Master and Slave, Chapter 6
After that experience with MASTER and slave David, I was really shaken. It was now obvious that MASTER wanted me to feel like the lowest slave... and he was succeeding. I would start to think I should pull away, that this was not good for me. But then images of slave David getting fucked, or of MASTER tying me to the radiator would flood into my mind, and I was hard immediately. I couldn't help myself, I was jerking off constantly at the humiliation of it all, and also because, by doing what he did, MASTER had just shown himself even more superior to me, and made himself more desirable. What my conscious mind was telling me was one thing, but my emotions were drawing me deeper into this sexual slavery. My emotions won.
Within a few days I was emailing MASTER again, thanking him for
humiliating me in front of slave David, and telling him how much I
needed to see him again. I begged and pleaded for several days with no
answer from him. It was humiliating, it was demeaning, but it was also
the incredibly erotic.
I was under orders never to call MASTER, only he could call me. And he deliberately would call very late, knowing I was asleep, just to show me that I had to be available to him whenever he wanted. I had no say in it. Finally, four days after our last meeting, and after a bunch of groveling emails from me, he called, at 2 a.m. As soon as I got to the phone and saw his name I was hard. When I answered, he just told me he was coming over immediately, and to be ready to start my training as his faggot slave.
I rushed to shower and get ready, and in just a few minutes he was at my place. As usual, I had to leave the door unlocked, so he could just walk right in. When he did, I went immediately on my knees, begging to lick his boots. But he refused, just ordered me upstairs. Of course just seeing him had me already hard, and it was getting to the point where even his refusals made me horny, since they just made me more aware of my need for him, and also of his total control of my emotions.
When we were in my room, he ordered me to strip and get down on my hands and knees. He stayed clothed, and pulled the belt off his pants. Then he belted my ass, hard.
"Thank you, SIR".
"What did you say, faggot? That's not good enough."
"Thank you, SIR, for whipping me. Please SIR, can I have more?"
"Better but still not enough, fag."
I didn't know what he wanted, but he was obviously not pleased. I was desperately anxious to please him, and all I could think of to add, was,
"Thank you, SIR, for whipping me. I love you, MASTER."
And then he smiled. And seeing that smile, knowing that my humiliating, total submission to him was pleasing him, made it all worthwhile. It was such an intense feeling that when I told him I loved him, my voice was shaking, and I really meant it.
And then explained to me that this was the start of my real slave training. He ordered me to always thank him, to beg for everything, not to take anything about him for granted, and finally, every time he punished me, to tell him how much I loved him. He was really fucking my mind now, more deeply than anything I ever experienced before.
So he kept on whipping my ass with his belt, and I kept on yelling out,
"Thank you, SIR, I love you, SIR."
After about 5 minutes, when my ass was nice and red, he grabbed my hair, and brought the belt around in front of my face. And then ordered my to kiss the belt, to make love to it, the treat it like I hoped to treat his cock someday. He just kept associating punishment with me saying that I loved him, and he made me act like I meant it, too. And sure enough, my emotions followed. It was so intense to be demeaned and dominated like this, my cock was so hard, that I started feeling more and more in love with him. So when I said that "I love you" I really felt it.
After a while he put down the belt and starting slapping me with his hand. And then he put his hand in front of my mouth, so I could kiss it, so I could worship and adore the man who was my tormentor. My head was spinning, I was so horny at the way he was mindfucking me. And he knew it. He knew that the second he left I would be jerking off like crazy, obsessing over him, and now, more and more, jerking off to the ideas of punishment and humiliation.
After about ten minutes more of punishment, he finally stopped beating me, and to my own surprise, I was actually disappointed. And I understand that that was what he wanted to teach me, that my need for him and my love for him were inextricably tied to needing humiliation and punishment. He was becoming a god for me.
My ass was stinging, and I was still on my hands and knees. And then ordered me to jerk off and cum in front of him, on the floor. I was so hard, and so turned on by the beating and the mindfuck, that I came practically immediately. Then he ordered me to eat up my own cum off the floor.
He took his belt and put it back on, he waited until I finished licking the cum from the floor, and then he just left me like that. I wanted to lick his boots and thank him, but he deprived me of that too, just to burn my torment in, even deeper. Even licking his boots was honor, only rarely given to me.
(to be continued)