YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU?

By sharper

Published on Dec 5, 2022

Gay

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YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 78

Second book : YOU BELONG TO JOBAL PART 25 - the stream

"You have got to be joking," he said. "Now that is outstanding!"

I felt so proud and I thought, 'Yeah, I am a good boy!'

He put the sole of his trainers on my fingers and pressed. Not that it hurt, but it was a bit uncomfortable. He pressed down on them like that just sort of testing what it was ... and I waited ... and he pressed, a bit harder now.

"Did you miss me?" he said.

He pressed down on my fingers; now he was hurting them.

"Did you miss me?"

"Yes s Sir!" I said, facing the floor, eager to use the correct words.

"Ok, look up. Look at me. Kneel."

He released my fingers. I drew myself up and sat on my heels and looked at him standing like a giant above me with his hands by his sides and looking all serious but amused (if that means anything!). I already had this hardon the moment he entered the flat. Now it stood up between my legs all sharp and pointed. He saw it and laughed and tapped it with his toe. I was determined I wouldn't flinch, but I did a tiny bit.

"Sorry Sir."

"That's all right. I like it. And its natural as well. Just so long as you don't cum. Look, kneel up. Look, I've got this," he put his hand in his hoodie pocket and pulled out a little bottle which he waved in my face. "You'll like this. Do you know what this is?"

"No Sir ..." But I thought it was probably poppers.

"Oh come on, take a guess."

"Is it poppers Sir?"

"Good guess!" He smiled. "How did you guess?"

"Oh I don't know Sir."

"Oh I don't know Sir," he mocked my voice. "You don't know anything. But that's all right. It's for the best, isn't it?"

"Yes Sir."

"Yes Sir what?"

"Yes Sir it's for the best."

"What is?"

"It's for the best that I don't know anything Sir."

"Yes it is. It's for the best. Now then. What's next?" He had his bag and shook it and dropped it with a thud and then he just indicated the bulge in his trackies, so I knelt up and I shuffled toward it and I kissed it, just enough to feel it being solid with my lips.

"You ready to be fucked then? Are you?"

"Yes Sir," I said.

"Yeah bet you are." He touched my head. I think he was in a really good mood.

"Have a good session with Urib? Taught you a lot?"

"Yes Sir."

"That's good." He played with my head and pushed my face into his cock.

"What's that when I arrived? He taught you that?"

"Yes Sir. It's called the Worship position, Sir."

"Ooo is it? Learning a lot. You're much improved." He looked down at me. "Yeah, just one session as well! Worship is it? That's so much better, isn't it? That's much better. That's exactly how you should treat me. Urib tell you that did he?"

"Yes Sir."

"Yes Sir. Good for him. Looks like you made some real progress. About time."

"I'm sorry Sir."

"Sorry?"

"I'm sorry it took me so long to learn. I didn't want to be bad but I just didn't know." I leaned my forehead against his prick. "I always wanted to be good but I just didn't know what I had to do Sir. I'm sorry Sir."

"Yeah well you will be sorry. You will be."

I looked up at him.

"I haven't forgotten," he said.

And I mean I knew what he meant exactly cause he was talking about punishing me - probably more severely than I had ever been punished before in my life but nevertheless I smiled like I couldn't help it; a great big grin that just sort of ate up half my face. And I pushed my face into his groin and kissed the shape of his penis inside it and the cushion of his ballsack and I was just hiding my face in his crotch and I couldn't help smiling cause, I don't know why but cause I was getting used to it wasn't I? Yeah I think I was getting used to it and I was thinking, Yeah, I WOULD like to be punished! I WOULD like to be punished if it meant, like Po was using me for what he wanted and I was being taken into this new world of pain that like other men never experienced cause they was too ... straight or too plain vanilla or boring or, you know, weak to be men like me!

If that makes any sense.

He stroked my head and and I think he thought I was crying or frightened or something, cause he said, "There, there, don't be scared. We're going to get through this together. I'm going to help you."

"Yes Sir," I said. I was excited.

"Hey, hey, don't be frightened. You can do this, I promise. I've got poppers and I'll only hurt you where you can deal with it. There's rules about this. I'll be safe. I promise I'll be safe. It'll be like ..." He stopped, with his hand on my head and his cock really starting to stand up inside his tracks, like he was thinking of the best way of putting it. "It'll be like having sex. I promise. It'll be like I'm fucking you so-oo deep and you're just begging for it. But I'm going to absolutely ruin you. Would you like that?"

"Yes Sir."

"I promise. Now ..." He strained a little, "Hold o-hold on ...", and a dark spot appeared in his trousers just near my face which expanded into a dark patch which grew and spread down his leg and glistened with urine coming through the cloth. "... I've got to get some of this pressure off ... Drink it up," he said. "Drink it. Quick. I don't want there to be a mess."

So I put my lips to his wet leg and tried to suck as much of his urine through it as I could. It was a hopeless task. The spurt from the tip was coming straight through and running down the outside.

"It's filling up my shoes you cunt!" I didn't know what to do about it. I mean he was pissing and there wasn't much I could do about it. I mean, obviously he wasn't even trying not to, to stop it. He was deliberately making his tracks all wet. I was trying to suck up as much of his warm pee as I could but he didn't stop even when it was plainly more than I could handle. It tasted all salt like not fresh but clean and powerful - evaporating quickly from the heat of his clothes, the smell was amazing, like an old bed left out in the rain - overflowing into a pool round his feet by the time it stopped.

"All I want to do is this ..." said Po vaguely. I could tell he was so hot to fuck cause his dick was swelling up again and he stroked my head like he wanted to fuck my face. "Yeah, let's do this ..."

He pushed me onto the wall so that my back was supported and he held my face and pushed his crotch into it, all soaking wet. I carried on sucking the urine from his clothes when I could. I could tell that he liked it. The stiff bulge of his prick rubbed around my nose and slipped over my mouth.

"You like being my piss slave ... Look at me. I always wanted a piss slave. Look at me piss slave!"

I could just about look up. The taste and the wet and him controlling my head to flip around in his groin made us both smile ... cause it was so nice, you know, being there and being all covered in his warm smell, like he was marking me as his.

"You're going to be my toilet from now on in. Right, clean this up."

He stepped away and took off his shoes and trackkies and his socks and throwing them down into the puddle so that they absorbed it a little. He was wearing just his hood and these dark tight skinny briefs that his cock made a great big tent of. When he took them off, stretching the leghole with his foot (I helped him) - his amazing junk fell out like a load of furniture - and unzipping the hood quickly (I stood to help) he was completely naked like in front of me and I could hardly look.

I felt like Lady Diana looking at one of her beefy lovers!

"Put all that in the wash."

I mean, obviously that's what I was going to do, but I didn't say anything more than, "Yes Sir," cause I knew my place. I didn't say anything wisearse or clever because that would have been disrespectful.

His dick popped forward over his walnutty nutsack and he cupped it and gave it a squeeze and a pull and adjusted it to make it comfortable. That was my Master's cock, pink and brown and the foreskin stretching like rubber over the hard shiny lump; it flew toward me and around my head as he stepped over me and went into the bedroom, his big brown buttocks rising and falling against each other with each step, grinding the black hair between them like a chaff of burnt grass (I saw that!) and I grabbed his clothes; I used them to quickly mop the flooring laminate - 'That'll do.' - and ran to our them into the washer.

"Fast wash and dry - I'll need those to go out!" he called - I wondered how long he was staying; surely he would stay the night? I was looking forward to that. I like the way he tucks his body round me when we sleep.

"And bring the strap. We might as well get started. And the poppers." He left them on a ledge by the door. "Hurry! Up!"

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END OF YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 78

Next: Chapter 79


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