Later on, while I'm on my knees between his legs and sucking his cock the way he instructs me to—lots of tongue, tight mouth when coming up off his dick, never let the head slip out of my mouth or I'll feel his strap on my back---he talks to me in ways that make me understand even more about what it means to be a slave to a Dom like him:
"Look at yourself, Mikey. On your knees, naked except for the slave collar around your neck and the cage locking up your dick. You're sucking a Dom's cock the way he coaches you to do it. Don't forget that every Dom likes it a different way. Make sure you learn how we want you to suck our dicks. And notice something else, Mikey, my boi. You're sucking my cock exactly the way I want you to, and you're gonna make me cum in your mouth. And while you swallow my cum and let it slide down into your stomach, remember that I've locked up your dick. Your purpose is to make my cock feel good, as good as you can, but your useless dick gets no attention at all. You don't have the right to touch it, to play with it, and you definitely will never get to cum when you want, but only once in a while when we decide to allow it."
"Your dick belongs to the Mastesr, Mikey. A good slave learns that it rarely needs to cum; in fact, a good slave never wants to cum any more. A good slave gives up the right for that to happen. A good slave gets its pleasure from the Master's orgasm and from drinking the Master's cum. The only thing a good slave can do is leak precum sometimes and leak piss down into the toilet through the bottom of its cage."
That last statement floors me. I stop moving my mouth, mesmerized by what he just said. THWACK! His strap crashes down on my back right next to the last place he hit me. Part of it lands on the earlier welt and the pain is at least five times worse. "Get back down on my cock, faggot. I don't want to hear you react to the pain. Use your mouth to do what I told you to do. Otherwise I'll flog every inch of skin on that back of yours. Swallow my dick as you swallow your right to cry out because I just hurt you. If you hadn't started goofing off I never would have had to whip you. You have nobody to blame for it by yourself, faggot. Now pay attention to my cock, slave, or I'll hit you again and harder this time."
And so I melt and suck Danny's cock until there are tears in my eyes. "You cryin', baby?" he asks me. I try to nod without interrupting the blow job. "that's good, you cryin' for me. I like it you're tryin' so hard it's makin' you cry. Slavebois like you should cry a lot for your Masters."
He tells me to stop, finally. He lays me back on the bed. I reach up to wipe my eyes but he stops me. "Don't touch that face, boi. I want a pic of the tears on your face. I want everyone to know I make the slave cry for me."
I want to object, afraid he's going to blow my cover for once and for all. "Surrender. Dorothy, surrender," I say to myself trying to block off any resistance. He fucking owns me. He locked up my dick and then plundered my mouth with his own cock. He turned me into his urinal. I have no right to any secrecy, I guess. He doesn't care about that. But dammit, he's graduating at the end of this year. I'll have to live out all four years as a faggot slut who likes to submit to tough men, and everyone knows it.
"I'm only showing your eyes and your tear-stained cheeks, faggot. Nothing to worry about. I have no intentions of blowing your cover to the entire campus. That would be stupid. So many guys would be going after you that I'd have to book an appointment weeks in advance," he chuckles out.
"And I'm not kidding, boi. Most upperclassmen find out along the way that it's worth it getting sucked off by a fag. It doesn't make them queer. I just shows they have high standards when it comes to blow jobs. No one sucks dick better than a boy whore starving for cock. A boi like you, Mikey. Cock addict. Cock sucker. Get your mouth over my dick again and start sucking. I'm gonna lash you again with my strap, Mikey. I want you to make sure you just keep on sucking me. Don't react to the pain. Just take it because you're a faggot slave who deserves to be whipped."
THWACK!!!!
I try. I really try. But fuck it hurts so much. And as soon as his strap lands on my back he thrusts himself all the way down my throat and I can't even make a sound. More tears flow. "that's better, Mikey," he says, then pulls out a bit so he can shoot his load into my mouth so I can taste it.
"Roll my cum around in your mouth, faggot. Convince yourself how delicious my load is, how much you want more of it. Go suck off other guys this week. Find out that my cum tastes the best." He grabs his dick with his hand and milks it so the last few drops of his cum appear at the tip of his dick. "Lick it up, faggot," he tells me, "then clean me off with that mouth of yours."
He makes me feel so fucking dirty but it turns me on like crazy. Damn, this is where I belong—at the head of any guy's cock, licking it clean after it fucks my mouth.
"Stand up, Mikey. Go stand by the wall over there. Put your hands against the wall and stand still. You've got some awesome marks on your back from my strap, boy. I want a pic, evidence that you were whipped by a Master."
He snaps the pic then emails it to me so I can look at it until I want more marks like that all over my body. This scares the daylights out of me. I want to quit him. Too fucking much. Too much. I look around for my pants and go to put them on.
"What the fuck are you doing, boy?"
"I want to go back to my dorm. I don't want to do anything else now. Please take the cage off me."
"I told you I'd take it off tomorrow morning. If you leave now you'll just have to stay caged."
"Oh come on, man. Get this fucking thing off me!" I'm getting angry. Frustrated. And a little frightened of him now. He's becoming more like Scott. Too tough. I don't want to be his slave. No. No more.
He goes and stands there. He folds his arms. He just looks at me. Damn, his eyes are so awesome, so bright. Irresistible. I stand there and can't keep my eyes off him. His pants are down around his ankles. His cock isn't hard any more. It hangs there, jutting out from his body. It looks so appealing, so juicy. So perfect.
I realize I'm not clenching my hands any more in anger. Still he sits there, silently watching me. I wish he'd pull his pants up. Suddenly I realize that he's waiting for me to pull them up like a good slave. But I'm not his slave any longer. I just put an end to it.
I start arguing with myself. Do I really want to give this up? My life was so boring before all this stated happening. Who am I, anyway? Do I have a choice about how to live my life? Has anything else ever turned me on as much as I've been turned on by him, by the things he's been saying to me, by the way he treats me? So what if he hits me: I guess I deserve it. But no: I don't deserve to get hit. But yes: if I'm his slave, he can hit me whenever he wants, wherever he wants. Sure it hurt, but fuck, so what? So I got angry for a while. So what?
I look at him. He hasn't moved. He's just watching. Shit, I know what he's doing: he's waiting for me to realize how much I remember that my role is to submit to superior men like him. He's just waiting for me to come to my senses. He's waiting for me to accept reality---the reality that I'm meant to be a slave, the reality that he's training me better than anyone else.
Come on, Mikey, I say to myself. I realize I shouldn't be standing, that it feels weird for me to be standing here facing him. Fuck. I don't have the right to be standing. I should be down there on the floor. I close my eyes for a few seconds and take a deep breath. Come on, Mikey, show him what you are. Don't let pride fuck this up because you might never find someone else who will get you and understand what you need.
And so, first I lower my eyes. Then I kneel down. Shit, it feels right for me to be on my knees before him. I get down on all fours and crawl over to him and I start trembling. My dick strains against the cage trying to get hard. My dick knows what I refuse to accept. My dick knows it's the dick of a slave and that's why it's locked up. I lower my head to the ground and grovel before him. I feel the collar around my neck. I stay there motionless, letting go, getting ready for whatever he wants from me. Getting ready to obey the Master.
"Be a good boy and pull my pants up, Mikey." He acts like nothing unusual just happened. For me, it's like I just crossed a line and accepted my lot. I reach out and pull his pants up until finally he takes over getting himself together again.
"Go crawl into the bathroom and get in the tub. You need a shower. You've been sweating a lot."
I get down again and do what he just told me to do. He's gonna let me shower. This is great.
At least it was great until he turned on the water. Cold water. I shiver under it. "Cold water washes away the heat of a boy's resistance to the inevitable, Mikey. Do you understand that you're meant to be some man's slave?"
"Yes, Master," I say, trembling from the cold. He turns the dial again and the water warms up. He tosses me a bar of soap. "Wash yourself, Mikey. Do a good job. I want to take you to a party."
Oh wow. Quickly I scrub myself everywhere. Get my head under the water. He pours shampoo on my hair and starts washing it himself, not caring that he's getting his shirt wet leaning over to scrub my scalp. Damn, it does something to me when he has his hands on my head. Just like before. I feel owned. I hope I've learned my lesson for once and for all.
He has me put my jeans on but no underpants. He gives me one of his shirts. A yellow one. It's too big for me but he wants me this way and I'm just gonna go along with anything he wants.
He gets his keys. "come on, boy. Downstairs and out to the car."
I hesitate. Still barefoot. I look around for my sneakers.
"Forget the sneakers. I want you barefoot. It will help you realize how inferior you are to the guys you meet at the party. You are inferior to regular men, Mikey. It's good that you dress the part."
As he's driving us to wherever we're going, he give me little pieces of advice. "We're going to a frat party at Esterbrook College, about forty minutes from here. It's a mixed frat with a lot of gay guys and the party is men only. They hold it once a month. Some of the guys there will realize you're in a slave collar. They'll know it's okay to grope you, so they'll find out you're caged as well."
More advice: "You don't have to keep your eyes lowered, but if anyone catches you staring at him, he'll see it as an open invitation to do whatever he wants to you. If anyone orders you to follow him, do what he says. If he tells you to strip, so do. You'll have a good time, I'm sure, faggot. Lots of cocks for you to slobber over."
No limit to drinking, but he tells me that if I get drunk he'll let them gang-rape me. Don't think I'm ready for something like that, so maybe I'll have just enough to help me relax. Or so I think. When we finally get to the house where the party is, Danny gives me an edible to consume. Better think twice about drinking until I find out how it will affect me.
So that's all for now. Hope you like how it's developing. My name's Greg. ogt009966@gmail.com Write me any time, please?
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