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The next week was grueling at work. I still made the gym every morning and doubled up on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. But one thing I did not have was a lot of free time. I ran across my new property working out one evening and responded to his beaming smile across the gym with a stoic head nod. Other than that, there was no communication. At some point I might make him express his new status in the gym, but not yet.
On Saturday I prepared for his visit by donning my most worn-out jock strap. It’s a traditional bike but it’s tired, has a hole in it, and some cum stains. It’s also the most comfortable and, as it’s a bit stretched out now, accommodates me even with a chub. Over that, I wore my snug-fitting old jeans, my black biker boots, and an orange polo shirt. Under the short sleeves, I wore thick black armbands. They are adjustable and I had a plan for their use in the hours ahead. At 9:30 sharp the doorbell rang.
I let Kevin in and brought him immediately out to the garage. Inside was my black 530i, a bit dusty, but certainly not filthy. I would usually take it to the car wash, but now that I had staff I figured I should be letting him take care of that too. I opened the garage door to the alleyway and then passed him the keys.
“Move the car into the alley. Then do a complete detail on the car…inside and out. Understood?”
“Yes sir, of course, SIR. You can rely on me. Thank you SIR!” he deferentially replied.
I always find it to be stimulating watching a guy, whom I have turned out, go through a personality change. To be submissive, there is a change in the tone of voice but also the very manner of being. Everything about him now screamed submission, but this one did it without turning all fem. It was an intoxicating mix of, hmmm, self-respect and Alpha worship. I could also tell, from the slight flush on his face, that he was also experiencing the intense sexual thrill that came with such subservience.
“The hose is just out to the left and the cleaning supplies are on the rack over there.” I said, gesturing toward the left side of the door.”
“And faggot, do not fuck up my car.”
“Of course not sir. It’s a beautiful car.”
“It is. When you finish, put the car back in the garage, everything else away, lock up, and come back in the house. Clear?”
“As crystal, Sir.” “Good.”
Once back in the house, I went ahead and finished up some work from the week, called a friend to catch up, and generally kept an eye on the cleaning in the alley. Unsurprisingly, he really put his back into it. This was also the first time I got to observe him to any extent. While not jacked, he was lean and well-proportioned. A good frame and it occurred to me that if he just put his mind to it, he could be reasonably hot. But of course, that’s not who he was. I debated in my head if I should train him up, or make something of him, but before I reached any conclusions he was done. It had only been about 3 hours, but I could see in that time he’d done a good job. A few minutes later I heard the garage door close and then he came into the living room where I had the game on.
“I’m finished Sir”, he said meekly. His demeanor showed his need for my approval.
“Do I need to inspect your work?”
“Sir, I don’t think you do. I understand what you expect of me now and as an owned faggot my efforts will shine through.”
“OK then, follow me.”
I stood and walked to the bedroom and then the dressing area. I’d had this area built out after I bought the place. It was kitted out how you’d expect with hanger rods and a shoe area. Along the side toward the front, a large mirror embedded into a cove in the wall was flanked by shelves above and drawers below. It was large, 8 by 6 feet and the area was well lit. Sometimes I practiced posing here so it was more than just a dressing area to me. I stood and looked in the mirror, my faggot next to me. I was bigger than him not just in height but also in pure mass. He looked so small and weak, but again, I noticed that he was not in nearly as bad shape as I remember him being.
“Kevin,” I used his name to establish some normalcy. I wanted the starting point of where we were going today to contrast against it. “Have you been dieting or something since we met in the parking lot?”
“Sir, yes, I’ve been on a diet and also have been training every night. I know that looking the way you do, fitness is important to you. I’ve taken it upon myself to get into better shape…for you.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Take off your shirt.” He complied, pulling his damp white graphic tee over his head exposing a hairless but lean torso, small chest, reasonable shoulders, and arms.
“And the pants,” I added.
As he removed his shoes, socks, and pants, I could see that his proportions were indeed well-balanced. He was a smaller guy, on the geeky side, but not fat, or anorexic…a nice bonus given the situation.
“I appreciate that you’ve thought about this. Fitness is important to me. Come here.” I grabbed him by the shoulder and then kneck and pulled him in front of and to the side of me. “Tell me what you see.”
“Sir, I see my Alpha. I see a real man.”
I chuckled.
“And what what do you see in front of me?”
“Sir, I see…a faggot?”
“Heh…yeah…but think harder. What else do you see.”
He thought a little, looking at the situation. Trying to figure out what I was asking.
Finally, he piped up, “Y…your property?”
I raised an eyebrow again. “Exactly. My property.”
I roughly turned him so I could get a better look at what I was working with. I turned him sideways, slapped his ass and legs, and pushed him further around so his ass faced the mirror, I squeezed that also and roughly grabbed his neck. I really manhandled him here to show him exactly how strong I was, who called the shots, and how easily I could physically control him. I pushed his head up so he was forced to look into my eyes. I just glared down into them for several seconds. Then turned him back around to the side and stepped over further, rotating 1/8 of a turn so I was facing him at an angle. I pulled off my shirt, exposing my massive hairy torso, but left my boots and jeans on. He could now see the armbands around each of my biceps’ although I suspect he had seen that something was going on earlier when I caught him checking out my arms. Reaching up with my left arm, I rotated my right shoulder forward and began unstrapping the band on my right arm. I did it slowly, looking into my faggots eyes intermittently…making him feel the dynamic, the domination, the ownership.
After releasing it. I stepped toward the mirror and rotated 1/4 turn more. With my back now partially to the mirror, he could see my back and I could see his front. I opened the armband and began fitting it around his neck. I could see him wince and his eyes went wide as I moved him further down the path that he had chosen for himself just one week earlier.
My massive armband fit easily around his neck, without looking like a dog collar. I don’t get the dog thing. As I said before, if you don’t have a fetish, you won’t respond to it, and I did not respond to that one. But even though I don’t respond to a particular fetish, I’m well aware of how others can and I’m perfectly happy to exploit that crack…any crack. You see domination is always about getting into somebody’s mind. If my little faggot found the concept of being reduced to a dog enhanced his submission and thus solidified my hold, then I would certainly be prepared to use it.
I pulled the strap through the clasp and pushed the metal pin through the hole in the leather and then pulled it tight. I stepped back, around, and slightly behind him. I was now in a single leather armband, wrapped tightly around my bulging left arm and he was in the other armband, wrapped snugly around his neck.
“How do you feel.”
“Oh, fuck, Sir….I…”
“Looks like you’re a bit excited,” I said, nodding down to his fully erect cock tenting out his white jockeys.
“Oh, fuck.” he looked down and could no doubt see that he had a bone and was already starting to leak into his jockeys. He tried to cover himself but I swatted his hands away. He responded by standing more at attention and straightening his gaze forward.
I grabbed a black leather leash with a clasp at the end of it and attached it to the improvised collar.
“OK, now, let’s get this straight. You are not a fucking dog. Understood? You are a faggot, but for today, you will learn how to behave just LIKE a dog, and for that, the collar is part of the training.”
I began pushing him down onto his knees, with us both sideways to the mirror. I made him look.
“See that faggot? That’s your place.” I yanked at the chain slightly to show him I meant business. Repeat after me, “I am an owned faggot.”
“I am an owned faggot.”
“Again.”
“I am an owned faggot.”
“AGAIN!”
“I AM AN OWNED FAGGOT, SIR!!”
“Good faggot, now, take out my cock.”
“Yes SIR!”
He undid my belt and the buttons of my fly and sniffed softly, getting near enough but trying hard to not do something he did not have permission to do. He lowered the flaps of my pants slightly and then pulled my jock to the side until my rapidly stiffening cock was free and clear. This time he lost control though, leaning forward enough to kiss my chubbed-up pole with his soft lips. I yanked the chain.
“Faggot, you will listen for orders. You will wait for my cue. Is that clear?”
I bent down getting my face closer to his.
“Well, is it?”
This position drove him crazy, I had noticed last week. My handsome face, right in front of his. My shoulders dominated his visual frame of reference, my arm holding the leash tight.
“Yes, SIR! I, sorry Sir,” he looked down. “I just forgot myself and I’m so horny and turned on. You can’t imagine how hard this is for me.”
“Is that so? Faggot, how often are you masturbating?”
“Sir, every night…and sometimes several times a session. I just have had no luck controlling myself. I feel like a monkey, just jerking his dick uncontrollably. It’s distressing to me sir as I feel like you would disapprove. But thoughts of you and our meetings overwhelm me at times and so I just have to go and jerk off so I can get some work done.”
I stood back up and looked down at him and rubbed my jaw. “That’s going to change faggot.” I paused, and thought for a minute. “This week, you will shop for a cock cage. You will do it in person, not online. Do you know what a cock cage is?
“I do sir…but in person?”
“Yes, faggot. This is what you signed up for. This is an important part of your development, your training. Go to a sex store and buy a cock cage. Fuck, they might even need to help you find the right size. Careful not to get too manhandled, you hear me?”
“Yes! Oh sir…fuck….” He looked down but I could sense he was turned on by this prospect.
“Make sure you’re comfortable in it faggot, because you are now going to be in one 24/7. I want you to take the first two weeks to get comfortable with it. Wear it for an hour the first day and then extend it a little bit each day. If you get chaffed, fall back for a day or two and then begin again. I would recommend you choose a black one in soft plastic, rubber or something similar, but it’s your choice. There will be an inspection to make sure there is no way for you to get out of the cage without my permission. Is that clear?”
“Yes, but, I mean, all the time?” He asked in a way that begged to be commanded. His question wasn’t one of hesitation or resistance, but rather a craving for another dose of sexual heat that came with the humiliation of submission that I was giving him.
I slowly tightened my grip on the chain, forcing the band around his neck to constrict slightly. I held it a moment and said, “Yeah faggot, all the time.”
He gulped and I could feel his throat expand as he did. I saw he was rock hard. I smiled and continued, “After a few weeks you’ll only notice it if you start to get hard. But it will keep you from jerking off that pathetic excuse for a dick you’re walking around with. Again, who owns your faggot ass?”
“You do, Sir….Fuck!”
I glared down at him. There was something about the way he said ‘fuck’. He’d said it more than once now and it was very satisfying. It was part humiliation, part elation, part erotic turn-on. It also clearly indicated that he had every intention of doing what I asked. He was not the type of guy to say one thing and do another. He had character.
As I thought on this more I realized that I had just taken some of this scene out of Saturday playtime…his faggotry was now leaking out from our sessions and into the real world. I could see his trepidation, but he was also excited beyond belief. I knew the humiliation was pushing him down. Making him even more obedient. But I also knew that shutting down his ability to achieve sexual release would push him to serve with more devotion. Up to now, I could still see that part of him was trying to maintain some control. That had to go and taking away his freedom to jerk his own dick was a good way to put him under my thumb…just a little bit more. And I knew that as a faggot, that’s where he desperately wanted to be.
Now, the reality was that his dick was totally normal in size and shape. But I wanted this faggot to know what this thing he wanted felt like. To feel the inferiority that a faggot craves. I also had nothing to lose. This was my game and I intended to play it the way I wanted. If he didn’t like that, too bad. But I also wanted to clear the air at this point too. This was all before the “Me Too” era, but I still knew enough to be careful here.
“Faggot. How do you serve?”
“Sir?”
“How. Do. You. Serve?”
“Oh, right, I serve at your pleasure, Sir.”
“That’s right. But I want to make one thing crystal clear. If you find yourself in a position where you are uncomfortable, unhappy, or are just done with this, you may request that I disown you. Is that clear?”
“Oh, I…,” he looked up at me and then looked at me in the mirror, and then back up at me again. “Sir, thank you for saying that.”
I chuckled, “It does not mean I will approve the request, faggot.” I said sternly but then after a second, I winked at him. I think in the moment he sorta shit himself a little bit. He had not expected that angle to come into the equation. An emergency exit meant he could go even further down the path. I wanted that to be understood, but it had the side effect of only making him more worshipful.
“So, faggot, tell me what your goal is for the next 2 weeks.”
“Sir, I will purchase a cock cage, in person, and begin training my pathetic cock at being locked up so I do not just spend all my time jerking off.”
“You are a quick study, aren’t you faggot?”
“For you, yes Sir.”
“Good, I’ll be away next weekend, but you will still drop by on Saturday morning and do your chores. Understood?”
“Yes sir.”
“You may come at a time that is convenient for you, so if 9:30 does not work, do not worry about it.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
I slid my hand down the chain so all the slack was again taken up and my hand was right up tight to the improvised collar, pinky side closest to the leather.
“Open up faggot.”
“Yes sir…”
He opened his mouth wide, tongue reaching forward but I stopped him just short of my cock.
“This time slow, soft and wet. Understood faggot?”
“Yes sir,” he replied and I pulled him down onto my cock. He had tightened up a bit from the previous weekend’s skullfucking but he was still as motivated as ever. After a few cursory fucks into his throat I stopped him to reiterate today’s lesson.
“Faggot: Slow. Soft. Wet.” I used the collar now to control the amount of cock he could take and let him concentrate on my head, flange, and really just the last 1/4 of my cock. On and off, on and off….I pulled and pushed his mouth up and down the end of my cock as he swirled his tongue. He seemed adept at the wet part particularly, which was not surprising I suppose. He seemed to produce a slick wet slime almost on demand, with no notice and no warm-up.
“Better. A good cocksucker can get a man off using just this much dick. It seems antithetical, but solid work at the end is the most important part. I know your throat is already aware of this, but now I want to train your mouth. Understood?”
He nodded his head as his mouth lightly suckled on my dick as it slid smoothly in and out.
“At’s it…get a feel for it faggot…you don’t have to rush. The slightest of motions can be the most intense for a big dick.” I cooed as I watched my faggots mouth stretch wide around my fat cock. His lips stretched thin as the fattest portion slid through then slightly plumping as the tension dropped. His eyes laser-focused on mine. He was indeed a fast learner. After a few minutes of this, I bent forward, my left hand coming to the base of his head as my right hand swung down and slapped his ass. While not muscled or phat, his ass was perfectly shaped, small, and tight. More of a young jock’s ass than a man’s. I slid my finger up and down his ass crack as he quietly whimpered.
“Faggot, have you been fucked before?”
“He tried to answer, but my cock had slid all the way into his throat with my ass slap and there was no understanding him now. I stood up and pulled him back off me by the leash.
“Again.”
He huffed slightly, “Sir, I…I have…but…”
“But what faggot?”
“Sir, I’m scared.”
“Heh, yeah, You should be. But I promise to go easy on you…to start.” I pulled him up by the leash and turned him slightly sideways toward the mirror, at a slightly less than 90-degree angle. I walked over to the corner and pulled over a wooden chair. It was an armless Windsor but had a nice sculpted seat and a solid coat of varnish. It was a stable foundation for the things to come as its feet grabbed the rug on the floor of the dressing area so as not to move. I sat down, grabbed the leash, and pulled the faggot back to me. I reached over and opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. “OK faggot, ass training begins now. Are you ready for your first lesson?
“Sir, yes SIR!” He said back, halfway between a new recruit and a frightened puppy. I could see he was lost in the erotic thrill of his fagging so far and the excitement of what was to come.
“Heh…nice touch pussy boy.”
I lubed up my hands and began massaging the taint and hole of my new cum dump. I could see him close his eyes as I began, enjoying the feeling of my large hands moving over his cheeks and then in short order the first of my fingers working into his hole.
In a perfect world, I’d have started with him licking my boots and then undressing me from the waist down, but I was horny to fuck. I also knew that sitting there in my old jeans, which were clinging to my quads and calves (outlining them perfectly), and my boots, I was dominating him psychologically. I was just so much bigger than him and sometimes gear makes things even sexier. I watched his eyes as they looked in the mirror, darting around my body as I worked him slowly.
“Sir, please. I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Faggot, shut the fuck up. Do you LIKE being fucked?”
“I…well…yes sir, very much so. But I just don’t think…”
I knew his protests may have been real, but I also knew that a small hit of sexual dominance would lubricate his mind. “Shut the fuck up! It’s not your job to think. You’re here for your skills and your holes. You got it? “
“Yes but…”
“You’ve done a good job filling your responsibilities, now I’m going to do an even better job filling you!”
I pushed my index finger roughly into his hole causing him to moan softly. I let the fingers on my other hand tickly around his taint and watched as he swayed lightly. “Like that pussy boy?”
“G…G….God yes….” He moaned as he lost himself in the heat of his true sub-nature—A nature that I had freed.
“Faggot. Let me be clear on one thing. You will not be touching your cock at all during this session. Your job is just to feel me through your hole. You will respond only from my dick fucking you. Only through my cock drilling out your fucking cunt. Understood?”
“Yes Sir!” He shot back.
Roughly I pushed another finger in, twisting the two of them gently to stretch out his tight puckered hole. I pulled him back a little so he was facing the mirror dead on now and both his legs were between my spread knees. I slid forward on the chair, held him more tightly, and worked his tight puck good. In and out with long slow strokes of my fingers. Then I started to push a third one into him. Again, slow, relentless, and steady.
“Oh…God…sir……your hands….ohhhhhh……” He moaned. I kept him stable but the onslaught was more work for him now as he adjusted again to the increased tension in his sphincter…and the intensity of the scene. His view was now of my muscled arm around his waist, my shoulder at his side, and my thick neck around his back. I worked him like this for a while as he slowly got used to the assault on his soon-to-be resized hole.
After a time, I released him and pushed him slightly out from between my knees. With my left hand, I now grabbed his entire cock and ball assembly as a handle, right at the root, and used it to push him backward onto my now deeply pistoning fingers. Now, my hands are big, big even for a man of my size, but he was taking it well. I knew that he wanted it and desire can go a long way when you want anything physically challenging. That said, there was no way he was going to take a fourth finger. It would just be too much and fingers have bones and are not exactly the right shape. I knew moving him onto my cock as soon as possible would be in order. Still, I hung out for another few minutes, working his hole digitally—pushing my fingers in slowly as my other hand pushed and pulled on his cock and balls. I looked over a few times to see him thrilled to be taking this pleasure, with just the occasional whimper or groan.
He was definitely from some sort of repressed religious background and probably had all the hangups that would bring, especially to his freak. I pushed him slightly away from me, slid my fingers out, and rotated him, ass first, between my legs.
“Ok faggot….I said as I released his cock and balls and began to lube my cock. “You know where we’re going now. Look at my cock.” I sneered. He looked in the mirror at my throbbing bone. My huge pole of a cock was bobbling slightly to the beat of my heart.
“It’s show time faggot.” I grabbed his hips and pulled him back. Steadying him and holding the base of my cock. I aimed at his now slick ass and puck but stopped short of impaling him. I could see his little puck was spasming now. The lips and hole, contracting and relaxing in a slightly frantic manner. I knew that, even if he was mentally not quite ready, his whole was very eager to swallow whatever it was offered. I watched for a moment or two and began pulling him slowly back onto me. As soon as my cock was correctly targeted and beginning to enter, I released the base of it and I brought my other oversized hand to his hip. I pulled him gently down.
He grimaced a bit but was able to take the start of my cock well. But he ran out of, hmmm…elasticity, before I got very far. “Oh, Sir… it’s too….much…” he moaned as I pushed.
“Just relax there faggot. Stay right on the end of my cock. Get used to it stretching your little hole open. Now you know how last weekend’s guest felt, don’t you?”
“God, yes! Oh shit….you ruined her.” He exclaimed.
I smiled, “I’m going to resize your ass the way I resized her cunt…and your throat. When I’m done with you you’ll only be satisfied by a real man’s dick. Got it? You’re going to crave it.”
“Oh Sir…I…oh god….my poor hole is just so over-stretched….”
I let him pause here for a minute then pushed him up off my cock completely. I reached into the open drawer, retrieved a bottle of poppers, and then stood up. My arms went over his shoulders and pulled him against my chest and abs. I turned my head and made him watch as I unscrewed the cap. Then wrapping one arm over his shoulder and around his chest I held the bottle before his face, my cock pressed into his lower back.
“Ever use poppers before, faggot?”
“No sir, but I’ve heard of them.”
“Are you on any blood pressure or E.D. medication?”
“No sir.”
“Good. So you’re the perfect candidate. Here we go.”
I held the bottle right below his nose. “Just breathe normally…that’s it……Good……How you feeling?”
“Ohhhh….It stinks…but ohhhhh….a little….light headed….”
I saw his eyes slowly grow wide. His pupils dilated slightly and had a glazed look. Yes, he was ready. “That’s right…yeah…you’re feeling it now. Just hang tight….” I pulled the bottle away. He smiled, gazing in the mirror, looking a little drunk…, “Good, try again.” I held the bottle in my hand, using my thumb this time to close one nostril while I held the bottle straight under the other.
“Take a quick sniff.”
“Sniff…” he swayed a little and blinked a few times.
“Ohhhhh……ffffuck…my head……it’s…ssssspinning,” he sighed with that goofy smile, showing me my fag was flying high. I switched hands and did the same thing to his other nostril. He swayed a bit more but I steadied him.
“Good faggot.” I put the cap on the bottle and sat back down. I aimed my already throbbing cock back at his perfect pink puck, “Here we go faggot. Just relax.” I said, but honestly, he was chill after the poppers. I started pushing again and his ass easily, almost greedily, started to part. But as I got deeper his anal ring began to resist again. With my cock wedged in, I whispered louder. “Cummon faggot, relax and let me in. You know you want this, you piece of crap.” Adding some domination to up his internal brain temperature.
His slightly blurry eyes opened. He looked at me in the mirror and took a deep breath as his drug-addled brain took in the situation. He kept on it, sucking air in and blowing it out slowly. I pushed on his out-breaths and got the widest part of my cock through his tight ring with nothing more than a short gasp. “Ooooo,” he moaned as he gave it up to me for the first of many times to come.
”Getting bred,” he grunted as his delirious eyes looked into the mirror at my big dick buried halfway into his ass, but with enough of the beautiful base still glistening in the light. His entire body seemed to shiver with pleasure as I thrust deeper into him. He was in fag heaven. Collared and leashed by this dominant Alpha whose cock was half buried in his fag-hole.
“Yes, I….ohhhhh……” he mewed.
I grabbed the bottle again and as he slowly slid down my shaft I reached up and around him. Watching in the mirror, I pressed it into his nose again. “Take a bigger hit this time, buddy. You’re getting so close now. Just a little more.”
“Oh…I….sniiiiiiiiiiffffff…” I felt his hole relax again as he took a longer hit. I was 3/4 of the way into him when he suddenly accelerated toward the root. From the look on his face, he was really enjoying the feeling of my slick dong sliding into him and, in no time, I was all the way in. I put the bottle back and wrapped one arm around his torso and under his chest while I used the other to hold the leash tight. My mouth right behind his neck and ear.
“Good dog. Feeling good now, aren’t you faggot?”
He just nodded.
“I’m not going to move an inch until you tell me ur ready. Just keep taking deep breaths and let me know if you need another hit or anything else. You feel me?”
“Yes….sir….I’m….oh fuck…I feel you….god, how I feel you….”
“That’s a nice little cunt you got there. Just take it easy. As the poppers wear off you might feel like it’s too much. Just tell me how you’re feeling.”
“Ok, sir…”
And so we sat like that for a few minutes letting his ass get used to me inside of him. By now his eyes were rolled up all the way into his skull. Like he was looking inside his brain at the cock that was mind fucking him. His body was slightly moving on my dick but under his own power, just real short motions up and down. My goofed-out faggot was scrubbing his own prostate on my cock, as he uttered a series of mewings and gasps. My cock was in a serious throb by now, his hole squeezing around the base of my dick, making it swell—like a human cock ring and cunt all in one. Every so often, I gave him a couple of hits to keep him chill. I was about to pound the hell out of him and I wanted him in the best condition to get fucked by me. As hard as it was, no pun intended, I needed him to get used to my tool before I got my nut. I wanted to pound him out, but this was not that guy…yet. He may be a devoted faggot, but he was not physically relaxed enough for any kind of athletic sex yet. “After that quiet time, I started to push him forward, sliding him off my cock. He winced at first but once I was halfway out I smeared his hole and my cock with additional lube. Then I slid him back down….real slow. He just let out a long slow groan…a good groan…as my meat slid in deep and punched up into his gut. He shivered.
“Oh, SIR…oh god….yes….”
I pushed him forward again and repeated the entire process, his lubed ass now slick and relaxed and full. I watched as his quivering ass lips stretched and spasmed as I moved slowly in and out. His hungry ass wanted some cock, but now it was clearly on overload. Still, I loved how it looked like it was gobbling down my cock. From the sounds he was making, he thought the same.
“Sir….feeding my hole… feeding my faggot hole…with cock…” my blissed out boy mumbled.
“See faggot, your ass is a natural cunt for Alpha dick,” I whispered as I began to push and pull on his hips.
Innnnnn….ooouuuuuttttt……innnnnn……ouuuuuuuuttttt….
I kept on him, real slow and gentle. The distended veins of my thick cock bumped over his prostate with each stroke, the ridges on my shaft rising higher on the out stroke as his cockring ass forced blood to expand my veins even more. Innnn……ouuuttttt…innnnnn……ouuuuutttttt.
“Oh, god, sir…I…oh….I can feel every inch of you….I’m….OH FUCK…. INSIDE ME.……SIR…. YOU’RE… YOU’RE….ON SOMETHING…OOOOHHHHHHHH….” My blissed-out faggot moaned.
“Yeah, I’m on your bitch button with my shaft faggot. That’s the thing that’s making you crazy right now. And the head of my cock is punching through your second sphincter…did you even know you had one?”
“Oh…oh god…no…I….oh sweet….fuck….I’m….”
“Have another look faggot.” I said as I motioned to the mirror.
He looked over, my hands now firmly holding his hips and sliding him up and down my shaft like some sort of very fucked up meat puppet. The contrast of our body sizes was apparent as I manhandled his whole body on the end of my tool.
This is where a long dick shines. Guys with shorter dicks tend to make up for it by fucking with short fast strokes. When you have a big dick, you can use the whole length and really stroke deep and slow.
“You ready for some more cock, pussy-boy?”
“God, yes…please….I’m so horny for you….”
I pushed all the way in, then lifted up and walked him slightly forward, him taking some small steps as my babymaker spasmed and throbbed inside him. I pushed the chair back and, now standing, could increase the assault on my boy’s overstuffed hole. I held back a bit at first, not pumping him as hard as I could, but he was just fucking begging by now.
“Oh, god…yes…fuck…getting………used….”
“Yeah, you like that cock, fuckboy?
“Oh, please, sir….yes….I think…so good….I’m just…so good….I…I think….Oh fuck…I’m going to cum…”
“Faggot, you will not cum.” I said.
“Sir, I can’t stop it…can’t hold it back…I’m sorry…cumming…NOW….” He yelped.
I pulled him up to my chest, my hand going to his hip as I whispered in his ear, “Are you faggot?”
He looked down as I looked in the mirror. I felt his hole and prostate spasm, but nothing came out. Nothing at all. A dry cum. He looked down. “Oh fuck, what’s happening??”
“Faggot, I did not give you permission to cum.“
“No!!! What…how….oh god…so good, but fuck…I’m….there’s no….”
“Yeah, there’s no cum.”
What my fuck-hole didn’t realize was that when he told me he was going to cum, I pulled my dick back so that the thickest part of it was positioned over his prostate….I stopped there and pulled him to my chest, putting his cock more on display but also changing the orientation of my tool in his hole when his hips rotated. That mashed my dick into his prostate blocking him physically from cumming. Of course, that’s not what he thought. He thought I had even more control over him and his mind reeled at the suggestion.
“Oh fuck…you’re fucking controlling my faggot junk……from inside my head? You’re mind fucking me??? ”, he said with excitement, his eyes again rolling back in his head at the delight of being completely used by me and my cock.
“I am fucker…I am…” I responded. I stood there with him, my arm around his chest holding him up vertically so my shaft could continue to block him from ejaculating. After about 30 seconds, I relaxed and began a slow assault again. This time I took the leash in one hand and kept my other on fag-boy’s hip. I rode this ass this way, slowly at first, getting him again use to the motion but I quickly picked up the pace. I used the leash like a reign and with my other hand on his hip could completely control his body and position while sliding my hips forward and back, and my cock into his now over-stretched cunt. Like a bucking bronco, I turned this heifer out, my dick drilling his gut like a fucking pile driver. He was a rag doll now and so opened up he could easily take my harder thrusts with total abandon. He was about to be a twice-owned faggot…or, if we include the hand job, I guess the equation would be,
= faggot(owned)3
“At’s it faggot, getting another hole used? Resizing you good. Bet you’re wondering how you’re going to sit down to drive home.”
“Ohhh…I’m….fuuuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkeeeeddddd….” He groaned, his body flailing wildly. I poured it on again, but my not yet fully trained faggot started to boil over almost immediately.
“Oh, Sir…I’m…… it's too much…I’m losing it again….I’m going to… Again, up pulled back on my dick and up on his torso blocking him from ejaculating. His eyes were wild now, so full of sexual frenzy that I was sure he might actually be losing his mind. I held him there again solidly as he convulsed.
“Oh…fuck… it….oh I’m…. it’s not….again….can’t….cum……so fucked….so owned….” He babbled, as his balls drew up and his fag cock tried to shoot but again nothing happened as his ass clamped down. His ass-lips cinched tight around my thick, smooth, and greasy cock.
“Yeah, fucking stopping you again pussy boy. Guess you never thought you’d go this far down. That I’d have this level of control over your pathetic body. Did you ever think you’d get used this hard, faggot?
“No…I…this….so good… never ohhhhhhh…I’m your fucking faggot, Sir, please use me hard…don’t stop…pleeeeaaasseeeee……”
By now, his eyes were completely out of focus, his pupils still dilated. His engorged shaft was waving about and leaking, angry at the two cums that had been thwarted by my stiff dick. His cock now drooling like a gooner in heat. The veins along my cock throbbed as I fucked his hole again, picking up the pace slowly so his dick would not immediately try and cum again. By now I had total control. I’d short-circuited his ability to shoot any load without my permission physically, and that physical training was now starting to inform him mentally. The only expression on his face was one of pure bliss. As I bred his formerly tight puck, he soon began making a series of incoherent, gurgles and whimpers. My power-rut had reached the point of intensity and duration that he was becoming fully cunted by my cock sawing over his prostate and punching his second ring. So much pleasure was coursing through him that he’d never be the same again. Cock would be the thing that completed him, mind, body, and soul—My cock. I had to smile as I fucked. My faggot had lost all rational thought. He couldn’t even form words. If his brain had been some type of computer, smoke would’ve been pouring out of his ears, the circuits completely frying out. It was time to go the last bit of distance. I had been building a load in my own oversized balls for over an hour and a half now and my dick was so stimmed up that my desire to jizz was greater than my desire to continue using the tight hole around my cock. When I finally shot into him, he let out a mindless howl of sexual excitement.
“I’m gonna fill you up so much you’re gonna taste my cum at the back of your throat. You want that, right boy… cause you’re my faggot, “ I teased. “Yeah take me deep. Fuck…yeah…CUMMING….NOW!” I roared, my jazzed cock slammed deep into his holes and over his prostate. “UNGGHHHHH, YEAH! That’s my spunk seeding your guts, fuck…yes…Cum for me faggot! Shoot that load…HARD!!!” I grunted at him.
“OHHHHHHHHH….fuck…I’m….oh……CUMMMMMIIIIINNNGGG….EEEEeeeee…” He squealed back.
He looked at his cock in the mirror as it started to unload like a hose. The first few shots were thick and heavy. He then looked at me in the mirror, totally frazzled with sexual frenzy as his balls continued draining. His junk, now free of both mental and physical restriction, offloaded a massive load of faggot spuge. A goofy spastic smile appeared on his face as he drained. It partly reminded me of someone who had gotten drunk on too much booze but also partly reminded me of my conquest the previous week as she face-gasmed after I pounded her out. It was quickly replaced by a blank look on his face. From that look it was clear, no one was home. I stepped back and sat back down on the chair, my muscled frame covered in sweat. His own body was also soaked and still impaled on my pole. We both rested and caught our breath for a moment before I pushed him slowly up off my still-hard cock.
“Sqeeze down faggot…I do not want you making a mess. You hear me.”
“I…I…I….” My thoroughly shorted-out faggot concentrated on his hole as he slid back up and off my still-rigid pole. He immediately collapsed onto the floor. A pile of spent twisted flesh. I went to the bathroom and showered for a good 15 minutes. When I came back he was still on the floor but had rolled onto his side.
“Ok faggot. You can go now. You know your assignment this week. And take that rug with you and have it cleaned. Clear?”
“Yes…Sir! But….can…could I shower sir?”
“Fuck no! You go home sticky, slick, and full of my seed. You can clean up on your own time.”
“Fuck!” He groaned.
I smiled seeing how those words caused his shaft to ooze a glob of postcum while still throbbing about in the air. Used, but not used up.
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