Feedback welcome to walnutlink68@hotmail.com
<Authoritarian, m/m, high school, feet>
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I have a sort of warning note at the beginning of Chapter 20 regarding the contents of this series.
SERVANT TO A SOCCER STUD CHAPTER 22
The next day. Kyle summoned me over to his house again. He was sitting at his desk doing homework. He had nothing on but a pair of gray sweatpants. He turned around in his swivel chair. His chest was beautiful, his abs carved like Zac Efron's, and his feet were bare with only the toes hitting the floor with the length of the tops of his feet his soles on prominent display.
"Get the fuck over here, faggot. Under the desk." For good measure, Kyle snapped his fingers and pointed to the space under his desk. I crawled on my hands and knees to my usual position ready to face Kyle's magnificent crotch. I stayed on my knees but had to sit on my legs so as not to bang my head against the underside of the desk. It wasn't easy, since the top of my head touched the desk and there was no way to make myself shorter without sitting directly on the floor. However, I dared not get off my knees.
Kyle spun back around, now facing me, and ordered me help him pull his sweatpants off. He was free-balling. What a treat. Kyle in his birthday suit from head to toe (I'll have more to say about birthdays later). Before I had a chance to thoroughly drink in the gorgeous sight, Kyle re-positioned his chair so I was centimeters away from his cock still dangling downward. Then he placed each of his beautiful hairy jock legs over my shoulder, like he was riding a horse. With only a slight clench of those strong legs, Kyle closed the already small gap between my nose and his cock. The masculine warmth and smell were beyond all-consuming.
"Start caressing my cock and balls, Connor. You know how I like it. No tongue action yet. And nothing wet. Just use your nose and lips. And really nuzzle. You know what to do. Convince me just how much you like worshipping me, Connor." Kyle's voice perceptibly changed, still very masculine and deep (because he was a hot, virile stud brimming with testosterone), but almost sweet all of a sudden.
Plus, Kyle calling me "Connor", twice no less, did not go unnoticed. The genius that he was in pushing my buttons, every so often Kyle would show some kindness to me. Kindness from Kyle to me no matter how tiny, especially when it appeared so infrequently in a sea of abuse, made me melt completely in love with Kyle even more, if that were even possible. Here, it was merely calling me by my human name instead of some variant of "faggot" or "dumb fuck" or "shit stain". Other times, it was patting me on the head, ruffling my hair, letting me control the pace of a blowjob, letting me go to town on his feet unrestrained, punching and kicking me less than usual, etc. Kyle knew that I appreciated these moments of kindness from him so, so much that I would redouble my efforts to maximize His pleasure in appreciation.
And that's what I did today. Burrowing my face in Kyle's crotch and rubbing every which way within the narrow confines of the little space I had to work with. No matter. I threw in an ample of amount of lip action, opening my mouth into a small O-shape, then fitting a section of Kyle's growing cock or churning balls into that opening, next maintaining that contact while pulsating my lips anywhere from one to ten times, and finally sucking gently but enthusiastically backwards and making a loud kissing sound while the opening closed. Then repeat over and over and over again. Basically an unending string of deep and passionate kisses without the tongue. And again, I wasn't kissing a girlfriend, boyfriend, or any human mouth. I was kissing my Master's genitals.
And it wasn't just kissing. My nose worked in tandem with my mouth. I sniffed to varying degrees of hardness and length while nuzzling every portion of my face against Kyle's smelly and moist crotch skin. See if you can picture it: my head thrashing about vigorously and noisily into Kyle's hardening cock and low-hanging scrotum, but using the underside of the desk for leverage, moaning and groaning loudly like a bitch in heat while I sniffed and nuzzled and kissed. I wasn't performing a task; I was being myself. My brain wasn't rationally thinking about my service; my heart and dick transported me to a different world where I completely lost myself (but never once allowed my tongue to come out). My face kept grinding and thrusting; my hands gripped the front legs of Kyle's chair. The pressure on my head from the desk was okay because me feeling pain so that Kyle could feel more pleasure was worth it.
Kyle moaned in pleasure. He wasn't doing his homework anymore. His eyes were closed, his body leaning against the back of the chair, and his legs clenching and unclenching depending on what sensation he wanted. You might be asking yourself how much pleasure could I be providing to him when I wasn't allowed to suck or use my tongue. But that's where you're forgetting just how much training I had had by this point. Any mediocre fag could give a decent blowjob. Well, if I was only a "mediocre fag" to Kyle, he would have beat me to a bloody pulp, or dismissed my services outright. No, Kyle had turned me into an A+ fag. Plus, Kyle has always wanted variety. An A+ fag is able to bring its Master close to climax using only nuzzling and dry kisses. And now that Kyle was 17 (he turned 17 in February), his libido was raging more than ever. My face and nose and lips caressing, rubbing, and wiping all over Kyle's crotch was indeed enough to make Kyle rock hard -- and he now was, all 8.5 inches of beauty.
Because 8.5 inches was too long to still fit under the desk, Kyle pushed his chair backwards so that it could point straight up in the air. This also allowed me to emerge from underneath the desk, giving me more space and oxygen to elevate my performance. After ten more minutes, Kyle said, "Good, Connor, good. What would you like to do now, buddy?" I swear he drew out the word "buddy" to make my dick harden and spew out more pre-cum. Such a tease!
With 1,000% sincerity, I replied, "Oh fuck, Master, please for the love of God let me suck your cock. Please let me give you a proper blowjob. I am begging you, Master Kyle, my lord and savior, please let me make sweet, sweet mouth love to your incredible manhood."
"Yeah, buddy? I don't know," Kyle said in a cheerful, sing-songy voice. "Why do you want to do that so bad?"
I huffed coarsely, "Master, you know why. I live and die for your cock. Your cock controls everything that is me. Everything. So I want so badly to show your cock my unconditional, unyielding, unrelenting love, gratitude, and worship. God, please. My mouth was made to be around your cock. Please give me permission to put my mouth where it has always belonged and will forever belong."
That pathetic but utterly sincere speech from me finally seemed to placate Kyle. He grinned broadly. "Ok, Connor, now make Daddy happy." Again, very friendly tone. I leaked more pre.
Then I saw the pearl of pre-cum on Kyle's cock and decided to take a risk. "Oh, but before I begin Master Kyle," I said nervously. "Is there anyway you can let me suck your delicious pre-jizz off the tip of your cock? I really wanna swirl it around every corner of my perverted mouth."
"Ha, you are one greedy homo, aren't ya, Connor? All right. I'm in a generous mood. Go for it."
I began by putting my nose right near the pre-cum and breathing hard, without making contact. While still sniffing, I started planting a few more dry kisses on the shaft of Kyle's cock. He was right; I was being dangerously greedy. Then I slowly put my open mouth around Kyle's cockhead, and for the first time all afternoon, allowed my tongue to join in on the fun. Very gently and savoringly, I licked Kyle's cock tip, and Kyle's delicious juice reached my eagerly awaiting taste buds. Then I momentarily left Kyle's cock, looked straight into his eyes, opened my mouth, and showed him my tongue coating every inch of my mouth with his pre-cum. Kyle chuckled some more.
Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, I mustered every drop of my blowjob-giving skill and energy to smoke Master Kyle's pole. All dry quickly turned into all wet. Every technique applied: suction with just enough pressure I knew Kyle liked, ample tongue action, pulsating lips, and of course, deep throating. Only a few minutes later, with the only warning Kyle breathing and moaning louder and him pulling his cock backwards just enough so his cum would enter my mouth (instead of down my throat immediately), Kyle clamped his hands around my head, fixing it in exactly the place he wanted, then orgasmed into his cum dump, all the while voicing his immense pleasure at a job well done. I knew what this meant. Kyle wanted me to show him his cum in my mouth and not swallowing until he gave permission. Unsurprisingly, this was my favorite thing to do with his cum -- with the sole exception of rubbing his cum from my face to the bottoms of his feet and then eating the foot sweat-laced cum back down my stomach (that was my 100% most favorite thing to do -- maybe out of everything I could do in the world).
So as his climax subsided, and he pushed my head off his cock, I showed Kyle the cum in my mouth and swirled it around and around. The pre-cum was a gift, but the cum was a treasure. You already know. I loved Kyle's cum and always will. A couple minutes more later, Kyle gave me a piercing look though still with a smile on his face, nodded toward me, and I took that to mean he was granting me permission to swallow. And I did, then immediately launched into: "Thank you so much, Master Kyle's cum, for letting me savor you and taste you and swallow you. I love you so much. I am in love with you. I want to marry you. Yes, Master Kyle's cum, I wanna be your wife. I wanna be married to cum if it's you."
I was interrupted by a very, very hard slap to the face -- even for Kyle. "You stupid faggot," Kyle barked as the hard slaps continued, along with slaps upside the head. "Why the fuck did you not thank my cum as soon as it entered your mouth, huh? How is my cum supposed to believe you, you incredibly dumb piece of shit, if you wait so long to thank it?"
I was utterly confused. I had eaten Kyle's cum hundreds of times. Never once had he made me speak while my mouth was still full. That was the whole point of not swallowing immediately. To show Kyle just how obedient and gay I was for his cum that I would keep it saturated in my mouth for as long as Kyle commanded. If I talked with my mouth full, he wouldn't understand what I was saying, and I may spill some of the precious juice. It was an impossible demand he was making on me now, but...what could I do?
I tried to apologize, but Kyle wasn't letting me. He kept slapping me and yelling at me, then started kicking my bruised body with his sexy bare feet that I still wanted to kiss even as it was kicking me hard. "Don't fuckin' talk, you stupid cunt," Kyle cursed in between his various ways of beating me. "I wanted you to look and sound like a dumbass retard while you tried to thank my cum while it was still in your mouth. That would have been entertaining for me. But you, you gay fuck, you deprived me of that! Ugh, I wanna fuckin' mess you up."
Being nice, gone. Calling me by my human name, gone. All that "kindness" Kyle had shown me only minutes earlier was gone. Afterwards, I would think about it and would conclude that Kyle had, yet again, planned this this whole time. He deliberately was nice, and then purposely found an excuse to switch back to ultra cruel. He wanted to remind me that I needed to cater to his every whim -- be super appreciative when he was nice to me, and super apologetic when he was being mean. And what confirmed it for me was that I knew he wasn't really angry. He was smiling the whole time, and even seemed to be holding back laughter while he was screaming at me and punching me.
It was all the worse because I knew I had given Kyle a great blowjob, from start to finish. I gave him immense pleasure, and his "reward" for me was to treat me like dirt. When Kyle was satisfied with the beatings, he, still completely naked, jumped on his bed against his pillow and ordered, "Get over here, bitch, and make mouth love to my bare feet. God, you are stupid, you shit stain."
Battered and bruised, I nonetheless began by saying to Kyle: "Master Kyle, I am so, so sorry for not thanking your cum sooner. I have learned my lesson. I am so, so sorry. Thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson by beating me. I apologize to your fist and your feet, Master, for having to make contact with my useless head and body. I will never, ever make this mistake again, oh great Master." (Don't worry, when the next time I did exactly what he asked and tried to speak while his cum was still in my mouth, Kyle beat the shit out of me for that. Why? Because I was disrespecting my Master for not speaking to him properly. I did exactly what I thought he was ordering me to do for the next time, and I still paid the price. It was totally arbitrary and completely unfair, and nonetheless it made my dick harder every time.)
"Shut the fuck up, fag. Get started on my feet." Kyle ordered as he started playing on his phone. For the next hour, I lavished oral worship on Kyle's beautiful soles, with Kyle's usual kicks and teases peppered throughout. After Kyle "cleaned" out my mouth by making me drink his piss, he dismissed me from his house.
Oh, and did I mention this all happened on my birthday? That's right, I was born on May 10, 2002. I am sure Kyle knew it was my birthday. A year ago, Kyle and a bunch of friends came over to my house to celebrate, my parents were there, we had a birthday cake, played video games, Kyle even got me a present. Remember, as of May 2018, Kyle knew about Brad and Tommy, but had not yet used Tommy or hatched his plan to own me. So I could still claim Kyle and I were equals -- even though I crushed on him so hard the truth is we never were.
But what a difference a year makes. Not even an illusion of equality survived. No present, no cake, no celebration, not even an acknowledgment from Kyle that it was my birthday. As I said, I am sure Kyle remembered but deliberately pretended not to, but did it even matter? Kyle going out of his way to hurt my feelings didn't make it better. And now that I think about it more, maybe Kyle really did forget. Why would a special day for an object he owns be something he spends one second thinking about?
Either way, my special day became nothing more than another opportunity for Kyle to dominate my mind. Being kind to me for a bit, calling me "Connor", only to completely yank it away on the turn of a dime, abusing me and treating me like a piece of shit for Kyle's own amusement. Even on my birthday, nothing mattered more to me than catering mind, body, and soul to Master Kyle's mood swings. If this was how Kyle was going to deal with me on my birthday, just wait until Pride Month. As I write this, Pride Month is already almost over, and I can't wait to let you know all the creative and sinister ways Kyle took advantage of that and turned Pride Month into a nightmare for me.
TO BE CONTINUED ...