Being a master is harder than it looks. Sure, there are plenty of perks: subservient boys, warm mouths, tight holes. But it requires self-discipline as well. It can be easy to look into the big, bright eyes of the slaves you take on and feel passion and affection for them. Afterall, they’re adorable.
But ownership is different than simple dominance. The slaves can get confused and misunderstand their place if you’re not firm and consistent. I’ll admit, sometimes I just want to cuddle and be sweet. But a good master knows they can’t forget what they are: possessions. Property.
Logan is especially cute. When he has his lips wrapped around on my cock, my heart gets as full as his mouth. To keep him (and me) in check, I will often leave Logan alone in his slave cell for extended periods. Sometimes he’s in his cage, but sometimes my generosity gets the better of me and I leave him out. But those periods are good for me and him. He gets used to the idea that he’s only out when I need him, and I begin to see him more like a pet.
And like a pet, there’s always that happy moment when he sees me and is happy to see me. I free him from his solitude and loneliness and give him back his purpose. That look in his eye upon being reunited sends a rush to my loins, causing my cock to jump up and need to be serviced. Knowing how much he needs me and wants me is a huge turn on, second only to know that I can do anything I want to him.
When we’re together, he’s trained to remove my clothes, unzip my pants, and pull out my big cock. His eyes always look at it up and down, seemingly in disbelief at its size and firmness. I love that look. It’s that of true devotion and worship. Not just submission, but a deeper acknowledgement of my superiority.
With my mass in his hands, he brings it to his face, running it along his lips and nose, taking in the warmth and the scent. It’s a phermonal reaction inside him, responding to my alpha presence. I can tell his heart races, seeing his skin flush and his breathing gets heavier. Just the sight of my manhood has him panting to be used. How can I deny such a beautiful desire?
I let him take it into his mouth. His breath warming my pubic hair as he swallows me down. My balls rest in his fingers, held carefully and delicately as I swell up in his throat. He knows they hold something precious--something powerful and rare: my master seed.
I expect a lot of him. He needs to be able to deep throat my giant dick and take it up his tight hole without any hesitation. I understand it’s hard, but it’s why I bought him. I can see him struggle sometimes, but he never backs down. It’s that drive--that spirit--that earns him the greatest reward I can give him: my load, thick and potent, poured inside his tight body. Afterall, by having part of me in him, he can feel for a second like more than just a slave… even if I had just completely and mercilessly used him hard.