Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Master Max's Session

Max is a friend of mine who is also a hot Dom. Over the holidays, we got together for a little fun session. You have to understand; I’ve known Max and his health status for years. He is very clean and disease free.

Our session opened easy enough. I stripped and presented myself to Master Max for examination. He checked body hair, made some minor trips, collared me, put his special leash on me and led me to the worship area.

The worship area is an area where I pay special homage to Master Max. It is right beside his special restraint table. He steps up on a box or sometimes sits in an elevated chair he has. I have to remove his cock and balls from his pants and worship them. After bringing Master to full attention, he will then put me on his table.

The table is Master’s own design. It is a square table with cuffs on one end a U-bolt through the side of the opposite end. I have to lay on the table; he cuffs me down and then takes my cock and balls and puts them in the U-bolt before securing it to the table. Effectively I am bent over the table with my ass exposed. Master Max then straps my legs to both the right and left table leg.

Because we share a tight bond, Master Max wants there to be some enjoyment, not too much for me also, as the slave. He lubes his cock with my spit and some K-Y. at this point, I’m helpless on the table and he enters me from the back. Again, because I have known him and know his status, he has no protection on. He simply starts to pound me until I feel him widen in my ass. He always pushes deep when he’s about to cum, gets thicker and starts to grunt. At this point, I am required to recognize that Master is about to cum and encourage him. I usually say such things as “Give it to me Master,” or “Thank you Max for your load,” “Praise Max for his cum,” or any other phrase. He usually grunts very loud and then I feel his hot fluids fill me.

After he has finished one or two things happens. He either whips me for a while, or I clean him and he allows me to be satisfied. This time he allowed me to clean his cock with my mouth and then jack off on his boot. While I was jacking, he used the toe of his boot to lift my balls and bounce them as he sang, “Jingle balls” to his favorite Christmas tune. Once I came, I had to clean his boot and then we went to bed.

The next morning was fantastic as usual. We woke up and I immediately started to worship Master Max’s cock. When I thought he was about ready to cum, I started to remove my head to allow me to stroke him and jack him off onto his chest where I would then clean him. This time Master had something different in mind. I felt his firm hand on the back of my head. It was the indication that I was to swallow it straight from his shaft. I felt him widen in my mouth and explode, as I had to gulp to keep from choking. After cleaning Master Max, I left one happy fucking slave!!!!

Monday, October 19, 2009

Toy Jerking

The first time I learned what my Mistress meant by “Toy Jerking” I was serving her guest at a party. I was required to serve in a blue or red pair of bicycle shorts and my duties were simple. I would carry some drinks around, be polite, and say Yes Mam, or Yes Sir to anyone who addressed me. Occasionally my Mistress would slap my bottom and talk about her “Property” to her friends. I was fairly used to serving and smiling through it all.

The night I learned of “Toy Jerking”, it was routine like any other and most of my Mistress’ guest were gone. A handful of her best friends were there sitting on the couch with my Mistress when she called me in and said words I had heard several times before. “Strip.” I only hesitated for a moment, but having been exposed to my Mistress’ friends before, I immediately took off my bicycle shorts and stood straight before my Mistress.

My Mistress next asked her friends if they would like to see her “Toy Jerking”. There was simple giggles and outright laughter and then they all agreed. My Mistress smiled and pointed to her leg resting on the table and said, “Jerk it for me.” The command meant that I was to spread my legs, squat down until my hanging balls touched her leg, and then masturbate.

Despite everyone watching me, I did just as she commanded. As always, the feel of my balls bouncing across my Mistress’ leg brought me to quick attention and as I kept my eyes locked with my Mistress, I saw her whisper the word, “Cum” as she saw I was near. I exploded on her leg to the delight of her friends. As was customary, I wiped myself clean on her leg, knelt down and licked her leg clean. There was some more laughter and giggles as I cleaned my Mistress. Afterwards, I was instructed to leave the room while my Mistress discussed the event with her friends.

After this event, I knew what “Toy Jerking” was and I grew to expect it from time-to-time. I performed the event for my Mistress’ male friends, female friends, and even people she barely knew who might end up at a party. It got easier and even became a game before her death. She would often whisper to me as I prepared food and things for a party, “Tonight, we might just watch you my toy, do a little jerking.” Some nights she would give the command and others she would simply forget it. It is weird, but now that she’s gone, I’d give anything to perform “Toy Jerking” for her again.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


I still find myself waking up at night alone and wondering if I will ever feel the leather of an owner's collar again. I had been collared for so long and although I was away a lot, there was always that chain linked, even if imaginary, from my Mistress' hand to my heart. Now, I'm left with a big hole.

Sometimes I just want to go out to the nearest club, stand on a table and yell, "Any takers. One night fuck me, use me, abuse me." I have to restrain from that or I'm afraid I'd go from being a slave to being a slut...well, in some ways that would be okay because as long as I'm owned I will be a slut, slave, or whatever my owner wants.

I've had Masters, Mistress', those who wanted me to call them "Dom" or "Domme" and I've been used ten different ways to one, and I've served ten different ways to one. I believe I could write the book on how a submissive is to be. I say "is to be" because i get tired of hearing submissives I've known say things like "This is how it should be," or "This is how I want it to be," etc. So many of them fail to understand that it isn't about how it "should" be, it's about how it "is". It "is" anyway your owner wants it to be. I told one whinny sub one time that complained that all his owner wanted to do was "shove a vibrating dildo up his ass and watch", that he was blessed to have that and should treasure each moment of how his owner said it "is" going to be. In retrospect, I'm honestly not sure he was a true sub... Although I do have to say I drew the line when an owner wanted to castrate me one time, but it was very fun play though...

Someday, as they say, my new owner's day will come...

Monday, October 5, 2009

Served Up

My Mistress used to love to play games. One of her favorites was what she called “Served Up”. It was simple and erotic at the same time. It consisted of nothing more than her gloved hand, some rope, the dinning room round table, a blindfold, and guest I’ve never seen.

Usually just a short time before dinner, I would be instructed to lay spread eagle on the round dinning table. It was a small table that required the leaf to be put in for me and once I completed that, I would lay down as instructed. My Mistress, in her wheelchair, would come into the room and tie each of my legs down first. Because of the size of the table, I would have to have the edge almost to my lower buttocks, but still within a comfortable range. Because my legs were tied to each table leg, my center leg was completely exposed. She would then make her way around the table, tie each of my hands to the other four corners and then blind fold me.

As a man, I must admit I adored the next part. I could always hear her wheel around between my legs and slide on the leather glove. I wouldn’t actually hear the glove, but her voice would tell me that she was putting on “your favorite glove”. She would then stoke me slowly bringing me to the brink of satisfaction just before stopping. After she would stop, I would always know what was next, but she’d tell me anyway. “Guest are here for dinner,” she would announce.

I never knew how many people came into the kitchen and saw me, but some would laugh out loud, some would gasp, and some would whisper to each other. I would hear them getting food from the stove area and sink. Usually the guys would make comments like, “What a pussy,” or “Bet he’ll suck cock”. I heard comments over the years like “Can you believe he let her do that to him?” Sometimes, but not often, one of them might touch me and giggle. Periodically, I’d lose my arousal and someone must have been told to inform Mistress as each time she would return to the room and say something like “You’re supposed to be Served Up for my guest.”

I must admit, she had to work me a lot the first night. I lay there practically and tears thinking of all the people I didn’t know looking at me. I had been humiliated before for Masters or Mistress, but this was unique because it was as if I was simply a decoration for the kitchen. Later, I became more used to the idea and actually enjoyed keeping erect while the guest came and went out of the room. Once in awhile, especially when I heard people talking about me, I would flex him just a little and cause the head to bounce slightly. This always produced a comment, a giggle, or an outright laugh.

Afterwards, there were always rewards for having been “Served Up”. Sometimes it was the chance to sleep untied, sometimes it was the chance to masturbate for my Mistress’ amusement, and sometimes it was the chance service my Mistress. She was very creative, to say the least.

Thursday, September 24, 2009


One of the hardest things (no pun intended) for a slave to endure is CBT. Cock Ball Toture is designed to bring the male slave to his knees, the floor, or cause him to pass out. Having been the receiving end of CBT on many occasions, I have found an equal amount of aggression in both the Dom and the Domme of the sexes.

I have noticed a few differences though and I'd like to point out my observations for you considerations here. Although minor, it could affect your next slave greatly.

The Dom tends to want to work on the balls more than the cock in this area of torture. It is almost as if the Dom, having his own set of balls, wants to see just how tough your balls are. He will slap them, clamp them, tie them and stretch them with great joy as the slave, in this case me, screams, crys and begs him not to rip them off my body. The Doms for the most part tend to stay away from the cock, especially if errect during this time.

On the other hand, the Domme is well spread in her desire to inflict pain on all areas. A Domme tends to start out gentle and even in a massage like manner so as to bring the slave to full errection before she starts. I have had many Dommes even masturbate me to the verge of my control, just before leaving my cock sticking up and stopping. Most of the time they will stop for moments while the urge dies down slightly and then start their torture session. A Domme seems more interested in keeping the slave's cock errect throughout the process whereas the Dom seems more interested in simply torture.

This has simply been my experience and hopefully in the future, I will experience either a Domme or Dom's hand again at CBT.

My Loss

You cannot imagine how it feels to wake up one morning and find your owner is gone. I was collared several years ago and we enjoy our relationship, but my owner died today. She was only the fourth person to have collared me, but I thought she might be the last.

What's a slave to do in this world. I've been left without a collar. That's part of the reason I'm starting this blog. I want to meet like minded people, male and female, couples and singles, everyone who has ever had an interest or is interested in owning a slave. My grief is still strong right now, but I'm sure the right person with the right tools can force me to think about something else.