This story is about two men, of legal age consenting to a D/s relationship. In real life, sex of any kind should be between two adults and it should be safe, sane and consensual.
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Twelve Days of Domination- Part II The Lesson of Humility
The next few days felt as if I were walking through water. I was functioning only to pass the time and see Daniel again. It was a dangerous road to walk. Getting my sexual fantasies realized made me wonder what would happen. Would they disappoint me, as they never did in my dreams when I touched myself? Or, worse, would they be greater than I thought? Would I need something more extreme to satisfy myself. Where would my desires lead me? Where would Daniel lead me? A million questions brought me to his door at 7 pm and I wasn't sure I care about the answers, or if I'd have the courage to ask him.
When he answered the door and ushered me inside, I saw he was wearing a tshirt and sweat pants. He shut the door behind me, and I stood, like an univited guest just inside the threshold.
"Take your clothes off. All of them. Fold them, leave them by the door and come to the living room. On your hands and knees." He walked off, not looking at me. I didn't hesitate, knowing this man had more power over me than I wanted, but not caring. My knees hurt as I crawled on the hard wood floors; I thought I'd be grateful for the carpet, but it was scratchy on my knees. He sat, with a cup of tea, reading, listening to a sad, lonely violin in the background. I went to him, my eyes lowered, hoping for a taste of his cock, which was tening in his sweats. I thought I could smell him from my knees. Masculine, like leather mixed with steel and sex.
"Today's lesson is humility. Someone like you will fight and scrap to maintain what you think of as dignity. You'll kneel in front of me as long as you can get to my cock. You think that the sexual contact is worth the fleeting moment of submission. You think screwing will make you a man. But that's not humility. You don't need dignity in front of me." My eyebrows drew together as I tried to take in what he was saying. As he'd done three days earlier, he took my chin in his hand to make me look in his eyes. "I'm not taking about humiliation or degredation. Those are tools to control you. I'm talking about true humility in front of your superior. Humility without any reward. Your dignity is from serving a man and doing it well. That's where pride for someone like you comes from. True pride isn't from having a perfect body or money in the bank. Pride doesn't come to me from controlling you. True pride, honest pride comes from knowing who you are. Accepting that and reveling in it. This lesson is about teaching you who you are. Do you understand?" I nodded, thinking that this was perhaps the most perfect moment in my life as I was on my hands and knees in front of him. His hand wiped away tears I didn't know were running down my face. He gently pushed my head down and set my hands flat on the floor. Using his socked foot, he prodded my ass to move my body back and forth a few inches. When I was where he wanted he stood up and I could hear him walk around his apartment for a few minutes. It wasn't long before he came back.
I felt the cup of tea in a saucer being placed on my lower back, while his feet rested on my upper back. I admired it for a moment. It was almost ingenious. If I moved my lower body the hot tea would spill, perhaps down my hole and onto my balls. If I moved my upper body it would spill onto his feet. I froze, barely breathing.
It was because I was holding my breath that my arms began to shake.
"Breathe." That word. That single word spoken by him, that command. I obeyed instantly. Figuring out some way to breathe deeply without disturbing me. Now and then he would move his feet, sometimes resting them flat, sometimes rubing them carefully across my back. I realized how badly I wanted to kiss his feet, to rub them, to lick them and work my way up to his ankle. I wanted to bathe each hair around the bone of his ankle with my tounge. I realized I'd never seen him without clothes, and I wondered if his legs were tanned or pale, hairy or smooth, or clean shaven. My mouth was almost salivating and I swalloed the spit. I felt my hard cock slap against my stomach and I moaned. He leaned forward and rested his book on my back. He was aware of my erection but he ignored it. Making sure I understood that at the moment, I was simply an onject to him. I wasn't there for sexual gratification, but gratification of another sort. He left me alone with my thoughts racing back and forth between lust and a zen sort of nothing.
"What are you thinking about?" The question was so simple but when I tried to articulate my answer he stopped me before ten words escaped my lips. "You're missing the point. Just stop."
It took me a minute or two of shame at failing the test of his question before I realized he simply meant: don't think. I don't know what happened. I simply let myself, my thoughts float away. I listened to the in and out of his breathing. I felt the warmth of his foot, through the soft cotton of his socks. The smell of his feet entered my nostrils and I did nothing but try to become what he wanted me to be: an invisible piece of furniture. AT this moment in time, I was not my mind, my mouth, my hole. I was not there for conversation or sex. I was something to be used one moment for comfort and ignored the next for the same reason. I simply existed in that moment however he wished me to exist.
He stood up again and I felt the tea cup and book leave my back. I resisted the urge to stretch and simply waited for him again. He was gone for some time and I missed his overwhelming presence in the room. He came back and I heard some soft moaning and grunting in the background. He came around towards my rear end, and I wanted him to mount me from behind. I begged with my mind to him. Please take me and use me and hurt me and comfort me and hold me and hit me. Those words became my mantra and as I repeated them in my head over and over, I felt something warm and sticky hit my back.
"Do not reach around and touch my semen. You will crawl back to your clothes and put them on. You will want to get into the elevator and put your hand in it and swallow it. Do not. Instead you will think about the fact that you were naked in my home and I orgasmed and you had nothing to do with it. You will think about how I made you disappear into a table and you will get into bed tonight and cry. The reason you're crying is because you still think your worth is your ass and mouth. Later on, when you're thinking about this, you'll realize your worth to me is your submission. I don't care about your cock and balls. I don't care about your pussy. I care about you losing the illusion of your pride and dignity." I crawled towards his door, not daring to look at anything but his floor. I carved to be allowed to kiss his feet, but I couldn't. I dressed slowly, trying not to drip any of his precious seed on the floor. He opened the door for me and tipped my head again to look him in the eyes. He didn't kiss me good night this time.
"Your pride should come from serving me well. You should be proud tonight. Tomorrow. Same time. Do not eat before you get here. And do not jerk your cock tonight." He closed the door gently behind me and once again, I put my hand flat on his door for a moment and I waited until my heart beat returned to normal before I ventured down the hallway. I decided to walk home that night, simply breathing in the cool air and thinking about nothing other than him.