Mastered

Mastered, ch. 3 My Training begins

Adonis Boys: an international agency for Gay Escorts.

We continued in that rhythm, Gary and I, for the rest of that Sunday. Four times more he ploughed my furrow, so that by the end of the day my ass felt as though it had been tilled for many years. In reality this one man, this incredible, glorious, magnificent man had been my only lover, my only saint, my first and only farmer.

During the next week he was away all day, but came home each evening to claim what was legitimately his. I discovered that he had some young male servants who buzzed around the large luxurious apartment, doing all the cleaning and other chores one usually associates with the so-called fairer sex. They barely did more than nod to me, and answered any question of mine with as few words as possible. I was a little irritated at this, so at last I asked one of them point blank why they did not wish to converse with me. He replied quite candidly that they were on orders of Gary not to talk with me, except in the trivial necessities. Then he said quietly, "I think he wants you all to himself!" That did a lot for my ego! I could understand his desire to possess me himself! Little did I know.

Each evening Gary would arrive home, hug me and kiss me with great affection, assuring me that he had wanted to do that all day. We were then served a wonderful evening meal by the young men, which was followed by them withdrawing to some other place, which Gary explained to me was the apartment beneath ours. Then, needless to say, Gary and I would go through that wonderful sexual activity we had developed through that Sunday. That night, and right through the week, I slept in Gary's bed, and we revelled in sexual abandonment. He permitted me, nay, encouraged me, to take the initiative for whatever I wanted to do. That included if I woke in the night, fondled his crotch till he woke up, and we once again shared our bodies. The fact that I did this five of the seven nights placed me high in his estimation.

Needless to say I dreamt that this intimate relationship would continue for a very long time, but still there niggled a doubt in my mind. Surely this would have an objective for the not too distant future. What then?

By the Thursday I felt I had to ask Gary this question. He was quiet, thoughtful, then he said, "Donnie, I will lay my cards on the table. In the first place I love you very much, and I want to enjoy my time with you, but, as you have guessed there is a limit. In fact, what you haven't guessed is that all this has a purpose, an end in mind from the first minute we met." With this he rubbed his hand around my chin, stroking gently, and smiling that very sweet smile of his. "You know," he continued, "that I have a business. It's called Adonis Boys. Adonis Boys is an international agency for Gay Escorts. You know what a Gay Escort is, I suppose?" "Yes", I replied, "but have only heard of them locally."

"Well," he continued, "this is an international agency. Over the past 15 years I have devoted myself to training young guys, like yourself, to become first-class escorts. There are escorts ten-a-penny, but most are pretty useless. When I entered my twenties I tried several of them, and turned away disgusted from the majority. They hadn't a clue of what it means to give pleasure to another man. So I set about training guys to become escorts. Our business was so successful, that I was soon receiving requests from many parts, far and wide. Bluntly put, I train boys over a period of time, then rent them out to high paying clients."

I was gob-smacked. I sat there with my mouth sagged open. "Donnie," he said, "I suspect I know what you are thinking. I have done you the honour of leading you to think you are the only guy in my life. That's because I will only work with raw material, guys who've never been spoiled by sex with other guys. I look for virgins, like yourself. I initiate them into the way of true sex. If you want to question me for acting as though you were the only guy in my life, I reply, `That is the way every escort should behave toward his client.' I was already beginning your training. It was also because I needed to win your love, not for me, Gary, but for my cock! Yes, don't love me, Donnie, love my john. You will quickly find that I am self-centred, irritable, temperamental, edgy, brash. I can be moody, and you'll never know what mood I may be in. But my cock will never change. It's yours to command, mine to give. I have taught you how to love, and I have much more to teach you, but love is not selfish, it must give and give and give. That is what an escort is doing, giving love to many men. And, Donnie, an Escort can never be a lover of only one man."

We talked and talked through the evening and on into the night. It was after three in the morning before we got to bed, as he went over every detail. Basically he felt I had so very much going for me. "There are three types of guys, Donnie. The strong, powerful men, who make good masters and trainers of others. You might say that's where I am at. The other end of the spectrum are the somewhat weak types. Don't misunderstand me, they can be very nice guys, but they are not going to move the world. You see these young guys who serve us here? They are that kind of guy, called passives, or bottoms, or slaves. I prefer to call them servants.

"You, Donnie, come into the middle category. At first I thought you were too passive, but when I wanted to fuck you the first time, you resisted vigorously, determined to stop me. Also, I gave you permission to wake me in the middle of the night and demand sex. A passive guy would never have taken me up. You are a guy with chutzpah, who won't be sold cheaply. So I see you, by that and by your intelligence, as an ideal Escort type, plus, of course, your very pretty, almost feminine, face and your strong 8 inches of man meat. Yes, give me six months, Donnie, and I'll train you to be a true international escort. Now go and sleep on it."

That night we did not have sex, we did not make love, even though we slept together. Obviously Gary knew I needed time and space to chew things over, so he was reserved and undemanding. I lay thinking about our conversation for hours. Surprisingly, by the morning I had made up my mind. Gary normally rose at 8, at 7.30 I reached over his thighs and felt for his cock.

The learning Curve

The next morning he told me I was to have my personal servant. "All Escorts need a personal servant, a passive type, but who has intense genital urges. I provide them not only for the Escort's general needs, though they do this - run and fetch, wash and shine, prepare wardrobes, clean shoes, etc., rather like a valet - they are also there for him to practice his expertise in mating. Many of the things I shall teach you over the next few months you will be able to practice daily on your servant. He knows that and is paid to be available to you.

"They will never run away, so don't worry about that. I have a hold over each one of them - snapshots, videos, etc. of them reveling in the most extreme forms of homosexual abandonment, which can be shown in circles which would acutely embarrass them. They sign a contract to serve me for five years, and are then free to leave."

My servant was a guy called Spencer, a year older than me, the same height, curly haired, blue-eyed, and a face which one might not call handsome, but certainly cute. He had a way of looking at me with a prolonged quizzical gaze, especially when he was begging me for something - nearly always, of course, intercourse. As a passive he would never ask me for it, but if I failed the questioning look he would switch on a look of pain, of sadness. Those looks could bewitch me and I found denial very difficult. In him I practised my first, and many lessons in fucking (see our next chapter). He was truly delightful, and actually quite intelligent. We would spend a couple of hours discussing literature, history and politics, while we were fondling each others body in all its parts. Sadly our relationship was only permitted to last for four months, then Gary literally weaned me off him. He would never allow an Escort to get too close emotionally to a Servant.

My Training My training was a strange mixture between complete tenderness and what I can only call brutal thuggery, with constant variations between those two extremes. As already indicated we "made love", "had sex", "copulated", whatever you want to call it, more than 120 times over the next four months. Gary's basic creed (yes, creed!) was that a trainee Escort, (who was eventually to represent a financial income for his Master, though he didn't make this point at that time), needed to practice every possible experience which awaited him out there, in the big international world of homosexual intercourse.

"Donnie," he said, "an Escort slave should be dedicated totally to his master, which means in the first case knowing everything about his master's body. There is a gold-mine out there for international escorts, but they have to be prepared to be used for every imaginable type of sex, and to use on his client every conceivable form, if the latter so desires it. And they must never complain about being used and abused. In every situation you are a slave to the desires of this man, who has temporarily taken over the franchise of your body, and so become your master. He will pay you well for the hire. Most escorts in our business are rented out for a period of between 1 and 3 months. During that time you will have to do whatever your `master' requires of you."

Lesson 1: The Slave and his Master's Body

A slave should study carefully everything about his master's body. "Obviously you know my face and could identify it among a 100, but could you identify my dick in a cock-identification parade, among a dozen others?" I shook my head in disbelief. "Well," he said, "You've only been with me a few days, but I shall expect it of you within the next two weeks." I grinned mischievously. "Yes, you'll have something to grin about, when you see the complete list of required identifications. Here it is," and he handed me an A4 sheet of paper, where I read:

A Slave should know

1. His Master's face, obviously.

2. His Master's Neck, his Adam's apple, his ears, his collar bone. His neck and shoulders muscles. His biceps. You may not have thought about it before but all these are distinct on every man.

3. His Master's Hair - What does it look like, feel like, smell, texture, etc. Straight, wavy, curly? How does he like to keep it?

4. His Master's chest - how much hair on his torso, the shape, size, feel of his nipples, his abdomen and its navel.

5. His Master's pubic hair - length, depth, width. Mine are confined to the immediate surrounds of my penis, but I have known some guys where it stretches from hip to hip. Is it curly or straight? Colour?

6. His Master's testicles - shape, size, feel, his ball bag, its taste and flavour. How far will he let you squeeze them?

7. His Master's Penis - Since this is your master's glory, you must prostrate yourself before it, and study every square millimetre, its shape, its length in millimetres, girth, colouring, size and circumference of the crown, feel, taste, and what do the veins of his penis look like?

Obviously you know immediately whether he is circumcised, but describe his foreskin if he has it. You should be able to identify the feel of his penis in your mouth if you were blindfolded and had to identify it among a dozen!

1. His Master's Ass - look at it carefully. Every ass is different. Shape, dimples, recognition marks. Look carefully at the crack, its length, and breadth when clamped or conversely spread. Is it wildly hairy, neatly trimmed, or completely shaven? And that exquisite love-hole. If your master permits you to penetrate it with your fingers, or even more with your dick, you must be able to describe the feel of it, inside and out, over against any others.

2. His Master's Thighs - soft, leathery? His knees, legs, calves, feet, ankles, and toes are all your concern, and you should be able to identify them. If you saw a row of 12 soles of feet, would you be able to identify your master's?

3. His Master's Mouth - his lips, teeth, palate, alveolar, his cheeks inside and out. What is the taste of all these, their softness, strength, and so on.

"Now, Donnie, that is the list. Study it carefully, and begin to use it on me. As I've said, I shall expect you to be able to describe all these about my body within the next two weeks! In fact you could be required to write essays on any of these ten areas. If you fail that test you will be punished. Do I make myself clear?" With this question he grasped me firmly under the chin, a gesture which was at once genial but sternly authoritarian.

For the next two weeks I gawked at Gary's body from every angle. He was both flattered and amused by my attentions. I would even walk into the bathroom with him and study his body as he shaved. I would restrain him from his sexual demands until I had feasted my eyes on various aspects of his superb torso.

You, my reader, are anxious to know, so I shall tell you immediately, the results of that first test. I was required to describe orally numbers 3 and 7, and to write an essay on 8. I got full marks on the first two, his face responding to my descriptions with delightful smiles playing around his lips, but in the case of the essay I failed badly. I was punished severely for this, but I will leave description of punishment to a later chapter.

My Escort-cum-Slave Training

It was confusing to me to sort out the concept of an Escort who had to consider himself at the same time as a slave to every guy he served. But I began to get the hang of it, after all he would be paid generously, and should therefore yield himself totally to the desires of his temporary `master', even more so if the relationship was to last for a month or more, and could be repeated at a later date.

I will now describe some of the elements of my training. First Gary led me through all the love-making we had done so far, but each time showing me how to perfect my technique. Although in his usual lust he can be quite rough, in his training he taught me to be quite gentle in handling my clients, unless requested to do otherwise. Over the years I have found this to be true. Gentle stroking of the thighs, the ass, the perineum, the testicles and the penis, can leave the `end user' gasping with pleasure. I tried this first on my servant, Spencer. He was delighted. Try it next time, guys.

I also learned not to rush at blowjobs. One needs to do honour to the cock in question. Oh, and by the way, Gary taught me to honour all of them. Size is not so important as we so often suppose it to be. I have on two occasions spent a month in an Asian country, where dicks are notoriously small, but as long as they function well, burn with lust, spurt great wads of spunk, and leave both the owner and me gasping with delight, there is nothing to be ashamed of in size. And little penises can do just that! But if you show even a tiny bit of scorn for a cock which is not to your own liking, the owner will seize up and become uncooperative.

So, take a good long look at the cock in question. Its owner will be flattered by your attention to what is his pride and joy. Feast your eyes upon it, make noises which indicate your thrilled reaction every time you see it. Describe its beauty to the owner himself, and you will soon have him eating out of your hand, as they say.

Now take it in your hand and fondle it. Caressing is extremely important. Allow your hands to wander all over his ass, his perineum, his ball sac and his lovely cock. Then begin to use your lips and your tongue on it. Bathe his privs all over with your spittle, let your tongue push through his pubic hair. One trick Gary taught me is what he called `the lollipop lick'. This involved starting with your head between his legs and your tongue on his crack. Move down the crack, through his legs, over his ball sac, and up along the length of his cock. Do this five or more times and I guarantee that he will be come frenzied with lust.

As for the actual blow job itself, this will depend on your client. Consult his likes and dislikes. Some like it hot, some like it cold, and some like it in the mouth nine days (hours?) old! Hehehe! Personally, I am not entirely in agreement with Gary's lustful haste. I prefer to do it, and have it done to me, slowly at first, gently licking and sucking, showing my love for this royal rod by stopping to kiss it, and its bells, passionately. When he is beginning to want to explode and he and I feel it is a the right moment, I try to encourage him to fuck my mouth. I think it more thrilling for him that way, and usually we agree as to what he will do with it when the cream erupts. Does he want me to swallow it, exploding deep in my throat? Would he prefer to put the head just inside my lips and explode that way, which usually means some seeps out. Does he prefer to bathe my face with it? I love it! It's such superb fun when the moment of discharge comes.

And cleaning up the cream can be great fun. Often Spencer and I would giggle like a couple of kids as we licked each other's cum off the other's body, or shared it together with fingerfulls. Sometimes I will rub it in like oil. This is particularly appreciated by clients, when I use it as massage on my own chest or pubic parts. It stimulates their fantasy to see a handsome young man using their cream on himself like some beauty supplement! Don't despise this action. It is little gestures like these that lead the client to obtain unexpected gifts for his temporary lover.

To be Continued in ch. 4: Fucking Spencer, putting my training into practice.