Chapter 3
By the time we got to his door, I was stepping pretty gingerly over the stones and breathing heavily. Before he put the key in the lock, Bobby turned to look at me and smiled. "Breathing heavily, are you? It pleases me that you surrendered to what I wanted even though it was a bit difficult on you. You're learning your place, faggot." And with that he planted a kiss on my forehead but then salivated quite a bit and his spit started spilling down the side of my nose. He raised his hand and lightly tapped the side of my face. "Don't you look nice, my queer boy." Then he kissed each of my cheeks and did the same thing. By the time he was finished, my face was practically covered in his spit. "Don't touch yourself," he warned in a threatening voice. "I want you this way. It's all part of your education. It pleases me to see your face covered with my spit."
I don't know what kind of a school I was on the verge of entering, but it certainly wasn't like anything else I'd ever learned in school except for the time that the Brother who taught us in 7th grade got pissed off and gave each one of us ten shots on the ass with his own thick strap. I remember that I got hard when he brought me up to get my whipping. He noticed. After he had finished me off, as tears were coming down my cheeks, he whispered to me, "Next time, I'll take your pants down and do it the right way." And I was terrified. And yet, how many times did I jerk off thinking about that day over the years? Why was this coming to mind now? Was Bobby going to beat me naked? I was beginning to realize that part of me actually was looking forward to it. Holy shit! What was happening to me?
He opens the door but doesn't let me enter just yet. He stands in the doorway and turns his back to me. "Climb on," he says, and I jump up onto his back. He grabs my legs from under me and carries me into a large and beautifully arranged bathroom. He sits me in a chair and brings a large tub for my feet then pours in warm soapy water to which he adds some powder without telling what it is. "Soak those feet for a bit, baby," he says. Baby? First time he called me that. Hmmmm... Then, surprising the daylights out of me, he kneels on the bathroom floor before me and, taking two soft cloths, proceeds to massage and wash my feet, getting a few gasps out of me, partly from pain and mostly from shock, as he tends to me like a loving parent and I'm sitting there feeling like a little boy getting my tootsies washed sweetly by Daddy.
He looks up and winks at me. "Don't let it ever be said that I don't take care of a boy after he's had a hard time." All finished, he gets up and takes a soft towel from the closet, kneels down again, pulls the tub of water away and dries my feet with the towel, paying special attention to drying me between the toes. This action seems so intimate that I feel as if I'm being violated in the sweetest of ways. "So now you know how to take care of feet," he says to me. "Always clean between the toes. Stand up now, please," he says, taking the tub of water and emptying it into the toilet and flushing.
"Strip to your underpants," he says and stares as I do his bidding, "Yes, I like seeing you strip yourself for me," he says. I'm still hard in my boxer briefs but pays no attention to it at all. Then he takes off his own pants and I can see that he fills his dark red boxer briefs very nicely even though he isn't hard at this point. Once I've stripped, he tells me to kneel before him and take off his shoes and socks. I do so. He stuffs the socks into the shoes and puts them aside. "Now you've learned how to take care of feet, correct?" "Yes Sir." "So would you like to take care of mine the same way to show me your gratitude? "Sure, Sir, I'll take care of your feet for you."
"Good boy. Proceed," he says. I turn to fetch the empty tub but he stops me. "You don't need a tub filled with soapy water to clean my feet," he says, gently, looking into my eyes and his eyes feel like magnets locking me in. "You can use your mouth to clean my feet, boy. Don't forget to clean between the toes." And he sits there just staring at me and he looks so awesomely beautiful and his face is staring into my very soul and I hear him saying to me without uttering a word, "Use your mouth and your tongue to clean my feet, boy. Do a good job or you'll be punished."
And I kneel there looking into his face and although every drop of sense in me tells me that I should refuse. But I keep looking at him, and he looks so commanding, so sure of himself, and I realize that even though I felt like a little boy a while before, now things have changed. Bobby is the Master and I am the slave. The thought paralyzes me. I remain motionless.
He waits patiently. He knew this would take some time. "Take a couple deep breaths, boy. You can begin by just using your hands to massage my feet. You know how well it feels because I did that for you. Now you do it for me, boy. Massage me well. Toy with my toes. Get to know them." I reach out to do his bidding and he smiles at me. "That's a good boy. Getting acquainted with my feet. Soon you'll be ready to taste them as well. Take your time, boy. I'm a patient man. And oh yes, you're making my feet seel so good with your fingers. I can't wait to find out what it feels like when you're licking and sucking my feet the way I want you to."
Even my mouth betrays me as I find myself salivating as I bow before this awesome godlike man. Slowly, I bend down and put my mouth to his foot, drooling on it. I lick up my drool and continue, putting each toe into my mouth and sucking on it, cleansing it with my tongue. There is a faint scent and a tiny bit of bitterness, but it all seems delicious to me and I remain bowed before him and suck each toe as if it were a cock and lick carefully between each toe of each foot, then return to his right foot and lift it up so I can lick and suck the bottom of his foot all around to the back of hit heel and then back again. With my fingers I massage the foot I've just cleaned. I'm trying to manufacture more saliva because my mouth has gotten very dry now.
He notices. "You're getting dry, boy. Open your mouth," he says, and I obey. He puts his mouth to mine and salivates into my mouth and I am lubricated with his spit. I surprise myself as my mouth utters the words, "thank you, Sir." He lightly touches his other foot to my face and I turn to that foot and perform the same task there, feeling as if I'm being nourished by the scent of his feet and the taste of them as I lick them clean, having trouble believing what I'm doing and also having trouble believing how good it's making me feel to serve him this way.
"This is good practice for the way you'll serve my cock, boy. You're doing well. Go now and drop your briefs so you can piss into the toilet. Keep your legs spread very wide." Before I can sit, he lifts the toilet seat, so I'm really spread as I sit on the bottom part of the toilet, close my eyes. Damn, it's hard to piss with someone watching me this way, but finally, my flow begins. I look up and see that Bobby has taken his own magnificent cock out of his own drawers and he begins to piss into the same bowl between my legs, and as he is pissing and looking over me he smiles a wicked smile. "Piss is fun," he says to me. "Shit is not." I find myself nodding my head in agreement. He slaps my face. Hard. I just sit there and take it. "Make it a habit to thank me when I give you pain," he says to me. "Thank you, Sir," I reluctantly say to him. "hmmm... he says, I think we'll need to be doing some attitude work. But not today."
I hear a bell ring. As I stand from the toilet, he reaches down and I thought he was going to help pull up my boxer briefs, but to my surprise he takes hold of them and pulls them all the way down off me and taps my feet so I raise them until I am standing there completely naked before him. He goes to retrieve his own clothing, puts on his pants and shirt, takes me by the hand and leads me out of the bathroom, through a well-appointed living room to a closed door. He opens the door to reveal a lovely dining room with pictures of attractive men on the walls. Supper time, he says to me, and hands me a bowl. The meal is some kind of a chicken dish in a lovely fragrant sauce. I put some in my bowl. "Take a bit more," he says, and so I obey. "Take your bowl and sit there," he says pointing to a chair which has a black cushion on it. I do as he says, but then I notice that no utensils are set out for me. I look about, noticing that utensils are at his place. Perhaps his staff didn't know he'd have a guest here. He takes his food and sits next to me. "Go on," he says, gently, "eat your supper." "Sorry, Sir, I don't have any utensils." "He smiles at me with this damn smile of his that says "I know my place and I'm teaching you your place, boy."
"I use utensils. You don't need any. Eat right from the bowl, boy. Don't make a mess or I'll take you over my knee much sooner than I intended to. Go on. Let me see how nicely you can eat for me." fuck! Like a goddam dog? I think. Suddenly it seems as if he can read my mind, that I can keep no secrets from him at all. "You are not a dog. You are a boy. My boy. You eat the way it pleases me. Just as you walked here barefoot and cleaned my feet with your mouth. It's all part of the same scene. Just surrender your fucking pride, boy. Look at you. I'm sitting here dressed while you are bare-assed naked. I eat like a man. You eat like my obedient boy. You can show your status to me many different ways, faggot. Get used to it."
What have I gotten myself into? And why aren't I running in the opposite direction. And damn it, I'm hard as a rock. Bobby notices it. He takes his big spoon and raps it a few times hard until it starts to go down and I holler out but then back off, fearing I've just angered him. "That's fine, boy. I enjoy hearing your reactions to pain. It pleases me. But I see I'm going to have to outfit you with something that will prevent you from getting hard all the time. It's very rude of you. Especially when you're naked. I have no interest in seeing your dick. You're the one who wants to see my cock so often. We'll have to go shopping tomorrow for some equipment." I have no idea what he's talking about, but I'm sure it will probably be unpleasant and yet very satisfying in that dark place deep within me.
I finish eating, at least as much as I can suck from the bottom of the bowl. My face is a mess. Sauce covers my mouth all around, like a child's moustache after eating ice cream. I put the bowl down. "But you're not finished," he says to me as he reaches to the bottom of the bowl and scoops out what is left there. He puts his hand to my mouth. "Open and eat," he commands and I suck and lick the food off his hand. Then, using his hands, he wipes the sauce off my lips and feeds that to me as well. Once I'm all clean, he looks me over and nods, then takes his hand and slaps me four times, back and forth across my face, the hardest ever. "Next time I'm sure you'll do a better job and not make such a mess," he says. "Thank you, Sir," I answer, surprised at myself for that unplanned act of humiliation.
"Take our dishes and put them on the counter there. The staff will clean up. This time. Eventually, you'll do that for me."
I do what he says. It seems that hardly a couple minutes go by before I learn something else about what he's planning to demand of me, Resistance arises from within me, but then I remember what he told me before. If I fail to obey or try to chicken out, things will be over between us. No way! I still haven't felt his cock in my mouth. That's what I'm hear for. All the rest of the stuff is just the price I have to pay, I guess. and I'm paying it willingly. And it feels good to experience the way he so deftly belittles me. For some reason, when he teases me and treats me like his slave, it feels good inside. It feels right. This is what I've been yearning for, but I never realized it before.
(To reader: I have a pic of what I imagine Bobby looks like f you want to it, just ask. specify .jpg or .pdf The pdf file is extremely large).
Please write me and let me know what you think of this new story. subkodak25@gmail.com
Here are the other stories I have posted, with the dates where you can find them:
The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022 Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023 Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023 Brandon's Brothers 5/19/2023 Total Subjugation 5/25/2023 Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 Training Toby 12/31/2023 Breaking me in--current
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