When Master Calls 12
As always, my stories of encounters with Master are based on real experiences. Thank you to all who have responded, I love to hear your thoughts and to answer your questions. Please remember to keep supporting this valuable resource.
There are times when performing the simplest of tasks can make me appreciate the true joy of service to Master. Take last week for example, i am beside Master in His bed, my head rests on His chest as i concentrate on servicing His right nipple. I have been licking around the tip, darting my tongue back and forth in the hope of giving pleasure; nibbling gently, i take the tip between my teeth and pull back oh so carefully to cause Him a sweet sensation, or so i hope, without inflicting pain. My master shows no reaction to these efforts as He scrolls on His phone but i know that is of no matter, the instruction was to pay attention to His nipple and for the present that is all i need do.
So often when following such an order i'm impatient at first, thinking how much more pleasure there would be delving down to His cock, savouring the slickness under the foreskin, but gradually i focus and remind myself this is what Master instructed so this is all there need be. If Master's will is all that matters then there can be no greater purpose than furthering it, so i settle to the task pushing out all other thoughts. This is generally how it works, and my mind is cleansed. More often than not i find an inner peace which allows me to gain exquisite pleasure by concentrating on the single, simple task. The smoothness of the skin around the tip and its contrasting colour fascinate as i dab my tongue around it; the single hairs here and there become a new focus, the only hairs that matter, and i tease them with my tongue. This small part of His body becomes all the world i need for these precious moments.
But Master has now put down His phone and i feel His hand move down the bed.
His voice is harsh, "You've forgotten!"
I pull back from His chest to answer, "W... What Sir? Forgotten what?"
My mind is racing but i quickly return my attention to the nipple, making an extra special effort to please. I suck hard, like a baby at the teat. It's like i'm hoping to extract something from it (His orders? His explanation? His forgiveness?). I try to lose myself again in the worship of His breast, to lose myself among the few hairs, which stand tall in my vision so close to my eyeball as i rest my left cheek on His torso. I'm beginning to sweat, fearing what i may have forgotten. Did i forget to pay attention to the other nipple? But i don't remember His asking. Did i inadvertently linger over His armpit? I have often been disciplined for trying to savour its ripeness without specific permission.
But no, the answer comes swiftly and without words! Master's hand shoves itself between my thighs, grabs my ball sac and pulls sharply. I need no other reminder, of course. On the very first time i'd had the privilege to be in Master's bed the instruction had been clear, to keep legs sufficiently far apart for master to be able to shoot His knee upwards between them, to be so far apart that He could punch my balls or, as now, grab them for His amusement.
I reel from the pain in my balls but know i should not back off from my task, so at the same time i am desperate to suck, to lick, to show i'm worthy to serve Him whilst trying not to cry out with pain. There is another compulsion, i must immediately thank Master for correcting me and apologise. What a mess, i am totally confused, aware of my failings, not knowing what to do next, so i do what i know i can do well, i again try to lose myself in the worship of His body, burying my shame and fear in the contemplation of His right nipple.
I've come to realise that master best likes me in these situations, when i am like a confused child, eager to please but afraid of messing up, not quite sure what to say. For me there is an inherent humiliation in this, but in that humiliation rises an awareness of His power. I know of course that He sets me up to fail at times like these just so He can watch my flailing sense of inferiority and incompetence; it makes me blush; it makes me lower my eyes; it makes me conscious of what he calls my little dicklet; above all else it makes me conscious of His manliness and of my privilege in being allowed so close to it. And it makes me hard!
Humiliation has been a major theme in Master's training recently, possibly more so than inflicting the pain which i so much crave. When he last called, quite unexpectedly, i was told to make myself available to Him at a house i didn't know. Instructions -- as usual -- were clear and to be obeyed to the letter: no underwear, just a T shirt and jeans plus the riding crop.
I parked up outside the given address and rang the bell. Master beckoned me in and told me what to do.
"Take off your shirt, shoes and socks. Stand still."
As yet there was no sign of the householder, just Master and me in the entrance hall. He reached forward and started to undo the buttons of my jeans, fingers parting the fly. Often with Master my nervousness delays my getting hard, and my dicklet, which can grow to an average length i suppose, remains stubbornly short and insignificant looking. Master made a point of impatiently fiddling around inside my jeans as though looking for something, and eventually he pulled out the tip of my little willy so it was just showing against the blue fabric.
"Come through and show our host what you've got."
Walking into the living room i feared my dicklet might slip back into the folds of my clothing but, in fact probably a worse outcome, there remained a small suggestion of flesh just visible. My throat went dry.
"Hey, look! What do you think, I told you it was small."
The naked figure of a man, slightly older than Master, kneeling on the floor next to the sofa smirked like a kid who had just got away with something. I think he now realised that i was to be the object of Master's attention while he merely watched.
"Yes boss, it's pathetic," he replied, no doubt wanting to chime in with Master's humiliating words and gain some credit for joining in the ridicule.
Master sat back on the sofa, hands behind His head.
"Suck his cock." The order was directed at me. "You will address him as Sir while you're in his house, even though he is my sub."
I thanked Master and immediately set to sucking this man's cock, at time like this i revel in the role; told to suck i do just that, fulfilling my purpose, my destiny as a cocksucker eager to please men and to show my humble status. My mouth is a receptacle for men's cocks and my role is to please them. With my tongue i attempted to ease back his foreskin, eager to savour the sour dampness beneath. It rolled back without difficulty and revealed the delights of the smooth, silky damp surface around which i swirled my tongue. I could sense Master's gaze on the back of my head as He began to bark out instructions.
"Deeper, take it all in, right down, let's hear you gag."
And then the sharp swipe of the crop across my arse cheeks, urging me on. I could tell that Master was playing with His cock, his hand was inside his trousers which were pulled down at the front and i longed to catch a glimpse. My arse was stinging with the stripes from the crop but i couldn't stop sucking. I could sense he was about to shoot and Master, alerted by his gasping, told me to stop.
"Face the wall, hands above head." The order was for me. "You know how I like to be sucked, your job now is to tell our new friend how to suck me off."
Jeb, i'd now learnt his name, shuffled on his knees to the sofa and buried his head in Master's crotch. Of course i couldn't quite see what was happening but i still had to guide him.
"Master likes it long and slow. Play with His foreskin with your tongue, try to get it underneath and show how much you savour the taste, then lick along the shaft, below before you take the whole cock into your mouth, be sure you get right down to His pubic hair ....... ."
I kept the words up, all the time longing for it to be me on my knees before my Master. The humiliation was endless!
Well, not quite endless. Yes there was more, but Master needed to leave soon and wanted me to experience a final shame. I was made to lie on my back, flat out, and masturbate in front of the two of them while they watched and commented on my little dicklet. It took a while, even though i was eager to cum. Sensing that i would be slow to climax Master instructed Jeb to wank over me. Soon i felt his jism spray over my chest and, as though permission had been granted, my own seed came in great shameless spurts reaching my hair, the floor beyond my head, everywhere!
"I think you know your manners, boy. Clean up your mess before leaving Jeb's house."
I knew what this meant and burning with embarrassment, on all fours, licked up my spent spunk from the wooden floor. Surely there could be no further shame? But yes, Master was now wanking and grinning as he did so.
"Pass me your T shirt."
Just as i obeyed the order His seed came shooting out, soaking into the front of my shirt. Ordered to put it on i was given one last task, a task which made it all so worthwhile. I was allowed to clean off the spent spunk from the end of Master's cock! Thank You Master, I can't wait for You to call again!