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I Like Hitting You - Part 9
Master told me that he didn't care that I spent a night as a frat house sissy, but something was different between us. Maybe he was just preoccupied with his new girlfriend, who was both incredibly beautiful and the daughter of one of the most prominent businessmen in our area. He seemed to be quite taken with her, much more than the half dozen hot young women that he would be fucking at any one time. Or maybe he was getting wrapped up in his training. My Master, who had been trained as a boxer since middle school, was going to take his first fight in mixed martial arts (MMA). Besides an impressive string of Golden Gloves championships as a kid, he became a black belt at 20. That sounds like enough training to jump into anything, but Master said that he would be at a disadvantage in MMA if he didn't learn more grappling techniques.
So Master was working with his clients for eight hours a day and training for eight hours a day, much of the time with a scary looking Brazilian dude named Antonio. This man was six foot tall and must have weighed 240 pounds, all muscle. They would wrestle and try to get the other to "tap out" through a submission hold like a neck choke or twisting of an arm or leg to the point where if the person doesn't tap the other, something gets broken. My Master, of course, refuses to tap out. The way he explained it to me, he'd rather have a broken arm than submit. When Antonio got Master locked into a submission move during their practice session, he would immediately break the hold and they would replay each successive move to teach my Master what he did wrong. My Master said that once he learned the "ground game" he would be all set. Antonio was much more encouraged. He said that with my Master's abilities in boxing, karate, and street fighting, that once he learned the ground stuff he could be one of the best nationally. And Antonio would know, because he was a national MMA champion when the sport first hit the scene a decade ago.
My Master's looks and personality certainly aren't going to hurt, either. He's 5'11" and a sculpted 170 pounds, but can get himself to 155 as a fighting weight. His wide shoulders taper down to a slim waist in an incredible "v" shape. His legs are perfectly formed and seem to be made out of iron cables. I think I mentioned what his ass looks like when he first presented it to me for servicing -- perfectly shaped, all muscle. His gorgeously handsome Italian features will make many female fans swoon, and other men seem to be drawn to him too. I've been helping out at the gym a lot, since Master has no extra time with his new training schedule. His first fight as a pro MMA fighter was in six weeks.
One of things that was different between Master and me was that he hadn't used me sexually in two weeks. He explained to me that fighters in training don't have sex, because it weakens them for the fight. I know that he had a few dates with Amanda, but I also knew it wasn't my place to question why it was OK for a fighter in training to have sex with a woman, but not a male bitch. He was allowing me to give him massages daily, sometimes once in the morning and once at night. He also allowed me to do all his domestic tasks, like food shopping, laundry, cleaning, etc. so he could concentrate in his training. I took over the administrative tasks at the gym too, and I was in the office doing billing late Friday night while my Master and Antonio finished up a session. Master came in his office, shirtless and sweating profusely, and grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge. "You get your results yet, boy?" he asked. I took a piece of paper out of my shirt pocket and handed it to my Master, head bowed. He looked at the paper and smiled brightly. "Excellent, bitch. Shower up and meet me in the gym, naked, and bring some lube and rubbers" he ordered as he went back to the gym to wrap up his training. The results were an STD test from the local Planned Parenthood clinic. Sitting in the waiting room with a bunch of young college girls, I wondered how many of them had some of the same college cock inside them as I had the night in the frat house.
I showered and douched quickly, lubed myself, and walked out into the gym area totally naked holding a rolled towel with the condom and lube inside. Master and Antonio were in the ring grappling, and Antonio turned to look at me. He started to say "What the fuck" when my Master grabbed his arm in what I later learned was called an "arm bar," eliciting a pained moan from the distracted Antonio, and then a tap out. Master released the hold, then jumped up off the mat and offered a hand to his trainer. "I told you he was my slave, Antonio, and I figured that since you had to burn a Friday night to help me train, I'd offer you some head or ass if you wanted," Master said. "Bitch, go get my friend an ice cold Corona and me an ice water. And they better be fucking cold." I spun around quickly and ran into the office. "He moves his candy ass real quick when you tell him to," Antonio said. I came out with the two drinks some food that I had prepared earlier. I presented them their drinks as they stood aside the ring, and began to set up the food tray on the ring apron. I looked over at my Master.
"You got permission to talk bitch," he said. "Master, I knew you might be training late, so I prepared you some food. This is a turkey breast wrap, with no mayo, some steamed green beans, and rice. I made the rice Brazilian style, in honor of Mr. Antonio," I said as I bowed my head. Antonio laughed heartily and my Master smiled. "Now that's one obedient bitch," Antonio said. "You ain't seen nothing yet, Tonio," my Master said as they dug into the food and drink. I scampered into the office for another round of drinks, and knelt off to the side as they watched some video of their training session. They finished up their food, and Master turned to me. "Get up and go into my office and bring me my bag," he ordered.
I handed Master my bag, and he ordered me to clean up as he looked into his bag. I cleaned the food away and went back into the gym to see my Master twirling a pair of handcuffs around his finger and pointing to the floor. Antonio was sitting to the side with his beer, his feet up on a chair. I rushed to my Master and fell to my knees. "Hands." I reached up and presented both arms to my Master. He clicked on the cuffs, and walked around me. "This little faggot slave was given one night off as a reward, and you know what he did, Antonio? He hustled up a fucking game bang on his faggot ass, in a fucking frat house no less. How slutty is that?" Master said. Antonio began laughing loudly. "That's pretty fucking slutty, bro," he said. My Master walked behind me and kicked my left buttock hard with his bare foot three times. "I totally agree, Tonio, and tonight's payback," my Master said seriously as he circled around me. He began kicking me hard in my right buttocks. "This little fucking faggot was lucky enough that I allowed him to serve my big dick something every faggot in town would give their every last possession to do and this faggot was lucky enough that I was the man to break in his cherry ass but no that wasn't enough for him was it. That same night, he found a dozen boys to use him like a fucking cum dumpster." His last kick wasn't hard but it was perfectly placed on my balls. I scrunched up on the floor in agonizing pain, as Master and his friend laughed.
I lay on the floor in agony for five minutes, a mess of both physical and emotional pain. That kick to the balls was outside of the parameters that my Master and I agreed to originally. Once I composed myself, I looked at my Mater. As usual, he knew what I thinking. "I'll give you ten more of them if I want, bitch. You're my fucking slave. You get that. Fucking slave. Those aren't your balls, they're mine. Your time is mine. Your stuff and money is fucking mine. And most of all, your mother fucking ass is fucking mine." My Master was so angry when he was finished he was practically shouting. Master turned around and told me to open my mouth. I did and he put a small object in it and told me to close my mouth. "That's the key to the handcuffs your sucking on, bitch. If you don't accept me as your Master one hundred percent, crawl the fuck out of here and never come back." I put my head close to the floor and spit out the key, and turned to my Master and gave him my "permission to speak" look. He nodded and I said "Master please forgive me. You hurt me with that kick harder than I have ever felt in my life. I didn't think a kick to the balls was a punishment we agreed to in the beginning, but I fully accept you as my Master and acquiesce to your judgment as to what type of discipline I need and deserve." I slid over so that his foot was right under me and arched my back and presented him my balls for more kicking. Master turned, walked into his office, and walked out tapping the wire hanger into his hand.
"You ever use a wire hanger to keep a bitch in line, Tonio? A wire hanger gets the message across very fucking well <whack.>" All three shots connected with both sides of my ass and my scrotum, placing me in excruciating pain. I fall over in pain and writhe on the cement floor. "Present your ass to me slave bitch. Now" my Master yelled at me. I put my ass back up in the air and arched my back. Master them hit me along the top and middle of my ass with the hanger over and over, and never on the fleshy part. I guess he figured it hurt more there (he was right, as usual). After about forty smacks, he ordered me to stand up and spread my legs. "Tell me what you need, faggot." Despite all the incredible pain, or maybe because of it, I'm amazingly in sync with what I know my Master is thinking. "Please kick me in my useless sissy balls as hard as you can, Master," I plead as I brace myself, knowing how hard my Master can kick from holding the heavy bag for him during his workout. Master jumped up, spun around, and sent a reverse spin kick toward my midsection. The shot landed lightly at my abdomen, sucking some air out of me, mostly from surprise. "You know I could have that kick wherever I wanted, right bitch?" he asked me. "Yes Master you are as beneficent as you are magnificent, Sir," I heard a loud laugh from Antonio. "What did this piece of shit say you were, Bro?" he asked. "Beneficent is just another way of saying I'm really good. My bitch has about a hundred different ways to tell me how great I am," Master said, laughing. "Well you certainly did a great job fucking up his faggot ass with that hanger, Bro. I've spanked a few bitches in my day, and I've even had a few fag boys pay me to use them like little girls, but I've never seen anything like that," said the big man and he walked over to me and began pawing and slapping at my ass. "That actually turned me on a bit. So does this faggot give good brain?"
"If he didn't give the best, do you think he'd still have any teeth?" asked my Master jokingly. "Bitch, get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head and offer my trainer some head." I laid my knees down on the cold cement floor, pushed out my ass a bit, and placed my still cuffed hands behind my head. "Sir, may I please have the honor of serving you sexually in any way you want," I said as I opened my mouth wide and lowered my eyes. Antonio started cuffing my cheeks with his still gloved hands playfully, and then increased the intensity. He turned to my Master and said "MMA fighting is the most primal motherfucking sport there is. It's you and the other dude, and one of you is going to be the master, and the other guy is going to be his bitch. The other dude wants to fuck you up -- break your legs, arms neck, fingers -- and if he could get away with fucking you in the ass, he would do that to if you weren't strong enough to stop him. That's why I had 52 fights and only tapped twice. I always felt it was the same thing as giving up your ass, but after I had my right ankle broken one time, and my left wrist another time for refusing to tap, I learned its part of the sport. But these bitches tap nowadays like they're getting a sip of Powerade."
He then stuffed two thick fingers into my mouth and began reaming it out. "Show me your talents faggot, and I might let you suck my big sweaty Brazilian cock." I begin slurping and sucking on his fingers, with his mangled knuckles roughly rubbing the roof of my mouth as he rotated them. With his other hand, he pulled down his shorts, and a very thick and mean looking uncut cock flopped toward my chin. "I've been letting faggots suck this dick since I was a 15 year old kid and just got to this country," he said. We were so fucking poor, and these faggots had no problem throwing cash at me to suck this ten inch cock." Antonio grabbed hold of the handcuffs and pulled me forward onto his cock, and all but eight inches made it into me. I began gagging from both the hugeness and the sweat coming from his thick, dark bush as he continued to stuff his penis in and out of my throat. I was so turned on that I began moaning as I sucked around his thick meat hard as he fucked my mouth. "What's he got a clit in the back of his throat Bro," he said to my Master as he let go of the cuffs and grabbed two hands full of my hair. "The only thing I like more than forcing my cock all the way down some faggot's throat is unloading in it," he said as he picked up the pace of his mouth fuck. He began unload into my throat and after four or five spurts pulled back and laid another four shots in my gasping mouth. I gasped and choked, but managed to handle the entire load.
Antonio pulled his cock out of my mouth and wiped his cock off on my face. "Your slave gives good brain, Bro. That was one of the best blowjob I've had in a while." Master chuckled as he walked over to me naked, with a pair of MMA gloves in his hands. He reached down, uncuffed me, and threw the gloves at me. "Put these on, bitch and get into the ring. You and me are going to go at it." I quickly put on the gloves and gingerly climbed into the ring and got on my knees in the slave position. "No faggot, you better fight me as a man, of I'm going to take the hanger to your ass and balls until the sun comes up. Get up, we're going to go at it." Confused, I got up and began circling the ring with my Master. I knew I had to try something quickly or he would anger. (My Master knows I couldn't hurt him in any way.) I dove in for a single leg takedown, and narrowly missed it. "That's right faggot you better do something before it's lights out," Master said as he began jabbing at my head with lightening speed. There's no way I can trade punches with him for even five seconds, even though I'm physically bigger than him at 6'3" and 185 pounds, now finely sculpted too thanks to Master's training and my new found nutritional discipline since being involved with Master. Master peppered me with a couple of jabs, but slipped on a wet spot, and I dove in with a double leg and took him down to the mat. Master hit the mat hard, and the air went out of him as I got my long arm wrapped around his neck, also controlling his right arm. (I was an all state wrestler 14 year ago at 189, and wrestled two years in college), and had a bit more grappling ability than my Master. If I could link my hands and squeeze hard, I'd have my Master locked in. A barrage of rights began raining down on my back and back of my neck as Master fought back with his free hands, but I was a half inch from locking my hands and I was three quarters on top of him.
Master then was able to maneuver his arm between mine and was able to break my hold. He then spun around and got me only my side and laid two hard punches to the back and side of my head. I was a bit dazed, and he was then able to reach around me and use my same hold on me. He got me on my stomach, and had his right arm under my right side and around my neck. He reached up with his left hand and began squeezing. My head got woozy, but I managed to get my left hand between his arms, somewhat restricting his ability to choke me out. "Your own move, Chris, I got you motherfucker with your own move," he said right into my ear. "Tap me on my chest and I'll let you up and no more punishment tonight." I start pushing back on his face with the back of his head, causing him some discomfort. He called me by my first name, for the first time in months. My Master must have respected my effort and courage in fighting him. A wave of pride and strength washed over me as I managed to get onto my knees by using my free hand for leverage. "Fuck you motherfucker, I'll never tap out to you" I said to him as I reached back and began tagging the back of his head with punches with my free right hand. Master gasped loudly and then burrowed his head into my shoulder, taking that target away.
I slid my right hand under our bodies, and now hand both hands between his hold. I was now able to get enough leverage to break the hold and using my wrestling instincts, managed to maneuver my way out from under him and to my feet. "Your ground game does suck," I say as I begin to bounce around the ring with my hands up. Antonio began whistling and clapping as he rang the bell. "That was an impressive takedown and escape, dude," he said to me as I sucked down some water. Master was standing in the far corner looking incredibly embarrassed and pissed, some blood dripping from his nose when I caught him with the head butt. "Thanks Sir, the double leg was my go to move when I wrestled," I said as I gasped for breath. I wonder what someone would think if they walked into the gym right now, seeing two naked guys sweating and panting heavily in the ring. "Fifteen seconds, Chris," Master spat out. He was really steaming mad and he wanted another round from me. My confidence began to wane a bit as the seconds wound down, figuring that Master would use his boxing to knock me out, literally. But Master was too proud a man to do that. He was going to beat me grappling. He wasn't even bothering to throw real punches as he began trying to throw moves at me. I was able to evade him, and managed to get a couple of jabs in, but I slipped on the same wet spot and Master shot his body at my legs tackling me hard to the mat. Master then climbed on top of me and began punching my head and neck and grinding his weight on top of me.
I had no experience fighting out of this position, called "the guard." Master had me square on my back, with him right on top of me, his head burrowed into my chest and left shoulder, his body weight controlling me and both his arms free. I had to use both my arms to grab his and stop him from punching my head, but every time I tried to use an arm to get out of this hold or punch him, he would land a hard punch right into my face. "Your go to move is to go to the nearest cock and begin sucking," Master grunted at me as he threw a few more punches. "Tap out or your face is going to look like fucking ground beef." I tried to fight the good fight, but he had me in control. Master reached up and managed to get an arm around my head and right shoulder and was attempting to lock his arms. His entire body weight had been pressed against me for about three minutes now, and I was gassed. He locked his hands, and began to squeeze, and I tapped his side with my free hand, giving up right before I would have passed out. Master let up the pressure, but didn't release the hold. Every thirty seconds, he would increase the pressure almost until I passed out, then would back off a bit. After the third time, Master rolled me over and put me in a full nelson, wrapping both of his arms under me and locking his hands behind my head.
He then put a lot of his body weight on the back of my neck, almost knocking me out, before letting up a bit. He did this a bunch of times too, saying "Weak ground game, huh faggot" each time. Master began grind his pelvis into my backside as he choked me out, and his penis was getting hard. "I could kill you right now, just by putting a bit more pressure here," he said as he again took me toward unconsciousness. "But maybe I'll just fuck you to death," Master whispered into mo ear as he shoved his now rock hard cock right up my ass. I groaned loudly as all the life exited my body as his hard pole reamed me out. Master pounded me mercilessly over and over, pulling his dick almost all of the way out of me, and then slamming all the way in. Master began breathing even heavier, and began applying pressure to my neck again. Lightheaded, I got off, and Master responded to the additional tightening around his cock by coming, dumping what seemed like a dozen spurts inside my hole.
Master rolled off me and walked over and leaned over the far corner. "Now that's a submission move I haven't seen before," Antonio said as Master climbed out of the ring. I rolled to my side, facing away from the two fighters, and almost began to cry. I was just dominated in the most primal way by another man, and couldn't do anything about it. I was raped, and I responded to the rape with an orgasm. Then another feeling washed over me. Everything in my life became a lot clearer in that moment. My need to submit to a true alpha male was the most primal need in my life, more important to me than food, money, pain, pride, and as I just learned, air. A smile crossed my face as I stood slowly and climbed out of the ring. My Master put his arm around my shoulder, helped me toward the locker room, and said "Come on Chris, I'll help you. You need a shower. I can't offer my trainer a smelly piece of ass, right? Oh and by the way, when it comes to bitches, that's MY go to move."