Milking my Cock

The perpetual boner continues to tent-post my underwear. I snapped a few pictures of the little (big, thick) guy earlier today before school.

A client asked me to jack off in front of him yesterday. I complied. Usually I look away whenever I’m asked to milk myself – but this guy was unusually good looking. He had blond hair, tan skin, and a nice, thick body. So this time, I looked right at him.

As I choked my man chicken, he moved between my legs and started running his hands up and down my bare thighs, his eyes focused squarely on my hand and dick. His tongue was moving around in his mouth and poking at different parts of his cheek.

After a few minutes I could tell I was over the edge. I told him that I was going to cum.

“Yeah, shoot out all over your stomach. Fuck yeah” he said as he gripped my legs tightly.

A big burst of cum came gushing out. I found one glob of it in my hair afterwards. The rest of it drooled down the sides of my dick.

When it seemed like I was done he grabbed my cock and shoved the whole thing down his throat. Then he slowly moved his mouth up and pulled every bit of cum off with his lips. The he pushed my legs back so he could eat out my ass with his mouth still swimming with semen.

It felt pretty nice.

The Boner and Dr. M

I awoke this morning to a big, throbbing boner. I punched my alarm and then rolled myself over so I was lying on my stomach. The weight of my body pushing against my hard-on was nice. I started humping the mattress slowly, feeling each wave of pleasure roll through my tired body.

Eventually I fell out of bed and crawled to the shower. Normally my morning wood shrivels up at this point, but this time it didn’t. I looked down and thought about asking “where did you come from?” – but instead I was left speechless by its intrinsic beauty. Decorated with rolling beads of water, my cock looked big, thick and appetizing. I used to always wish that I could make any man appear before me whenever I needed a good sucking and fucking, and this time was no different. I poured body wash all over my crotch and rubbed the slippery suds over my dick with both hands as if I was feeding out a rope.

“Yeah, fuck me, Scott” I said out loud.

“Yeah, make me cum all over myself. Fuck me.”

I jacked myself off until I reached a point that I like to call “the wall.” Maybe it’s just me, but do you ever reach a point when jacking off where suddenly your mind and dick (or vagina) act as though they just experienced a mini-orgasm and suddenly you’re not as horny as you were before and your dick becomes uncomfortably sensitive. It usually lasts thirty seconds or so and it only occurs if I am by myself and not stimulating my ass.

Well, I reached the wall and ceased jacking off. I toweled myself off and went to pour myself some cereal. The boner persisted.

I looked down at it after finishing my cereal and brown spotted banana and said “what do you want from me?”

I almost felt like my penis let out a little cough at that point (*cough* Cyrus, why have you neglected me?), but then I realized it had to throw up, so I went and pissed in the bathroom. My pee went flying in all directions – something that always happens whenever you piss through a big boner.

It was right then that my phone rang. A new client – a forty something doctor – wanted to meet me at his penthouse apartment by the beach.

I drove and rotated through a pile of old CD’s. My boner and I bobbed our heads to the heavy rock and techno beats that boomed out of my car.

At Dr. M’s place I was instructed to lye down on his bed wearing nothing but my underwear. Apparently, he had long fantasized about deeply examining a young, male patient. First he checked the lymp nodes along the sides of my neck – then he moved down and pressed his fingers against different parts of my bare chest and stomach.

“Everything looks good so far” he said.

Then he peeled back my boxers and started pressing at the lymph glands along the sides of my groin. The side of his hands were brushing against my cock and balls, causing me to become even harder than I had been before.

Dr. M didn’t play with my dick at this point, instead he asked me to turn over.

On my back he slowly worked his hands down my spine, pressing down against every single vertabrae. Then he put a cold stethoscope against my back and worked it around the top of my ribs – asking me to breathe in and out every few seconds.

Finally he got down to my ass. He rubbed his hands over my ass cheeks a little and then pulled them apart. I could feel pre-cum drooling out of my dick – the doctor-patient roleplay was turning me on a lot more than I had anticipated.

He pushed his fingers against parts of my ass and then finally started working its way up into my hole. Then he pulled his finger out and licked my asshole a few times. I shuddered each time I felt his hot tongue.

Then he rolled me over again and took my cock into his mouth. I put my hands ontop of his head and squirmed around in the bed – wrinkling the sheets in the process.

My boner was happy as a clam getting worked over inside of Dr. M’s wet mouth.

Dr. M then reached his finger around and stuck it up my ass.

I felt pleasure radiating out from both ends of my body. The pleasure slowly rose and rose until -

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Dr. M spat out my cock halfway through the orgasm and watched the sperm squirt out in the air. Then he put it back in his mouth and sucked all of the white juice off of it. At this point I was squirming like a little kid at the dentists. My post cumming dick was sensitive and the continued sucking felt too intense to handle.

When I was done I took my cash and hopped back into my car. I was passing over a high bridge overlooking downtown when, suddenly, I felt the boner return.

Ass fucked by a liar

A new client called me yesterday and told me that he was outside of my apartment. I realized that he and I had an appointment for 1:30pm, and that it was 1:29 and I was still lying in my bed naked. “Be down in a second!” I yelled over the phone as I ran into my bathroom. I’m sure someone outside the door would have heard clanking and the sound of glass shattering from the bathroom for a few seconds – and then they would have seen me emerge as a clean shaven, well-dressed college student.

I ran outside and then slowed my pace as I rounded the side of my building.

I looked at his baggy, blue clothes and asked if he worked at the hospital. He told me he did. After that we had nothing to talk about as we both walked back to my empty apartment.

I fumbled with the lock on my door for a few seconds and then swung the squeeky front door open.

“This is my humble abode” I said as a wall of cool, air-conditioned air enveloped my body. For some reason those are always the first words that come out of my mouth whenever a client enters my place for the first time.

He walked in behind me and looked back and fourth at my kitchen.

“Looks like you eat a lot of Honey Bunches of Oats!” he laughed, referring to the pile of cereal boxes that covered half of my kitchen counter.

“I…”

He interrupted me – “You know, it’s the most popular cereal now.”

“Honey Bunches of Oats?! It can’t be!” I said much louder than I intended to.

I ignored his blasphemous statement and moved him into my bedroom. I felt a little tired, so I decided to speed up the session. Usually I sit down with guys and talk about school and other childish things in order to emphasize my youth and innocence – two things that get guys rock hard. This time I decided to cut to the chase. He asked me what I like to do for fun and I answered “I like getting good grades and I like to get fucked.”

He grabbed me, pushed me onto the bed and stuck his huge, wet tongue into my face. I kissed him back for a few seconds and then turned my head away.

He moved his head downward and started sucking my cock. I faked a few moans. Then he licked farther down until he got to my ass. The first time his tongue touched my asshole I laughed, then he gave it a good sucking and I started moaning for real.

When he was done sucking my ass he unrolled a condom over his huge cock and then stabbed it into my ass.

“Ouch ouch, go slower” I pleaded. He stopped his assault on my ass for a few seconds and then started fucking me with more fury than before.

He tried to kiss me again but I turned away. Through my peripheral vision I could see him looking at me as he fucked me. I’m no longer a child, but his drooling stare reminded me of a pedophile gazing down at an abused child. He fucked me harder and harder until I could tell he was close to cumming.

“Yeah, you like it when I fuck you with my big dick, don’t you” he growled.

I looked away from him and into my white wall and started thinking about what he had said earlier. I knew that Honey Bunches of Oats had become more popular in recent years, but I knew for a fact that it couldn’t be the most popular cereal. Surely Cheerios is the holder of that title.

“Yeah, you’re going to make me cum, boy” he continued. “Oh fuck yeah, you’re gonna make me cum. Oh your ass is so tight. Oh fuck yeah – oh yeah I’m gonna cum, OH FUCK YEAH…..!’

I finally tilted my head up so that I could see him as he pounded my ass a few final times and pumped the condom full of seed. Then he collapsed onto my stomach, drained and drenched in sweat.

I thought again about the breakfast cereals.

Watching two guys fuck bareback

I have long fantasized about watching two guys have sex – particularly bareback sex. There is something about bareback sex that I find so much more cock hardening than safe sex. Maybe that’s exactly it, unsafe sex is, well, unsafe. The two people involved are risking their lives for little more than a fantastic, cum busting orgasm. How foolish and rebellious can they be!

I do not condone bareback sex, and I myself do not practice it. I have only had bareback sex twice with one person, and even though a pregnancy test said I was negative afterwards, I am still convinced I contracted HIV from the encounter. I am a hypochondriac, so pesky little everyday occurances like lesions, severe nausea, crippling migraines and debilitating spells of blindness always seem to get me down. I guess I’m just irrational – but contracting HIV is something I fear more than the deaths of both of my parents and my pet bird, Wallace.

I’m getting off topic here. I was innocently surfing gay cruise sites one sultry morning (two days ago) when a guy IM’ed me and offered to fuck me raw. I said “No thanks, I plan to die in a car accident when I’m 73 years old” and tried to move on – but the good looking Latino wouldn’t quit. Finally, he suggested that I watch him “pump a boy full of seed” to see if that would change my frail mind. Knowing me and my impulsive, pleasure seeking nature, I should have said no – but the idea of watching two guys fuck themselves to death was too tempting to pass up.

I drove over to Marco’s house a few hours later and was greeted at the door by him and his accomplice. Marco was a good looking guy with a gaunt face and a tan, well-built body. The boy he had found, Evan, was very similar to the first guy I ever hooked up with HHHH. He had jet black hair, dark eyes, pale skin and wore dark, punk rocker clothes.

The two invited me in and handed me a bottle of poppers.

“What is this?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t gone to rehab and didn’t know everything about every psychoactive substance available to humans.

“They make you feel real sexy” Evan said. “Just open the top and breath in the fumes.”

I declined. Marco then handed me a glass of water and grabbed me and his friend by our shoulders. He pulled us both into the bedroom and pointed to a big love seat in the corner.

“You can sit there” he said, looking at me with his raccoon eyes.

I plopped down onto the fluffy seat and set my drink on the ground. I know enough not to drink an unknown fluid from a complete stranger.

“You’re real sexy, you know” Evan said to me, his mouth rolling over a piece of gum. “I’d love to fuck you raw.”

I felt flattered, but didn’t know how to respond. Evan looked even younger than me – it was weird (and extremely arousing) having a boy so young talk with such confidence.

“Get naked” he said.

I stripped down to nothing and then sat back down. My dick was already hard. Evan walked over and sat down in front of me. “Look at all of this, Marco – I think this boy wants to have sex!” He pressed his fingers against the head of my dick and then slowly lifted them, bringing up long strings of pre-cum. He licked it off of his finger and then started rubbing my dick. Marco walked over and grabbed my dick out of his hand. Evan moved his hands down to my thighs and then leaned in to suck my dick. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to receive a blowjob from a guy who very easily could be HIV positive, but I decided I’d let him do it for a little bit. After a few minutes Marco moved down and started sucking my dick with Evan. They both licked up and down each side and deep throated my cock one at a time. I was so turned on that I couldn’t help but cum right there on the love seat. I watched the cum pump down the sides of my dick onto their tongues. They both licked and sucked all of the cum off of my dick and then swallowed it.

I was pissed that I had cum before all of the action took place, but soon my frustration dissolved when I realized that I was still horny and excited to watch them fuck.

About a half an hour passed before the actual fucking began. During that time we all talked a little about the online world and the morality of bareback sex. Both Marco and Evan were extremely simple minded and seemingly self-destructive, but that only made me want to watch them fuck even more.

We were back in the bedroom and I watched as the two of them undressed. I expected to watch a few minutes of foreplay before the grand finale, but instead I watched Marco eat out Evan’s ass for a minute or so and then drown it and his cock in lube. Marco then pushed down on Evans back, who was on all fours facing away from me, and then stick his raw dick in. Evan made a few sounds like he was in pain but Marco just kept on fucking him.

I thought I was going to explode right there, but I resisted the urge to touch my cock. I was so hypnotized and turned on by the sex that I felt like I was high. I wanted to get a better look, so I moved in closer and ended up sitting on the bed, not blinking for a second.

“Yeah, you fucking like watching me fuck him raw?” Marco growled. “Aw, it feels so good. I’m gonna cum in his ass.”

I put my hand on Marco’s ass as he thrusted deeper and deeper into Evan. I wanted Marco to pull out so I could suck on his dick, but I decided not to ask.

“Oh I’m gonna cum!” Marco yelled. “Oh fuch yeak, oh fuck!”

I watched him fuck Evan a few more times and then pull out. Cum rolled out of Evans ass as his dick came out. Right then Evan started to moan and then I watched as cum came shooting out of his dick.

Marco looked at me with an evil grin and then bent down so he could eat the cum out of Evan’s ass. Right then I was so turned on I thought I was going to vaporize. I tugged at my dick and within a few seconds I was cumming again.

Afterwards I went home and watched Dr. Phil.

Great lake of lies

My recent self-disclosures are beginning to catch up with me. I try to keep my escorting life a secret, but holding in such damning and fascinating information isn’t physically or psychologically possible. I have kept my second life a secret from most of my old friends, the ones who care about me too much to not take action. I have told a few of my new friends the truth – but the number of people who think I make money helping people move far outweighs the number who know that I suck pennies out of dicks.

I have tried to keep these two worlds, the baking soda world and the vinegar world, apart from each other, but last night there was a foamy chemical reaction.

I was sitting where I am right now, on the well worn comforter of a cheap motel bed. My best friend, Courtney, was sprawled next to me, peaking her head over my knee as watched youtube movies, our legs intertwined. We were interrupted by the ringing of my phone. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Mark, one of my other best friends. Thinking nothing of it, I clicked my cell onto speaker phone and answered the call.

Mark: Hey Cyrus! How are you?!

Me: Mark, good to hear from you. What the hell is up?

Mark: Not much man, not much. Hey, listen, are you still fucking guys for money?

The words radiated out of the tiny holes like a shock wave – blasting out across the city of Orlando like the leading edge of a nuclear explosion. I couldn’t turn off the speaker phone, because that would make me look guilty and secretive.

Me: What?!

Mark: You know, you told me that you’ve been fucking guys for money.

Me: I never actually did that! What are you talking about.

Mark: Oh oh, sorry. I thought you said you were prostituting yourself – didn’t we just talk about it the other day.

Me: NO! I NEVER DID IT!

At this point I had had enough, so I pressed ‘End.’

I looked over at Courtney, who continued staring at her computer screen – completely motionless, as though nothing had happened. I am sort of lucky because Mark has recently been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and so is rather infamous for saying crazy, off the wall things during his short lived manic episodes.

I told Courtney he was crazy. Then I called Mark back and spoke to him for another half an hour. Truth is he was high on cocaine and probably in the bouts of a manic episode. Courtney could hear half of the conversation through me, and she could tell that Mark was unwell.

I ended the phone call and nothing more was said of the incident.

Courtney flew over from the west coast to come stay with me for a week. She, more than anyone else, I have been trying to steer away from the truth. I discussed escorting with her in the past – and she made it very clear that me doing so would either permanently damage or completely destroy our friendship. I love Courtney, so I don’t know what to do. The secrets I am keeping from her act like a broken vial of cyanide – slowly poisoning our relationship. I feel more awkward around her now, and we laugh less than we should.

I have had a eerie day dream for a long time that feels remarkably similar to the feelings experienced when actively escorting.

In the dream, I am on a plane that crashes over the middle of Lake Superior. I am somehow able to free myself from the sinking wreckage and bob up to the surface. It’s the middle of the night so everything around me is pitch black, except for the distant glow of a city well beyond the horizon. It feels so strange, being in the middle of a seemingly endless body of fresh water. I am deep within a populated continent, yet I am still floating in an oceanic lake.

Sometimes I think of this scene before I go to sleep at night. I like the feeling of surreality and utter silence that it brings – but then I remember that I’m probably going to drown.

I’m in a big, awkward situation (UPDATED)

I’m in the middle of a terribly awkward and semi-dangerous situation. I left my cellphone at a clients house.

The client, Spike, text messaged me this morning and invited me over to his place for a morning romp. I showered quickly and drove to his place through a maze of honking traffic.

Physically, Spike was almost identical to the disgusting Frenchman I discussed is my entry The most revolting client an escort could ever have.

He was a fat, ugly, flaky skinned Latino with a shitty personality and a small, dirty, uncircumcised penis. (Is it just me or do all fat, hairy guys have ridiculously tiny dicks?) Anyways, I started off by giving Spike a massage, which I desperately tried to prolong so that our hour together would consist of as little sexual contact as possible. I worked his filthy neck and legs over and over again. At one point, while I was chopping at his back, I smelt his underwear and almost vaporized with horror.

Eventually, though, Spike got antsy and made it clear that the massage was over. He grabbed my dick which, miraculously, I was able to make hard, and started jacking it off like he was trying to rip it off me. I reached down and pulled out his dick, which I quickly discovered was more ghastly then a thousand ghouls.

Spike looked at me and said “Suck it.”

I looked around the room and thought of what to say. Excuses raced through my head and then – Eureka! – a light bulb popped up over my head. The incandescent thought was quickly shattered by the twisting ceiling fan. Spike and I both covered ourselves as a thick rain of glass showered over us. I grabbed his arm at that moment and said- “Lets take a shower together! I feel so dirty.”

In the shower I let Spike run soap all over my body. He pulled at my cock and stuck a few fingers in my ass. The whole time I pictured Scott – the young son of an American celebrity whom I went to school with. The image of Scott in my mind has saved me from countless situations where I normally would not be able to cum or even grow an erection. I always picture the same thing:

I’m lying on my back and Scott is fucking me hard and fast. I feel the beginning of an orgasm heating up my ass. It turns me on thinking that all the pleasure I’m (pretending to) experience is the result of Scott’s cock. Scott can tell I’m about to cum, and in his angry, boyish way he growls “Haaha, yeah, thats right – cum. Ohh yeah, cum.”

My imagination was able to bring me to the point of orgasm. As I had been instructed to, I turned around and let Spike suck my cock dry.

Anyways, I’m getting a little side tracked, the point is that I turned off my phone and put it on Spikes nightstand before we got down to business. I left his house and quickly realized my mistake. I drove back to his house and discovered that he wasn’t there. There were four cars parked in his driveway when I had arrived (which I found a little unsettling) and when I returned there were only three. I pounded at his door to no avail. I left a note telling him I would return at 5pm to collect the phone. Then I realized that he may live with other people, so I attached another note saying “Thank you for helping me call AAA earlier!”

I drove by his house a few hours later, then again at 5:30pm, and he still wasn’t home and my note was untouched. I left another note the last time saying “Please put the phone outside so I can get it in the morning.”

Now I’m nervous. I need my phone to survive. Plus all my family members and all my clients numbers and text messages are available for him to read. I pray to jesus that he isn’t some sick asshole bent on ruining my life or my reputation. Plus theres the whole deal of me possibly encountering his wife or mother when I go back to retrieve the phone – “Oh yes, Ms. Spike, I left my phone on your sons/husbands bedroom nightstand!”

UPDATE: I drove over to Spikes house this morning. On the way over my mind was a swirl of anxious thoughts. I envisioned a woman with no hair (cancer patient) answering the door with two children clutching onto the back of her hospital gown. She coughs and says “Yes, can I help you?” and I start seeing spots in my vision and collapse on the ground and go into a grand mal seizure.

Instead I knocked on the door and Spike answered. He handed me my phone and I thanked him profusely. He slammed the door and I skipped back to my car. I flipped open my beloved cellphone and realized that Spike had read all of my new text messages and listened to all of my voice mails. I guess curiosity, on his part, is expected.

Where my mind wanders when I jack off

I’m having nightmares about rude youtube comments and client cancellations

that seem strangely aligned with my ever frequent masturbation sessions.

I sit in my bed, yanking at my cock, and wonder why my cum is no longer

the color of white chandelier. It has become colorful – nearly iridescent.

I’ve been impregnating mens mouths with mutated seed

for months now, and I wonder if I’ll be able to handle the burden

when the clew of little tadpoles are born in nine months.

I slide my hand across my shaft and close my eyes

in an attempt to speed up the process with thoughts of college cocks

and high school assholes, but instead my mind skips across the ocean

until it ends up at my parents house.

I can see my mom murdering vegetables in the kitchen

and my dad playing footsie in the office with his file cabinet.

The tangled mess of papers suggests that my dad has been having an affair

with his scanner, kissing the transluscent file tabs and fucking the copy machine.

I pull and pull harder, ignoring the tapping rain drops against my window.

Meteorologists have been warning that Hurricane Cunt is well on its way

up the change basket express to deliver my area a dose of serenity and dildo sized hail.

I can feel a surge of pleasure heating up my stomach, and the fantastic sensation as my balls

pump cum to my dick.

Even so, my head feels twice as clouded as before

as my innocence squirts out of me

onto the dirty floor.

Domination and Humiliation – Part II

I could tell Slave was excited. His cock was pointing up towards the heavens and the muscles in his legs and ass flexed as I ran my fingers through his crack. It was then that I started wondering whether he wanted to fuck me, get fucked, or not fuck at all. At first glance it seemed obvious that he was a hungry, cum guzzling bottom – but I couldn’t be too sure. He was completely straight acting and he never once mentioned anal sex when he described his various fantasies to me.

Anyway, I decided that it didn’t matter because Slave was my slave and I was his master. I could order him to fuck me or I could fuck him.

I let my overactive mind relax in the steaming shower as a fantastic sense of dominance and control swept over me. Suddenly, cruel and unusual thoughts started seeping their way into my mind. I looked down at Slave, who was now cowering below me on his knees, and felt a strong sense of disgust and compassion deep in my gut. I lifted one foot up and stuck it into his face.

“Lick my foot” I demanded.

He grabbed my foot like it was an offering of bread and started swirling his warm tongue across the bottom. I was caught off guard by the pleasure his tongue brought me. My foot was in heaven as Slave sucked on my big toe and licked the spaces in between. It wasn’t only the sensation of having my feet adored – it was the visual spectacle of the situation. I stared at Slave as he nibbled at my foot and noticed the hot shower water as it streamed down his black, stringy hair and then twisted and curled down his skinny torso. He looked so vulnerable and weak – like a child.

I grabbed his chin and spat my words into his face -”Now I’m going to have sex with you because you look like a child.”

No, I didn’t actually say that. And how dare you believe that I did. I actually said “Go grab me a towel.”

Slave looked up at me and then let go of my foot – “Yes Sir.”

He hopped out of the bath and reached up into a cabinet to grab fresh towels. As I had noticed before, Slave looked like he was my age from behind. He had a wonderfully round little bubble butt that was just screaming for physical and sexual abuse.

Slave tossed me a towel. It hit my chest and then flapped down onto the floor. The truth is I have terrible hand-eye coordination, but I decided to pretend my missed catch was intentional.

“Don’t you fucking throw things at me. Get down on your knees and pick up that towel and dry off my feet.”

Slave lowered himself down to the floor and started wiping the towel across the my feet and calves. His face looked pretty and pensive as he meticulously worked to please me. I started pulling at my dick until it got hard.

I didn’t feel like saying anything else, so I stood there and allowed Slave some freedom. He continued drying off my calves, then he moved up to my thighs. He ran the towel in between my thighs – moving his hand up and down in long, swift strokes. Each stroke got progressively higher until eventually he was drying off my balls and ass.

I looked down at Slave and saw him staring up at me as he rubbed my crotch. He really looked at me as though I owned him – not just in the playful, artificial sense – but as though I were his slave master, father and God all rolled up into one. His big eyes were glistening with submission.

I looked down at my dick and watched as clear fluid drooled out the tip. I felt so turned on I couldn’t stand it.

“Suck my dick” I commanded.

Slave grabbed at my dick, his eyes still locked with mine, and started running his mouth along the sides of my cock.

“Suck it!” I said again.

Slave looked at me sheepishly and then swallowed the whole thing in one gulp. I could tell that he had sucked a lot of cocks because he was very, very good at it.

I lifted my head up and stared at the ceiling. I didn’t want to look at Slave anymore. I just wanted to enjoy the feeling coming from my center.

I moaned and groaned. I had never received such a good blow job in my life! I had never cum from getting sucked before, so I was surprised when I felt the onset of an orgasm.

“Oh god, oh fuck. Oh, oh, uhnnnnnnnn….”

I filled up Slaves mouth with Jizz and watched as he swallowed it. It took me a few moments to recover from the ocean of pleasure. Slave cleaned my dick off with his tongue and then looked up at me again with his puppy eyes – “Did I do good?” he asked.

I suddenly felt really stupid. In my post cumming psychosis I felt out of place pretending to be a slave master. My eyes ticked down towards Slave for a few seconds and I forced the word “Yeaah” out of my throat.

Then I made him get me a beer and act as my foot stool for over an hour while I watched TV.

Domination and Humiliation – part I

I sat outside and smoked a cigarette – trying to let the awakening puffs of nicotine ease my nervous mind. I held in the smoke for as long as possible – giving my tender, pink little lungs access to all the relaxation possible.

A red car pulled up and turned into my friends driveway. The man behind the wheel was slave. I didn’t greet him, but instead got into the car and gave him an annoyed handshake. Then I rested back in the seat and said “lets go.”

Slave wanted me to dominate him. He was turned on by the idea of a young guy like myself abusing, torturing and humiliating an older (mid thirties) guy like himself. I told him that I had experience in BDSM – and that I stroke my cock to thoughts of whipping and torturing people – but those were both lies. I am definitely the submissive type, and I even have a hard time giving my baby puppies baths whenever I’m back home with my parents because of the sadness I see in their eyes whenever the warm water touches their trimmed fur. How the fuck am I going to convincingly enslave this guy without ever breaking character or loosing confidence?

Slave was fairly attractive. He reminded me a lot of that Jewish guy from “Jurassic Park” – the one with the dark, curly hair who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

The car ride was silent. I felt an impending sense of doom and embaressment.

Finally we pulled up to Slaves nice, two story house.

“You’re here all by yourself?” I asked.

“Yes, sir” he replied.

“Good. Now get your ass out of the car and open my door” I snapped. My hostility was very forced.

Slave walked around, opened my door and then let me into his house.

“I want to take a shower” I said and then waited for a response. “Come with me and lets fucking go” I yelled. This time my anger felt more natural. I kind of liked the idea of being in complete control, but I still felt rabidly uncomfortable.

In bathroom I made Slave take all of my clothes off. He had a hard time getting my shirt off over my head (and I started feeling like an idiot for asking him to do it) and I felt stupid – and thats when I realized something. If I ever felt stupid, ashamed or idiotic around Slave, I could vent my frustrations on him. As the shirt was stuck over my face, I slapped his hands off and then removed the shirt myself. Then I pushed him against the wall and called him a fucking idiot.

I took my pants off myself, and then asked Slave to take off my underwear with his teeth. “But first” I said, “you have to beg me to do it. Get on your hands and knees and beg me like a dog.”

Slave got down and begged and I thought he looked foolish – so I verbalized my feelings – “You look like such an idiot. Keep begging fuck face.”

By this point the domination was coming much more naturally. It’s frightening how quickly a human can become drunk with power.

When I was satisfied with his pleas, I let him pull my underwear down to my ankles, then I lifted up each foot so that he could pull my boxers away and drop them on the tiled floor with his teeth.

“Alright” I continued, “now I want to inspect you to see what kind of looser I’m dealing with.” 

Seconds later I felt stupid for choosing the word “looser” as opposed to more insulting terms like “shit face,” “shit tits” or “mother fucker.” 

I let the shame fuel my fire of rage and degredation. In the shower I ran a bar of soap across his chest and then slid it down to his dick, which was hard. I kissed the tip of his dick and then grabbed it tightly until Slave squirmed. “Don’t touch here” I said, “unless I tell you that you can.”

He nodded his head and agreed – “Yes, sir.”

Then I turned him around and asked him to bend over. His body was actually attractive from the back, he had nice, muscular lines that ran parallel to his spine as well as a nice, round ass. I ran the bar of soap through his ass crack and then spanked him. The spanking had little purpose, but it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

 

To be continued tomorrow…