Discipline

The pulse of the city beat beneath his feet with the incessant fury of a machine, a rhythm that, for Alejandro, had always been synonymous with power and control. As a High Executive at the pinnacle of a financial empire, his life was a choreography of tempered steel, where every glance, every word, every decision weighed tons. But in the intimacy of his true being, beneath the weight of Giorgio Armani ties and tailored suits, Alejandro carried a secret servitude, a deep longing for absolute surrender that only a firm hand and a dominant spirit could assuage.

It was on one of those nights of escape, in a discreet dive that smelled of leather and veiled promises, where he met Gael. The young bricklayer did not possess the polished sophistication of his world, but the honest roughness of the earth and the vital force of one who builds with his own hands. He wore a faded t-shirt that clung to muscles forged by the sun and effort, and his eyes, the color of obsidian, burned with an innate authority, a threatening calm that whispered to Alejandro's slave essence an ancient truth: Gael was the Master his soul implored.

The first time Gael took his hand, Alejandro felt an electric shock; it was not the delicacy of a caress, but the firm possession of one who claims what is his by right. Gael did not ask, he demanded. He did not seduce, he subdued. His voice, grave and velvety, tinged by the echoes of daily work, was a melody of dominance that disarmed Alejandro's defenses, melting the corporate authority armor until only naked, anxious, and expectant skin remained.

Kneel down!! Gael had ordered on the first night, the echo of the command resonating in the small and functional apartment of the builder, a space that contrasted brutally with Alejandro's sumptuous lounges. And Alejandro did, with a reverence that was born not of shame, but of a fierce and unconditional devotion. Gael's gravity, his way of moving his calloused hands that could both raise walls and sculpt submission on Alejandro's back, was a sublime art. Each lash of his leather belt, each mark he left on his skin, was a seal of ownership, a truth inscribed in flesh and soul.

Alejandro, the man who dictated fortunes with a snap of his fingers in the external world, found in Gael his true sovereign. Submission was not a punishment for him, but the air his lungs needed. Gael's authority built a sanctuary where Alejandro could strip himself of all pretension, where vulnerability was the maximum expression of strength and loyalty. Gael, in turn, proved not to be a tyrant, but a guardian of this surrender. His dominance was a form of love, an implacable protection that ensured Alejandro, in his emotional and physical nudity, was always safe within the limits of their shared will.

Alejandro's days passed in the turmoil of business, but his nights belonged to Gael. The duality of their lives, far from being a source of conflict, became the engine of thei...