Eli was like many twinks I’d seen before. Preoccupied with looks, youth, vanity, and status. Not necessarily wealth or power, but wanting to be wanted. He did everything he could think of to be desired by men like me. Tattooing his body, piercing his flesh, marking himself to look as he thought we wanted him to look.
But boys like Eli don’t understand… it’s not the clothes or trinkets that make them desirable. It goes so much deeper than that.
When Eli came ...[Read more]
Eli was like many twinks I’d seen before. Preoccupied with looks, youth, vanity, and status. Not necessarily wealth or power, but wanting to be wanted. He did everything he could think of to be desired by men like me. Tattooing his body, piercing his flesh, marking himself to look as he thought we wanted him to look.
But boys like Eli don’t understand… it’s not the clothes or trinkets that make them desirable. It goes so much deeper than that.
When Eli came to me, I could see that he wanted to be free from that game. He wanted to be stripped bare and cleansed of his vapid, skin-deep obsessions. He wanted to be wanted, yes, but it was more than that. He wanted to be possessed.
I brought him back to be checked out. He was handsome and lean, albeit a little unsure of himself. Even with designer jeans and a slim-fitting polo, he was looking to me for a sign of approval. He wanted to be taken, but didn’t know what that would entail. But from the look in his soulful eyes, I could tell he trusted me. Which is all I needed.
I stripped him of his clothes, his protection, his facade. I removed the piercings he had in his ears and tongue, remaking him as I wanted. Clean, classic, ready to be sold.
His body was so smooth. My hands slid over him, playing with his nipples, watching him react as he released control of his body to me. I could tell it excited him, but also scared him. As I felt his bare buttocks, played with his balls and felt his tight, hungry hole, I could see his true nature. The boy. The submissive. The slave.
It didn’t take long for him to transform to what I needed him to be. A gentle touch of his penis, a few well-timed spanks, and a firm grasp on his neck, and he was practically begging me for more. He didn’t say a word, but the way he breathed was like a language to itself.
As I stroked his shaft, I could hear him getting closer and closer to cumming. It wouldn’t take long before he poured his cum out for me, but I wasn’t done testing him out. After all, he wasn’t there to be pleasured. He was there to be appraised.
Lubing up his hole, I saw the look in his eyes that revealed more than any interview ever could. He wanted to be opened, to be fucked, to be filled, and to be claimed. Of course, I was tempted. But he wasn’t mine. ...Not yet.