All the characters in this story are over 18.

Chapter 5

“I’m about to cum. Make sure you swallow all of it or you’ll be punished. Learn the taste of my cum and start craving it. The best drink you can ever have, at least for now. Here it comes, faggot! Take it!” And as he was shooting his semen down my throat he started slapping the back of my head and my shoulders until at last he thrust himself all the way down my throat and didn’t seem to care in the least that I started to choke. When I was finally allowed to take my mouth off his cock there was a long string of saliva and semen stretching from the end of his cock to my mouth. He looked down and chuckled as he added more of his own spit to the mess. “Clean all of that up, boy. Suck it; lick up the mess you made like a good boy. Don’t hurry. Take your time. Enter into the experience of serving the man who just beat you. Drink up the humiliation. You’ve needed this for a long time. It will help you understand things a lot better.”

As I lick up the juices from my throat and his cock I realize just how much I’ve needed to serve cock, how much I’ve needed to be under the control of a superior man. Finally, when I think I’ve got it all, I simply rest my head on his pubes and he begins to massage my scalp with his fingers and holy shit, does that send chills through my body! Finally, Bobby lifts my head up and tells me to go and sit on the floor with my legs crossed, and so that is what I do as he gets dressed again but leaves his feet bare. I want to give in to the impulse to go and kiss his feet again but before I even get a chance to move he tells me I have to get used to being naked in front of him and his friends (!!!!) whenever we have sufficient privacy. I’ve always been so shy about my body, so this sounds like a bit more than I can handle. “Don’t worry about your little-boy genitals, kid. Tomorrow I’ll show you how you can keep them hidden without having to put on any clothing. They make stuff that restricts a boy’s freedom to get to his own junk. The only junk that matters now is mine. Don’t you forget that. Let’s go inside. I want to watch a movie and you can play with my feet the way you did earlier when you were learning how to suck cock.” “Yes, Sir,” I say as I follow him into the living room and take up my perch at the end of the couch with his bare feet in my lap and pressing into my balls. Was that by accident or was it deliberate? I’m afraid I know the answer to that question. As I sit back the pain from his lash forces me to quickly move away from the back of the couch. “Lean all the way back, boy. Feel the pain. Pain that I gave you just because I wanted to help you learn your place.”

It's a good movie but I don’t actually remember any of it. I kept playing with his feet and they feel so good in my hands. I get distracted because they too are so well-formed and so beautiful to me. Slender feet with short toes, not like the big feet that a lot of guys have. I’m glad. I like the way they are. I like the way they feel. I like the way they taste. “Go into the dining room and fetch a bottle of water for me,” he commands. I get up and do as he said. When I get back and hand it to him, he tells me to kneel between his legs. “You’re like a puppy, boy. I order you to fetch and you get right to it. Good obedient servant for me. And I bet you’re a little thirsty as well, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Bobby, I am thirsty.”

“I have to teach you a better way to speak, boy. What you should say is ‘yes, bobby, your boy is thirsty’ or ‘yes, Bobby, your faggot is thirsty’. Stop using the word “I” when we’re alone together. Understand?

“Yes, Sir, your boy understands,” I answer, proud of myself that I said it that way. But my pride is cut short when he leans forward and begins slapping my face until there are tears in my eyes. Then he spits on my face again. He takes a drink of water from the bottle and then spits it at me and it gets all over. “Open your mouth, faggot,” he orders. I open. He take more water and spits it almost completely into my mouth and I swallow. He does it three more times and we seem to get a rhythm going. He looks pleased.

“That’s how I give my faggot something to drink. All your drinks come from my body from now on. My cum, my spit, and eventually my piss.”

I react strongly against that, then shrink back, expecting him to strike me again, but no, he just sits there patiently and waits. Waits for what? I’m not sure.

“The day will soon come, not today, when I’m going to piss in your mouth. Just a little bit at first so you can get used to the idea. Right now it freaks you out. I understand. It’s a freaky thing. So let my words sink into your soul, boy. Listen carefully.” He speaks more slowly and deliberately. “You will be drinking my piss. You will become my urinal. That’s right. My urinal. Let it sink in.”

The tears that appeared in my eyes when he was slapping my face now begin to drip down my face. “That’s good, boy. You look beautiful to me. Your tears are proof that I own you. Your tears tell me a lot about the power I have over you. You will weep for me because it pleases me to make you weep. To make you cry. To make you sob. To make you scream. And the sound really gets me off, boy.”

After the movie ends, he turns off the TV. “Have you ever played with your balls, stretched them or even slapped them a little to find out what the pain would be like?” Quickly, I answered, “no, Bobby.” “Fucking virgin balls too. Shit, I hit the jackpot with you, kid. There’s so much you need to learn. “Get up. Come over here. Spread your legs.” I do as he said and immediately he wraps one of his hands around my scrotum, separating my balls from my body. He pulls on them and I bend my knees to go with his motion, but he slaps my face with his free hand. “No, bitch. Don’t drop down when I pull those balls. They’re mine now. They don’t belong to you. Stand up straight and stay that way.” With that, he pulls, slowly at first, but then more intensely and I having myself holding my breath and grunting from the feeling. I’ve never been violated in this way before. He lets the pressure off but then starts playing the my balls—or rather, his balls, and it feels good until he starts squeezing. “You’ll find that when your balls get beat you’ll feel the pain in your gut. Not now, but another time.”

He turns out the lights and calls up another set of porno clips. This group is simply called “Balls.” It starts slowly with just one boy sitting on the end of a chair, reaching down to touch himself. He puts his scrotum in his hand and gently pulls it. Then it looks like he’s toying with one testicle at a time. Then he holds the scrotum again and begins smacking his balls with the other hand. Gently at first, and then harder and harder and I hear him grunt from the pain. The next clip is of a boy spread-eagled to a large X, hands and ankles bound. A man dressed in jeans and a leather vest walks over to the boy and does the same things to the boy that was in the first clip. He gets really rough with the boy and I hear the boy cry out. The next clip is of a boy holding a long piece of string, and he wraps it around his scrotum and then around each testicle, separating them. Wow. Another clip. This time, the boy’s balls are bound much more tightly and the man in the leather vest is holding a ruler which he uses to strike the boy’s separated balls one at a time until the boy doubles over from the pain. The man put his hand around the boy’s neck and gets him stand up straight again for more punishment. Every time the boy bends over from the pain, the man gets him upright again and continues beating the boy, this time with one hand against his chest, forcing him to stand up straight and take the pain. The boy cries out pitifully, over and over again. “Hear the sweet music that slave is making for its Master?” Bobby asks me. “Yes, Sir, I do.” Immediately I’m smacked across the face again. “You said the forbidden word. Next time you do that I’ll be using the strap on you. Understand, faggot?” “Yes, Bobby, your faggot understands.” “that’s better.”

He switches to another movie, something I’ve never seen before about a straight couple who are trying to work through some problems in their relationship. It doesn’t’ make sense to me, but finally I realize that he’s already seen the first half of this film, so I concentrate on the feeling of his feet and toes in my hands and sneak peeks at his face from time to time, because it is his face more than anything else which really ramps up this strange desire I have to submit to whatever he wants from me.

He looks so smug and self-confident almost all the time. Definitely someone meant to be in charge. His eyes pierce me taking possession of a part of me that I didn’t ever realize existed before I met him. “Taking possession of” A powerful phrase and it’s exactly what I feel is happening. He has plans for me and it won’t always be easy but his will is more powerful than my puny efforts at resisting. Besides, I’ve been told that any resistance on my part will bring about the end of this relationship. That’s kind of scary, except I quickly realized this means I know what to do if I want to get out of this whole thing, whatever it is. He’s not interested in any head trips or anguished break-ups. He spells it out clearly. Black and white. I’m in or I’m out. And I’m sure it won’t be long before he takes an interest in someone else. There was some high drama going on in the movie but I was so lost in my head that I have no idea what was going on besides a lot of intense conversations between the two of them. After it’s over, he says to me, “Clever movie but still such a sad waste of energy. Those two slobs will be driving each other crazy all of their lives. But damn it! All she had to do was beat the shit out of him or get one of her friends to do it for her, and things would settle down after 3 or 4 beatings. No more arguments. She gets what she wants. Very simple. Keep that in mind if you catch yourself feeling sorry for yourself. I get what I want. Let’s go piss and then I want you to give me a back massage before I go to sleep. You can either stay up on the bed with me or go sleep in the floor.” If I was hoping that we’d get to cuddle. I’m disappointed, but I realize that might not be part of the deal. At least not in the beginning.

He strips off for bed and I straddle his waist savoring the feeling of his butt rubbing up against me. His flesh is creamy and pure. I’ve never given a massage before, but I just lay my hands on his shoulders and do what comes natural. After all, I’m caught up in adoring this man. What could be nicer than to get to use my hands on his skin and muscles and I hear no complaints so I guess my performance is at least suitable. I’m sure that if he wishes he would probably find a way to get me to be better at it. But as for me, right now, I feel like I’m using my hands to worship him. I wish I could see his face while I’m doing that. Finally he’s ready to go to sleep and I’m disappointed when he tells me to stop. And then he says something to me that will have me smiling as I stay on the bed making sure I’m not touching him, and I’m ready to go to sleep. Oh, wait! I haven’t told you what he said to me, the last thing he says for the day, “Good night, boy. You did a real good job today. I’m pleased with you.”

Wow.

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