MDI

Shane was a dick.

There is an implicit contract between a dominant and His sub that should be spoken of, discussed, and understood.

When a dominant lays claim to a sub and declares ownership, He is setting into motion a life altering series of mental and emotional realignments around a new reality.

It is profoundly emotional for a submissive. And we've spent our whole lives hoping to someday experience it.

The claim implies oversight, care, correction, protection, and discipline so we feel safe. And it implies frequent use of the sub's innate capabilities and usefulness so we feel fulfilled and stay focused on our purpose. It implies a level of engagement and attentiveness that anyone would value and cherish in any healthy relationship.

There is an enormous responsibility of being a faithful and good steward of a sub's trust.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. That's what i think as i stare up in awe at my Master from my given place at His bare feet, naked, on my knees, resting on my heels, hands behind my back, sitting motionless and quite in a posture of reverence and respect. I am overcome with gratitude to the extent that i am trembling and tears wet the corners of my eyes. He is the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. I love Him. And I am in love with Him.

It's never been spoken out loud but of course, He knows. He knows everything about me. I have freely given it to Him, opening the doors to the deepest recesses of my secret thoughts and needs, fears and insecurities. I have equipped Him with everything so that He can better control me, so that He can make me a better servant for Him.

Despite His young age, He has proven over and over again that He is worthy of that trust and more than capable of extracting the very best out of me. What a precious gift He is to me! Men my own age have used and abused their privilege and left decades of scars across my wounded psyche, to the extent that i was living bereft of hope. Until He found me. Until He chose me.

I owe Him what's left of my life.

The acts i happily perform, either by command or permission, are not about sex; they're about love, gratitude, and worship. The care i take with His cock borders on obsession. My lips. My tongue. The stroke of my hand. Everything communicates a steadfast and unshakable commitment to His pleasure and comfort above my own.

There is no limit to what i will do, what i will give.

I worship His body, every inch and part of it, as a man who has found salvation. When my mouth is over His hole and my tongue is lapping and softly probing inside Him i am lost in the sounds of His moaning. When i hold His limp cock in my mouth and He stares into my eyes i nearly cry with contentment as the warm stream crosses over my tongue and down my throat. When my tongue laps and twists between His toes and licks the soles of His feet i am overcome by the privilege.

In a surprisingly short amount of time, i am completely used to the fact that he is naked. i bask in the comforting security of being immobilized by his weight as his knees sink deep into the bed on both sides of my hips. He presses down on my shoulders to work out the stress that collects there. He has a gentle yet firm touch that i could grow addicted to. The strength i feel in his hands and the authoritative way he touches my body soon has me floating in deep subspace.

i lose track of time, adrift in a haze of gratitude as he takes care of me. i am only slightly aware of the soft drag of his heavy cock across my lower back. The massage is intense and sometimes painful but it's exactly what i need. He reads my body and moans with accurate precision, knowing just how hard to work the flesh and muscle beneath his hands.

He doesn't hesitate in the transition from my lower back to my buttocks, kneading and working each cheek, pressing my groin deeper and deeper into the mattress. i can't help but moan when his oiled fingers graze my hole - a pitiful admission of the fact that no one has touched me there in much to long.

He oils my thighs and lifts me slightly to work his hands around each leg, his fingers grazing my balls as he grasps my upper thigh. My calves and feet are not slighted in the least; every part of my body gets his attention and is healed beneath his attentive touch.

i know the end must be near as i resist falling asleep. Yet he continues to touch me with his slick, strong hands, gently moving my legs apart. i am in a deep state of relaxation as if in a trance. So i give no resistance to the gentle pressure i feel against my buttocks. Nor do i clench when that pressure builds and slowly penetrates my greased hole. It happens much too easily and without incident.

A panicked moan is pressed from my lungs as i feel the sting. He folds his naked body on top of mine and sinks deeper inside me. i feel the tight fullness of his ample girth stretching me and shudder at the tender caress of his lips on my shoulder as he holds me still. The slow relentless pressure builds until he is fully seated inside me. He holds me tight and gently grinds his body against mine.

Slowly, he raises my hands above my head and interlocks his long, beautiful fingers in mine. i feel safe, warm, and cared for. With his full weight pinning me down and holding me perfectly still, he begins to thrust.

Each stroke feels deeper than the one before it.

Despite the pain of being impaled by something so punishing, i feel completely adrift in a state of euphoria. Time stops. The sounds of his exertion meld melodically with my own sounds of pain and astonished pleasure. The loud slap of his balls against my ass and the deep baritone of his moans are the only indication i have that he is nearing his release. i have no sense of how long he's been inside me but am keenly aware that he has never stopped owning my body as he makes it yield to his manipulation and control.

i feel inebriated and incapable of words as he works to a frenzied orgasm that fills me with cum. His groans sooth my tortured psyche and i want nothing more than to stay in his arms. He collapses against my back, using every inch of his body to rub and massage me as his cock pulses the last remaining spurts of seed.

Manspread.

The brazenness of His presumption that i am a cock sucking fag stops me in my tracks. Our eyes connect like powerful magnets and i feel my face heating up and my heart racing. My mouth has been hanging open before i realize to shut it.

The lewdness of His public groping is not the only thing that puts me on the defense. There's a cockiness in His stance and smirk that reminds me of a bully and threatens the potential for unprovoked pain and punishment.

Nevertheless, i've stared just long enough for Him to set the hook and pull me in.

It's not just His confidence that weakens my defenses. Its being truly seen for what i am and being called into service that makes me follow Him like a zombie - not thinking and barely breathing.

The abruptness of His intrusion into my day. The definitive claim He makes on me as He leads me away from safety. Everything is an unexpected sequence of events that seem to be happening to someone else. Even when He pushes me down by the shoulders, my mind barely registers the pain of my knees hitting the hard ground.

i think He's saying something but my ears are ringing too loudly to hear as i choke around the girth of His cock. With shocking strength and agility, He angles my head for full penetration and grinds my nose into His hairy crotch. He's cruel and violent as expected. And i am undoubtedly exactly what He expected as well, as i yield without resistance to His abuse, with a continual hunger and need for more.

Nothing i've ever done has felt more natural, easy, or right.