his hair just long enough to grab but not enough to brush his shoulders. It was beyond that now.

“Look at me.”

Although he tried to hide it, Dean winced. Taking a deep breath, he slowly raised his head until he could just see his master’s face through his eyelashes. Oh shit, yeah he was pissed. Those amazing violet eyes sparked with barely leashed fire. Dean bit his lip, only a little gratified when the move briefly caught Roland’s attention. Roland liked his lips. Maybe if he dropped to his knees and serviced his master like he was supposed to…

“Where were you?”


“Don’t lie to me.”

Dean froze. Since he didn’t know what Roland knew, he didn’t know how much he could just not say.

“Damn you, don’t you even think of leaving anything out.” One of those long-fingered hands snatched the front of Dean’s shirt, hauling him forward. He barely caught his balance with his hands on Roland’s shoulders and couldn’t stop the intimate eye-to-eye contact when their noses almost bumped. Violet eyes blazed. “I was worried about you.”

Dean swallowed.  No one else was in the room so there was no hope of propriety sneaking in to leash Roland’s fury. If Dean cried out, no one would come to save him. He was Roland’s, body and soul, to do with as he would.

“I just wanted to see…”

“See what?” Roland demanded when Dean trailed off.

Dean swallowed again, blinking back the tears that burned his eyes. “Up top.”

Maybe a little softening of the blade-edged rage? Maybe Dean was only hoping.

The hand bunched in his t-shirt shook him enough to rattle his brain. “That isn’t for you anymore, pup.”

Pup. The use of the endearment had to be a good sign, yeah? “I know.” A tear leaked out of his right eye.

Roland growled deep in his chest, one corner of his beautiful mouth raising in a snarl that displayed impressive carnal canines. “That isn’t for you anymore.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you insist on going there?”

Gulping back a sob, he closed his eyes against the hurt that manifested beneath Roland’s rage. “I don’t know.”

Of a sudden, he was in Roland’s lap, strong arms banded about him before the first sob broke. Instinctively, he burrowed against Roland’s strong chest and cried into the curve of his neck.

Gentle lips brushed his forehead. “If I’d known you’d have this much trouble, I’d never have changed you.”

Desperately, Dean clutched Roland’s shirt. The panic that seared his chest was cold and biting. “No! No, I need you. I-I need this. Us. I couldn’t…”

“Shhh.” Roland stroked his hair. “Stop fretting. I couldn’t release you now if I tried.”

Dean frowned into Roland’s neck, unsure if Roland believed that inability was a good thing. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, pup?”

Hearing the faint amusement along with heavy exasperation, Dean relaxed a little. “Everything?”

The rueful chuckle in the chest under his cheek warmed him. Roland’s fingers combed through his hair, lips braced against the crown of his head. “I worry for you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t have the luxury to worry for you.”

Dean shrank. “I know.”

Roland sighed. “If you know, then why do you keep on?”

Dean breathed in that enticing dark scent on his master’s skin. A scent he’d never before known could be his world. “I won’t do it anymore.”

“You said that before.”

“I know, I know. But this time…” He pulled back so he could look at that face he loved so much. At the man he needed so much. He knew now that Roland was a man, despite what they said up top. He was a man who was so much more than a man. “This time I saw it. It’s not the same. It’s not for me. There’s no going back.”

Roland’s eyes narrowed, studying his face. “What changed?”

“I… they…” He closed his eyes against the pain of the memory. “They barely even saw me. Not me. They saw…”

“A monster.”

Biting his lip, Dean nodded.

“You are.” Gentle fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. “To them, you are a monster.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” He clutched at Roland’s shirt. “Now.”

“Ah, pup.” The same fingers cupped Dean’s chin, tilting his head back.  “You mean the world. To me.”

Warm lips brushed his and Dean closed his eyes to pleasure his master’s touch sang through him. He opened his mouth to the tongue that slid easily inside. A whimper escaped as he wound his arms about his master’s neck, succumbing to the surge of need that permeated his very bones. Strong hands slid through his hair, then down his back. One stopped to hold him close while the other spread down his thigh then back to his hip. Those hands knew every inch of him and he could barely wait to let them get reacquainted.

“You’re mine.” A hand, back in his hair, clutched to the point of pain.

Dean relaxed into that hold. “Yours.”

“You do not belong up top anymore. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

He dragged Dean’s face close, not close enough to kiss but close enough to make his point. “If you disobey me again, I may have to end you.” Roland shook him. “Do you understand?”

Dean gulped. A year ago, he’d been a normal college student. Then he’d stumbled into a dark phantasmic world and now he was little more than a pleasure slave. For now. Roland promised him that he could change his lot, if he worked, if he paid attention. And if he obeyed.  If he didn’t do all those things, Roland would end him and he’d been assured that it was so much worse than death. He bared his throat. “Yes, master.”

The snarl from Roland’s chest would have scared him before. Now, it fired every one of his nerve endings to a pleasure so intense it was also pain. He closed his eyes when his master’s head lowered, when hot breath fanned the delicate skin protecting his pulse. He gasped in pure longing when teeth penetrated his being before his life’s blood poured down his master’s throat.

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