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

By sharper

Published on Jan 3, 2023

Gay

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YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 85

Second book : YOU BELONG TO JOBAL PART 32 - Christopher

He stroked my head, spreading his fingers all over my skull and squeezing like it was a ripe melon. "You love him, because he is your owner; now nothing's gonna change that is it?"

I quickly glanced up from his cock; he was looking at me all serious. "nNo sSir ..." I sniffed, "... He's my hero ... bBut ssometimes ... I ..." I was getting all choked up and as the tears came I kept trying to wank his cock and he seemed to really get off on that - I mean on me wanking him but also on me crying like a prat while I did it. Don't ask me why that turned him on.

"Tell me all about it," he said, adjusting himself a bit to let me slide him to the bottom of his shaft and all the way up to squish the foreskin back over the head, and down again off it.

"hHe, ssometimes he d-doesn't seem to care aboutm me ... sSir."

"It's not his job to care about a useless faggot, but I'm sure he does anyway. He protects you, doesn't he?"

"Yes Sir," I said, "like ... if he went away Sir ..." And I swallowed back my tears.

"Would he?" "I don't know Sir. I mean, he he might Sir."

H nodded. "You probably misunderstood something if you thought that. A Superior Man has got all sorts of business he's not going to tell you is he? He might have business to attend to. How would you know what responsibilities he has, hey?" He touched my cheek. "That's it. Keep doing that. Like this -" He took my hands and made me wank him faster. It was really stiff and thick and it was getting super slippery. "... that's ... yeah, like that. That's better. Keep doing that. Like that." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thrusting his hips forward a bit and tapping my shoulder each time I came up the shaft to tell me to go down again, in some kind of rhythm he found most stumulating. The way he started to move his hips and parting his legs told me he was getting really close. "Yeah. That's it. That's right. That's working. That's good. Well done. Keep at it. Keep on ..."

I carried on wanking him, making this kind of unf-unf noise with his foreskin.

He touched my hands to slow me down. "Ok. Ok. Like that ..." he slowed me right down so that I was basically just holding his cock stiff between my two palms.

He was breathing slowly and deeply.

"Ok. All right. Yeah. All right." He relaxed a bit. "That's right. That's good. Ok keep that up." He groaned again and relaxed. "Do you know who I am?"

"No Sir. Sorry Sir."

"But you know Urib don't you?"

And then it dawned on me! "Yes Sir. He trained me the other day Sir."

"I know he did. So you know who I am?"

"Are you Chr..."

"Yes! Christopher. Urib's owner. That's it!"

"Yes Sir." "I own Urib." "Yes Sir. He mentioned you Sir." "Oh did he? All good I hope," he smiled, a moist smile which showed his teeth and piled the skin around his mouth and chin into thick folds.

Christopher was everything Urib said: you know, he had this thick big cock, but he was fat, he was hairy, and he was sort of gross but, I mean, like he wasn't un-attractive but he was the opposite of a younger man, and he was kind of a man who just uses - whatever you have to offer he gets off on it; like me being sad and me crying, he loved that and like he wanted me to share it with him - not cause he cared about how I felt but because it turned him on that I was sort of unhappy and still serving him and pleasing him.

He looked at me, stroking my hurt skin and examining it. "Ok ..." Like he wanted me to keep wanking him. "That's good. That's good. Harder. Yeah that's good ..."

So I was wanking him harder and more fast until I was wanking him so fast it was making my arms ache, shaking his hardon violently to try to get him to cum, and my hands kept hitting the soft hairy fat of his stomach. I think he liked it, but he didn't cum, cause obviously he didn't wanted to - at least not yet.

"When I look at you ... I see ... When I look at you ... When I look at you ... I see ..." He was sort of breathing really heavily.

"Sir?"

"I ... see ..." he said. "I see you ... you look abandoned."

He stroked my head.

"Do I Sir?"

"You look broken. I like that. Are you broken?"

"Yes Sir." And I thought, 'Well I have been broken, haven't I?'

"I like skinny broken muscle fags like you, looking for approval, looking for attention, looking for ways to serve and ... You only understand what you are if you are being used; isn't it?"

"Thank you Sir," I said, still mainly concentrating on wanking him.

"Do you know what a bonsai is?"

"It's a little Japanese tree Sir," I said.

"Yeah. It gets clipped and trained and it gets to be this tiny little version of itself exactly what it's owners want it to be. Fag." He smiled. "You have a very flat stomach," he said. "Are you holding it in?"

"I I I'm not holding it in Sir, I mean not deliberately, it's just, what it is Sir cause I am quite skinny in a way but Po's been training me and he only feeds me this diet Sir." I said, concentrating.

(PPo had me on a really restricted diet of red meat, eggs, and iron-rich vegetables to build lean-muscle and endurance during training and to make me more resilient and feral. He said. But fuck knows if it was working ...)

Suddenly Christopher grabbed my chin and just held it. "Open wide," he murmured. I did so and he spat a carefully aimed gob in my mouth. Then he let go of me with a smile when I swallowed it.

"Thank you Sir."

"Bonsai fag. Cut out the flab. Needs a lot of work but it's potential. You're going to be one very sexy slave soon ... ... That's it ... Masturbate my big cock ... Would you like to suck it?"

"yYes Sir. Please Sir. I would like to suck your big cock Sir." I might have sounded a little bit desperate.

"Go on then. You have my permission."

So I bent my head down to him and used my hands to steady it at the base. It was thick and gooey and although the head wasn't too big to get in my mouth, it was so thick I had a lot of trouble taking much more. I opened my mouth and swallowed as much of it as I could, right to the back, stretching my jaw wide to let it.

He never did anything, just said things like, "Yeah, that's good, take it deep, you love that ..." Stuff like that, encouraging me to try as hard as I could. Not that I needed much encouraging ... I just wanted to give him the best possible blow job cause he had this amazing cock and because he turned me on, the way he treated me, like this mixture of selfishness and concern.

After a bit he told me to lick his balls - cause I think he still didn't wanted to cum and he was real close. But obviously his balls were stuck inside his trousers so he said he thought he needed to undress. "Help me there would you?" "Yes Sir, thank you sir." "That's good. I mean, I can undress without any help, but it's nice to have some guy take my jacket, and help me off with my shirt, and help me step out of my trousers, isn't it? I like the attention," he smiled.

"I'll be glad to help Sir," I said, raising my two hands to lift his jacket up to make it easier for him to get his arms out. Not once did he refer to my hands being taped together; I mean I had to take his jacket, unbutton his shirt, help him pull it out of his waist and help him pull it off his back which it was stuck to a bit, take that from him, which is when I saw his back and his belly, full of flesh like a dark hairy sack, and his fatty tits which were like these falling flab folds dropping like an single old breast over his stomach; open his trouser belt - tight with his belly over it so I don't know how it held - I mean, my belt is loose no matter how tight it is cause I can always hold it in and ... not that it matters ... but ... yes, so that and the buttons, and the fly, and then I had to drag them down like over his great big thighs, one at a time a little bit and then the other a little bit, and his knees and like, I mean, it just went on and on; and I had to help him with his big underpants which stank like of his skank - oh, and I had to take off his shoes and socks which made me remember to kiss his feet, which he appreciated and let me take my time to lick between his toes and round the back of the heel, the soles and the arches of his feet, even the ankle a little bit. There was quite a bit of moisture cause he'd had his shoes and socks on for a while hadn't he. It didn't make me gag though it did a bit.

"Show me you tongue. I want to see it licking. Stretch it out like you mean it. Yeah that's good."

He really appreciated that.

He sat down again with a thump - he was already breathing heavily like, you know, the effort - and his backside flattened on the bed and he spread his legs so I could get my head in there, underneath his cock and lick his large hairy ballsack and his two slippery eggs - they was so big and hot like the sperm that was in there was building up to shoot.

"Ok, now. You know what I think? You're more like Urib than you know. You love humiliation, and you like man soil in your mouth and you like being stupid like obedience and begging and being controlled. Look at you. You're so happy."

I stopped to answer him, "Yes Sir," - cause I was happy - then resumed.

Mostly he smelt of stale sweat and old washing powder and laundry conditioner - which I didn't like as such but I did like that it was his smell and he wanted me to experience it and learn it. I think he knew cause then while I was doing it he actually said, "So, sorry if it's not nice. But you like it don't you?" he said, " And once you get used to it ... Well, you'll be used to it, won't you?" He chuckled at that.

Like I don't think he had any idea what he smelled like or tasted like or what if he was personal hygiene or what he was. Cause he didn't care did he? He just wanted my head between his legs licking it. Stretching my tongue.

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END OF YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 85

Next: Chapter 86


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