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This book is a work of fiction. Names, places,
events and characters are fictitious in every regard.
Any similarities to actual events or persons, living
or dead, is purely coincidental.
Breathless
Adapted from the short story Safeword
Copyright © 2009 Alex Morgan
ISBN 978-1-60054-336-4
His and His Kisses Edition
Cover art and design by Sarah Morton
All rights reserved. Except for review purposes, the
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Published by loveyoudivine Alterotica
2009
Find us on the World Wide Web at
Breathless
By
Alex Morgan
To my partner
Alex Morgan
Prologue
The breeze off the bay carried a chill that foretold of the coming fall and
cold winter close behind. A light fog hitched a ride on the wind and cloaked the
city of Provincetown in surreal and ghostly veils of mist.
A young man stood on a doorstep, taking a drag on a cigarette and
exhaling blue smoke to mix with the haze into the foggy night. The cool air gave
him a respite from the heat inside. The breeze felt good on his shaved head and
bare chest. The leather shorts he wore offered a little protection from the chill. A
shadow fell across him from the doorway behind him.
“Watcha doin‟ out here, boy?” a gruff voice said.
The young man turned toward the sound and smiled. He dropped the
cigarette on the stoop and crushed it under his leather boot. He faced the speaker
with hands behind him in submission, chest out.
“Nothing, sir. Just enjoying a smoke. I‟m boi paolo, Master,” he said
trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
“I know who you are, boy.” Rough hands pinched Paolo‟s nipples and
explored his body. “Nice harness you got there, boy.”
“Thank you, sir!” Paolo responded with military-like sharpness and
courtesy as befitting a slave boi.
“First time to Mates weekend, boy?”
“No, sir. But I‟ve been to leather events before. Been trained by a lot of
masters.” He cocked one eyebrow as if to say „that means I‟m very experienced‟.
“I decided to come here today, Thursday, before it gets so crazy. You can have a
good time without everyone and his dog here strutting around in their harnesses
they bought just before coming here, trying to look like they‟re in the lifestyle.”
Paolo stopped short, realizing that he was starting to sound a bit bitchy and
queeny. And he was rambling. He hated that. Recovering quickly, he turned the
focus back to the master. “So what about you, sir? Are you looking for a slave or
boi?”
The master ignored the question, crooking a finger inside Paolo‟s leather
collar and tugged on it. “Why are you wearing a collar, boy? Are you owned?”
“No, sir. I‟m looking for a master though.” He gave his voice a lift at the
end of the sentence, hoping the master would catch the inference.
“Come back inside, boy. You‟ve got a few lessons to learn.”
5

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