- Cooking
He looks like a little boy, sleeping so sweetly. I go over to the bed and lie down beside him. He's rolled over on his left side, so all I have to do is reach down, cradle his bright pink cheek in my hand and squeeze. He groans but presses his ass into my hand so I know he's gotten to the point where the pain is crossing the line into pleasure. I give him a good crisp slap and he pulls away. "Okay, okay, I'm awake!"
He rolls onto his back but realizes that he's still a bit too sore to have his bottom make contact with the mattress so he rolls over again on his right side facing me. "Rub your naked body against my clothes," I order him, and realize how much it's turning me on that he's still naked. Much to my delight, he does what I've told him to do. I can tell he's getting off on it.
"I feel more naked because you're not, Dave," he tells me. "It's different than when we're in the locker room showers and we're all naked." I press into the idea a little bit more because his reaction to this situation keeps giving me more ideas that really turn me on. "That's right, boy. Think of this: I can see your little dick but you can't see mine."
"Why do you keep calling it my `little dick?' It's not much smaller than yours." I like that he resists that a little bit. He's struggling to make sense of what I'm doing to him. That's good. I don't want him to just blindly agree with everything I say. I want him to struggle and even resist me a bit, as long as it finally leads to him submitting to the way I see things.
"Listen, kid. You're shorter than me and you don't have much muscular development. Compared to me, you're a little boy. Sure, I knew we're the same age, but that doesn't matter. Face it, kid: you're the little one here." I reach down and take his dick in my hand. He tries to pull away but I smack his ass and he stops fighting me. "What am I holding in my hand right now?" It's like a two-inch gummy worm. Little, Murph, little. Get used to the idea. Not only that, but your little dick (I stress the L word again) got you in trouble before, remember? Your ass is sore right now because your little dick got out of control and spilled your cum all over the place before I gave you permission. That's why you got punished."
I want him to understand this: he gets punished when he disobeys me. After all, I'm his protector. I'm the one who stopped the other guys in our class from picking on him. He owes me his obedience now. Disobedience leads to punishment.
"No one picks on you in school any more, Murphy. Why?"
"Because you put a stop to it. I'm so grateful that you did that, Dave. I can't thank you enough."
"You can thank me just fine, kid. You can thank me by obeying me. You can thank me by admitting that from now on I'm not only your protector, I'm also somewhat in control now. That's been true for a long time, Murphy. I just want to make sure it's official now. I decide how I want things to be and you just go along with it. I mean, look at yourself right now. You're lying here with me stark naked and I'm not. Why? Because I haven't let you put your clothes back on again. Your ass is sore. Why? Because I gave you a spanking. Why did I spank you? Because . . . . . tell me, boy.. . . "
". . .because you told me I couldn't cum but I did anyway. It was an accident, Dave. I told you I was sorry. I just couldn't control myself." "And so you got your first bare-ass spanking. I spanked you until you started crying, just like a little boy." There is that word again: little.
"I've even shortened you name now to Murph. And I have to tell you, Murph: you look adorable when you're crying like that. It makes me feel really good to know that I you will cry for me sometimes." Maybe I'm pushing things too much, but I really want him to understand where I'm coming from. Either he'll fight me off and say I'm just talking bullshit . . or . . .. . it will start to make sense to him. I'm betting on the latter because after all, this sweet boy is naturally submissive. I'm just trying to get him to realize it now in a way that he never did before.
He doesn't say anything but I can tell he's thinking things over. Also, his dick started growing. That's sure sign that what I'm saying is turning him on. A stiff dick never lies, they say. Anyway, I kiss his forehead and then put my thumb to his lips. He opens his mouth and sucks it in, toying with the tip of my thumb with his thumb, just like he toyed with the end of my dick when I made him take it into his mouth before.
"I've made a decision about you," I tell him.
"What's that, Sir," he asks, sitting up a bit.
"I've decided I want you to learn how to cook. I asked Mom and she said she'd be happy to teach you a few things."
"Why?"
"The simple answer is because I want it. The more complicated answer is that it's a useful skill to have, especially since you're not planning to go to college. You'll be able to get a job cooking. And, since you're a sub, it's a skill you'll be able to use to please other men. You can't spend all your time just sucking cock, boy. You need some domestic skills as well."
"Dude, we're not even out of high school yet. I have no idea what I'll end up doing for work."
"I know you don't. But as your protector, your stronger buddy, the boss of you, I'm making plans for your future training."
"What's this `future training' shit? I'm not like your puppy or something, Dave."
"You sure as fuck licked my dick clean like a puppy earlier, boy. And I distinctly remember you promising you'd do anything for me." He puts his hand to his face. "Oh shit. Yeah, but that just sexy. I didn't mean ANYTHING, anything."
"Stop being such a wise-ass. Before he can say another word I've got him over my knees again. I slap his ass once and he puts his hand to his ass and tries to get up. I grab both his wrists in one hand and hit him three more times with the other hand."
"fuck, that hurts!"
"It's supposed to hurt. It's punishment. It's the only way I'm able to train you how to behave. Just like training a puppy. Besides, I like thrashing you, boy."
He tries to get away from me but ends up back down on the floor. I stick my bare foot in his face. "Lick it, faggot!"
"fucking gross," he says, but when he opens his mouth to speak I shove my toes in.
"Either suck those toes or I'll go get my belt."
He starts sucking them. VICTORY!"
"That's right, boy, show me you know your place. Show me how much you like to make me feel good. All over, too, just like before when you licked my slimy dick clean. That's what your mouth and tongue are for: to give me pleasure. And once I train you well, you'll end up being able to give pleasure to a lot of dominant men who like being served by a submissive faggot like you. It's time to get up now, Murph. Get off the floor and put your clothes on. I can't have my Mom having to see you naked. Do it! Get up and put your clothes on. Or do I really have to get my belt?"
Okay, okay," he says, grumpy, and looks around for where his clothes ended up earlier. I pick his jeans and t-shirt up off the chair and toss them on top of his head. "Get dressed, faggot. NOW!"
I help him up off the floor then pick up his pants and hold them out for him to step in. He puts one hand on my shoulder and raises his leg.
"That's better.." I was afraid his submissiveness hadn't completely woken up from the nap I let him take. I have to remind myself to be patient. Gotta keep the boy on a long leash but encourage every positive move he towards becoming a true sub. Eventually he'll be ready to be pulled in again. At least he's on his feet now, pulling up his pants. I deliberately didn't give him his briefs first. He looked around for them but I impatiently started jiggling his pants. He just gave up and puts his leg through his jeans.
"The other one," I coach.
He obeys me. Then I pull them up myself and pull up his zipper. He groans. "The rough denim hurts."
"I'm sure it does. That's what happens when a bad boy gets punished. That's why I didn't let you put on any underpants, so you'd feel it more. Maybe it will remind you to be a good boy when you're downstairs with Mom."
He makes a face. "Too much to think about."
Rather than hit him again, I just chuckle as if I think he's being funny. I mock punch his face. He grabs my fist and kisses it.
"Your red ass up against the denim will do the thinking for you, boy. It will remind you what it felt like to get punished. It can help you realize that someone is taking charge of you now. There will always be someone else you'll have to answer to, kid. For the moment, that's me, but there will be others as well who will take over after I'm not in the picture. Now go downstairs. Mom is waiting for you—and oh yeah, you can call her `Mom' too. I'll let you."
I know for a fact that he calls his mother by her first name. Besides, she's not really much of a mother to him. So now he'll learn there's a benefit to him being my boy: now he has a Mom. And that's the way it all got started. Every day after school for the rest of the year, he'd come home with me. I stopped showering after gym as well to save time. He started getting into the taste and smell of my sweaty crotch. He actually told me it turned him on to suck me off while I was still ripe, the little pig. So that became part of our routine after school.
Eventually I told him I didn't want him to touch his "little dick" when he was with me, that he should save it for some other time. It was a struggle, but after a couple weeks he got used to the idea. What a fucking turn-on that was for me! Yes!!!! Only one cock matters now. Along the way, it seemed that I was automatically starting to think like a Dom. Murph and Julian and I were all training together.
Some days we'd shower together after I fed him my load. Other days I'd just wait until he went down for his daily cooking lesson. And on yeah, I don't want you to get the wrong idea: I always made sure he had enough time to get his homework done.
Mom really took a liking to him. After all, he was a sweet kid and soaked up the attention and the affection that he didn't get much home. More and more, this became his home as well. He spent most of his time here and only want back to his own house to sleep. So anyway, he and my mother became good buddies. He even started coming over on Saturdays when I was at work. I'd get home and shower after Mikey sucked me off at the store. After a few weeks, Murph actually managed to cook his first meal on his own for our Saturday night supper. Both Mom and Dad praised the shit out of him and he soaked it up. I gave him a special reward afterwards: I let him jerk off while I watched. The little queer actually thanked me after he came into his hand. I was tempted to make him lick it up, but decided to save that for another time.
Yeah, it was a good decision getting him to start cooking. It's paid off a lot for him over the years. Now Murph was actually making a living cooking. He had a great job cooking and doing houseboy chores for a couple in their late 40's (no sex involved). He was living with them now and cooked all three meals for them every day. They also had a lot of company and special gatherings, so his talents were really called for, and he had all the freedom to be as creative as he wanted to be. Sometimes one of their guests would take a shining to him; once in a while he'd end up becoming the guy's desert, upstairs, after everyone else had left.
Titus and Anthony were completely vanilla and so were most of the guys in their crowd. He always acted super submissive when guys he didn't know were around, just in case someone might pick up on it and get the idea. A couple of times he learned what it was like to serve a much older Master, but that's another story for another time.
After a while they worked out an arrangement where Murph was off-duty after fixing dinner. They hired young broke gay guys to serve and then clean up. Sometimes, however, one or two of the broke gays would stay the night and by the time they left their financial situation had been improved quite a bit. Enough said about that. Maybe some other time. Oh, just one other thing: He was able to take off whole days at a time whenever I was around and wanted him serving me. After all, in a way, I was the one who helped my little faggot friend find out how good he felt when he was obedient to a superior man. I'm the one who gave birth to the little faggot. I'm the Proto-Master.
That's right. I've always been Master for him since high school, and I still have full rights to claim him as my slave whenever it suits me. He never has overnights with any of the Doms he serves or when he goes out to one of the Clubs, which I didn't really approve of, but finally agreed it was okay as long as he was brought there and back home by a Dom I trusted to keep him safe. I'll always be protective of him somehow. Like me, Murph has never ever wanted a long-term D/s relationship with anyone else. In our own way, we're both sluts.
Our love for each other satisfies us both; we're always sure of it even when we lose contact for periods of time. I have always had a hand in directing his decisions about his life, and when I want him as my slave he gets his fill of every submissive and masochistic need he's ever had, and some he had never yet discovered. I take real good care of my Murph without having to put up with living with him. We never have and probably never will.
So, as for our pre-Shaft dinner: We didn't want to eat a heavy meal, my buddies and I. Murph cooked a real nice light fish dish that was out of this world and a couple tasty vegetables. Damn he's good at his craft! The guy Gene brought with him is a pretty nice guy from what I can tell. His name's Tony. Really! Pure New Jersey Italian stud! Alpha as well and I caught Murph trembling a couple times when Tony started questioning him. Yes indeed, this is going to be an interesting meeting. I've gotta keep an eye on this Tony guy, though. Something seems off, or maybe it's just my mistrust of anything coming from New Jersey. What can I say? I'm just a typical New Yorker.
Of course, I could step in and claim the boy as my own tonight. But I won't do that to Murph. He was looking forward to being at the Shaft with me there because he could really let his hair down all the way. I'd make sure nothing happened to him that I wasn't willing to allow and he knew that. Kind of sets the kid free, if you can understand what I'm getting at.
And No, I don't think I'm God. Sometimes, to be honest, I think I'm more like the other guy. But speaking of God-the-deity, I'm a much better God to Murph then that one. I'll always stop him from getting hurt. The Big Guy doesn't do that for us, does he? Okay, enough religion. Sorry for the distraction.
So anyway, Tony. Bad vibes. I didn't interfere when he was chatting the boy up, but some of the things he was saying hit me the wrong way. He was hinting at electro right away for one thing, and he also asked the boy what his favorite type of whip is. I told you Murph was trembling, but I wasn't sure if he was trembling from being turned on or trembling from getting frightened. I think it was the latter because he kept looking over at me when Tony was talking to him, even though he knows that he'd get punished if he ever did that to me. I'd always tell him, "Look me in the fucking eye, faggot, when I'm talking to you. Give me every ounce of your attention." That's never really been an issue for us. I'd broken him in about paying attention to me before we even graduated high school.
So anyway, I decide to take things over. We were planning to go to the Shaft together, the three of us. Murph has his own car. He can come by after he cleans up here. They know him there. He's been going there for years. He won't have any trouble getting in as a single unattached sub. They know he'll leave unattached as well, no matter what happens while he's there.
"Hey guys, I think I'm gonna stay behind. I'll have the boy drive us both over, afterwards," trying to give them the idea that I'm planning to use the boy here in private first. I'm not doing it for that reason. Sure, the kid will get naked for me as soon as they're out the door. I'll even help him clean up, toy with his body a bit along the way. I have something up my sleeve and he damn well knows it and he gets increasingly more tense as we're finishing up the last couple things. "Relax, baby. It's me. I just want to talk to you." (That's a lie.) I tap his chin and raise his face. "Open," I order, then spit into his mouth a few times. . . . . . . . "Swallow." This pops him right down into the space I want him at quickly.
THAT'S ALL FOR NOW
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