By Master Red
Disclaimer: This story contains explicit sexual interaction between men, all of which are consensual and of legal age. All names and some of the descriptions, attributes or characteristics of individuals have been changed or altered to protect the identity and privacy of actual people or person(s) encountered.
You need to be of legal age in your jurisdiction to read this story.
Copyright 2014 Nuttnhoney. This story -- in whole or part -- are property of the author and may not be copied and reposted, published or used in part without written permission of the author. Nuttnhoney reserves all rights to the story written herein.
Comments, suggestions, critiques both pro and con are encouraged, welcomed and appreciated, please send to: mrnuttnhoney@gmail.com
Boris: Part 2
"Boris followed orders and was very obedient", I thought to myself as I looked down at the top of his bowed head.
His previous master had trained him well.
I nodded my consent, lifted my aviators to rest on the top of my head and settled back in my chair to get an un-shaded view of him taking my outstretched booted leg into his hands, holding it by the back of the knee with one hand and by the heel of the boot with the other, as delicately as if it were something precious to be admired, like a Faberge egg.
He showed his adoration by slowly and intently licking my boot from the top to the side, dragging his tongue to the middle, licking the laces entwined through the grommets all the way down to the steel plated tip, first one boot then the other.
His eyes were closed as he went about his work, the hungry expression on his face looked as if each taste of old leather was nectar from heaven and when he finished he looked up at me as if I were his god.
I rewarded him by pulling my rapidly swelling dick through the fly of my boxers, letting him see that his service was turning me on but shook my head to let him know it was not time to touch or taste.
As I stroked my meat our eyes locked. I could see the surrender and hunger in his, which fed my sense of power and domination over him.
"Feet", I commanded.
He removed my boots and socks with reverence and repeated his tongue bath on my naked feet and ankles. He continued his work with a renewed sense of purpose and savored every new taste and smell.
As he was drawing his large, moist tongue over the surface of my left foot I took the right and pushed it against his crotch, the herringbone fabric of his expensive suit stretched tight. I could feel the heat rise from underneath.
After he had performed to my satisfaction I ordered him to stand and undress, to shed his "Master of the Universe" suit, the custom made shirt and silk tie.
Quickly and gracefully he was soon standing in front of me wearing only the black leather harness and jockstrap.
His smooth muscled body was already covered in a fine mist of sweat, and his hardon had pushed itself from the confines of the tight, constricting pouch of the jock and was pointing straight out.
He stood there, anxious to please; nervous and excited, not knowing what was next.
I sat across for him stroking my meat, now filled out to its full nine and half inches, heavy with desire to be deep inside so much muscle and power.
I looked at this magnificent specimen of a man till I feared I would cum so I stopped myself and stood up.
I led Boris to my bedroom and told him to stand at the foot of the bed and turn around facing away for me.
"Lean over", I commanded, "Hold onto the edge of the bed with your hands, spread your legs wide and present your manpussy for inspection!"
I pulled my boxers off and positioned myself behind him as I stood and watched him silently comply.
Now I was as naked as he but I had yet to strip him bare.
Gazing down at his muscular legs and full phatt ass I could not help but appreciate what was being offered to me.
I stroked his ass-cheeks in admiration then spread them apart with my hands, moving the black straps of his jock aside so that I could gain better access to his bunghole.
I reached between his legs to feel the empty pouch that had long ago lost the battle of containing his erection, which had escaped earlier and was now pointing down toward the bed, dripping pre-cum onto the towel.
I bent down close to his pink pucker to smell him, inhaling his freshness, devoid of the odors associated with the orifices main function.
I ran my tongue up and over the tightly held folds of flesh that made up the entrance to what most men would never dare dream of offering to another man, hearing his first moans of acquiescence.
I licked, nibbled and probed his hole with my tongue. I made it wet and slick with my spit, my own cock throbbing with desire.
I had to fight the urge to possess him.
I wanted to enter deep into his ass and make him mine but there would be plenty of time for that.
I stood up and pulled away before I became completely intoxicated.
I had to remind myself that fucking was secondary when training a potential slave, making sure that the subject was subjugated was paramount.
I had to have complete control of his mind before taking possession of his body.