*Note to Reader: This is a retelling of The Dominate Man's Burden (posted on 6/19/24), but from the point-of-view of the sub in that story, Number 1. I appreciate the fan who suggested this idea.
"Get over here, faggot. I need my favorite chair."
"Yes, sir."
I slip in my Master's desk chair. I lay face up with my head and chest on the seat. My lower half slips through the back of the chair where there's a support to rest my bottom and legs. I stick my hands out and ready them to hold my Master's drinks.
He sits down full weight on my chest. Oof is he heavy. I love the feeling of his weight on me. It makes me feel completely under his control. He's so powerful. I feel safe here. This is where I belong. My deep blue eyes stare up at him in awe.
I'm much smaller than he is. I'm 5'5 and about 150 lbs. He can easily pick me up and throw me around, and he does sometimes. I'm not fit. I don't work out. Master prefers me to be wimpy. I'm not muscular, I'm not thin, I'm not overweight. Is that skinny fat? I never quite understood that term.
I don't know his exact height and weight. He never told me and I never asked. But he's a big man. He towers over me. He's tall, muscular, and strong.
His big beautiful cock and balls are on my face. They taste so good. And he smells so good. He didn't shower after his workout. He knows I love that. He's so good to me. My little cock is already leaking and pressing hard against its small metal cage.
He puts full glasses of water in each of my hands.
"Don't spill a drop, boy."
"Yes, sir."
His commands mean everything to me. I don't want to spill a bit of his water. I want to show him what a good boy I am. I love being helpful to him. Master's seat cushion, Master's ball licker, Master's cup holder, I'm so proud to have these titles. They mean far more to mean than anything else I've accomplished in this life.
What are my feelings towards my master? It's definitely not romantic love in any way that I've ever experienced. It's more than that. It's bigger than mere love. I worship him. I'm fascinated by him. I'm entranced by him. He's a god to me. I want him to have everything. I want nothing more than to please him. I would pay any price to give him just one moment of pleasure.
Imagine if a god noticed a worm and made that worm his plaything. That worm would be dumbfounded by its good fortune. "How the hell did I get noticed by a god?," it might think. Well, that's how I feel towards my master. I'm so unworthy of him. To be spat on by him just once in my life is far more attention from him than I deserve.
"Open your mouth as wide as you can, boy."
He sticks his hand down my throat until I start to choke and gag. I don't spill a drop of his water. I'm a good boy.
"God dammit, boy. You made a mess on my hand."
"Sorry, sir."
I'm so disgusting and shameful. How could I make such a mess on my Master's hand? Thank goodness my face is here for him to use to wipe his hand off with. Finally my worthless face has some value.
My master is 26 and I'm 36. We met four years ago. Most assume the older is the dominant one in a relationship. But age is not the determining factor of dominance. Regardless of our ages, he is a man and I'm a boy at best.
Sure, I have some life experience he doesn't have and I know some things he doesn't know. However, he's so much better, smarter, and stronger than me in every way that matters. I recognized this very soon after meeting him, and submitted completely to his will.
He approached me online first. He noticed a slutty picture I had posted of my ass. I have a juicy one. It's this feature of mine that often gets the attention of horny men.
"Nice ass. Would love to use it sometime."
That's all it took. He owned me at that moment. He knew exactly what to say. He always knows exactly what to say to me. It also didn't hurt that he included a picture of his enormous penis. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame.
I'm short, smooth, and have a baby face. I'm usually mistaken for younger. I can't really grow facial hair. After a week of not shaving I would have the most pathetic and wispy mustache/goatee you've ever seen. I have practically no body hair. I'm completely smooth on my chest, stomach, back, and ass. My legs are quite feminine. They have some hair on them. If I shaved them they would look like the legs of a beautiful woman.
My master guessed I was about 24. I was flattered, but told him my real age, and he asked:
"How would you feel to have a younger Dom?"
"I would love it, Sir. How would you feel to have an older sub?"
"It's pathetic for an older male to submit to a younger man in such a way. And for me the more pathetic the hotter."
I've always wanted this type of arrangement. Until I met him, I never met a real Dom before. I met a few fake Doms that bored the shit out of me. I had mostly dated weak males. Some of them I loved. None of them I respected. In reality, I dominated them in conniving, manipulative, and underhanded ways. I was always playing games with guys back then.
My master put an end to that behavior. It was clear who was the boss from the start, and it was such a relief that it wasn't me. He doesn't tolerate my games. He tamed me quickly and stopped my nonsense. I wouldn't dream of playing games with him now.
I'm naturally talkative. It's an annoying habit. I tried to talk to him a lot early on about anything and everything. He's a master of many things, including ignoring me. He only listens to me when I say something that interests him. Otherwise he tunes me out completely. I love that about him. He expertly puts me in my place with both attention and neglect in appropriate measure. He leads our conversations now, just as he leads everything. And I always follow where he leads.
I came to realize that my talkativeness was a symptom of anxiety. I feel less anxious around him. As a result I don't feel the need to constantly talk. I'm more at peace now. Being under his complete control relaxes me. I don't have problems with anxiety anymore. These days I try to only speak when spoken to, unless I have urgent information I feel he needs to know.
His every word is perfectly crafted to mindfuck me in all the best ways. From day one his words flipped a switch in my brain and I instantly became his willing servant. He deserves everything he wants. And it's my job to help him get it. My mind, body, and soul are his to do with as he wishes.
Why am I like this? Why am I so submissive? I don't know. Some subs have daddy issues. I've always had a great relationship with my father. So, that doesn't explain it for me.
I asked him once, "what does it say about me that I'm willing to submit to you so completely?"
"It says you're a faggot," he said.
That instantly put my mind at ease about the whole matter. What some may interpret as an insult, I interpreted as him saying "Don't think about it so much. Just accept what you are and move on." So, I did.
I do know that from my earliest sexual thoughts I longed to be used and abused by powerful men. I wanted the football players in high school to not just bully me but to use me for their sexual gratification too. They only did the first part and that's why I hated them.
He smacks my balls roughly a few times. Oh it hurts. But I love any pain he gives me. And I didn't spill any water.
"Good boy."
I can feel myself blushing. I love when he calls me that.
Master has never crossed my boundaries. I told him from the start: no scat, no blood. He said I was lucky as he wasn't into that either.
I discovered early on a discomfort with the piss drinking. I really wanted to do it, and I never refused to do it, because he loves that service. It wasn't the taste that bothered me. It doesn't really have much taste: warm, a little salty, a little bitter aftertaste. My problem was I still had too much pride. I thought I was too good to be a urinal.
Master used a number of techniques to mentally condition me, which helped me understand what an honor it is to be his piss drinker.
One day he announced: "you're not yet good enough to drink my piss. Privileges must be earned."That upset me greatly. Suddenly I felt a strong desire to prove to him how worthy I was of that honor.
To earn the privilege he made me drink the piss from his then best sub. I had to do that every day for weeks. He watched and laughed as it dribbled through that sub's cage and into my mouth. And that sub would talk down to me, as if I was its sub. It was almost too much for me to bear. I love the insults of my master, but this thing? How dare it talk to me like that.
I hated everything about this. It was so revolting to drink the piss of a low status male. But I had to do a good job of it. I had to appear to enjoy it so that one day I would be rewarded with Master's piss. I suppressed my contempt and revulsion. I obeyed. I was a good boy. And I earned the honor to drink my master's piss. Hardly a day has gone by since then that I haven't served him in that way.
I don't know what happened to that sub. One day it left. And we haven't seen it again. I know that my Master was heartbroken when that happened. And anything that makes him sad makes me sad too.
It was his best boy. From that point on I worked even harder to please my master. To fill the void left by his best boy's absence. I swore to be the most obedient and obsequious servant my Master had ever known.
Soon after I entered my Master's service he demanded chastity. He wanted to put a cage on my cock and for me to give him control of my orgasms. The thought of it excited me immediately, but I was a little hesitant. After about a day of consideration, I agreed wholeheartedly.
I realized it was a perfectly reasonable request as this would make sex completely about him, as it should be. If the possibility of an orgasm was removed for me, then I could fully concentrate on pleasing him. And all I really want is to please him. The only orgasm I need to enjoy sex is his. My orgasm is an unhelpful distraction.
He told me to order a cock cage. The extra small size is what was recommended for my pencil dick. My cock is a little over 5 inches fully erect, about average length for my size. But it's very thin. Not girthy at all. It's cute, dainty, and decorative. It's not a man's penis.
Chastity was challenging at first, but I'm used to it now. And actually I prefer it. I've noticed that it's made me far more controllable and open to suggestions. I'm much more my master's willing servant when I'm horny. Orgasms make me think about myself. I don't want to think about myself. I want to only be thinking of him and his pleasure.
"Open your mouth, boy."
I open wide and he grabs a handful of my light brown hair. Master has a desired hair length. Not too long, but long enough for him to grab a handful when needed. I keep my hair exactly as he requires.
He pulls my head up to his crotch and inserts his penis into my mouth and starts pissing. I can't believe I used to think I was too good for this. Now I understand I'm so fortunate to be allowed to drink it. I'm very good at piss drinking now. I gulp it down quickly to prevent any spillage. Master hates a mess.
"Hold the last bit of piss in your mouth boy and don't swallow it yet."
He writes something on my forehead.
"Open your mouth so I can see that piss."
He's taking a picture. I bet he's going to post this online somewhere. This will get a lot of attention from the faggots. He's so smart. He'll probably get some new subs out of this.
"You may drink the rest now, boy."
I gulp it all down.
"Thank you, sir."
I always thank him for his gifts. And his piss is one of the most precious he can give. Second only to his cum.
I remember the day my master made his proposal for me to become his live-in slave. I agreed immediately. It's all I ever wanted. He told me to keep my job, and to serve him when not working or sleeping.
I hate working and sleeping. Of course I know I have to sleep. But I hate every moment I'm not doing something for him. I'm only truly alive when he's using me. I knew I could not offer him the full-time service he deserves while still having a job. I offered to quit so I could devote more time to him.
But he refused that offer. He's smarter than me. He protects me from myself. He sees potential downsides for me from what I'm willing to do for him and he doesn't let me do it. I would give him all my wealth and possessions. I'd turn over my salary to him. All he needs to do is say the words. But he doesn't want it.
He wants me to continue to earn money and keep my wealth separate from his in the event that our relationship ends and I have to be on my own. He doesn't want me destitute should some calamity befall us. He's not only a great man, he's a decent man. Far more decent than I.
I have no innate morality, only that which my Master orders me to have. It's a good thing for this world that my Master is a better person than I, and doesn't use me for truly nefarious purposes. Because I will do as he commands without question or hesitation. In bondage to him he set me free and gave me the only life I ever wanted. I owe him everything. His will is the guiding force of my life.
After about a year of our arrangement he said to me:
"You are a failure, boy. You're not available 24/7 and I have to do things for myself sometimes. You know I deserve to be serviced whenever I want. And since you have failed to provide that, you must find a solution by the end of this week."
I know he knew what the solution was. And I know he's playing a game with me to make me come up with it. He doesn't play my games, but I happily play his.
A few days later while massaging his feet I said:
"Sir, I believe I have a solution to address my failures. You should bring in at least two additional slaves to live here. They should also have jobs so they can contribute to household expenses. But make sure that the three of us have different work schedules. We'll create a rotation where each one of us is personally available to you eight hours a day. Thus ensuring you are never without service. Each slave will have ten hours a day for work, including commute time, etc. And six hours for sleeping. One or two substitute slaves should be trained as substitutes to fill in when a primary one is sick or has a day off. These substitutes should be required to pay rent for the room and board they receive on the days they are here. As, unlike the permanent slaves, they would not regularly contribute to the household expenses."
He responded with several additional requirements. One of which was that I was responsible for training the other slaves in the non sexual services they would provide. I would be responsible for their fuckups and therefore could discipline them when needed as long as I had no physical contact with them.
I detest these subs. They disgust me. Master is everything, I am nothing, and these creatures rank lower than me which makes them less than nothing. The thought of touching them is revolting to me. I would only do it if my Master ordered me to.
I'm not jealous of them. Like any great man, my master has an endless appetite for sexual partners. And he's entitled to anything he wants. I hate them because they are unworthy of him. They don't appreciate the great honor that has been bestowed upon them.
I caught one of them eating food intended for my Master. I'm very strict about household inventory. There are foods, washing supplies, dishware, etc. that are for Master's use only. The idea that a slave is worthy of eating the same foods as my Master is outrageous. Our food is of lower quality than his, befitting of our status. Everything is clearly marked. This creature knew it was doing wrong, and thought it could get away with it. I put it on food and water rations for a week. It soon learned to appreciate the foods available for it to consume.
I was reviewing Master's video cameras and noticed that the other one dozed off while working the night shift. Master didn't notice as he was asleep. But that is outrageous. A slave must be awake at all times when on their shift with the Master, even if he is sleeping. What if he woke up and needed to piss, needed a drink, or wanted his dick sucked? He shouldn't have to waste time waking up a slave. They should be instantly available at the moment of need. I made it sleep on the cold hard floor for a week. No blanket, no pillow, no nothing.
They accept my punishments because they know that if they complain to my Master, he will have far worse punishments in store for them. Everything I do is with his complete knowledge and approval. I wouldn't dream of doing anything without his full knowledge and approval.
It looks like my Master is finishing his work. He puts his hands around my neck and chokes with all his strength. It feels so good. If I were to die right now I would have no regrets of how I have lived my life. If he decides that I'm no longer useful to him, then I'd rather not be alive anyhow. I just hope I don't spill his water.
"You disobedient little shit. I told you not to spill my water."
He slaps me hard across the face.
"I'm so sorry sir. Please forgive me."
I feel so awful. I disobeyed his order. I never want to disobey him.
He puts his penis in my mouth and grabs two handfuls of my hair. He pulls my head forward and thrusts his penis into my mouth. I'm so happy to be useful to him. I love choking on his giant cock. So glad he didn't choke me out earlier as this is really the way I'd want to go.
He cums a giant load in my mouth. It's so delicious. Piss and cum! I truly am being honored today.
"Every drop, boy."
Of course, I wouldn't dream of wasting a bit of it.
Oh no, he's getting up. I miss his weight being pressed against me. I miss his dick in my mouth.
"Stop lying around you lazy shit. Get on all fours and lick up the water you spilled."
"Yes sir."
Damn, what was I thinking? I was daydreaming about him and forgot about this mess I made. Let me lick that up as he commanded.
I feel a sharp pain in my balls and collapse on the ground. I cum a big oozing mess. I just realized that he kicked me. This must really be my lucky day. I haven't earned an orgasm in months. He's so good to me. I'm proud he thinks I'm worthy of these honors.
"Thank you, sir."
I have a tear in my eye. But not from the pain. I'm touched by how much he cares about me. He's really made this a special day for me.
"You're welcome. Now pull yourself together. Lick up the rest of this water and the mess you made. Once you're done, make my lunch. I'm starving. I'll be waiting in the living room."
"Yes, sir.
I love my life.
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