Chapter 6.

I wake up to the smell of coffee. He’s not in bed. I rouse myself and walk to the dining room and see that the door to the kitchen is open and I hear him tinkering around in there. I shyly stand in the doorway. “Crawl over here,” he orders. Holy shit! Down on the ground, crawling to him, I fixed my eyes on his toes which looked so delicious to me. I didn’t find it humiliating; it was simply what he wanted, and so I did it to please him. Only after the fact, during a quiet lull in the day, did I take stock of the fact that whenever he ordered it, I would get down on the floor and crawl like a broken servant or like some kind of animal, simply because he ordered it. Without being commanded to, once I got to him I rewarded myself by licking his toes. Damn! I actually saw this as a reward! How submissive I was becoming—or rather, how I began to naturally act out of my submissiveness; I instinctively knew what to do because I wanted to show him how he had already conquered me. I also realize, when I look back, that it was at that precise moment when my tongue touched his toes, that I was feeling what I would later recognize as love for Bobby.

“Later I’ll show you how to work this machine. We’re on our own for breakfast, so there’s a lot you’re gonna have to learn. So stand up now. You drink coffee?

“Yes, Sir. A lot.”

“I’d never deprive a coffee-drinker of his coffee, just like I’d never deprive my cocksucker of my cock. Fix yourself a cup and sit at the table with me.” He’s dresses casually but his feet are bare and now I know why that’s true. It’s also clear that he is a good dresser and doesn’t prefer to hang around like a slob. Either he’s clothed or in boxer briefs or naked. As for me, I guess being clothed is not going be as common in my life if he decides to keep me. Oh, I pray. I fix my coffee, noticing where things are kept, and sit at the table with him, actually a bit surprised that he’s letting me do this.

“did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Sir. Right until your boy smelled the coffee.”

He chuckles. “Best alarm clock there is. And you’re lucky because I like to make the coffee most of the time so the coffee can continue to wake you up. But God help you if you’re not here in this kitchen with me before I’ve finished my first cup.”

We sat there enjoying our coffee. for me it was a special moment, because it was one of the few occasions when I was allowed to be on the same level as he was. We were both seated at the table. Usually, I would come to learn, I would be under the table kissing his feet, and sometimes even bent over the table for a thrashing; eventually he would be bending me over the table or anything else in order to fuck me. But I wasn’t even thinking of that at the time. Until he interrupted my meandering thoughts to give me a sharp dose of reality.

“I’m going to spank you. It’s the best way to get you back into the mindset I’m trying to build within you. Not as punishment, simply as, let’s say, maintenance. After I’m done with that, I’m going to strip. My cock is slimy and sticky and I want you to lick it clean and maybe suck me for a while. Then I’m taking you to get a good shave all over from one of my buddies. It’s fucking distasteful to see a boy like you sprouting body hair. I’m surprised you never kept yourself shaved.”

“Never thought of it, Sir.”

“You never read any gay erotica or bdsm porn?”

“no, Sir. Very little. All this fag ever thought about was just sucking cock.” I waited for him to react to my calling myself a “fag,” but he let it pass. Maybe because it was just the truth.

“Well here’s a fact of life: subs like you never have body hair. You’re not man enough for that even though your body keeps it growing. I’ll have my buddy show you the basics because from now on you will kept yourself shaved just the way he shaves you today. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Make us some toast with butter.” I get up to do what he ordered, and I’m glad to have something to do because for some reason I’m beginning to get nervous. Barely awake and he’s laying a lot on me. I wish he’d just go and do whatever it is he wants to do with me or to me and leave it at that. Not so sure it’s good for me to know all his plans.

I make the toast and once again we’re sitting together and having breakfast. “I want to know something. See if you can answer me truthfully. Is it helpful that I let you know what I’ve got planned, does it help you mentally prepared?”

I think for a while before answering him. “Bobby, your boy cannot say for sure except that he’s very nervous now because he knows what’s next.”

“I think it would be more appropriate for you to refer to yourself as ‘it.’ For example, “Bobby, your boy cannot say for sure except that it’s very nervous now because it knows what’s next. That would sound much more appropriate. Don’t you think so yourself, boy?”

“Yes, Sir, it agrees.”

“Interesting. we’ll continue this conversation another time then.”

Bobby finishes his toast, then pushes his chair back away from the table and then snaps his fingers at me. “Okay, boy, let’s get you programmed again. Get over my knees.” I look into his face and realize how much he’s going to enjoy this. Wow. I can give him pleasure simply by obeying him. It’s awkward at first until Bobby finally takes charge and gets me into the position he wants. He’ll be spanking my bare ass with his right hand. I’m getting hard. I start grinding him and he chuckles. “Shit. My hands might not be enough.” But he caresses my cheeks with his hand and then gently taps them, but suddenly the taps are turning into good hard slaps, and in my mind I conjure up all the old pictures I used to see of boys getting their bums beat in cartoons about hillbilies. The pain gets intense very quickly and I’m no longer grinding. Now I’m writhing as Bobby lights fires in my virginal boy-flesh, both sides, and then, just as I think he’s finished, he has me stand and turn around and get back down over his knees from the other direction so he can begin spanking me with his other hand. And I’m already on fire. Tears come to my eyes and crying out “ow! ow!”

He stops for a minute. “Shit, boy. what the fuck took you so long to start crying out. Don’t try to play tough guy with me. I know when I’m hurting you. I expect you to sing to me about it. Capisce? “Um, your boy thinks so, Sir.” “I like hearing from the boy I beat. Carry on like a deranged faggot who can’t take even a little bit of pain. You’re better than that. Let me hear it.” “Yes, Sir, I say and quickly cry out again when he lands a solid blow on my aching ass with his left hand. And it continues until I’m actually crying like a ten-year-old boy whose Dad decided he needed a major attitude adjustment. And damn, Bobby sure is adjusting my attitude. All I want is to be his slave. In every possible way.

He stops. “There. I think that did the trick. So I’m going to strip down and lie on the bed and I want you to get that mouth to work cleaning up the slime from my dick. And my balls as well. Lick up all the man-scent.” And so that is what I end up doing for a good long while until at last he has me stop. “I’m taking a shower. While I’m doing that I want you to shave your face and brush your teeth. Then I’ll show you what I want you to wear.” I notice he says nothing about me showering. Does he actually want me to smell? Again, it seems like he’s reading my mind. “No sense showering you until after Tom gets you shaved. In fact, we’re going there first because I want you shaved before I take you shopping"

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