Cock Training

Many thanks to Toby for this story idea and for sharing with me some of his personal experience!

• Brad

"So your mistress sent you over." It was more of a statement than a question because I had just spent the last 5 minutes explaining all of this to him.

"Yes, sir" I responded uncertainly. He was making me extremely nervous. And not just because he must outweigh me by at least 50 pounds and he looked like he bench pressed cars for fun.

"Because she thinks I'd be a good cock trainer for you."

Yes! I shouted in my mind. Was this all a joke on me or what? What could he not understand?!? Was my mistress just sending me here to humiliate me? That thought prompted an almost involuntary jerk of my head, as though a quick scan of the tiny kitchen would reveal a hidden camera she was now watching me through. Not that I would put it past her - it's very much something she would do. And that is precisely why I had chosen her to be my mistress. She was educated, well spoken and extremely intelligent. I couldn't imagine myself submitting to a woman that I knew I could out think. No, I needed someone who was on her toes and wouldn't let me get away with anything.

The sharp glance up did not reveal a hidden camera to me. What it did do was make me even more uncomfortable than I already was. Here was Mr. Clean, a 250 pound plus gorilla of a guy standing a good 4 inches taller than I. He had his arms folded casually across his barrel of a chest and was staring intently at me, as if I were an interesting bug that he would soon squash under his size 12 loafer. He was dressed fairly nicely, a sharp contrast to the severe look his clean shaven head and piercing gaze provided.

"Well?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience.

"Yes, sir. She thought that you would be a good cock trainer for me." I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and knew that I must be red as a beet now. My embarrassment and humiliation was peaking again. Since I had stepped off the porch and into this man's home, I had gone from a mild nervousness to varying degrees of discomfort and even fright. Not only did he look like he take me apart in seconds, but I fancied that he actually looked like he wanted to! I mean here I am, showing up unannounced on his doorstep per explicit instructions from my mistress. I'm wearing a ludicrous pair of ill fitting panties and nothing else. She allowed me an overcoat to get me here without an incident with law enforcement, but I was instructed to drop that at the doorstep when I was asked inside. Mr. Clean didn't bat an eye. I started to explain myself and the reason for my visit, but he immediately shushed me and just stared. He looked me up and down, taking a

long moment to consider my panties with an utterly unreadable expression. And here I still stood, my head bowed, my pitiful cock tucked away in pink silk that looking nothing short of ridiculous on me.

When he had finally asked what I was doing there it was in a tone that made me think I had interrupted something very important to him. Perhaps he had been in the midst of spinning his refrigerator on his little finger. Or maybe he was picking his teeth from the meal he'd just made of unwelcome intruders? In any case, I immediately was alarmed and concerned for my own safety. Perhaps my mistress had thought this an interesting session for me, sending me to Mr. Clean's house to get the snot beat out of me before crawling back to her house for more humiliation over my lack of physical prowess? I had cast my eyes down then, unwilling to face the condescending look in his eyes. He was not particularly handsome, but he was very impressive and had every reason to feel imperturbably superior to me. With his bulging muscles, his sharp jawline, his haughty and piercing eyes, pressed attire, and a confidence that went with a CEO's position he had indeed

made me feel very inadequate the moment I stepped inside. Having to explain that I wanted to service a cock and that my mistress had given the order for me to come to him like this only heightened my embarrassment, making me wish that I had disobeyed her and taken my punishment for doing so. Her devices and sessions would be brutal, but the sting of the flesh is nothing compared to the sting of this level of humiliation.

While I meekly explained my mission, he had folded his monstrous arms and stared intently at me, as if trying to discern if this was some sort of sick joke or not.

He seemed satisfied that he understood my intentions. I felt his eyes burning into the top of my skull as my own downcast eyes fixed on the linoleum of the small kitchen. Finally he took a step backwards.

"Drop your panties" he said gruffly. He put just enough emphasis on 'panties' to

show his disapproval of them.

I hesitated for a second too long and immediately knew it was a mistake.

"Now!!" he barked, anger flooding him in an instant. He was obviously not accustomed to, nor did he tolerate any form of disobedience.

As I hurriedly hooked my thumbs into the narrow elastic waistband I was even further dismayed to find that my eyes had teared up. I didn't think it was enough to appear more than overly moist, but it was the fact that I was feeling that emotional and out of control that bothered me so much. I'm not by nature someone easily dominated. When I offered sexual control to my mistress, it was an act of will. I GAVE her control because I wanted to let someone else drive for a little while. The sexual thrill from visiting her was allowing a woman to lead. A fair amount of the domination activities were solid reminders to me that I was hers to play with and do as she pleased. It was about her and her pleasure, which in turn really turned me on! I had been seeing her for months now in discreet sessions that my wife knew nothing about. The rest of my life was about as normal as could be and no one would ever suspect that I had interest in servicing a

dominatrix. Recently, I had admitted to her (as she roughly squeezed my balls to remind me that a lie would not be tolerated) that I did want to experience a cock. I wanted to see what it was like to suck on one, to try pleasuring it like I would want someone to do for me. Would I be able to deep throat it? Could I do better than the women who had sucked me in the past? What did it taste like? These thoughts continued to surface unexpectedly in my fantasies and I began to seriously consider finding out the answers. In fact, I also wanted to experience a cock in my ass. My mistress had certainly probed my anal cavity with numerous objects, but I wanted to feel it for real. I wanted to know what the steely flesh would feel like, and the natural pumping action of hips instead of her arm. I was getting anxious to know if I could feel someone cumming in my ass, wondering what wonderful sensations that might bring. I didn't necessarily consider

myself bi, and I had no interest in the man attached to the penis. I merely wanted to know about his cock!

Today when I showed up for my appointment, my mistress had been very abrupt and crude, instructing me to get my 'bitch ass' into the silky panties and then running me out the door, pausing only long enough to run through where I was to go and what I was to say when I got there.

Now as I pulled the panties down over my knees, I regretted not asking her more about it, even if it meant a sharp reprisal for my insubordination.

Stepping out of the only covering I had on my body, I stood up and quickly found the same spot on the floor that I had been so intently considering before. I assumed Mr. Clean was examining my limp penis. I was at least thankful that I had shaved that morning, which always made it look bigger to me. He made some sort of grunt that could have been interpreted in any number of ways and then instructed me to turn around. I complied, not knowing whether he intended to march me out the door in the nude, plant a foot in my ass for troubling him, or maybe just laugh at me. I was absolutely miserable and only wanted this to end. I wasn't at all interested in learning about cocks right now, even though I knew that they would be back in my fantasies as soon as this horrible situation ended.

"Bend over" he grunted. I head him take a few steps and my heart began to race as I locked my knees and bent over at the waist. Frantically I listened for more clues to his whereabouts and intentions. It was amazing to me how fast I hit panic mode when I was exposed and vulnerable like this. Especially considering the size of someone like Mr. Clean! I could only assume that his dick was about the length and thickness of my arm and that thought frightened me as I stood with my bare ass to him now.

Was this what was to become of me? Was this my cock training? Was I here to have my ass plundered by this ape? That was not my idea of training nor anything remotely fun! My panic was tinged with a burning anger at my mistress for putting me here. Why would she do this to me!?

I felt a large hand on my ass and my heart lept into my throat, all the warning bells sounding and a jolt of adrenaline fueling my nerves. I must have jumped a little too because he growled a soft command to relax. I closed my eyes then, fearing the worst and just wanting to get this over with. I wondered how much damage a cock could do to an anal cavity and how long it might take to heal. I prayed it wouldn't involve a trip to see a medical professional or I would really have some explaining to do!!

Mr. Clean's hand squeezed my ass cheek, a relatively soft and painless squeeze. He had no sooner released his grip when I received a smart slap in the exact same place. The smack sounded like the crack of a whip in the otherwise silent room, but didn't hurt nearly as much as you would think from that loud of a sound. He repeated the process for the other ass cheek and I awaited the feeling of a bulbous shape pressing insistently against my exposed asshole. But none came.

"You'll do" was all he said. It was a bored voice, one that communicated disinterest and possibly even disappointment. To my surprise, I was actually stung by the remark! Here I was fearing the absolute worst and ready to bolt for the door and now I'm hurt by the proclamation that I was marginally acceptable!!! I was shocked by how quickly my fear dissolved into indignation. It was actually a little surreal.

"Turn around" he said, maintaining that same 'I guess I can make do with you' tone of voice. I rose and turned to face him, my gaze still glued to the floor. Now however, I was staring at bare feet in lieu of the loafers from a moment ago. I dared to let my eyes travel upwards, revealing first his muscular legs and then up to his waist. He wore only a pair of boxers now and I became fixated with the front of them, trying to make out the outline of his cock. I could tell you that I was doing it out of pure fear or concern for my well being, afraid that he was harboring a gigantic penis that he would nearly split me in two with. But if I were to be honest about it, I was equally interested in just seeing it! I suppose interested is probably a bit of an understatement. For as worried as I was about him being too big, I was also very excited about the idea of seeing and touching one that large.

"Get on your knees, bitch." I shot an impulsive glance up to his face, trying to determine his mood. The word was a harsh one, meant to be derogatory. My mistress used it on me frequently to put me in the right frame of mind - the servant or slave mentality. I was not surprised to find no humor in his face, no softening or playfulness. Just that same hardened set of the jaw, same probing, expectant eyes, same air of superiority. I sank to my knees.

With his hips now at eye level, I returned my focus to his groin, my heart racing and my nerves causing a tremble in my body that I desperately hoped didn't show. I wet my lips, assuming that they would be put into service right away. I was only half right. He surprised me by stepping forward, closing the distance between us and placing my nose at his waistband. He actually bumped into my face and I leaned back just enough to separate us again.

"No, bitch" was all he said as he placed a hand on the back of my head and pulled me roughly back against him. This time the collision of face against waist wasn't a gentle bump. It didn't actually hurt per se, but it wasn't pleasant and the message rang through quite clearly. He held my head there for a long moment, my face plastered unceremoniously against him, half against his warm flesh and the lower half against the cotton of his shorts. I was confused. I wasn't sure what he was doing, much less what he wanted me to be doing. I hesitantly reached both arms up to lower his jockeys.

"No, bitch" rolled off his tongue again, this time much more forcefully. I froze, but it was too late. His hand pressed to the back of my head grabbed a handful of hair, yanking my head back hard. My face snapped upwards and my eyes flew wide open, suddenly on full alert. He held me like that while his left hand fumbled with his only remaining clothing. I had assumed I was to be struck with that hand and in the seconds that passed I realized that I had been wrong. I was terrified to do anything but stay frozen like that, staring with wild eyes up into his face, my head cocked back at an uncomfortable angle, making it difficult to swallow. Accomplishing his task, his left hand now entered my limited range of vision and his intent became clear as he struck. In his hand he held his still semi-soft penis. With it, he slapped my upturned face. The first couple of smacks were small, inconsequential. I felt his cock strike my lips, my cheek and my

nose. I still couldn't make out size yet, but he definitely did not have the length or girth to land heavy blows with it. Heavy blows or not, intentional or not, when he used his prick to smack my right eye, it did sting. Priding myself on being a relatively quick learner, I snapped my eyelids tightly closed against the assault. A few more small hits of cock against face and he pulled my face back against him, trapping his cock alongside my nose so that the head of it was pressing into my eye socket. Again not exactly painful, but not at all comfortable, not to mention blinding! As his anger dissipated and the discipline passed, time slowed to a normal pace again and I was able to recover my senses. During his 'flogging' I had been completely caught up in the moment. Now I registered the smell of his skin, the feel of it against my face, and the reality of the situation. I was pressing hard against this mans penis, the base of it somewhere

around my chin and the crown pushing insistently against my closed eye. The skin was warm and silky soft. In a surreal sort of way, it was sort of pleasant! Perhaps it was strictly because it was my first encounter with touching another man's penis. Or perhaps the pleasure of it was heightened by the idea that it was far more preferable to being assaulted by him. In any case, my body dumped the last of the adrenaline from my blood stream and I relaxed a little. I'm not sure if he took this as a sign of submission or not, but he obviously felt my muscles relax and he let go of me. Having learned my lesson, I did not move.

I opened my eyes to see him step away and drop his boxers to the floor. I was glad for the opportunity to view his naked body and appreciate it. I am not attracted to men, but I do have an appreciation for the male form. I enjoy a view of a nice cock and I respect how he had built his body to such a fit and powerful form. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had guessed completely wrong - his cock was very nice indeed, but certainly not of monstrous size. In fact, it was similar to my own, though undoubtedly thicker. He was semi-hard and when directly facing me had a noticeable curve in his shaft, pointing the head somewhere left of center. It stood out from his body, not yet parallel to the floor. He now circled me, sidling up on my right side. Not wanting to invoke his anger again, I waited patiently, reluctant to even turn my head. Instead, I followed his progress with my eyes as best I could. When he drew close over my right shoulder

I again lost sight of him but felt his cock on my ear. He guided his cock with his hands, tracing it along my face as you might do with a paintbrush. He sort of stroked my cheek with it, up and down over and over. He was pushing hard enough with it against me that I could feel it growing stiffer. As he did this, my thoughts morphed from thinking this very odd behavior to accepting it and then even to wanting him.

No, that's not entirely accurate. It wasn't so much that I wanted him to continue this, but more that I wanted to experience something else. I was excited by the feel of a strong cock on my face, but I wanted to do something with it. I wanted to look at it and touch it, stroke it and yes, even taste it. I really wanted to turn my head to face it, to feel it against my lips and to see it so closely. I was not eager to get myself into more trouble, however, so I resisted the urge. Instead, I focused on having this man's cock against my face, how it felt as he dragged it along my skin, how unique it was in being both hard and soft at the same time. It was thrilling to finally have a cock up against me after all that wondering and fantasizing about what it would feel like. Granted, I hadn't ever had a fantasy or even a spare thought about having it rubbed forcefully against my head like this, but it did offer an opportunity for me to relax more (not

being threatened by having it shoved down my throat or into my ass). In addition, it sparked an odd feeling inside me, one of desire and anticipation that I found to be completely unexpected! I knew that I wanted to try servicing a dick, but I never expected to look forward to it quite this much! Even at that moment, I was pretty convinced that Mr. Clean knew this and that was precisely his motivation behind treating me as he had. It was all about dropping me down into a mindset of servitude, one where I could completely abandon all normal thoughts and inhibitions. To place me in an unreal situation, one where I was completely under someone else's control, and let me experience it from another perspective. This would allow me to let go of my personality and any feelings that might prevent me from thoroughly enjoying the sexual experience.

Mr. Clean grabbed my hair again, turning my head towards him. I was anxious to comply, but most uncomfortable doing it. Having my head to the side was fine for looking around, but it was not meant to be a position held for a long time, especially with someone pushing against you! Fortunately, with the twist of my head, he stopped rubbing against me. Instead, he placed the tip of his cock against my nose. I looked first to it, then up to him. His cold eyes revealed nothing so I dropped my gaze back down to his manhood, which was now pushing against my nose enough to bend it to the side a little. I inhaled the clean scent of freshly showered skin, marveled at how much bigger it looked only inches from my eyes, and entertained fleeting thoughts of trying to get at it with my mouth or tongue.

I was beginning to yearn for it now, to really want it inside me in one capacity or another. I wanted to know what I could do with it, if I could make him feel good, to know what it was like to have someone fucking me.

As far back as I could remember, I had wondered what it felt like to be my wife, to have me driving into her pussy over and over. Was it pleasurable? Was it rough or exciting or did it become old and tiresome? I wanted to know first hand, to not be in control of the fucking and to let someone else choose the pace and the position. To be more passive in the act and just... feel it.

Mr. Clean lowered his cock agonizingly slowly, raking it down the underside of my nose and upper lip.

"Put yer tongue out" he commanded. I obeyed, stretching the tip out to bridge the distance to his penis as he pulled back a few inches, still grasping my head and holding it firmly where chin almost rested on shoulder. Once more he took prick in hand and began slapping with it, this time landing each strike against my outstretched tongue. I became immediately frustrated by my inability to enjoy this. I wanted to taste his cock and these quick blows on my tongue did not afford the opportunity to taste it. I wanted to relax and work with it but the awkward position made this difficult as well.

Finally he swung around in front of me and let go of my head, allowing me to at least relax my tensed neck muscles.

"Open your mouth" he growled. I did so, licking my lips first to keep them moist. Mr. Clean stood a step away and began to stroke his pole, a slow and deliberate fist wrapped around it. I watched with rapt attention as he slid his hand up and down the shaft, his balls swinging gently back and forth with the movement. I don't believe that a professional hypnotist with a silver medallion could have held my attention better! It made me want to try it, to wrap MY hands around that beautiful cock and do that stroking!

Mr. Clean shuffled forward again, once more bringing his sexy tool to my lips.

"Tongue out" he barked. In my trance, I hadn't realized that I had drawn my tongue back in! At this point, there wasn't much of anything I was aware of. I seemed to be part of a whole other world now, riding along in someone else's body, a casual observer in a 3D movie or something. Obediently my tongue slipped out of my mouth and Mr. Clean promptly rubbed his cock all over it, his skin slick with my saliva it slid effortlessly around in circles before he took it to my lips, running back and forth across them, parting them slightly. He pivoted slightly and placed the shaft against my tongue and lips. He put a hand heavily on the top of my head and began raking it back and forth, supporting his cock in his other hand, keeping it pressed against my mouth so that my mouth traveled the length of it, back and forth down the side of his hard-on, lips and tongue creating a slick trail from tip to base. I moaned, so close and so anxious to get it in my

mouth that I couldn't stand it anymore.

"You need this, bitch." It was not a question but a statement of fact. He knew I wanted it and he knew that I had slipped fully into my fantasy, dying to service a cock and satisfy the curiosity that had been plaguing me.

Releasing my head, he twisted back into place before me and pressed the head of his penis against my lips. I opened my mouth unhesitatingly, already my lessons of earlier escaping me. I wasn't even thinking about waiting for his instruction because I was on autopilot now, hungry for his cock and ready to take it in. If he was upset with my bold disobedience, he didn't show it. Instead, he pushed the wonderful tip of his dick into my mouth. He slid it in just until I could feel the where the ridges of the crown met his steely shaft against my upper lip. My head swam with the significance of the moment, of being here for the first time after dreaming of it for so long now. I felt my pulse racing and adrenaline surged through me as I closed my mouth around it, feeling and tasting it, my lips conforming to the contours of it. I felt a wave of dizziness and I closed my eyes, relishing the moment and caressing this new found treat with my tongue. I

wanted more, needed more, and I tried to slide my head forward onto his cock. He abruptly grabbed my head in both hands and stopped me.

"No, bitch." He held me there, breaking my moment of bliss and concentration. His cock still poised just inside my lips, he slowly withdrew it an inch and then re-inserted, tiny movements of his hips that would not allow his cock to fall free of my mouth while he slipped just the head in and out of my mouth. From that moment I think I knew that I was destined to enjoy cocksucking. I loved the feeling of being under his control, his demands. I had become impossibly horny in no time at all and I reveled at the thought of being able to properly service such a beautiful organ. In and out he went, always just an inch or so, maddeningly slowly. When I began to work my tongue against him, he withdrew completely. Still holding my head in his hands, he pulled his prick free of my mouth. It promptly stood upwards at full attention and he pulled my face roughly against it. He rubbed my head up and down it as if I were nothing but a cleaning rag to polish

it with. Then he pushed me down so that my mouth was against his balls.

"Suck em" he said, shoving my head between his legs. I tried, using my tongue to try and sort of corral them into my mouth while I used my hands to brace myself from toppling over and falling down between his powerful legs. I licked and twisted my head as best I could while he held it pinned in place, but I couldn't seem to get them. Each time I thought I would be successful, his testicle would slip away from me, leaving me frustrated and feeling like a failure. I had assumed that pleasing a man was going to be fairly simple and straight forward. I had no idea that there might be things I would fail at! Again and again my searching tongue would seek its target and again and again I would fail to get it into my mouth. I tried sucking his nuts into my mouth, but only succeeded in making an obnoxiously loud slurping noise against his now slick nutsack. Thankfully, he spared me further anguish and pulled my head back to a dick sucking position.

"Open" he ordered. I complied, parting lips to accept my prize.

"OPEN" he repeated loudly. I opened my mouth further, forming an "O" as if I were yelling "Owww".

"OPEN!" he shouted at me, inserting his thumb into my mouth and pushing down on my lower jaw -- hard. It jerked my mouth open further than it could stretch and my head tipped down to follow it. It hurt but I didn't have time to respond to the pain before he had jammed his cock into my mouth, his thumb still hooked against my bottom teeth.

"Now hold it there" he growled, removing his thumb and drying it roughly against my cheek. My former elation at having his penis in my mouth was replaced with apprehension. I must have disappointed him with my failure at sucking on his balls and I feared now that he would take it out on my mouth, turning my enjoyment into something to punish me with. I struggled to keep my already aching jaws open as wide as possible while he continued to slide his dick into it. I knew I wouldn't be far from gagging and I wanted to be able to close my mouth against that a little. Pleadingly I looked up at him, but his full attention was on the sight of his member disappearing slowly into my mouth. With my mouth open so far, I couldn't really feel his dick, just the tip of it sliding along the roof of my mouth. As he went deeper, he also slowed. By the time he had reached the back of my tongue, he had nearly stopped. I felt better about not gagging now, but the

joints of my jaws really hurt and were an unwelcome distraction for me. He parked himself there for a long moment, almost his entire shaft in my mouth, the tip resting dangerously close to a spot I was sure would cause a violent gag reflex for me. Nasty images of gagging and possibly even throwing up worried me and I was struggling to keep my mouth open now. It was starting to close, seemingly of its own accord and I gave in, the pain of any retribution from him presumably easier to handle the throbbing in my jaws.

He must have expected this, because he didn't punish me for it. Instead, he let me relax and just hold my prize in my mouth, relaxing as much as I could around it.

When the pain in my jaws subsided, I turned my attention to the thick organ in my mouth. I began to explore it a little, feeling it with my tongue and closing my lips onto it, enjoying the feeling of it in spite of my little ordeal. Mr. Clean let me suck on him for a moment, not really moving my head but literally sucking on him like I might with a piece of candy. He relaxed his grip on my head and adopted more of an encouraging pressure, beginning to push and pull my head onto and back off of his cock. He did this slowly, allowing me to use my tongue and tight lips to increase stimulation and exploration, giving me a chance to begin enjoying him again. I was falling into his rhythm, tilting my head slightly to one side and trying to see his face, to get an idea of how much this might be pleasing him. As soon as I did, he stopped me, holding my head lightly but firmly and taking over, fucking my mouth instead of using my head to make me suck him.

This required more concentration from me, as I nearly gagged with each stroke, his cock driving into the back of my mouth and towards my virgin throat. For as much as it detracted from my ability to just enjoy this, I was also highly interested in getting over my gag reflex. Not to mention the fact that I was thrilled with the idea of him fucking my mouth and finally being able to see what giving up that control felt like! Again I settled into a rhythm and again he broke it. First he pressed his beautiful fuck stick all the way into my mouth, my lips pressed against him on one side and the fat tip tickling my throat at the other. My gag reflex did kick in and with force. My chest heaved, my throat tightened up and that uncontrolled wretch racked my mouth. My eyes streamed and I fought to pull my head back off of him. He held me very tightly for a second, and then let go. As he popped free of my mouth I was simultaneously relieved and saddened.

That was not how I wanted to overcome my gagging! I had pictured my training as being much slower and more gentle, of repeated tries until I could manage it. Not this! And yet somehow, this was perfectly acceptable. The way that he was controlling me, dominating me, it took all of the responsibility off of me. If I couldn't perform, it could be blamed on him and his forcefulness, not necessarily on my lack of skills. I didn't have long to think about it though, because already he was pulling on my hair, pulling me down to the floor on hands and knees.

He rose and crossed the room and instinctively I knew what was happening. Even before I saw the tube in his hands, I knew that it would be lubricant. He took the expected position behind me and I heard the gel being squirted from the tube onto his hands. Then the cold gel was on my asshole, his finger working it all around and just inside. More squirting and the sound of it being rubbed against skin. A knot rose in my throat and I awaited the pain, my body tense.

But it didn't come. He spread my ass cheeks with his big hands and I felt the head of his dick against my slippery asshole. But no pain. No quick thrusts. Instead, he merely poked at it, probably not enough to penetrate even a little. If it did, I couldn't feel it. I felt his insistent bumping, his cock hitting its target over and over, pushing against me until I knew that his penis bent and slipped off my hole. I began to relax just a little because this was truly pleasurable. I loved the feeling of him against the pucker of my bunghole, it was both relaxing and also extremely sexual. Mr. Clean changed position slightly and now used one hand to separate my ass cheeks, his other holding his cock. He rubbed it up and down, much like he had done on my face, but now crossing the sensitive skin of my asshole. Soon it changed again and now he was just pressing against me. I felt myself open to him and a stab of panic ran through me. I needn't

have worried because he didn't go any further, just sort of parked it there. With the tip of his cock now lodged in my ass, he let go of the shaft and brought his palm smartly against my right ass cheek. It was sudden and most unexpected, causing me to flinch and grunt. This landed me another slap, equally as hard and in the exact same spot. The flesh there was hot and stung fiercely. While I was focused on this and anticipating another blow, Mr. Clean pushed his thick cock a little further into me. A bright flash of pain shot up from my anal cavity but was just as quickly overshadowed by another slap. While the sting abated, Mr. Clean began to shift his hips a little, working his dick in and out of my ass much like he had started with my mouth - just an inch or so in either direction. Within seconds this had become pleasurable and I was again relaxing and enjoying it.

Mr. Clean paused, his manhood pressing against my prostate, causing mild discomfort but not too bad. I was back to thinking about how I had a dick in my ass and how I had been looking forward to this, eager to understand how it felt and what I would think of myself once in the position. I decided that I felt just fine with it! Being Mr. Clean's bitch didn't seem to have a thing to do with me or my life. It made no proclamations about who I was or what I was about. All it really said, I decided, was that I had found a sexual practice that I enjoyed and that made me feel good. If I could leave the rest of my life behind for a little while and have fun with a stiff cock in my butt, then so be it!

Having this new attitude and discovery fresh in mind, I began to slowly rock my own hips a little, slowly backing towards and then away from him, taking his penis just a little deeper each time. Several times I paused, the pain sharp and bright again. These moments passed quickly though, as neither of us pushed this part quick enough to cause severe pain. Eventually there was a noticeable 'pop' as he slid into me, and an accompanying flash of pain. Again he held perfectly still and again the pain passed quickly. As the seconds ticked by and I fully relaxed again, I was suddenly very anxious to have him fucking me. I was absolutely thrilled to have a live cock inside me and I was eager to feel it to the fullest, including having him pump me full of his hot cum!!! I lowered myself to my forearms, raising my ass to him. He grabbed a hold of my hips and began to slowly fuck me, still allowing me to get used to his dick inside me. I felt no more

pain after that and the pleasure surpassed all that I had imagined and hoped it would! I reached down between my legs while balancing on the other arm and I began to stroke my own dick -the first I had touched it since arriving here. I was as hard as a rock, my balls swinging gaily as he thrust into me again and again. He was now burying his dick the full length inside my ass, his hips slapping against my butt with each stroke. He varied his fucking and continually tried different depths and speeds, but I really enjoyed the hard, fast fucking. Feeling him slam up against me, his sword buried to the hilt inside me, that was what really got me going. At one point, Mr. Clean was plowing into me with a rapidity that bordered on inhuman. The sensations that produced in my body were so intense that I nearly came without even touching my dick. I'm convinced that I would have, too, if he hadn't suddenly slowed again. I loved that feeling of fullness in

my ass and in my belly and I didn't want it to end!

Eventually Mr. Clean worked up to full speed again and I heard him grunt. It dawned on me that he was about to cum and I did my best to tighten up my rear end for him, hoping that it would feel like I was really milking his cock for him. He shot deep inside me and continued thrusting, my insides immediately slicker as he filled me with his cum. He slowed to a halt and then just rested inside me for a moment, presumably to catch his breath and slow his racing heart. I was exhausted from the experience but absolutely thrilled with it. For as different as I had pictured it being, I don't think I would have changed a thing. As soon as he had withdrawn from me, he got up and fetched a few paper towels, throwing them to the floor in front of me.

"Clean yourself up." I couldn't believe my ears and I sat there stunned, my mouth hanging open. His voice carried none of the earlier derision or sharpness. It was the mild tone of a casual conversation, completely normal and 100% opposite of how he had spoken to me previously. He saw the shock on my face and smiled a genuine, warm smile. The eyes that had been so cold, so angry before were now warm and accepting.

"Wha-" I began but didn't finish.

His smile broadened. "Aw, that wasn't real!" he exclaimed. "Your mistress is an old friend of mine. She called and asked me to do the favor. She said to be ruthless and bullying. But that's not how I really am."

I remained in shocked silence as I began to wipe myself clean. I really wasn't sure what to feel! In a way I suddenly felt much safer with this hulk of a guy, but I was also a little angry at the deception. Being dominated was thrilling, but it wasn't how I had pictured my first experience. I had always fantasized about a slow seduction and a mutually pleasurable experience. Mr. Clean sensed my emotions and tried again.

"Listen," he said. "Let me make it up to you. Use the bathroom over there and get yourself all put back together. Then meet me in the bedroom and we'll start all over and do this properly."

He had a gleam in his eye and a mischievous smile on his lips. I was still reeling from this new development, but I slowly nodded my head in agreement.

"Ok" I finally managed. I crossed the kitchen and slipped into the bathroom, wondering what kind of "first time" I was about to experience!