Master John's Tales (sub #1: Chapter 1)
I'm 6'4" (1.94m) and 220lbs (100kg). All muscle. I'm a 35 years old white guy from New York, living in my own one bedroom apartment in Chelsea and faggots are begging to serve me! I've always had an A-type personality, but growing bigger has definitely led me to develop my Dominant traits further. I was already looking down at everyone when I was in college. Physically, that is, because everyone is shorter! I'm not a condescending prick. But when I moved to New York at 25, came out and started going to the gym more seriously, that's when I also gained serious mass - and became irresistible.
With great power, came great responsibility. Soon I realized that the fags could not help themselves around me. Women flirted with me too, but I didn't notice them. I knew what I wanted and that was boys. Sometimes men too, especially as I grew a little older, but I'd make then my boys too. My faggot little boys. I learned to recognize my worth long ago, so I expected to be rewarded for it with total obedience.
I almost forgot to mention that I'm hung, though you'd find out soon anyway. It's 9" and thick. I'm actually glad it's not more, because otherwise there would be too many holes it wouldn't fit. I don't like it when a sub backs away before I've even started, just because it's too big. Sure, I can start slow to ease it in, but I want to fuck a boi until I'm ready to cum, and maybe a little more!
By the way, I call them subs, bottoms, boys and fags interchangeably because they're all the same to me - in the end they all submit to me, or at least they should, and I'm the one who decides the level of submission I require from them. Sometimes that can take time, but I'm patient and I enjoy training them into what I want them to become. You'll see. I'll tell you all about it. Some of them even started out as Doms or didn't know that they were really subs inside, even slaves. So as much as this is my story, these are their stories too. The tales of how I helped so many subs discover themselves.
Let's begin.
Master John's sub #1: Mike
The first story I'll tell you is about Mike, an Asian 23 year old twink. Mike arrived at my place at 10 p.m. on a Wednesday night. He knocked on the door a little too softly. I let him wait. Finally he rang the doorbell.
When I opened the door, I found a cute boi that was shorter than me by a head. "Hi," I said.
"Hello, Sir" he replied.
I moved aside and let him in, then closed the door after him. "Take your shoes off and get undressed," I ordered.
"Yes, Sir," he said. He hunched forward to undo his shoe laces, showing me the cute shape of his little ass. He kicked off his shoes and set them aside, then took off his t-shirt and pants, folding them neatly on top of his shoes.
"Your underwear too, boy," I urged.
"Um, yes Sir," he said, obviously uncomfortable, even blushing a bit, as he proceeded to take off his underwear and put them on top of his pile of clothes. I got a kick out of that and felt a bit of a hard-on brewing in my pants. He was slim, a little defined, not skinny, just as I like them. And his dick was small.
I took a step forward and reached behind his back to feel his ass. At the same time he seemed to hug me, perhaps so as not to fall, perhaps just enjoying my body that is so much bigger than his. I squeezed his butt cheeks a bit and let go. Then I grabbed his dick. It grew a bit in my hand as the boi got hard. But his hard dick was still very small in my large hand. Tiny really. Pathetic.
Some of you might be wondering, maybe even disappointed, why the boy isn’t in chastity.
All in good time. I’m one of the first Doms this little twink has ever met, quite likely the only real Master he's ever had the privilege of submitting to. But there’s a process to it. I don’t want to scare the little mouse away. I patted the top of his head and nudged him to the living room.
I sat down in my armchair and pointed in the direction of my feet. "On your knees." I ordered.
He did as I said and kneeled in front of me.
I was not wearing shoes inside the house. "Take my socks off," I ordered.
He proceeded with pulling each of the socks off my feet.
"Do you know how to give a massage, boy?" I asked.
"Ah, I haven't done it before, Sir,"
"Alright, you'll learn," I said. "Use your thumbs."
"Yes Sir," he said, and proceeded to press his thumbs into my left foot. It wasn't unpleasant, but there wasn't a system to it.
I pulled my legs away and got up from the armchair. "Look up a quick YouTube video on foot massage on your phone. I'm going to make myself a drink and change into something more comfortable. Do you want a drink, boy?"
"Ah, some water, Sir, thank you," he said.
I took off and he started watching YouTube. I got back several minutes later with my whiskey on the rocks and handed him a glass of water. "Learned something new, boy?" I asked.
"Uhh, yes Sir, I think. Something," he answered, without much confidence, then took a big gulp from the water and set his glass on the coffee table.
"Let's see," I said, as I settled into my armchair in loose boxers with a yellow duck print and an even looser light blue tank top that didn't even hide my nipples. I put my feet up on the ottoman.
The boy stared at my chest, my biceps, and I suspect, my armpit, as I raised my left hand behind my head. I pointed with my right hand to my feet, keeping my left arm up. “Get to work,” I commanded, and he snapped out of it. He started massaging my left foot, alternating between his thumbs as he pressed them into my foot in a repeating sequence from bottom to top, more attentive than before not to miss any part of my foot. “Much better. Press harder,” I encouraged him.
“Yes Sir,” he replied and started to apply more pressure.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed his work. I loved the pampering. I almost fell asleep. Or maybe I did. I snapped out when he gently pushed both my feet up towards my knees, a kind of trick that he already picked up, which is a part of the massage and is used to signal that it has come to its conclusion. I opened my eyes, a little sleepy but refreshed, and slowly regaining my senses. I took a sip from my drink. Its smooth bite in my throat helped wake me up. I put my feet down on the floor and moved the ottoman aside. "Come here," I instructed him to crawl forward between my legs.
He crawled forward and stopped just in front of me, on his knees. I felt his balls with my right foot. His shriveled dick sprang to life. I pressed my big toe to his rectum. He purred and his dick seemed to get harder. Mine too and I could see that he was staring at my boxers. I pressed harder into his hole. He licked his lips. I grabbed my dick through my boxers. "Is this what you came for, boi?" I asked.
"Yes Sir," he replied. "I mean, umm, I like every part of you, Sir!"
"Is that SO? Did you enjoy giving me a foot massage, boy?"
"Yes Sir," he said. "Thank you for the opportunity, I'm glad I could learn to serve you better and I'm grateful for your patience with me. I love your large feet."
"That's good to hear," I said. "Maybe next time I will let you lick them."
"Thank you, Sir."
I took my dick out of my boxers, already half erect. "Suck it!"
He leaned forward, looking up for a moment, making eye contact with me, as if asking to confirm that he had permission, instantly making me harder, and then he took my 9" dick into his mouth. I felt his tongue wrapping around it, as he slowly took it in, deeper into his mouth and into his throat. My dick was already harder. I pushed his head down further, to show him how far I wanted him to go. "I want to feel your lips on the base of my dick." That required more effort from the little guy. He was already gagging a bit. I didn't rush him, but continued to push him down further. He finally got it right and I felt my dick enveloped inside his throat. I placed my hand on his throat and I could feel my dick pushing against the walls of his throat from the inside, up and down.
Then I saw that he started jerking himself off. I flicked his hand away from his little hard dick with my foot. "This is not about you, boy!"
He mumbled "I'm sorry, Sir" and continued sucking. With my left hand I reached to take an ice cube out of my glass and rubbed it against his dick. That made him jump, completely surprised. He whimpered, but he didn't resist, and I guided his head with my right hand back onto my dick. I could see he was trying to persevere through the cold from the ice cube. When my dick was deep in his throat again and his dick lost some of its hardness, I let go of the ice. I patted his head, "good boy. Now suck faster."
He increased his pace and I was getting ready to cum. I got out of the armchair and started face-fucking him. Now I was dictating the pace and it was fast and deep. He gagged and drooled but did his best to persevere. A few more seconds, drilling deep into his throat, again and again, feeling him hungry under me. Finally I fed him my cum, as my dick pulsed and I came into his throat. I held his head with both my hands, making sure he doesn't dare pull out before I'm done. Finally I was. With my dick still inside his throat, I grabbed his throat again with my hand and commanded, "swallow." That great feeling of the walls of his throat closing on my dick as he swallowed my sperm!
I pulled my dick out. His face was a mess, covered in spit, eyes a little bloodshot. I patted his head again and told him "good job." I took a little hand towel from a drawer underneath the coffee table and wiped off my dick. Then I handed it to him. He was still for a second, but then used the towel to wipe his face off. "You can go rinse off in the bathroom. Use the folded towel by the sink. Then we'll have a quick chat and you can go."
"Uhh, yes Sir," he said and walked away in the direction of the bathroom. I heard him turn on the faucet, water running, then stopping, and he walked back out a moment later, stopping only two feet away from me, looking up at me.
"Did you have a good time today, boy?"
"Yes Sir," he replied.
"Good. I want you to be happy to serve me. Just remember it's not about you," I explained.
"Yes Sir! I'm very happy to serve you, thank you for letting me, Sir," he said.
"You're welcome, boi," I replied. "There should be no confusion. You don't cum in my presence and you don't even touch yourself without my explicit permission! Your upleasure should come from serving me. You'll get used to it and learn to love it. Understood?"
"Yes Sir," he replied. "Umm, may I ask something, Sir?"
"Sure."
"So, Will I never cum when I'm with you?" he asked.
"Don't expect to." I replied. "If I ever let you cum when you're with me, it will be on my terms. Again, your pleasure will come from serving me. Your arousal will come from having my dick in your throat or in your hole, from being used as a vessel for my cum and my piss. You will feel joy from knowing that you made me happy. Gradually you won't even feel the need to feel your dick in my presence, though you'll be very happy to feel your holes used and filled. If I ever let you cum in my presence, it will probably be while I'm using either of your holes. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir, thank you Sir. Ahh, but Sir... Piss? I've never done that."
"You will," I asserted.
No response. He lost eye contact, looked down at the floor.
I stepped forward to hug him and he looked up, embraced me.
"Yes Sir," he said, pressing his lips against my chest, just above my tank top's cleavage.
"Good. Next time you arrive, you're not allowed to cum on that day. You can jerk off at home after you leave, but not before our meeting. Got it? I want you eager."
"Yes Sir."
"Good. You can go. Don't forget anything."
"Yes Sir, thank you, Sir," he said. He walked to the front door and got dressed. He looked back at me one last time, then opened the door and walked out.
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