Hey, everyone. I'm Tony: Master Dom's sub. Master told you a little bit about me and our story. So, he let me read it, and even though it may get me in trouble, I'll augment some of what Master wrote, and tell you more about our story. It took me a couple of days because, well, that scene Master was telling you about, where I was tied up and gagged, and he added the weighted clamps? He fucked me after that, which I knew he was going to do. He fucks me just about every night. I'm not complaining: Master's GOOD at what he does. It just means I'm sore a lot because, like he told you, I have a job where I sit most of the day, and when you begin your day less than 12 hours after a big thick nine-inch pole has been inside you for anywhere from half an hour to two hours, you need some recovery time when you can get it. For me, that means sitting as little as possible until things feel better and hoping that you get some time before Master wants me again. Like Master said, I started out as a bottom. And I was late: my sophomore year in college in fact. I think I'm still a little geeky, but I was a true, all-out geek back then. I think I was trying to hide that I was gay from the rest of the school: all the guys who were out seemed so polished, and so well dressed and all that. I didn't even know that there was something called "geek-chic", and it was a turn-on for some people. Henry was one of them. He was my first. I met him at one of those god-awful college plays that most of you have gone to. I didn't have a ton of money to go to Broadway shows, so I got my "theater jones," taken care of on campus. At intermission, I was just standing around, reading my program, when this tall, thin, dark-haired guy wearing a big pair of glasses came up and stood along side of me. He leaned over and whispered into my ear: "I just want you to know, I'm not leaving here tonight without you. My name is Henry." He smiled and then went back to wherever he was sitting. I gulped. I hadn't had any sex since I got to college: again, probably trying to hide things, and here was someone who saw through everything and had propositioned me. I thought he was kidding.
He wasn't. When the play ended and I was leaving the theater, I saw him standing by the exit, smiling.
"You thought I forgot you, didn't you?" he asked me.
"Uh, well, yeah. I thought you were kidding."
"Where do you live?" He asked me, and then "OH SHIT, YEAH. What's your name?"
I answered both and he grinned. "I was in that dorm when I was an undergrad here. Cruddy place. Let's walk. I'm 3 blocks away."
"Wait," I said. "What are we...?" He started laughing. "You really that naïve, Tony?" He saw me blush, and his mouth formed a big "O."
"HOLY VIRGIN MARY. I picked up the only virgin at this whole damn university."
"Hey, wait," I said. "I don't think that's true." Henry started laughing again.
"What's not true? That I picked you up?"
"Uh, no, that's true."
"Uh huh. You ARE a virgin, aren't you?"
"THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS" I blurted out. Three people turned. I had been very loud.
"It sure is if you're coming home with me. Are you, or aren't you?"
I felt my cock getting hard. He looked, well, sexy to me. He had on a leather jacket, and I had a thing for them (still do).
"Yeah, I'm coming with you."
"Well, then, you better let me know if I'm right or not because." He moved over to a dark corner and grabbed my hand, pushing it into his crotch.
"There's a big, long wand for you and even experienced guys have trouble taking it. If you're a virgin, I have to proceed carefully."
"YOU'RE NOT FUCKING ME," I was loud again. When people looked, I blushed, and Henry laughed.
"Maybe not tonight, but yeah, I am. Eventually."
I went home with him and yeah, eventually he did. It took about two weeks of dating him. Trying to suck his cock. Jerking off together. Curling up in bed with him. Then the night when he said "It's tonight, Tony. Kiss your Italian rosebud goodbye."
Looking back, Henry probably wasn't any bigger than Master is, at least when his cock was outside of my ass. Here's the difference: Henry was definitely a "grower," but he needed to be inside my ass, or I guess anyone's, for it to grow. He had been conditioning me with bigger and bigger dildos until I could take 9 inches easily, but when he went into me: GEEZ he felt bigger than nine inches. Master, on the other hand, like with everything else about him, is "what you see is what you get." First time, I knew that he had the thickest cock I had ever taken, and with the exception of Henry, probably the longest.
Henry was voraciously horny, but he was also real busy with finishing up a dissertation. I spent a lot of time at his place for the two years we were together, but mostly, I'd study my own shit, or play on my iPad, stuff like that. Eventually he'd look up from his books and say something like "get undressed, tony," or "I need my cock sucked. NOW." I was with Henry for about two years, when I graduated. I was going home for summer, and I asked him "can I see you again when I come back?" (I had been accepted to law school at the university and I'd start in September).
"Nope," he said. "I'm defending in July and then I'm off. Got a position teaching at a college in Maine. We had some good times, Tony. Take care. Hope you find a good boyfriend."
Well, mom used to say that "everything works out for the best," and I guess it did. I had heard stories about how horrible the start of law school was. They don't do it justice. I never got enough sleep, I was never prepared enough, and I sure didn't have the time to go out cruising, or to find a boyfriend online, anything like that. I really didn't have a boyfriend through those three years. But as soon as I finished, and took the bar exam, I became, essentially, a whore. I had a job waiting for me in late August, and I took the money I had saved from high school jobs and other stuff, including summer clerk earnings, and went on a trip to Europe: I saw Germany, France, Italy, and Spain. And I screwed around with at least a couple of men in each of those countries. I always bottomed. I had no complaints and there were times when I had to silently thank Henry for getting me ready. I never had a cock as big as his throughout Europe. Everything though, was clearly casual. One friend told me that I was a "24-hour husband," and I guess that's right.
Well, I was all of 25 and horny. GOD was I horny. The city was filled with places to go, and of course, there was always the internet. Along the way, I had discovered the gym, and because I'm a quick study, I saw how European men dressed. I copied them. My geeky body filled out and I showed muscle. I bought better clothes. I "manscaped." There WAS the issue of my big nose, and I thought about having it done. My first boyfriend/lover when I was circulating again convinced me not to.
"You'll be the one in control, Tony. At least until you get in the bedroom. People are going to want to talk to you. They're gonna find you fascinating looking."
"Fascinating," is what he said. "Fascinating."
"You find me fascinating, Clifford?" I asked him. Clifford lacked a sense of tact.
"Hmmm, no. I find your face fascinating though. And your ass."
I stopped returning his calls. And there were a few short-term relationships after that when I bottomed. Things changed when I got a call from one of my friends from college: one of my "straight" friends. Jeff: the sexy, curly haired pre-med with a baritone voice.
"Hey, it's Jeff," he said. "You remember me?"
"Of course, I do," I was smiling. I had a crush on him through college: doesn't every gay undergrad have one for at least one straight guy?
"Well, I'm on a break from med school. I'll be in town for the weekend. I wonder if you wanna have dinner."
I sure did. And I really, REALLY thought it was just dinner. The restaurant -- a Chinese place we had gone to when we were undergrads -- was 30 blocks from where I lived. When we finished, and I was getting set to shake Jeff's hand, he asked "mind if I walk home with you?" I didn't. I had always found him sexy, and I thought he was even sexier now. It took us about 40 minutes to get to my place and again, I was set to shake his hand when he asked, "aren't you gonna ask me up?" He had his hands thrust in his pockets, and he looked SO DAMN CUTE.
"You want to?" He grinned. "Maybe for just a little bit. We never resolved that pillow fight."
AH, the pillow fight. I didn't think he'd remember it. Junior year. Friday afternoon. He was visiting, and we were having coffee I had made on my hot plate. I don't remember what we were talking about, but he picked up one of my bed pillows and hit me with it, smiling. I looked at him.
"Did you do what I think you just did?"
"Yeah, I did, and I'm gonna do it again." He hit me a second time. I charged him and knocked him back on my bed. "YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THAT PRE-MED BOY." I was on top of him, and he was squirming. He was going to get out from under me and I started tickling him. He HOWLED. "STOP! STOP! Tony, I can't breathe. I can't breathe. "I looked at him. He was sweaty and his eyes. I remember those eyes. "Here goes nothing," I thought to myself and kissed him. He kissed back. Then we began some serious necking and rubbing. "You wanna strip down?" I asked him.
"Yes," he said, and I got up to let him get his clothes off. It didn't happen. "Sorry, I'm getting cold feet, Tony. I shouldn't have done that." He gathered himself together. "I need to and study. Take care."
"WOW, "I thought to myself. "Jeff is a serious closet case. Even though I was in some sort of relationship with Henry, I mooned over Jeff every day. And nothing ever happened. And now, it seemed like it would.
I brought him up to my apartment. He looked around. I came up behind him to take his jacket. Then I asked. "You want a drink or something?" He smiled and began opening his shirt. "Race ya." Well, it didn't take long before we were continuing where we left off after that college pillow fight. We were both hard, and we were both wet from sweating and from each other's saliva. He whispered: "I always wanted to know what it felt like to get fucked by a man. You up for it, Tony?" I really wasn't. I had never topped in my life. But I had learned enough not to tell him that.
"You sure you want this, Jeff?" He smiled. "Enough to have walked thirty blocks, Tony. Gimme what you got. "He rolled over. He wanted me to take him doggy style.
His head was in my pillows, and I don't think he saw me make the sign of the cross. I was so hard that, well, I got into him, and thrust about a half dozen times before I lost control.
"That wasn't as bad as I thought," he smiled when I was finished. "Can I spend the night?" He did. And in the morning, I took him again, only this time it was better.
We went out for brunch after we got cleaned up and when we left the restaurant, he smiled. "You're wicked in bed. I enjoyed you immensely. Much better than the other guys. Take care." And he was gone. I thought about what had just happened: someone had told me I was a good top. And I had enjoyed it. Yes, I had to get my emotions under control, but... I could do this.
And I did. Now, with my better developed body, and my better sense of confidence, I went out looking for guys who wanted to get fucked. Now, that guy's comment about my nose made sense. I can't tell you how many variations on "Hey. Anything else as big as that schnoz of yours?" I got. And if I had been a whore before, well. I was a downright slut after that. Until I met Joseph.
Joseph worked in a bookstore. He was about as tall as Henry was, with big horn-rimmed glasses, bushy hair, and a sweet, sweet set of lips. I met him in a bar. He looked very uncomfortable. I walked up to him and said "you look like you don't want to be here."
"Well, I don't" was his reply.
"Maybe you'd like to spend a little time with me?" He shrugged his shoulders.
"Sure. Where are we going?" That night it was for dessert. A few dates after, he WAS dessert. And I was very happy. I was fucking him regularly, and while he wasn't the best cocksucker I've ever had, he was ok. Then one day he came to my place and sat down. He looked very nervous.
"Tony, I wanna talk about the sexual part of our relationship."
"Oh, ok," I answered, fully expecting him to say he wanted us to flip flop a little.
"I want to stay together but...I don't want to have sex anymore."
"HUH?" was my very surprised answer.
"I don't know how else to put it but, no, no more sex."
"You want to top, Joseph?"
He laughed. "No, not really. I hate topping. I tried it. I fell off the guy."
"Well, you can try again."
He shook his head. "No, it's not for me."
"And you don't want to bottom? You want to have sex with someone else?"
My questions were frustrating him. "TONY, I don't want to have sex, PERIOD. I don't like it." I was a little shocked. We had been together for at least a year.
"I need to think about this, Joseph. "I paused. "If you want to stay, one of us can make up the sofa." He shook his head.
"No, I'm not going to stay. Call me tomorrow, Tony. I know I just unloaded on you."
I didn't call him the next day. Or the day after. Finally, he called me, and we had a very civil discussion, and I told him I didn't want to see him anymore. I felt truly betrayed. There was no other way to put it.
And that began what my friends call "Anthony's period of monkhood."
I had heard about "pot and cover" as some people called it. It had started as an event for people who were looking for dates, partners, etc, but were trying to avoid the sexually charged atmosphere of bars and clubs. Then it had gotten bigger and bigger and now, the number of tickets they sold for each even was limited. "You should GO!" friends kept on telling me. "What could it hurt? COME ON! Just give it a try." And I was interested, but I didn't want to go alone. Have you noticed that when friends encourage you to do something, if you say, "Let's do it!" they're always too busy or they cancel at the last minute, or something like that? Well, that's how it was with me. The day I was supposed to go with four friends, each and every one of them called me during the day and cancelled. "Something came up" or "I'm not feeling well," yadda yadda. I didn't want to go alone but, well, it had been months since I had done anything but shoot into a handkerchief, and Sundays were always the day that Joseph and I spent walking around the city, eating at new places, etc., so those days were always particularly "blue" for me. I'd go to the gym, or I'd work for a few hours, and it didn't help.
"Well, you never know" I told myself as I got dressed, trying to look "sexy but not too," got into a cab, and made my way to the hall where the event was taking place.
I have to say that I hadn't really given any thought to what "marker" I wanted to use to identify myself: top, bottom, or versatile?
I had been told that bottoms outnumbered tops at these events by about 3:1, and I think that was an understatement. I'm glad I avoided that one. And I really didn't want the hassle of having to take charge, so "top" was out. I bit the bullet and got the versatile sticker. I began walking around, chatting with people. There was one guy who was especially beguiling: that's the only way to describe him. His name was Claude, and he was visiting from France. He was a student (strike one against him), but he was tall (there was a plus), and he had thick curly hair (another plus). I was enjoying the conversation I was having with him, and his "touchiness." Claude was a very "touchy-feely" guy, and as he was squeezing my arm or putting his hand on my chest, I realized how much I missed just plain old human contact. Then he mentioned that if I'd wait for a minute, he'd bring over his boyfriend and maybe we could go some place before heading to their or my place. I made an excuse about not being able to stay out that long and began mingling again.
You know how sometimes you have a feeling that you're being watched, or stared at? You can't explain it but YOU KNOW someone's got their eye on you. Well, I began to feel it. I try not to engage those feelings when they happen, but I looked up this time. Yeah, it was Dom -- he wasn't my Master yet, so I'll just call him Dom.
If you had put together a list of all the characteristics I look for in a partner, you'd find none of them in Dom. I like sleeker guys, younger, tall (ok, it's not hard to be taller than I am, and Dom IS taller), generally smooth. And there was Dom with his white face hair, his muscular body, clearly older than I am, and I was totally transfixed. I looked back. I can usually outstare anyone, but not Dom. He kept his eyes locked on me and he smiled. Finally, I gave up and looked away. But I was smiling. Don't underestimate being objectified. Sometimes it feels good. And it did. Even if, well, there was no way I was going home with him. Then he came over. There was "something:" call it animal magnetism, call it his smile, or perhaps (and I may be overthinking this), I felt "this is the man who could control me." He was extremely confident, almost cocky, and Dom's story of how things happened after that is spot on.
I know what you wanna read about and here it comes. That first blow job. Well, from messing around, I knew he had a thick one. HOW thick was something I had no idea about. It had been so long since I had sucked someone off, I didn't know if I could manage one so, well, HUGE.
Dom made sure that I would manage it one way or the other. My hair is cut short (and Master Dom makes sure I keep it that way), so he couldn't grab that, but he did grab the back of my neck and push me down on that dick. "MMMMMMM" I remember thinking. I may have even said it, neither one of us remembers. But yes, I did bring him off, and yes, I did do that tacky thing about taking a souvenir. As they say at the racetrack "AND THEY"RE OFF."
So, I'm probably going to get disciplined for this, but I'm going to tell you more. I'm going to tell you about the first time Dom fucked me. We had been dating for a little while, and our plan was to meet up and go to dinner, then hang out. I was horny, and bluntly, I wanted to get laid. So, I wore those white jeans that I knew Dom couldn't take his eyes off, and a dark navy twill shirt: let's call it a "more butch" version of the pink one I had been wearing on our movie date. We met at my apartment. Now, I should tell you something that Master left out of his story. I love clothes. I love picking outfits, dressing up, etc. Master is careful about picking what I wear now (yes, he chooses). In contrast, he had a basic outfit: a wifebeater t shirt, usually worn, and faded jeans. Yes, he'd change before we'd go out, but that's his standard outfit. With a cap. And that's how he came to my apartment that night. My cock started throbbing as soon as I opened the door, and when he pushed me up against the wall and began Frenching me, it was getting harder and harder.
"You look good enough to eat," he whispered before he began rubbing beard against my ear, and before I began to moan. He knew what that did to me, and he just kept it up. He whispered "Know what I wanna do to you tonight? I wanna tie you up."
We had talked about this, Dom, and me. I had never been tied up in my life, and it just didn't appeal to me.
"I don't think so, big man," I smiled. "Not this boy." He smiled back. "OK, if you give me a minute, I'll get myself all nice and pretty for tonight." He kissed me, smiled, and went into the bathroom.
I was sitting at a chair, looking at some papers I took home from work when I felt him grab my arms at the elbows. I was strong enough to resist what I knew he wanted to do, by stiffening my arms.
"I always get what I want," he told me. I think he was almost laughing.
"Not this time, Dom," was my answer, and I held my ground. I told you earlier that I was a regular gym goer, right? And I'm pretty strong: gym strong. Dom's got muscles from working and as I found out that night, and as I find out over and over, he can handle me without too much trouble. When I wrist wrestled, I could usually wear down an opponent with my ability to resist. I tried that with Dom, and it wasn't working. His strength wasn't lessening at all. My grunts, and my squirms and my pleas to "let me the fuck go," weren't having an effect. Finally, I broke.
"OK. You win. This time." I relented and he pulled my wrists behind me. I heard him chuckle just a bit. I felt the ropes tighten around my wrists and then his chin was leaning on my neck, gently scraping as he whispered "You're gonna love it. Especially after I gag you."
"HEY WAIT. YOU DIDN'T. MMMMMMMPH." As I was to find, Dom really likes using gags. He's got a huge collection of them. That night he used a bandana gag, just shoved into my mouth, and tied behind my head. He's used different ones on me. The one he uses when he wants to discipline me severely is the ball gag, because I drool with it. I hate the feeling of the drool on me. When he's REALLY being severe with me, he'll make me wear it when I'm dressed because getting drool on my clothes? GROSS.
So, there I was, tied tight, gagged, and then Dom came around and looked at me. He was smiling this really, REALLY wicked smile.
"You look so fucking hot tony. SO FUCKING HOT." He pushed a knee up against my hard-on, and I let out a moan that probably would have disturbed the neighbors if I weren't gagged. Then he moved his fingers up to my nips. He had figured out that my left nip was more sensitive than my right one, but he played with both of them. He was silent for a minute and then he said it: "I wanna FUCK you, Tony. I wanna take your ass." I shook my head NO, and after I did, I wondered WHY I had. Getting fucked by this animal was what I wanted most in the world at that moment.
"That's not the right answer, Tony," he smiled and pushed his knee in harder while he kept working on my nips. Then he asked "you wanna get fucked?" This time, I didn't answer. I didn't shake my head, I just moaned.
"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION. YOU WANNA GET FUCKED HANDSOME?" Dom pushed his knee in HARD and slid it sideways. One of my shirt buttons opened and he got his hands directly on my nips. I was on fire, and I shook my head "yes."
"GOOD. It's gonna be VERY easy for us BOTH to be happy. Let's go." He pulled me out of the chair without untying me and led me to the bedroom.
"I'm gonna untie you Tony, but let me be clear about something, ok? I'm in charge now. You good with that?" I wasn't quite sure what he meant, but I was ragingly horny, so I said "yeah, I'm good with it."
"OK. Now let me get to work." He climbed on top of me and nudged my head out of the way so he could lick my neck and my ear. He would make what one friend has called "yummy noises" along the way, especially when his teeth pulled on my ear lobe. "You like that, handsome?" He asked and I just moaned. I really, REALLY did. Dom moved his mouth down and he nibbled on my chin before he began opening my shirt.
"GOD, I love your chest, Tony. It's so GORGEOUS." His scruff rubbed against my pecs and then he began kissing my nipples. My whimpers were like a kitten. He stopped and smiled. "Want me to chew them? Hell, why am I asking. I'm chewing those suckers." He started with my right tit and exaggerated the slurping sounds. I couldn't remember the last time I was in such sexual ecstasy. Then, something happened that should have been a hint for what was coming. I couldn't help myself and I tried to embrace Dom. He grabbed my arms and pinned my wrists to the bed.
"What did I say, Seb? Did I say I was in charge?"
"You did, but..."
"But nuthin'" (I SWEAR. He said "nuthin'" not "nothing"). "If I'm in charge, I'm in charge. GOT IT?"
I shook my head and he smiled. He kissed me. "Learning how old man Dom works can take some time. You'll get it." With my hands back in place, his scruffing down my torso continued. I began to wonder if I was going to be able to control myself in the future or was he going to have to tie me down?
"Your cock just jumped Tony. What's going through your head? Did I hit a hot spot?
"No, I'll...I'll tell you later. I think you might already know." He laughed. "I see rope in your future, stud. That's all I'll say. Now, l followed the map, let's get to that treasure chest."
The "treasure chest was my crotch. I had kicked off my shoes when I got on the bed and now, Dom was opening my belt and sliding off my jeans.
"So damn tight. Hard to get off. Don't get looser ones, Tony, I like how these show your ass. But don't blame me if I rip them off you once or twice, heh heh." He looked at my boxers.
"You wear a real man's underwear. I like that. Easy to get them off ya too." And then they were. After I was naked, with my cock pointing up in the air, he stripped. There it was: my "Cock Everest." Yes, I had taken it in my mouth but now..." I said very softly "it's been years since I've been fucked, Dom." His answer was "well, that's about to change."
That answer pointed out the main difference between the two of us, and I think it's why I adore him so much. I already told you: I overanalyze and "what if" everything to death. I second guess, third guess, fourth guess my choices. Dom does none of that. No second guessing, no wondering "what if," nothing. He never said, "I'll take it slow," or "Tell me if it hurts, "he just said in a roundabout way "you're getting fucked." Then he made a concession.
"I hate using lube, Tony, but I will tonight. "I saw him pick up a small tube that had fallen out of his ratty jeans and he lubed up where I could see it. I was licking my lips. "You can taste it tomorrow, boy. Tonight, you're just gonna feel it." Then he pushed my knees up. I closed my eyes, and when I felt his cockhead against my hole, I took a deep breath. Dom didn't react other than to push my cheeks apart a little. I felt that massive head hit the nerves and then I felt it sliding in.
It was -- I hate to use a word the kids use -- awesome. I mean, Henry was longer, no question about it, and Dom is so thick it took some getting used to but...Dom is a Master for a reason and that first time he plowed me is going to stick out in my mind forever. He never asked, "you good," or "you hurting," but I could feel him looking at my face. I heard his breathing and the small stop in breathing as he pushed in further.
"I'm all in. Start riding me, boy," he said. I didn't even think about it when I answered, "yes sir," and began to contract my glutes and to try to slide back and forth.
"YESSSSSSSSSSSS. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" he hissed. "Want a good time? Don't fuck a boy, fuck a MAN." I wanted to say something back, but I didn't think I should. He began teasing my nipples again and I was moaning really, REALLY hard.
"I bet you wanna cum, don't you?"
"I do, Dom, I really do."
"See if you can do it without touching your dick," he grinned and then ran the back of his finger over my cockhead. I'm surprised the lights didn't crash from my scream.
"OH SHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT" I couldn't believe what was coming out of me. Had I ever had an orgasm that big? No. And had I ever felt a gush of cum as strong as the one that filled my ass after I had shot? No to that too.
"I'm gonna stay in as long as I can, bud," he said to me, "because you've got the hottest, tightest ass this top has had in a long, long time. "He lay down on top of me and this time, I embraced him, and he didn't protest. Instead, he whispered "thank you."
So, that was our first time. Master Dom just put his big paw on my shoulder and said that recalling that first time was making him very horny. I should get into the bedroom and slip my wrists into the restraints (yes, we have them now). I was going to write about how Master Dom found out I was ticklish, but he told me he wanted to tell that story. We haven't decided who's going to write about when I surrendered to him, but it's hot. I'm getting hard thinking about THAT, and since now we have a rule that I don't cum unless Master Dom has, I better get myself under control. Master will be back to you soon. Thanks for reading.