Honor Thy Master: Journals of a Submissive

By: Eros Cupid

Chapter 8,

The music swelled.  From what I studied of Tchaikovsky, his melodies were inexhaustible and supersensuous, clearly expressive and with a clear periodic structure.  The violins in The Lovers playing in the lovers started slowly before an overture of oboes, wind instruments, and drums brought on a dramatic effect.  Then finally the strings replayed again and drifted through the room as I sank into a relaxed state as the beating sound of the metronome swung back form with each beat of the music playing on the CD.

My eyes strained against the blackness.  The mask my Master placed upon my eyes tickled my lashes as I heard Jason stomp around the room gathering what I believe to be more pleasure seeking tools to enhance the Sub-Dom experience.   Could it be some sex toy like dildo or vibrator?  I wasn’t sure but the thought intrigued me.  The farting noise of expanded gas made me giggle before I realize it was the blond hunk squeezing some liquid out of a tube.  My mind raced at the possibilities.  KY?  Astroglide?  Lube?  What was it that he had on his hand?  I soon would found out.

The soft scent of lavender and jasmine filled my nostrils.  It was a pleasant smell, not too odorous or too overpowering, just the right combination of aromas that complimented each other.  Slowly he worked it against the back of my thighs and down my ankles as the sweet smell of the liquid soothed and massaged my skin.

“Hope you don’t mind scented lotions?” He asked.  “These are specially imported from India.”

I inhaled the wild aroma.  It was heavenly.  “No, it’s great.”  His hands pushed into the bottom of my ankles.  His fingers felt strong, gripped my legs hard and unloosened the knots that tightened around my calves.  Little by little, I began to experience my nerves and the deep tissues of my body start to sink and give in.

Opening and closing my hands, I pulled against the silk binds of my wrists.  My arms cramped a little and I writhed a bit before rough hands braced me and held me down against the leather couch.  Normally in this situation, I would have fought against being restrained but Jason’s smooth hands comforted me and soothed the aching discomfort in my muscles.  I heard him squeeze more of the lotion into his palm as he worked and kneaded my bottom and rubbed them with his strong, masculine fingers.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” He inquired with concern.

Shaking my head, I released a gentle hum and enjoyed the feel of his hands squeezing, stroking, and rubbing my skin.  Surprisingly I didn’t flinch as I usually would have.  Instead, I allowed him to explore the back of my body as more of the warm liquid slid up from my bottom to the curve of my back and shoulders.  The lotion was quickly replaced by his hands and he made good work of it as he caressed my back and unwound the stress of my muscles and shoulders.  A feeling of euphoria overtook me as I pulled hard at my silk bonds only to feel an uneasy cramping in my arms.

Jason soothed those too.  “Here let me.” He said.  Rubbing the lotion on both my arms, the discomforting pain soon went away with each massage of his fingers against my aching muscles.  My body gave way and I found myself drifting, no longer battling back but instead submitting to the exploratory methods of my Master’s roaming hands.  I was now relaxed.

“Master…Jason…” I whispered as I noticed myself falling.

“Shhh,” he stroked my back.  “Give in, Ricky.  Allow yourself to sleep for once.”

The rhythm of the violins, the beating of the metronome, and Jason’s wonderful fingers finally did me in.  I descended and allowed the full REM to claim me.  I fell hard.

Was I snoring?  Could he tell that a bit of drool had fallen from my lips?  I couldn’t tell but Jason could as I heard his voice all around me as a series of images played inside my head.

Where are you?

“I’m outside a house.” I said.  “I remember it.  It’s the same house I grew up in at Santa La Diaz.”

The picture was much more vivid.  An old house built from the seventies with faded cream and brown concrete and a faded, burnt colored roof.  Patches of worn grass that had dried up and left with pieces of dirt and weeds and a rusted chain linked fence surrounded the structure.  A wind of sweet music entered my ears as I heard Tchaikovsky playing and passing by like a soft gale before something white drifted down and perched itself on top of a rusted mailbox.  Glancing at the object, I notice it was white dove all pure and soft like ivory snow while a crown of dark, black feathers decorated the top of its head.  I reach down to touch it but in fear it flies away as the wonderful melody engulfs itself and makes it disappear into the air.  Then the giggles of innocent laughter attracts my attention from inside.

What are you doing?

“I’m going inside my house,” I tell him.

I step though the doorway.  Old faded tiles meet me at the front as I see a pair of young boys scampering around nearly knocking things over.  One has light brown hair and tanned skin and looks to be about four years of age.  I identified him as Alex.  The other boy is eight and had dark hair, pitch black as the night, and light white features.  That boy is me.

“I see myself and Alex playing.  I think it’s tag.”

Are you having fun?

“Yes,” I reply.  “We’re a bit rowdy back then.”

A loud grumble vibrates from around the corner of the house.  An overweight man with a shaved head and tattooed tear near his left eye scowls.  He’s wearing a baggy white undershirt, long jean shorts that came close to his ankles and a plaid quilted jacket.  He didn’t appear to look happy.

“Mijos!  Alto!” He bellows.  Alex and I grow scared at his loud voice.

Who’s in the room with you, Ricky?

“It’s my uncle, Tio Rodrigo.   He’s upset that we almost knocked down a vase.”

“Stop!” Raising a finger to warn us.  “You almost broke something!  Tu madre is going to be very upset when she gets home from work!”

“Los cientos, Tio!” We apologized in unison.

“Do something quiet, por favor,” he suggests.  “I’m out of cigarettes so I have to run down to the liquor store to get some.  You’re going to stay with Chuey.”

Who is Chuey?

“Tio Rodrigo’s friend,” I explain.  I glance at him.  Head shaved like Tio Rodrigo, he wears a wife-beater t-shirt, baggy khakis and sports dozens of religious tattoos on his body.  A bit on the skinny side, he reminded me of a lot like the alien monsters that I watched on those cheesy horror films on television.  “He’s a gangbanger like Tio Rodrigo.  They’re part of the La Guerra gang in the area.”

“You stay with Chuey and be good,” said Tio Rodrigo.  “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“Si, Tio!” Alex and I respond.

The big gangster shuts the front door leaving us alone with the skinny cholo.

Then what happens.

“Hey kids, you want to play hide and seek?” Chuey asks with strange look in his eye.

Of course we do.  What did our age wouldn’t?  He points toward the hallway.

“Okay, you hide together in one of the bedrooms and I’ll go to find you!” The cholo instructs us.

We follow.  Chuey covers his face and begins to count to ten.  Alex and I hide in Tio Rodrigo’s room behind his bed and wait.  After the count of ten finishes, we hear him coming near.  The monster finds us but instead of playfully teasing us, he has this strange look on his face.  He shuts the door and cracks in his knuckles.

“Let’s play a different game,” he licks his lips.  “It’s called let’s make Tio Chuey happy.”

My heart raced.  I feel the pulse of my heart beating out of my chest.  Jason must have sensed it as I began to cry.

Ricky!  What’s happening?


I couldn’t hear Jason’s voice.  Instead I was drowned in the moment.  Fear and pain overwhelmed and consumed me.

Ricky!  What’s going on?

“CHUEY!  He’s grabbing Alex and me!  He’s pinning us against the bed and won’t let us move!  We’re screaming and crying but he won’t get off us!  He’s tearing at our clothes…”

Frightening images come and go almost like a strobe light effect.  All I could experience at the moment was total fear, panic and pain.  I wanted to run but I couldn’t escape.  Jason’s voice weaved in and out.


It very much was real.  I couldn’t escape it.  The violation.  The humiliation.  The shame.  My own voice took over my body.



My dream state refused to.  Instead the agony of the moment trapped me and drew me back in.  I knew there was no escape.  The monster devoured us.

Then the light illuminated through the doorway.  Tio Rodrigo’s bedroom flew open as Bianca Quinn screamed and held a sharp blade in her hand.  Rushing toward the monster, she struck him several times while her heroic sword sailed through the air and made contact with the creature.  Blood splashed the walls as I saw Chuey fall to the floor dead.


Weeping and crying, she continued inflict her knife into the lifeless body of the cholo as Alex and I remained sobbing on the bed completely in pain and in shock, at that moment, Tio Rodrigo entered the bedroom to see the corpse of his comrade lying in a pool of blood.  Clutching his stomach, he vomited toward the corner of the closet.

“Bianca!” He gasped wiping his mouth.  “What have you done?”


Tears streaked down Tio Rodrigo’s face.  “Bianca…I had no idea…Chuey was like that…I’m sorry…” His sad eyes turned to me and Alex who clutched each other naked and sobbing.  “Ricky, Alex, I’m sorry…I didn’t think…I was only gone for fifteen minutes to buy cigarettes…”

Mom’s face ignited with rage.  “YOU LEFT THEM ALONE WITH THAT MARICON!”  She swiped the blood knife at him but missed.  “GET OUT!  GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!  I DON’T WANT YOUR THUG LIFE AROUND MY CHILDREN!  YOU’RE DEAD TO ME!  GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Falling to his knees, he begged for forgiveness from her.  “Please…Bianca…I’m sorry.  I would never hurt Ricky and Alex…I love my nephews.”  He stumbled back up.  “I’ll prove it…I’ll get rid of the body…I’ll make sure no one knows what happened here…”

She breathed heavily.  “I DON’T CARE!”  She snapped.  “Just get that faggot out my house!  Dump it by the side of the road for all I care!  I want him out and I want you out!  Don’t come back here!”

Wet with tears and attempting to wipe away his guilt, Tio Rodrigo nodded.  “I’ll…I’ll do that…I owe them that.”  He bent down, grabbed the bloodied body of Chuey, wrapped him with a comforter from the closet, and dragged him down the hall.  Within a few minutes, we heard Tio Rodrigo’s car start up and him pulling the vehicle out of the driveway.

I held Alex as he and I continued to cry.  Mom wiped her bloodied hands on the nurse’s uniform she was wearing, embraced us and kissed us.

“Don’t worry, hijos,” she whispered.  “You’ll soon forget everything.  It didn’t happen, mijos.  It didn’t. You’re not maricones.  You’re not faggots.  Don’t every let a man touch you!  You’re not a faggot?  Entiende?”

I whimpered.  “Wh…what…did the Chuey do…to us…The monster…”

Mom shook me hard.  “IT DIDN’T HAPPEN!”  She stroked my dark hair and her voice calmed.  “It didn’t happen.  Tell yourself that.  Say it, my sons.  It didn’t happen.”

“It didn’t…happen.”  Alex and I began to stutter.

“Good,” smiled our mother.  “Now say it again.’

“It didn’t happen.”

“Excellente.  Keep saying it.”

“It didn’t happen.”

“It didn’t happen.”

“It didn’t happen.”


My eyes opened.  The velvet mask was gone.  Anxious hands reached out.  Large muscular arms held me close as the stickiness of the leather upholstery glued itself upon my bare bottom.  The soft material of the silk scarves tickled my skin as I realized that Jason had untied my restraints that were attached to the couch and allowed my limbs to be now set free.

His mouth caressed my forehead as he hugged me.  He smelled of soap and expensive cologne and my face teared up a bit as I buried my face inside his dress shirt.  His fingers soothed the back of my head.

“It’s okay,” he said.  “I’m here now.  The nightmare is over.  You’re awake now.”

Anguish shot through me and I allowed him to hold me close.  His chest was hard as tone but his toned biceps entwined around me and kept me safe.  I sunk into his warmth and allowed his embrace to release all my pain as I wet his dress shirt with my tears.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” I cried.  I couldn’t stop myself.

Smiling down at me, his blue eyes stroked me with comfort.  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.  That blockage you had, the nightmares, it all makes sense.  You were molested and the trauma of that has affected why you’re struggling with physical contact as well as you’re sexuality.”

He was absolutely right.  I allowed the incident of a suppressed memory to dictate my life and make me afraid.  I allowed it to consume me, to make me afraid to take risks, and let it be my crutch.  Then the realization hit me.  Alex was suffering from it too.  As much as we tried to forget it, it manifested in different ways for the both us.  I decided to be extroverted and afraid while my younger sibling began to act out and use drugs to deal with the pain.  In short, the both of us were royally screwed up.

The dark blond man wiped my eyes.  “But you don’t have to be this person that you are now.  You can change that.  The fact that you’re here with me and willing to take a chance shows courage on your part.  The rest is up to you.”  He released his arms and gently placed me against the leather couch.  With nimble fingers, he undid the knots of the scarves on my wrists which surprisingly left no marks.  Then he lifted himself off the couch.

“I think we had a breakthrough,” he said.  He picked up his sportscoat off the desk.  “For now, I’ll leave you to ponder the situation until we meet again.  Perhaps, when you’re ready we can engage in more intimate activities.  Please get dressed and you can show yourself out.   Again, Ricky, it’s all about to you.   I’ll respect your boundaries.  The whole point of this relationship is to experience pleasure.  I won’t force you into anything you’re not ready for.”

Shifting my face toward the back of the wall, I analyzed my circumstances.  Jason Kendall dove into my personal issues, my traumas and brought it out of me.  He was being patient and allowed me to comprehend my problems with physical contact and provide me a chance to explore and resolve my inner demons.  More importantly, he allowed me the chance to trust.  That sense of trust was the most significant part of being in this kind of agreement and I had to admit it.  I fully trusted Jason Kendall.

Standing up from the leather couch, I scratched my chest and swallowed a bit of courage in the process.  “Master Jason.”

He focused his attention at me.  “Yes, Ricky?”

“I…” I kept trying to find the words.  “I don’t want to go.”  I pouted.  “I want to stay.  I want to be physically intimate with you.  I want to know what it’s like to be physically close to a man but I’m not sure if I’m ready to fuck yet.”

My Dominant flashed me a wicked grin.  “There are other ways to experience male on pleasure without actual penetration.”

Apprehensive, I curled my mouth.  “Could you please show me?  Please, Master?”

He smiled.  “Of course.”  Dropping his suit jacket back on the desk, he unhooked the buttons on his dress shirt.  “First lesson of a proper sub is to observe.  Watch, slave, and admire.”  He stripped of his shirt and dropped it on the desk next to his sportscoat.  Wearing now his crisp, white undershirt, I noticed how perfectly muscled his chest was beneath the fabric and wondered what it looked like without it.  I was about to find out.

Pulling the fabric over his shoulders, he tossed it next to his other pile of clothes and gasped at the flawless tanned muscles of his pectorals and rock hard abdomen.  Tiny bits of dark, blond hair covered the square line of each curve as the tiny peach colored nipples was perfectly positioned toward each end of the man’s chest.  A row of six ridges formed a ladder at the base of his belly which complimented the flat stomach and oval shaped belly button.  It turns out he’s an innie.

I noticed myself staring at his gorgeous chest for a minute before the tall drug dealer became aware of my ogling of his bare chest.  I blushed.

“Admiring the building?” He teased.

“I’m envious,” I admitted.  “I wish I had a body like yours.”

“Your body is fine,” he replied.  “I like skinny guys.”  He place his hands on his belt buckle and he slowly undid the leather belt while kicking off his dress shoes and pulling off his socks.  Slipping off the belt, he threw it to the floor and then undid the button of his trousers and unzipped his pants.  Gradually, he peeled his slacks until they reached the ground and kicked them off with his large feet.  Enormous feet, I might add which looked to be a size thirteen which greatly matched the large bulge in his navy boxer briefs he was wearing.  The words Giorgio Armani was printed on the elastic band that surrounded his perfect torso.

“Designer underwear?” I asked.  “Why am I not surprised?”

He shrugged.  “What can I say?  I can afford it!  I’m a label whore.  You’re one to talk Mister-Hanes-Three-In-A-Pack!”

My face must have turned a deep shade of crimson because financially I was a cheapskate when it came to undies but he overlooked my socio-economic status.   Instead, he proceeded to pull down his expensive undergarment to the floor.  I lifted my eyes and finally soaked in his full magnificence.  He was huge!  I mean not above average large but enormous!  That thirteen inch shoe size didn’t lie.  Hanging from the hairless groin of his torso, his circumcised penis hung down low from his hairy, muscular thighs to where he knee connected to his perfectly sculpted calves.  I’ll admit that I haven’t seen very many penises.  Okay, I haven’t seen any except for mine but in the fantasy realm of length and girth, Jason Kendall was blessed with the perfect one.  I had to turn away.

Noticing my embarrassment, he laughed.  “Don’t worry.  You’ll come to enjoy it in time but for now, let me teach you in the ways of pleasing a man.”

I bit my lip.  “Yes, Master.”

Standing up and refusing to move, he approached me.  His statuesque body came close as I stared full on at his wonderful chest as he grabbed my hands and brought it across his pectoral muscles.

“This is a man’s chest.”  He told me.  “It’s hard, different, and virile.  I want you to feel it.”

I did.  Eager fingers wandered, pushed across the dark curls of his flesh and touched the hard curves and lines of his muscles.  It was too indescribable to explain.  Underneath my fingers, it felt like stone but softer and masculine as I caressed his nipples and brought down my hands to the rough ridges of his abdomen.  Sure enough, the ladder formation of his stomach intrigued me and I wanted to continue touching him some more but he grabbed my wrists and stopped me.

“Not yet, slave.” He announced.  “It’s my turn.”

Spinning me around, he caressed my shoulders.  His fingers massaged the hard bone of my arms and surprisingly I didn’t flinch this time.  Slowly, the hands lowered, and made a smooth passage to my small chest, my tiny nipples down my stomach to the bushy dark hair that covered my penis.  Jason decided that he would start there.

“Mmm, nice and cut,” he growled in my ear.  “Just the way I liked you.  Is Alex circumcised too?”

Taken aback, I turned to him.  “Don’t you know?”

Tossing his head back, he snickered.  “No, I don’t.  I never saw him naked.”

I was surprised by his comment.  “I thought you and Alex were intimate?  He was your slave?”

“Yes,” grinned the tall dark, blond.  “But I never undressed him.  He was far too young and too rebellious to be a proper sub so I hardly bothered with exploring his body.”  His face nuzzled my neck.  “His older brother though is another story.  I like my slaves closer to my age.”

“I’m twenty three,” I muttered.  “Alex is nineteen.  I’m not that old.  You can’t be more than thirty.”

“More like forty,” he remarked.

My eyebrows rose.  “Wow!  You look good for you age!”

“Leave it to good genes,” said Jason.  “Even Mark before his transformation was a drop dead supermodel.  I guess we’re just born lucky.”

“And arrogant,” I clucked my tongue.

“I’ll show you arrogant,” he purred.  Wrapping his fingers behind my neck, he pulled me close so that our mouths touched.  I quickly sank in to the feel of his lips on mine.  Shutting my eyes, I submitted.  A strong, wet tongue invaded mine and I paused.  I groaned in response as Jason’s jaw was incredibly unmoving and at the same time remarkably gentle.  His tongue explored my mouth, savored my tastebuds and together we shared a gentle yet appreciative kiss as the rest of hands roamed across each other’s bodies.

Jason broke away from the kiss for moment to let his blue eyes rake over me.  “I want to taste you.”  He held my hand, led me to the couch, and slowly lowered me down.  Reclining against the leather interior, he found my mouth again as I eagerly responded to his touch without reservation or fear.  His fingers found my small, pale chest and planted a tender kiss on my nipple before suckling the nub with his mouth.  I moaned for a bit before he finished and dropped more kisses down my stomach and kneeled in front of my spread legs.

His fingers pressed hard into my thighs, forceful but gentle, and allowed his hands to stroke the hairs of my flesh before lowering his mouth to kiss the surface of my skin. Then his hands moved up, palmed underneath my scrotum while his other hand slipped around my shaft and clasped around it between his fingers.  I glanced down at bit as he squeezed my penis between his hands, pushing down on the inner veins that pulsed with blood as it slowly arose and grew hard inside his fist.

Small strokes upward and downward caused me gasp as I closed my eyes and allowed the pressure of his hand to stimulate me.

“Ricky, look at me.” Jason ordered.  I opened my eyes, watched him masterfully massage my erection as neared his tongue near the base of my urethra and flicked his tongue across the tip.  I clenched the leather interior of the couch as the weird sensations vibrated my body and made me tingle with excitement.  “I want to suck your cock, my slave.  Will you allow your Master to please you?”

“Yes, Master,” I moaned.  “Please do.”

He accepted my response.  Gripping my hard-on tight, he continued to stroke my cock while his lips latched on to the base of my cock and gradually slid down my entire shaft.  His mouth was warm, slick and inviting as I leaned back and enjoyed the sensation of his saliva moistening and suckling my erection, forcing me to lose all control of my senses and allow him to have full control over me.  Keeping my hands stilled on the leather couch, my body writhed and quivered as continual waves of desire and carnal lust overtook me.

At that moment I became Jason Kendall’s Submissive and him, my Dominant, and I was content and unafraid to please him.  Lifting his face away from shaft, a thin line of saliva mixed with small droplet of my pre-ejaculate connected from the base of my urethra to the tip of his tongue.  He didn’t seem to care as he grinned lasciviously at me.

“Mmm, very tasty, my slave,” he smirked.  Moving up from his knees, he pushed me down against the couch so that my head rested against the armrest.  He climbed on top of the leather seater, parted my thighs even wider with his knee, and slowly covered me with his large body.  His own enormous erection pressed against my belly as the bristles of his hair grazed and tickled my pale white skin.  “I want the both us to experience an orgasm, Ricky.  Together.”

Jeweled blue eyes cast down at my face.  My Dominant angel comforted me.  His muscled arms reached behind my back as he held me, made me feel safe, and sheltered me from the traumas that haunted my childhood.  With Jason, I no longer cringed or backed away from his touch.  I welcomed it.  I knew he was lover I could trust and I willing gave him all of me.  Proving this, I lifted my neck to kiss him.  He reciprocated.

“Master…” I whispered.  “Jason…does this mean you want to fuck me?”

“Not yet, my pet,” he grinned.  His mouth teased my lips.  “I’ll take you when you’re ready.  It’s not your time yet.  Instead, let me masturbate you.”

“Yes, Master,” I found myself saying.  Natural instinct kicked in.  I threw my arms around his bare back and clutched my hands for support to his muscular spine.  Hard ridges pressed against my fingertips as I shut my eyes as his gifted endowment found my erection and placed the two together.  Slowly, he moved.

Up and down.

Up and down.

The friction of our skin burned in very decadent and sensual manner.  I bit my lip as a myriad of feelings, emotions, and sensations sent amazing joy through my body.  My soul sung, danced around the room as I finally tuned in to the sound of the classical Tchaikovsky playing in the background.  Like the rhythm of the orchestra, my body became an instrument as I saw myself flying, soaring like the white dove of my dream toward the sky, the heavens only to meet the one person waiting for me.

Jason Kendall.

“You’re doing…good…uhh,” the dark blond man grunted.  Eagerly, he grabbed both our erections and began rubbing our two cocks together.  The additional grind and rapid pressure brought on a ferocity that I hadn’t ever experienced.  I groaned.

“Jason!  Master!” I panted.  “It’s too much!”  It was true.  I couldn’t bear the intensity of his skills.  His pleasuring actions had made my toes curl and my cause my body to convulse.  I thought I was about to explode.  “Master…something is happening…”

His breath was heavy.  “Uhh…uhh!  Cum with me, Ricky!”

Still tightening his hold on both our cocks, I couldn’t hold back any longer.  I contorted my spine against the leather couch as I reached the pinnacle of climax.

“Jason!  Master!  AAAAHHHHHH!”

Intense pressure shot from my scrotum as a stream of semen erupted from my urethra and splashed my stomach.  The tall hunk laughed as he applied extra pressure and continued to stroke our cocks together.  Then I saw his orgasm arrive right after.

“I’m cumming!  I’m cumming!  AAAHHHHHH!”

A gusher of white joined my own puddle of seed on my belly.  Releasing both our shafts which by now were starting to grow limp, Jason wiped his cum soaked hand on his chest so that the remnants of our pleasure served as reminder of our intense lovemaking.  Leaning down, he connected his lips to mine as he dipped a finger into the pool of jism scattered across my stomach.  Whether it was mine or his, neither one of us cared as he placed a droplet of our combined ecstasy on to his tongue and lowered his face to mine.

“Taste it,” he ordered.  “Taste your pleasure.”

I complied, licked a piece of seed from his tongue and sank in the flavor of our cum.  Salty, viscous and texturally unappealing, I would have regurgitated the flavor.  Instead, I relished it, acquired a taste for the forbidden and the illicit and performed the unthinkable.  I swallowed it.  A piece of both our souls were consumed and the sharing of bodily liquids cemented the agreement. 

Jason Kendall was truly my Master and I was meant to be his slave.  I pondered this for a moment before aggressive strong lips touched mine and the blond hunk embraced me tight kissed the side of my neck.  Weird butterflies tumbled in my stomach as I clutched my lover tight and played with the blond curls at the back of his head.  He shifted his weight and allowed himself to look at me.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me.

My smile was so huge that I thought my face would crack.  “Free.  Released.  I’m no longer afraid, Master.  Nothing is holding back now.  I’m ready for the next thing.  I’m ready to take a risk.”

“Wonderful,” he purred as he caressed my cheek with his mouth.  “When we meet next time, I want to take your virginity.”

Confused, I tried to cock my head but bumped my head against the leather armrest.  “Did you just do that now?”

He shook his head and laughed.  “No.  What we did was foreplay.  I sucked your dick, masturbated your cock and teased your body to respond.  No, my slave.  I want to move to the next step of losing your virginity.”

“And what is that?”

“I want to have anal sex with you.”








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