Hey everyone: your favorite submissive lawyer seb here. I had to say that because of an article I read that made me think: it seems that if gay lawyers are asked if they're top or bottom, more than 70% say they're tops, but when guys in relationships with lawyers characterize their roles, more than 60% say that they are the top. Figures, doesn't it? Just something to think about when you're sitting there waiting for your Master to come over and begin working your nipples. Master Dom told you about the piercing. I'll talk about it, and I'll tell you: I'm still conflicted about it. I mean, I knew that the contract said that my body belonged to Master, and he could "adorn" it however he liked without permission but, still...Through our relationship, Master has almost never done something dominant that I didn't really REALLY love. When he pressed on the piercing, I didn't want it. Breaking me for it was hot, and yeah, I did beg for it and, well, I have to say: that guiche is so fucking HOT. Master was right: no one can see it, but him (and if I contort myself, I can see it too). But I can feel it. I feel it ALL the time, and that area right around my balls and cock? OH MY GOD, is it supersensitive now. I did read some stuff that warned that it was very easy to damage a bottom's tissue by playing with the guiche too vigorously, but it won't surprise you when I write that Master knows what he's doing. The first time he played with it, I SWEAR I nearly passed out, I was so blissed by the sensation. Sometimes, he won't just play with it with his fingers: he'll spread me far enough so that he can get his tongue in and push the ring around, or he'll take it in his teeth and pull, very very gently. It drives me absolutely wild. The first time he did that, I wasn't caged, and Master had drained me early that day. When he toyed with the ring, well, I blew another load: one I didn't think I had. Master laughed. He had my jizz all over his face and said "Well, boy, I think you're just gonna have to be locked up from now on when I want to play with that." I'm locked up a lot these days: the guiche wasn't the only way Master was beginning to become more and more dominant. Like, he told you about that scene when he was writing the story? He left out some stuff that I'm gonna write about. Thinking about it is already making me hard. Master has me locked up, so it's probable that I won't cum, but, well, one of the things he got me is a combination ball spreader and prostate stimulator. I'm wearing it and... Let me get back to writing. Master told you about making me wear the police uniform. Part of the reason for that was that while the uniform had gotten tighter, it fit me better than a lot of the clothes I had. Master's right: the gym has helped me bulk up big time. It's also made my nipples WAY more sensitive. Master and I have to go out and pick out clothes for me. My old dress clothes, though? They didn't go to waste. Remember how I told you that seeing Master in the tuxedo nearly made me cream the whole night of the formal affair? Well, Master remembered that, and when I needed to start discarding my shirts, he tried one of them on. I was there, and I gasped: he looked so good. I remember how he smiled and said, "so you like it when Dom cleans up?" I could barely speak, but I got out "OH SIR, YOU CLEAN UP BETTER THAN ANYONE ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET." Eventually, I learned that my favorite way for him to go "white collar" on me (Master's phrase), was with three or even four open buttons, rolled sleeves, and a pair of his tight, worn jeans. You know those bad romance book covers that show the hot, silver daddy on the front with a wicked smile? Well, Master is ten times better. And he had dressed that way that night in the shirt I like best: my old pink one. He also didn't tell you that every few minutes, he'd reach over, adjust the hitachi and tease my torso with a finger, or two fingers, and sometimes he'd whisper: "I'm gonna FUCK you harder than you've ever been fucked." I really couldn't wait. And seeing him work away like that. Master sweats very easily, and he was sweating a lot. You know I love his body odor and I was desperate to get a taste of his pits. I think that's what I was thinking about when I finally gave up and came in my uniform pants. I knew I was never going to make it to 30 minutes, but I'd made it to 25 before. And then, what happened afterward: like he told you, he looked at the 18 minutes and decided he'd add the additional 12. By the time he told me that, he had taken out my gag, and when he said I'd be getting 30 instead of 18, I forgot myself. I said something like "30! That's unfair." And I remember his wicked smile when he said "You're right. Let's make it 40. I don't want you to be disappointed." Well, soon I was over Master's lap, my pants down, and feeling his whacks one after the other. Every ten whacks or so, he'd either thumb poke my hole, or he'd reach under and get the guiche and just gently tease it. "Maybe we'll get a second orgasm out of you, boy, because I think I may dump two loads in you tonight and that way we'll be equal." I thought it would happen too, because the combination of his spanking, the guiche play and his thumb going in my ass were driving me more than a little crazy. I could feel Master getting harder and harder too. Finally, when he finished, he said to me "get naked and on the bed. Just your wrists tonight. I want frog position." "Frog position" is when I bend my knees and keep my legs akimbo, so I look a little like a frog about to jump. When I was naked, and then Master was naked, he ran a hand up and down my torso and belly. He dropped his voice. "Who owns this hot boy?
I gulped "You do, Master." And he continued: "And what can I do with it, boy?" "Anything you want, Sir." "That's right. And what I want to do now, is fuck you. And fuck you hard." Well, I could feel myself getting aroused again but what I felt more, was scared. I'm used to Master's dick getting as hard as steel and growing. But that night, it was FAT, too. Fat and red. I couldn't remember ever having taken his dick when it was that thick. I screamed when he was in me. "OH GOD, MASTER YOU'RE TOO BIG. I CAN'T TAKE IT." He smiled and said, simply "deal with it," and started sliding in. "And if you keep screaming, I'll get something to shut you up." "Yes Master," I whimpered, and I fought as hard as I could to keep my screams down. Master likes gagging me: he likes duct tape and I like the penis gags. When I'm in trouble, I get the ball gag because I STILL find my spittle gross. I like it better when he kisses me though: deep down my throat like he's digging a big hole. That's what he wanted to do that night, and if I made too much noise, he wouldn't. "Take my tongue, boy. That's gonna gag you." It did. It felt so good I almost didn't feel the guided missile that he was sending up my ass. At a few points, he'd just barely touch the guiche and I'd nearly scream, because it was still fairly new, and it was very, VERY intense. I knew he was tightening his glutes too, to make his dick feel even bigger and thicker. I had never experienced something like that, and I was worried that I was REALLY going to hurt the next day. But the more time I spend with Master, the more I learn that he REALLY knows what he was doing. He heard my moans, and he knew what I was feeling so, instead of sliding back and forth, which would have REALLY tested me, he stopped. He just perched himself on top of me and when he was finished with the thorough Frenching, he moved down to my nipples. "I don't want these to feel neglected, since I've concentrated on your guiche so much, boy. I still want these nice and sensitive." They were. I moaned even more. The feeling I got when he played with the guiche was very different from the feeling I got when he worked my tits, but they were both really, REALLY intense. Then something happened. I was looking at Master, and I was moaning and whining, and I saw tears forming in his eyes. "Sir, is something wrong?" I asked and he smiled. "No, seb. Nothing's wrong at all. Everything's perfect." I saw him gulp. "I love you, seb." When I answered, "I love you too, Master," he yowled and then I felt his load fill me. I couldn't believe how much came out. Usually, I can hold it all but that night, no, I couldn't. It spilled out of me. He laughed and said, "I guess you'll have to change the sheets before we turn in," I remember that I said, "We could sleep in it, Master," but I knew that wasn't going to happen. So he untied me, and I got clean bed linens, and remade the bed. When we did get in, with me nestled in our spooning position, and Master's hand firmly on my left nipple, he began to toy with it. There was no question: if I didn't pay attention, I was gonna cum again. The way we were positioned, he couldn't see my face. If he did, Master would've known that now I was the one with tears in my eyes. Folks, if you had told me a year ago that I was going to fall, head over heels in love with a totally dominant, grey haired, hairy daddy who had a blue-collar job and preferred to wear wife-beater t shirts and torn jeans, and watch wrestling matches on television, I would've called you crazy. And yet, here I was.
"Well, Tony, I don't know why we're having this conversation. Dom is in charge, and he said you were getting the piercing, so what's to discuss?" That's what russ said to me when I called him to set up our next threesome. Master was particularly fond of spit roasts, but he'd throw some more stuff in. When russ came over, he'd get Master nice and hard by blowing him while I fucked his ass. Then, when we were finished with that, I'd blow russ while Master fucked me. We'd do something like that about once every other week. Russ REALLY wanted to get fucked by Master, but that was a line that I was going to draw in the sand, and I was going to fight for it: NO ONE got Master's dick but me, just like no one got my ass but him. So after russ had asked if it could happen, and I told him no, he asked if he could at least see the guiche when he was over. "I'll have to ask Master, but I guess if he says you should see it, you should see it. Like you said, it's HIS call." "True story," was what russ answered. "You know, I may not be the one to talk to about this and how you feel, because I don't have one. He laughed and made what he thought was a silly suggestion. "Hey, there's an online support group for everything. Why don't you check to see if there's one for people like you?" The man was brilliant. Now I knew why he did such advanced engineering stuff. You talk to an engineer, and you'll hear something along the lines of "other scientists make problems, we figure out solutions." I thought I'd give it a try and, in less than half an hour, I did find an online support group and I actually discovered that two of the subs that I saw occasionally at the club, were in it. Next time we went, I was going to see if either of them were around, and then talk with them about it, if I could. Of course, talking to ANY man at the club without Master being around required his approval, but he gave it very readily when it was clear that it was just, as he put it "sub chat." And it happened. Pete and Graham were both at the club the next time we went. I had emailed them from the chat group, and we had agreed to try to talk. "Master, would it be ok if I chatted a little with those guys?" I pointed to Pete and Graham, who were both wearing collars and bands on their right arms, just like me. "Well, I don't remember you hanging with them before, boy. Why are you interested?" Master is possessive: VERY possessive (you know that already), and he's made very clear that he doesn't want to risk losing me either to another DOM or for my "Top Man boots" to get worn too often. I've told him a million times that he had nothing to worry about, and he didn't. "Gimme a kiss, boy. A REAL kiss. In front of everyone. That way everyone knows where to return you if you get lost." Master shoved his tongue down my mouth and my cock banged against the cage. We NEVER went to the club if I wasn't in chastity, and Master just LOVED to kiss me in public like that. He felt it kept me in my place relative to everyone else. As he put it once: "people need to know that you belong underneath me, and that's where you're going." (What he didn't tell me, that sneak, was that he knew about Peter and Graham, and had discussed the pros and cons of putting in the guiche with their Masters before he got me pierced. To this day, it astounds me how easily Master outsmarts me when it comes to sexual stuff. For example, he told you about the gym, and the truth was, if we went one on one, I could take Master now. That is, if he didn't know about my Achilles' heels, and how to get to them. And he did. But I digress). The thing is, Master DID know about my weaknesses. He knew about all of them. He keeps me in line by using them. I'll tell you about one that happened just about the time of the piercing. We had gone to bed and when I spooned into Master, he threw one of his legs over mine. He did that occasionally, but usually in the morning when he wanted to stay in bed on the weekends. Master's legs are strong. He was holding me in place and then, I felt him form the pincer with his thumb and forefinger using the hand he rested on my left nip. He didn't say anything at first, he just sort of lightly began passing it over that sensitive spot. Now, I was tired that night, and while I knew, and know, that my mood doesn't matter, it was difficult to keep that in mind as Master toyed with me. He didn't squeeze my nipple at that point, but I did feel his breath on my ear, just as he whispered: "you're turning into a beast, boy. Look at all those muscles." I wanted to say thank you, but those strokes were getting to me, and I just began making soft, little moans. At this point, it had become automatic: Master worked my nip, I pushed my butt into his crotch. He was hard: Master is almost ALWAYS hard unless it's less than an hour after he's shot a load. "Strong as an ox, but as easy to control as a kitten, huh sebby?" I moaned some more. "Only by you, Master. Only by you." I pushed back harder. "Master, do you want me to stop bulking up at the gym? "Now he squeezed that nipple. "Heh, heh. Nah., I like having this big muscle boi at my command. You understand that sebby?" Now, his other hand was cradling my balls. He wasn't doing anything, just holding them, as if to let me know they belonged to him. "Yes, Master. I understand that. I belong to you." Then he surprised me: Master chicken winged me, and I was on my back. "I want my boy's ass. I want it right now." THIS was unusual. I couldn't remember the last time we had a bedtime fuck, but I hadn't gotten so roused there was no question in my mind: I wanted it. "How do you want me, Master? On my back? My belly?" "Your back. I wanna see your face as I slam into you. And I got something we're gonna use tonight too." He reached over and I saw him pick up a new dildo. I tried to hide my smile: it was a molded one: shaped to Master's cock. I didn't know when he got it but now, he slid it into my mouth. "Now, you can feel like I'm fucking you at both ends." The combination made me so hard. I was hoping that when Master finished, he'd let me cum. That didn't happen that night, and it didn't happen for about four nights after that. Instead, he locked me up after he had squeezed my balls until my woody went down, and then he played one of his new favorite games: he reached between my legs, and he put his fingertip under the guiche. He'd gently lift it up, then let it fall. Over and over. He grinned and laughed as I moaned. "See, boy? Just when you think I've learned every single way there is to keep you in line, I'll find another one. Or I'll invent one." He twisted the guiche gently. "You're gonna stay as the sub forever. That's your life from now on." I gulped. This is the kind of thing you don't think about: I mean, I never thought "Oh, Master will get over his domination phase," or "One day, we'll go versatile," or anything like that, but I had never thought about things like "from now on." We had never talked about permanent or anything like that. Master and I had been together long enough that I should have been picking up hints from what he was saying. I didn't. Maybe it was better because, well, it made what happened so much better. One Friday morning, as Master was getting up and going to work, he bent down and kissed me. "Boy, we're going out to eat tonight. I'll get cleaned up. Keep that in mind when you come home." I returned his kiss: "Yes, Master." We ate out a lot, but this was the first time he had said we needed to look pretty -- I know, he didn't say that, but it's close enough -- and he used to tell me I looked "real pretty" when I got dressed. He was already dressed when I came home, and he MEANT it. Master was wearing one of my old white dress shirts, but he only had two buttons open, and he was wearing a jacket. And good slacks. Now, I had spent the whole day thinking about how we were going to have a romantic evening out, and that had aroused me a little -- ok, it had aroused me a LOT -- but now, seeing my man looking so damn hot -- I was ready to explode. I had thoughts about what I was going to change into, but now I had to rethink them. Better yet... "Master, what would you like me to wear?" I stood at the doorway to the bedroom. I had stripped down, so all I had on was my thong, and my socks. Master smiled: he knew I was teasing him. "Looks like you're gonna need a shaving sooner than I thought, boy," was what he said first, but then he thought for a minute. "You remember how you dressed the first time we met?" "Yes, Master. Of course I do." I smiled, because it was true and what I then said was true: "I could never forget that day." "Then doll up along those lines. "I picked out what I had that was closest to what I remembered, and Master was pleased. He pinned me against the wall. "There's gonna be some hot sex when we come home tonight, boy. I'll even unlock you but let me tell you know: the locking is gonna be almost continuous from now on." I hated not having any control over my cock but again, that's what I had agreed to. "Yes, Master. If that's what Master wants. "He smiled. "Let's go. I called a car, and I made a reservation." When we got out of the building, I looked for a standard town car. "Here's our ride, boy." My mouth dropped. I began to get a sense for what was happening as the limo pulled up. Master opened the door: he always did that for me. "Thank you, Master," I said, and the driver pulled away after Master got in. I didn't know where we were going, and I didn't ask because, well, if Master wanted me to know, he would have told me. Master surprised me again. The limo pulled up in front of the club we always went to. I was surprised, and confused, but I knew that if there were people there who knew us, I was expected to do certain things. I put my hands behind my back and dropped my head. Just before I did, though, I could see that most of "the regulars" were there, including russ. No one was wearing leather, though. Everyone was "pretty." "C'mere boy" Master took my bicep and led me to the center of the club. He looked at me and kissed me. No tongue, just a big, big kiss. Then, you probably have this figured out, he got down on one knee in front of me and opened a box: "Anthony Sebastian, will you marry me?" I began to cry. I did NOT expect this, even though I had been thinking about it since that bedtime fuck we had. But I had no doubts about my answer. "YES MASTER. I WOULD BE HONORED TO BE YOUR HUSBAND. Your sub husband," my voice dropped. He took my hand and slipped on the ring: it had a ruby in the center of it, and I have to be honest: I couldn't keep my eyes off it, even as Master was saying "In front of all of you, I CLAIM this man as my own. My sub, my property, but most important, my husband. He already has one of my rings and as of today, he has two." Then, he gave me the most passionate kiss he had ever given me, and I thought I'd faint. "You want to get something to eat, sexy?" Master whispered into my ear. "I'm thinking sausage, Master," I whispered back, and he laughed. "That's dessert. The limo is still outside. Let's go." I remember where we went, and that's about it. But I DO remember the love making back home. Yes, I got my sausage. In my mouth, in my butt. And I fell asleep smiling, up against my Master's chest, after I had finished my "dinner" by washing his pits with my tongue. Well, that's all I'm gonna tell now, guys. If you wanna know more, Master promised to write, but he's not writing unless you ask. So, go for it. I'll just say: we had a wonderful wedding and an even better honeymoon.