Thank you to all those who reached out to me at SirsConcierge@mail.com. It's heartening to know this story struck such a chord with so many people.
At the same time, it's not surprising. There is a deep need out there for exactly what the Sinclair Society provides. There are thousands if not millions of men out there, who for various reasons including evolutionary biology and psychology - NEED to submit.
Sadly, in our world and in our country today, many of these men channel their submissive nature into politics and into political worship of certain authoritarian figures. This is unhealthy and sad.
But what is very healthy is the space that Master provides. The society where the submissive male can fully live who they are and let go. To focus their life on what they were born to do: service cock.
And so here was handsome blond football jock Bobby Brash, naked, hairless, on his knees, choking, eyes on me as I was about to unload down his throat. It would be the very first load this seemingly macho, deeply closeted, high schoolTexas football star would ever taste. With tears of joy pouring out of his baby blue eyes, he knew what he was meant to do:
- Immediately swallow my load. 2. Thank me for it afterward.
I was really getting into my role as the Concierge.
Not too long ago, I was in his position, as a loyal slave to Alexander Sinclair. Naked. Hairless. On my knees. My eyes looking up at my Master. Worshipping his enormous cock. But now, here I was, training this faggot and I have to admit it. I loved it. He was so young. So beautiful. So smooth. So devoted. In a state of pure ecstasy, finally living out his lifelong fantasy. His lifelong craving. His lifelong need.
I grabbed onto his blond hair and thrust my cock DEEP down his throat.
"Take that fucking cum, faggot. TAKE IT!"
And I unloaded. While I could hear the choking and gagging, I also felt him doing as he was commanded and swallowing it all the way down his little bitch boy gullet. Rope after rope sprayed down his throat. I pulled out and sprayed his eyes and face with the last rope for good measure. I rubbed it with my fingers and put my finger in his mouth, which he greedily sucked.
"Looks like we have a winner here," I said. "We've got a natural born faggot."
I slapped his face. "Don't forget to hats next, kid."
"Thank you, Concierge. Thank you for your cock and cum."
I nodded. "Good, faggot. Now, if I felt the need to piss, you would have to take that too and thank me for that."
He looked a little terrified and it made me chuckle a bit.
"Yes, concierge."
"But you will work up to it. For now, we have to get you initiated and get you to the Estate."
He looked incredibly excited.
"Do you have the rest of your paperwork?"
He nodded and pulled out a bunch of paperwork from the backpack in the hotel bed. It contained a LOT of information. Everything from drivers license photocopies, social security and bank account numbers. Physical examination reports and STD testing results. Everything you could imagine. Of this faggot was going to be allowed on Estate property, this was the least that would be expected. He handed it over gleefully without a second thought. I couldn't help but smile to myself. Fucking faggots. Their desperate need for this life superseded anything else. We had cultivated this over many months and he was ready to hand it ALL over.
Another boy we now owned.
Once I had the paperwork in hand, I was ready to give him the collar. I pulled it out of the box. Black leather, it has a small gold label on it that said: FAGGOT BOBBY
Bobby was eagerly bowing before me, in the correct position, obliviously thrilled that this moment had come.
"You may lift your eyes and look at your collar, faggot."
He absolutely glowed as he saw the FAGGOT BOBBY tag.
"From this point forward, Bobby Brash ceases to exist. That studly football player who got blowjobs from cheerleaders? He no longer exists. From this point forward Bobby Brash is FAGGOT BOBBY, a property of Master Alexander Sinclair. A part of the Sinclair Society, the elite club for faggots."
He nodded solemnly. "Thank you, concierge, I am honored."
As I fastened the collar around his neck, I couldn't help but to marvel at the situation. Here was a teen boy who had NEVER met Alexander Sinclair. He has never even seen Master's enormous cock. And yet here he was. Naked. Hairless. On his knees. Collared. I almost started to get hard again thinking about it. But we had a lot more to do.
"Okay, faggot. You know what's next."
"Yes, concierge. My chastity device."
"That's right, pussyboy. I'm not even going to let you jerk off one last time. I'm sure you've done plenty of that in this hotel room. You're done. From this point forward it's no longer about your cock. It will never be about your cock again."
"Yes concierge."
I brought out the new chastity device. It had to be the largest I have put on one of the new slaves. Many of these faggots has unremarkable cocks. Nothing to bother thinking about again. But Bobby, was very special indeed. Almost 9 inches. Bigger than my own cock. Maybe over the next decade he would evolve to be the next Concierge and he could train the onboarding faggots with that magnificent cock? It was a thought, but for now, it was only a thought. Something that was so far into the future as to be unimaginable to Bobby himself. Right now he was eagerly, willingly, gleefully ready to lock that cock up in the service of our Society.
I marveled at his huge member as I locked it inside the cage. From now on he would rarely if ever be without it. If it had to be taken off he would be under my supervision. Certainly, he would never take it off in front of Master Sinclair. Master has absolutely no interest in his slave's cocks.
"One more thing," I said, after it was secured.
He looked at me with surprise.
"Did I say you could raise your eyes to mine?" I said, and I slapped him across the face.
"Sorry, concierge."
"You better be."
From my things, I pulled out a butt plug that had an extension on it that looked like a dog tail. This was not something that Master Sinclair demanded the boys always wear, but it was the appropriate equipment for Faggot Bobby's transport out of the Petit Hermitage and to the Estate somewhere in the Hollywood Hills.
Faggot Bobby eyed the device warily, which made me laugh.
"You've never had a cock or a dildo up your ass have you boy?"
"No, Concierge."
I already knew this from the hours of thorough confession interviews we had on Faggot Bobby.
I smiled. "Well, I don't want to hear any moaning or complaints. This is a relatively small device. You will be trained to take much, MUCH larger devices in your little boy hole."
He looked down at he floor. "Yes Concierge."
I was very generous and applied plenty of lube to the device, but I wasn't particularly gentle. In my opinion, these boys have to learn to take the pain and discomfort. So I shoved it in one swoop up his little boy hole and slapped him on his bare, hairless, ass.
He obeyed and didn't moan or scream. He just took it.
"Good, faggot."
Next, I secured a leash onto his FAGGOT BOBBY collar.
"You're going to be walked out of this hotel on your hands and knees, puppy."
He nodded.
"Now tell me. What is your new name?"
"Faggot Bobby."
"Good boy. You are Faggot Bobby and you are property of Master Alexander Sinclair."
"I am Faggot Bobby and I am properly of Master Alexander Sinclair."
I couldn't help by smile again as I walked his faggot ass out into the hallway. Now, the Petite Hermitage is an extremely private and exclusive hotel. And we had used it for this exact purpose many many times. Our patrons paid them a pretty penny and they didn't ask any questions.
The concierge of the hotel let me, The Concierge, to a private elevator that led us to the basement garage where a black car was waiting for us.
Our driver was named Tony. He was a big, strong Italian guy from New York. Tony was a family man. He lived in Long Beach. He wasn't even a little gay. But he had been on the organization's payroll for decades. He was a loyal, trustworthy guy.
If anything, he was a bit amused at watching these faggots being dragged around on leashes and serving Master Sinclair. Maybe part of him was even a little impressed. Here was a true Alpha man who had this kind of control over people and didn't even PAY them or Tony or anyone else.
That said, he didn't show any reaction at all. He never did. This was just the process. This is no different than what he saw every day.
He opened the back door and Faggot Bobby crawled in the back. I decided to get in the back with him.
"To the estate, Sir?" Tony said.
"Yeah, Tony. We have a new faggot to deliver."
He nodded. "Of course, Sir."
It would be a 30 minute drive in traffic behind the tinted windows of the black car. The moment I sat down, I knew I wouldn't spend the ride without being able to enjoy the role of Concierge that I have earned. I have to admit I was turned on by all of this. This amazing life I had made for myself. This adorably cute blond teenager who was on the floor of the car right now, collared, caged, with a butt plug up his ass and tail wagging. I was rock hard.
I simply snapped and the faggot knew what to do. His face was in my crotch. He had my cock out in seconds and down his throat. This was only his second time but he was a natural born cocksucker. I say back and enjoyed the view of the Sunset Strip while my cock was worshipped.
I noticed Tony's glance back at me in the rearview mirror.
"You want some of this, Tony?" I laughed. "I'm sure this little faggot would love to give you road head. Right bitch?"
I pulled him off my cock and held his head by his chin.
"Yes, Concierge. Of course."
Tony just laughed. "I don't think so, bro."
I laughed too, grabbed the faggot's blond hair and shoved him down on my cock. As we drove, Tony could hear him gag.
....
If you are intrigued about all of this please contact Master's concierge. Sirsconcierge@mail.com