House of Drake: The Initiation, Part 1 – The Cross of Ares
There I was, bound and on my knees in front of Master Drake, staring at the leather chaps he was wearing - the ones he always wore with the blue stripe down the sides that disappeared into his Wesco 16" black leather boots – the boots I'd polished with, and without, my tongue. I so loved to worship those boots along with every other pair he had. He always wore his matching blue striped jockstrap with them along with a pair of black gauntlets with the blue piping, gloves, and armbands with blue trim over his well-rounded biceps. Master Drake was versatile, and would gladly submit to another alpha dom. He respected their power and authority the way I respected his over me. It wasn't toxic masculinity – it was pure, hot, male energy. And we were here tonight in the circle where we would worship and pay sexual homage to those in the Greek pantheon that He felt attunement with – Ares, Apollo, Dionysus, Eros, and Hades.
That's also what he called the dungeon – Hades, and the cell, the one I spent a few agonizing nights in – well that was Tartarus. Master Drake was lord of this domain, and I was his disciple. I want to be his apostle too. Make my yours Sir! Take me into your arms and put your seed in me and claim me. I'll carry your word far and loud and fight anyone who should dishonor it! You've transformed my mind and body. Big and strong now, I am one of your guard dogs – one of the three heads of your beloved pet Cerberus.
My cock strained in the Holy Trainer I had been locked in the past three months, as I continued to kneel there and look up at my Master. The posture collar around my neck made it difficult to see much else – not that I wanted to. As I said, Master was my god and how could I look at anything but my future. He was illuminated by candlelight that encircled us and made his incredible chest that much more pronounced with the bull dog harness – another favorite with more blue trim. Blue was his color both in general and because he liked to fuck – whenever and wherever. He was a sadist, but more in a mental way than physical. That's why the initiation was designed this was - as a symbolic ritual to the gods and the Underworld. That's where we operated, under the surface of normal humanity.
As part of the ritual, he wore a black cloak with a hood over the leather gear. It was so incredibly hot - mixing together some of my favorite elements of leather and occult and a ritual like hazing. It was dark and perverted, just as my mind was. That's what I was told by others who feared and didn't understand. The ritual was all symbolic and designed to make us feel like part of something real. A real place, a real family where we could feel safe to play. It is all of that and more; nothing could be more real to me.
When I first read his profile, I was both scared and intrigued. It was intense and detailed, talking about things I wanted to experience, but had been too frightened or sheltered in the past. Now, I was finally out of my boring relationship and filled with my strengthened desire to submit to a real man. Could I be all that He required? Would I be able to handle this as my new life? There was only one way to find out.
When we met, I found a Master who was not scary at all. Intense yes. He could look at you and send a shiver down your spine when you fucked up or he could make you feel safe with a warm smile. He was strict and demanding, but loving and fatherly. He was everything I wanted to submit to, and he accepted me. He trained me, helped me get my body in shape, and to push at work and school. I wanted to serve him and showed up when others flaked. I was determined. I was progressing in my training and Master was taking notice of me. I was happier in life than ever. Now it's time to make it official. I looked up into his eyes, under the hood of the cloak, and heard him say, "are you ready, boy?"
"YES, SIR!" I eagerly announced. My excitement caused him to smirk. My eagerness always pleased him because it meant he could push me. I never broke though. For the past 3 months, I had spent I don't know how many nights bound in various positions, gagged, and blindfolded with hypno files playing in my ear. Master Drake enjoyed the mental domination and worship, and he owned my mind and body. With this ceremony, he would own my soul.
The initiation was designed to claim it, to give myself over in worship and dedication to Him. I didn't need any other; I needed only Him. I wanted Him, His cock, and His gloved hand to honor me with its touch; and it did! My cock jumped again and my body flexed, pulling at the chains that held my restraints in place. I was ready for it to begin.
He stepped back a few feet and sat on the throne. The Throne of Lord Hades, and like the one of the mythological god, this one was also made of ebony, but the arm rest had carved in it the faces of Cerberus. He snapped his fingers and pointed at his boots. I hurried over and lowered my head to his boot. My forehead resting on the toe of it. I can smell the leather and my tongue waters. I await his order and I feel like my dick is going to burst through this chastity device like He-Man through a set of chains! Master made sure I didn't even have a ruined orgasm or any sort of release the last 30 days in preparation, and I would do anything he wanted.
"Begin!"
I lifted my head off of his glorious boot and began washing it with my saliva. Long, slow strokes – that's how he trained me to show my devotion, my absolute dedication to Him and His boots. I would worship anything that was His – His cock, His body, His paddle.
"Thank you, Sir!" I managed to mutter a few times between licks. He didn't say a word. I worked His boots harder with my tongue and thanked Him more. His silence was just as authoritative as His commands. Longer, harder licks. I worked myself into a frenzy and lost myself in His boot. I was one with the boot and had put my whole body into the worship of it. I needed to please Him. I needed to worship. I needed to hear it. Please, just say it, Master! Am I not doing a good job? Am I not worshiping hard enough? Please, My Lord, please. Have you forsaken me already?
I don't know what I did, or how hard I licked or how long the strokes were anymore. I didn't think I had anymore of myself to give, and then I finally heard those words, "good boy!"
Oh Lord Hades, yes! "Thank you, Sir!" I repeated a few more times and reveled in the knowledge that I had pleased my Master. My reveling was short, however, as His command to move to the other boot came next, and I gladly repeated the cycle.
The candles made the room so warm and my eager worship of Lord Master Drake's boots caused the sweat to build up on my head and drip on his boots. My sweat and even tears are literally worked into his boots. I no longer knew how long it had been and I didn't care. I disappointed when he told me to stop.
He guided my head to his crotch and buried my face in it. I had barely caught my breath when I was forced to take in nothing but his scent. Glorious! The musk of his balls mixed with the leather. It was the elixir of my God and I drank in the scent. My body was redesigned to react to his scent. It made me want to worship that cock even more. Why wouldn't he allow me to service Him already? All these whys and I had to remind myself that it was because He was the one who decided when. I would kneel there for 1000 years if that's how long it took for Him to let me touch it.
He undid his cloak and stood, then turned to face the St Andrews Cross. I stood at his direction and moved with him towards it. He tied me to it with my backside exposed and my slave-heart pounded in my chest. I'd taken Master's punishments before, but was by no means a pain pig; and this was going to be more intense any before.
"This is the Cross of Ares," he explained. His hands caressed my body as He continued softly, "Ares: God of War, as he's commonly known, but also the god of courage and manliness. The Order of the Temple of Hades accepts into it only the strong and the brave. Do you invoke the courage of the god and have the will to face him - to face the fear, boy? Will you invoke the qualities of this god as you face the challenges of life and duties as my slave?"
"Yes, Lord Master!"
His hands wrapped all the way around me and his body pressed into mine as he told me I was a good boy. He was proud. He kissed my neck and put me at ease. He nibbled my ear a bit right before letting go and retrieving the first instrument of my pain. I didn't know which he would start with, but I was ready to face it. Whack! The first blow thundered in, and I recognized the sting of the flogger. I jumped. It wasn't that bad, but it was only the start. The battle went on for a while, and Master was unrelenting. First a flogger, then a paddle, then a crop, and finally a cane. My ass really got worked over by the paddle and crop. Tears were forming, but I could take it. I would release the emotions, and bravely take it! One use of the safeword, and the initiation would end. I certainly didn't want that.
The last blow came and I let out a final scream. Then Master was back at my side and his hands were comforting me. "You have fought bravely, my boy. You've met Ares on the battlefield and faced him. Congratulations."
I thanked him as he released me from the cross. He held me some more as I caught my breath and released more pent up emotions. It was like I was crying for all those nights I wasn't in his arms – those nights I didn't have a purpose. Now, I found my place to belong. Lord Hades has smiled upon me and taken me from the daylight world of stress and work down into his dark, underground – where He reigns and I gladly worshiped. However, my initiation was far from over.