Perceptions - Chapter 3
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I knock on the door promptly at 7:00 and he leads me upstairs to the attic. No detour for parent introductions or anything like that. It's clear I'm not his friend, but then again I can't be too surprised. He did tell me I was his property. He created a really decent man-cave in the attic with a big leather sofa and large screen tv.
He points at a spot on the floor, and I assume he wants me to sit or kneel there. Crap, what position does he want me to take? I don't know. Why do I care? I'll just sit and see what happens. I take a crossed leg position on the floor and look up at him. He's quiet, collecting his thoughts. I can see him processing ideas, and I wait. "You understand that my selection of you as my faggot was not random or by chance. What happened this week was because I have witnessed and experienced what you are, and what you need. It's right there for any alpha to see......... Maybe you aren't even sure yourself about what you are." He circles, letting it sink in, and giving me a chance to speak, but I have nothing to add that makes a difference. He continues, "You didn't put up a fight yesterday when I told you that your future is in being owned by me. I expected more pushback, but then I realized you acknowledge more than I thought." The silence is powerful, and I think he wants a response, so I do. "What you expect from me, how I'm beginning to see myself, what I am, what this means going forward.........I have no clue man." I breathe fast, sucking the air in past my teeth, willing myself to hold it together, but one traitorous tear rolls down my left cheek and he grins slightly. "All I know is that what used to be doesn't work. Maybe it never did.", I painfully admit.
"That's honest" he admits, "and maybe courageous, but this is gonna be more than you imagine. You will fight me, you will beg for it to stop at times, you will cry; and I will break you each time until there is no resistance left in you, and you are completely owned. Not my friend or my girlfriend, but my slave. Remember, you asked for this."
I contemplate his humiliating words, knowing he selects them to inflict wounds. I am fearful of how painful my journey might be; but I also convince myself that I can always cut and run if it's too much for me. Things are spinning a bit, I have to take little bits of this information in. I know I am being flooded, overwhelmed, but a little here and there still absorbs into me.
"Your first lesson tonight will be showing proper adoration to your Master. Start by untying my shoes queer". I look up to see just how serious he is, and find his look of determination is back. Untying his Adidas as he moves each foot forward, I decide to wait for further instructions. "Fag, just go where your normal instincts take you. What do you want to do next?" He chides. My response is frustrated and afraid, "I don't know what to do. What do you want?" Now he is annoyed, "Ok, so you want to fight what comes natural to you? No problem, time to break you down."
A chill runs through me, but there is an undeniable excitement as well. "Take my shoes off bitch" he commands, and so I remove his shoes carefully. "Socks, roll them off my feet and give them a good sniff." I'm tentative as I lift them to my face, but he is prepared and uses his hand to mash them into my nose and over my mouth. "Breathe deep cunt" he growls. I want to be grossed out, but I'm not. I like being this close and connected to him. Plus, with him forcing me, it feels as if I am not responsible for my own pathetic actions. I can convince myself that I have no control. "Ok, time to lick my feet boy. Get your mouth all over them and worship `em." I look up, measuring his resolve. "Sir, this is kind of gross. Can I wash them first or something, or maybe just sniff them. I can't really put them in my mouth, ya know?" He is concise. "Fag, you can and you will. You provide the wash for my feet with your tongue you dumb queer, now get to it." I'm tentative but steady, and after a minute, I really start to get into it. His feet are strong and perfectly formed. They flex and relax around my tongue and I feel like to worship them is to show him how much I value his superiority. Before long I am devouring his feet in my mouth and sucking on his toes like they are a source of oxygen. My head is dizzy with his scent and I am lost in my pursuit.
"YO, pussy, come up for air you dizzy fairy. What the fuck was that?" I look up from my prone position at his feet. "I don't know Sir, I guess I got carried away", I answer grinning. "Call me Master, not Sir he corrects".