This story is fiction. I hope you guys like it. It certainly makes ME hard! :-) Let me know if it works for you, at gayandhorny@fastmail.net!
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YOUNG MASTER
As I walked in the door, Pierre was lounging on the sofa. He was lithe, and was wearing snug black jeans and a blue sweater that nicely outlined the fine lines of his chest. He was also wearing tight black leather boots, often a sign that he wanted to attract my attention. As I undid my jacket he looked at me, smiling almost arrogantly at my reaction as I took in his effortless beauty once again: the smooth, young face, the jet black hair, and of course the swimmer's body that he knew the clothes showed off to perfection.
I approached him, wanting to touch him, but when I was a few feet away he stood up and said, "Stop. Get on your knees and strip!" I quickly did as I was told, knowing how he hated it if I was slow to obey. I was starting to get nervous, since he often began like this just to show his power over me; there was no telling what would happen once he had proved his dominance - and my sexual submission - yet another time.
I waited, staring down at his boots, my cock getting harder every minute. My erection was getting painful, since he had ordered me that morning to wear the tightest cock and ball stretcher we had. He often did this as a way of keeping me thinking of him at work. He moved one boot forward, a sign for me to bow down and lick it. He reached behind my exposed ass and squeezed my balls just enough to make them hurt more. I kept tonguing his boots, and felt my whole body begin to thrill with desire. He did nothing except stand above me, as I became more and more excited while licking his boots. After a while, even though I knew he might punish me for it, I begged him, whispering, to be allowed to lick his cock. He grabbed me by the hair, and roughly pushed his boot under my balls.
"You want my dick, cocksucker?", he asked. "Beg more!" So I started to beg him, first quietly and then more desperately. He liked that, making me beg loudly and repeatedly. He withdrew his boots and left me like that, face down on the floor. He left the room, ordering me not to move. As I stayed like that, naked, with my ass vulnerable in the air, he spent about ten minutes wandering around, mostly, I realized, just to humiliate me.
Finally he returned with a leather strap and whipped my ass. I had to thank him for every stroke, and, humiliatingly, it made me harder. When he was done he came around in front of me. I looked up at him, longing for him, for any attention. He slapped my face, and I thanked him; he liked that. He made me kiss the leather strap he had used to beat me. His dick was hanging out of his open fly, and he ordered me to suck it. I felt him start to harden in my mouth, and my own cock became doubly rigid. He would let me suck for a moment or two, then pull out and wave his dick in my face, drawing its' precum filled head across my eyes, my nose, and my lips. I already knew better than to take it in my mouth again without an order. My hands were shaking at my sides, since I was dying to touch my own cock, I begged him for permission, and all he said was "O.K. - for now". Then he shoved his hard meat in my mouth again, making sure I played with every inch of it - and desired every inch of it. And then he would remove it, leaving me frustrated for several minutes at a time. At those moments he would jerk off in my face, which only made we want to feel his silky pole in my mouth again. As he got closer to coming, he lunged into me harder and harder, and I heard myself, almost against my will, begin to plead for his come. He like to hear me beg, and it often made him even harder, as he thrust into my waiting mouth. Two or three times I was almost about to come myself, and with his incredible sense of timing he would pull out, and make me start all over again. It was uncanny how he could push me to the edge, and know just when to withdraw.
His pumping increased, and I was groaning with my own desire. I felt his cock starting to spasm as he roughly pulled my hair, plowed deep into my mouth, and erupted inside me. I felt his cock pulsing come into my throat, as he roughly kicked my hands off my own cock. When he was finished, he made me lick him completely clean, and closed his zipper. I realized then that, as was usually the case, I would not be allowed to come that day, and he wanted to deliberately leave me desiring him as intensely as possible. He walked off, leaving me nude on my knees, rock hard, dripping come from my mouth, and without his permission to come. He walked out he door, telling me to stay nude while he was gone. I knew that if I came without permission, he would punish me the most effective way possible: by denying me permission even to touch his body for days. I was a slave to my boy master. He was only nineteen.