Love s MastersChapter 3 Rings of the Master
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The Young Master Chapter 2 free porn video
There I was, still impaled on a shemale's cock, one belonging to what was
supposed to be my sissy slave, wearing her bra, her cum on my cheek along
with my post-fuck smeared make-up, and my cum running down the full
length mirror. "I fell" wasn't the best explanation for what happened,
but it was all I could think of with my step-father's hulking frame
looming over me. I knew I was fucked...well more fucked than already, but
I still hoped for some miracle to save me.
"You...fell? I'm not even going to begin to catalog the many reasons that
is the most insultingly stupid lie I have ever heard. I'll give you one
more chance to tell me the truth, and then I'll ask Isabella. And, Byron,
you had better believe she will tell me the truth, so lie at your own
peril.
I didn't know what to tell him. I was so ashamed, every doubt and
reservation I had before my mind seemed to shut down came screaming back
at me. I just wanted to crawl in a hole and hide from his contemptuous
eyes forever. But I knew I couldn't hide from those blazing eyes, they'd
scorch the earth to find me, and when they did...I shuddered to think of
the countless ways he could hurt me, and my entire shameful story came
spilling out...
I tried to explain it in a way that didn't paint me as a natural born
sissy, tried to explain that all I wanted to do was to prove I was a real
man, but it's hard to do when explaining how your personal sissy slut
seduced you, sissied you up. mouth fucked you, spanked you, fingered you,
and fucked the cum out of you. What I finally managed to stammer out as a
final flimsy explanation was "I'm sorry...she's just so much more
experienced than me. I shouldn't have let her trick me...but I swear,
none of this was my idea and I never would have done any of it if she
hadn't gotten me so mixed up."
As excuses go, it was pretty pathetic, and it didn't exactly make me a
candidate for man of the year, but at least it didn't paint me as the
sissiest sissy that ever sissied, and I hoped that might be enough. Even
I could believe it if I tried hard enough. All that was left to do was
wait and see if this immovable mass of malice would accept it. "Well,
Isabella, is this true? Was this your doing?"
She had already slipped out of me and crawled over to his feet, curled up
around his legs like a kitten. I wondered where this submissiveness was
when I needed it most, but mostly I wondered if she'd sell me out to save
her own downy soft skin..."Yes, Master. I seduced the confused little
virgin, and it was sooooo easy. I know it was bad, but please forgive me,
Master. He's just so cuuuuute."
I heaved a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a horrified gasp as my
step-father savagely kicked Isabella in the stomach, knocking the breath
out of her and making her curl up into a tight little ball of pain. I
tried to say something, to beg him to stop, to tell him it wasn't really
her fault, anything to stop him from hurting her. But I couldn't breathe.
Finally I saw her stirring again, looking up at him with a manic smile,
her eyes glazed over with lust..."Thank you for punishing this worthless
slave, Master. Please, hurt me some more...I deserve to be punished."
It was so strange...this was the same sissy that had me completely
twisted around her little finger...and then shoved it up my ass. But
around Darren, she seemed to get off on being slapped around and put in
her place. Is that why she teased and toyed with me? Was she just fucking
with me to get me to push back? I started looking at her in a whole new
light, and from the perspective she wasn't quite so cute. Maybe it was
just easier to blame her than to accept what I let her do to me, but
anger felt so much better than guilt, so I nursed on it like a baby...
"Hmm...Normally I'd have both of you in stocks for a week with a fuck
machine pounding your ass the entire time. But perhaps you have a point,
Byron. Isabella was just being Isabella, and maybe I could have done more
to prepare you for the world of Men. So I'll let this pass this one time
and we shall never speak of it again. But I warn you Byron, by marriage
or blood, I will have no sissy carry my name. Do you understand?" His
rage seemed to have tempered, but that just left him rigid as cast steel.
It was all I could do to nod without shivering.
"Good, because you know I don't like to repeat myself. Now, I want you to
pay close attention, because I am about to teach you how to keep your
sissy in line." His tone iwas just as calm as if he were talking about
changing the oil, and with the same casual authority, he pulls Isabella
up by her hair until she has to stand on her tippy toes to avoid being
lifted into the air by her thick luxurious locks. He pulled her into a
savage kiss, practically swallowing her mouth with his. There was no
affection to it, no romance, he was merely claiming her mouth as his own
personal hole. And for her part, she seemed all too willing to surrender
it, her eyes rolling back in her head as she passively accepted him
raping her mouth...
I heard a pathetic little yelp as he dropped her to the ground, saw her
crumpled on the floor looking up at him with slavish devotion. I knew I
couldn't toss her around like Darren could, she was taller than me and
everything. But as I saw her running her tongue over his wingtips,
sucking on the tips, her eyes glued to his the entire time, I knew I
wanted to make her do the same to me. I wanted to make her pay...and I
wasn't going to miss a single second of this hands on demonstration on
exactly how to do it...
"You're sucking the wrong tip, bitch." He pulls her up by her hair again,
twisting it in his hand so that she can't budge with out losing a fistful
of hair right from her sensitive scalp. With her lips right at the top of
his pants, he says, "your smart mouth got you into this trouble, let's
see if it's smart enough to get you out." I stared in perplexed
nervousness wondering how she could possibly free his cock just using her
mouth. I almost started feeling sorry for her, I know she probably would
have been giggling if our roles were reversed, but I just get squeamish
when I see someone in pain. Maybe because I can't help but imagine what
it would feel like. I held my breath, hoping for a miracle...
"The fuck..." I closed my hand over my mouth, not wanting to interupt
with another outburst. But I could barely contain myself. She was using
her teeth to bite the slack of his belt and moving her head ever so
slightly to work it out a little bit at a time. I couldn't stifle a gasp
as she finally got it loose, but my step-father seemed unimpressed...
"Today would be nice." he said with a yawn. I couldn't believe it, this
was the hottest, most submissive human pet trick I'd ever seen, and he
was treating it like it was chore to watch. Again I felt sorry for her
against my better judgment, hoping he'd acknowledge her skill as she bit
down on his pant's button and worked it through the eyelet by tilting her
head. But he just looked at her with frustrated boredom. Finally she took
the zipper in her teeth, whimpering as she tried to move her head down
just a little further, just far enough to free his cock, but he wouldn't
give her an inch...or twelve as the case may be.
She looked up in desperation, surrendering her pride once more as she
begged, "Please, Master, please move my stupid whore head down so I can
get to your cock. I'm too weak and pathetic to do it on my own." She had
the look of one who had to deliver this speech many times before. I
wondered how she still kept the fire in her eyes when my step-father
doused her flame with his callous games. I was remembering why I hated
him, why I feared him...why I'd do anything to prove myself to him. And
when I saw him move her head down with the zipper in her teeth as casual
as if he were just unzipping his pants, I understood the hopeless
frustration Isabella must have been feeling at that moment...
When she finally manage to unzip him, his cock sprang forth like a wild
beast. I couldn't believe it...I never knew they could come that
big...that thick...I don't know how he could get a hard on that size and
not pass out from the loss of blood flow to his brain. Hell...I felt
lightheaded just looking at it. She seemed to be in a daze to, her mouth
open so wide it looked like her jaw had come unhinged. And then with out
a moment's notice, he crammed it in her throat, burying at least six
inches down her gullet in one ravaging thrust.
I held my hand to my throat, remembering how rough a few inches had felt,
unable to stop myself from imagining what it would be like in her
place...She gagged on his cock, even her well practiced throat unable to
take his full length dry. 'Luckily', her spit seemed to make the second
thrust a little easier, she managed to get two thirds of his massive
member before choking helplessly. This time he held her in place until
her face turned red, her eyes rolling back in her head...he snapped her
out of it with a hard cockslap to her face, and I couldn't help but
imagine myself moaning as I drooled all over myself just like she did...I
shuddered as I realized what I was imagining, and tried to force it from
my mind...
Instead I tried to imagine myself as my step-father, now managing to
bottom out in her throat, and then yank her off me by her hair, holding
her just out of reach as she tried to get back on it, the veins in her
neck looking like they would burst any minute...and then slamming her
right back onto it. Before long it was a sloppy blur of spit and hair
bobbing back and forth on his prick. But try as I might, I couldn't see
myself doing that to anyone, even to the sissy that used and abused me.
And even if I could manage to keep her in line long enough to force her
to suck my cock, even if I ignored how much stronger she was than me,
what would be the point? Is forcing three and a half inches of hard meat
really that demeaning? Honestly I think it would just make her laugh...
But she wasn't laughing at Darren, she was too drunk off her own
humiliation. I didn't get it...even though I was the same way with her.
Why would anyone want to be treated that way? To be used like a cock
sleeve? To hear my step-father call me "A cock sucking sissy bitch, a
cunt mouth whore, that's it, fuck hole, get ready for my seed." I
mean...call her that...I got a little caught up in the moment. And when
he finally pulled her off and exploded in her face, coating her with a
thick layer of white mucousy shame, I had to bite my lower lip to prevent
from whimpering along with her.
My step-father looked right at me, but it felt more like he was looking
inside me, judging me silently. I opened my mouth to say something in my
defense, but I didn't even know what I had been accused of. Either way
nothing came out but a raspy breath. After an eternity of crushing
silence, he said. "So you see how you are supposed to get a blowjob from
a sissy. First and foremost, they should be the ones with a face full of
cum. And that's just the warm up..."
Isabella was hungrily sucking his balls as he gave me his lesson on
Master/sissy etiquette. She was clearly trying to get him hard again as
soon as possible, but I didn't see how that could be. If I sprayed that
much cum, I'd be dry for a week. Even with all the squirting I'd done
today, it wasn't half of his giant load. But to my everlasting horror,
his cock managed to rise in defiance of gravity and all that is holy.
Apparently, I was the only one surprised, as Isabella didn't blink before
turning around and hiking her ass in the air, wiggling it invitingly...I
imagined how lucky I would feel to be in his shoes right now, to see
someone as beautiful and confident as Isabella offering herself to me so
completely like that.
I guess he didn't feel so lucky, as he kicked her hard in the ass,
sending her in a tumbled heap onto the floor, just barely managing to
keep wet, jagged sobs at bay. "Undress me, you vapid cunt." I would have
killed him if he did that to me...well, I would have wanted to. But
Isabella just looked up totally apologetic and wasted no time pulling his
clothes off and neatly folding them before setting them aside. I guess
it's easier to feel guilty than angry after all, especially if the man
you'd feel angry at could snuff you out like a candle. If anything, that
impotent rage would only make me angrier at myself for being too weak to
stop him. No, I'd much rather convince myself I was wrong and work
tirelessly to make it up to him...if I was her I mean.
When he was completely nude, I couldn't help but notice his physique. He
had the body of a man half his age, if that man had a great fucking body
anyway. He was tall and wide, but virtually every inch of it was covered
in taut, bulging muscle. The only exception was a little looseness here
and there, as time couldn't be beaten down entirely. If anything, these
minor imperfections merely added to his appeal, as it gave him a kind of
august authority of a elder statesman. He had nothing to prove, he had
already forgotten more conquests than I ever dreamed of having. Every
little detail, from the wry wrinkles around the corner of his eyes, to
the salt peppered in his lush mane of chest hair, all of it painted the
portrait of a living legend. Not that I notice those kinds of things, but
when it stared me in the face, I just called it like I saw it.
He lifted her into the air like she was weightless, and I realized with
a blush that he could lift me even easier. She squealed with girlish glee
at the gravity defying rush of total helplessness. And then he shattered
her illusion, showing her the full weight of gravity as he let her sink
down onto his cock, moaning incoherently all the way until she nestled at
the root. Her arms were flung around his neck, her legs wrapped around
his hips. She had more Real Man inside her ass than I had inside of my
entire body, and of the two of them, it only made sense to put myself in
her place. After all, I'd never been balls deep inside a sissy, but I
had felt my asshole stretch and surrender to a superior cock, enduring
the pain, then ignoring it, and finally worshiping it, knowing it brought
the exquisite explosions of pleasure along with it.
But this...this was a cock of a whole different breed. This was no sissy
cock like I had been so impressed with earlier, this was a Real Man's
cock, and I just knew it would kill me if I ever tried to slide up and
down it in a furious flurry of whimpers, moans, and wet smacking the way
Isabella was. Not that she had any choice, the way my step-father
manhandled her, she was little more than a cum-rag doll for him to play
with. But even though she was being used with no regard to her comfort or
pleasure, I could tell she wouldn't give it up for the world. Maybe it
was because she had no choice in the matter. If she really had just held
me down and raped me, would I feel so stomach churningly guilty about it
as I did right then? Or would I feel freed from all guilt and
responsibility by the powerful arms of my step-father. Using me so
savagely, forcing me to love it, enslaving me in his embrace, freeing me
from reason and dignity and manhood, making me a thing, not even a sissy
really, just a long continuous screaming orgasm. My head was swimming, I
couldn't stop 'sympathizing' with her, but I knew I had to try. I had to
think about fucking her instead. "Ha, I can see you like this, boy.
Alright, come over here and get a closer look. I want you to see her face
when she offers her soul to me."
He put her on the ground and flipped her over unceremoniously. He lifted
her ass in the air and spread her legs as far as they would go. He didn't
even have to tell her to hold her ass cheeks apart. I saw her now gaping
hole and wondered if I could survive feeling that empty. And when I got
down on my knees in front of her and he began fucking her in earnest once
again, I wondered if I could ever survive being that full. Even an
experienced sissy like Isabella looked like she had trouble taking it. In
a way, I suppose she didn't survive. Her eyes went totally blank, her
mouth started dribbling gibberish, and I could see the soul get fucked
out of her body. She was just a fuck husk now, and there wasn't even
enough left of her to tell me how much she obviously loved it. That was
the part that scared me the most. What happens after you die? That's the
easy part, it's coming back to life that's scary. It's like bringing back
demons from Hell clinging to you, corrupting me, damning me forever to
see the world through a bitch's eyes. To have an asshole that twiches and
aches when it sees a fat cock. To feel an emptiness where I know nothing
should go in the first place. To watch the most beautiful creature I've
ever seen get the life fucked out of her and to be reborn in a newborn
wail of ecstasy, and to cover her face in cum as I jerked my tiny nub,
dreaming of being her...
"That's more like it, stud, cover that sissy's face with cum. Show her
who's boss. Unh unh FUCK!" Every muscle in his body surged as he emptied
a gallon of jism inside her burning cock hole. Her own cock jumped around
like a firehose that got away from the Firemen, spraying ribbons of cum
all over her legs and stomach. I fell back, spent. Cursing myself,
cursing my step-father, but most of all, cursing Isabella. I remembered
my anger now and I vowed never again would I feel sorry for her or put
myself in her shoes.
"The important thing to remember, is that whether your cock is too big or
ahem....too small, with sissies it doesn't matter. They exist for your
pleasure. And if you show them confidence and inner strength, they will
surrender gratefully. Do you understand now, Byron?" He looked at me
expectantly, patiently even, I almost fooled myself into seeing the
embers of kindness glowing in his eyes as well.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself. Confidently as I've ever said
anything, I replied, "Yes, sir. I've learned my lesson and then some. I
can't wait to show this bitch who's boss." I felt a angry energy building
inside me, and at that moment, I really believed I could be a Master
after all.
"Good, because now I want you to get cleaned up, put on some normal
clothes, and follow me. I'm going to show you what's behind door number
two. I'm going to show you what it's really like to be a trophy sissy."
I was a little perplexed by his ominous tone. I thought I already knew
what it was like to be a trophy sissy. Honestly it wasn't much different
from the life I already had. You got to lay around all day doing nothing,
enjoying all the luxuries someone else has strived so hard to work for.
About the only differences I could see was you didn't get to leave the
premises unescorted and you got fucked all the time. Still I was doing a
pretty good job of convincing myself that last part was a bad thing. And
as I looked at myself in the mirror, having just washed my face of the
make up and cum, I vowed once again to find a way to prove my manhood.
"I don't have all day, Byron. Unlike yours, my time is actually worth
something." I jumped in a rather unmanly fashion as his voice bursts
through the door and hurriedly get dressed in a plain white button up
shirts and khaki slacks. I didn't want anything too colorful sending the
wrong message. I gave myself one last pep talk and emerged from the
restroom with my head held high. Well as high as I could at five feet
three inches.
"Finally. Now don't dawdle. Byron. We'll start off by showing you the
sissy's quarters." I nodded, resolutely I hope, and followed my step-
father with Isabella trailing closely behind. Her perfume teased my
nostrils, reminding me of her tantalizing taste, but I shook the image
from my head and focused on our little tour instead. I was perplexed, we
had already passed all of the guest wings, and each of my brother's
personal wings. The rest of the grounds were common rooms and I couldn't
figure out where we were heading. When we finally reached the door to the
basement, my heart stopped.
"Why do you look so surprised, boy? Surely you didn't think we let
sissies live upstairs with us. Some liberal, lawless households might
allow that, but most men of means recognize that a sissy's place is out
of sight until there services are required. The only way they can come
upstairs is during designated walks or if a Master calls on their
services. Sissies like Isabella, Cunt and Lola can stay in their Master's
room at their discretion, but a good Master doesn't spoil his sissy with
too much attention or comfort." Every word hit like a nail on my coffin,
burying me alive as I entered the dark claustrophobic cozy corridor. I
had always been terrified of the basement, and it was the one part of the
house no one ever had to bar me from. But I didn't want Darren to see me
shiver or to know about my fear of the dark and tight spaces. I held my
breath counting each step as I tried not to imagine living down here,
finally able to exhale when we got down to a more open area and he turned
on the lights...
"Gasp!" My relief was short lived as the sight of the 'sissy foyer'
loomed before me. Cages hung on the walls enough to house an army of
sissies. Sleeping snugly in the cages were all of the family's sissies
save for Cunt, and if she was with Darius, I'd almost rather be locked
up. Isabella smiled wickedly at me, as if to say 'Like what you see?'...
"As a Master this room is your own personal candy store. You can select
as many unowned sissies as you'd like and let them loose. You can imagine
how grateful they will be for your attention. As a sissy however, it is a
long torturous grind of dull nothingness. But don't feel too bad for
them, we do allow them plenty of playtime during the day as well." He
leads me down another corridor, plain white walls and halogen lighting
giving it the air of an abandoned hospital, or a morgue. Finally I come
to a large open room, filled with stocks, locks, and a barrel of fun...if
you were the Marque de Sade. Chains hung from the ceiling, were attached
to the walls, and were bolted down to the floors. Everywhere I turned
there was another more painful looking device to hold me firmly, leaving
me helpless and exposed to any pleasure or pain anyone might capriciously
inflict upon me. "This is the playroom. If they are good gurls, we let
them play with the toys on their own. If they are bad gurls, well...I
don't think you're quite ready for that image. We wouldn't want to
disturb your beauty sleep."
He leads me to another room, almost as big as the playroom, this one
filled with exercise equipment. I suddenly realized how the sissies kept
so perfectly fit. God, they must have to exercise an hour a day. A
month's worth would be more than I'd exerted in my entire life. "The
sissies are expected to keep in perfect shape, as decided by their
owners. They exercise a good four hours a day, everyday, well except
Christmas of course. We only make them exercise two hours on the
holidays. We aren't monsters after all." I thought I might collapse just
from the strain of imagining all that effort. I was feeling more and more
lightheaded, the tour taking on the shape of a waking nightmare. The
walls seemed to be sliding closer and closer, the lights dimming...I
prayed silently that the tour was almost over...
"The tour is almost over, which should tell you something about the
spartan simplicity of a sissy's life. Only two more stops. First, on your
left you'll see the shower room. Communal of course." I hear an evil
giggle from behind me and I know I never want to be in those showers
surrounded by a bunch of frustrated sissies looking to blow off some
steam. "And on the right, is our world class cafeteria."
I step inside the plain room. A few tables with benches are bolted to the
ground. I follow him back to the kitchen where I see giant pots warming
on the stove. "Now you might have imagined sissies dining on the same
delicacies you regularly enjoy. And to be sure, when entertaining at
parties or serving their master, they might get to enjoy sucking the
scraps from a man's fingers. But in order to keep within their desired
weights and figures, they eat from these." I noticed the pots all had
names engraved in them, no doubt with different dietary supplements and
who knows what else. I looked at the gray paste like texture and smelled
the smell of sour oats and couldn't keep from gagging a little.
"Now you see what a sissy's life is truly like. And this is just the tip
of the iceberg. They live to please others and the only pleasure they get
is in service to that goal. But don't think I showed you this to give you
some misguided sympathy for them. They are pets, toys, holes...and if I
EVER see you getting used like a sissy cum dump again," He pulled me by
my shirt so I'm at eye level, my feet dangling just above the ground,
"then this will be your new home. I don't care who you think you are.
Trust me, I can make you disappear. And no one will bat an eye at the
vaguely familiar looking new addition to my harem. Is that understood,
boy?" He dropped me to the ground, sending me sprawling into Isabella's
waiting arms...
"I...uh...yes...I mean, yes, sir, I understand." He simply nodded and
walked off, leaving me down in the dark with my new pet. My mind reeling
as I tried to process all I'd just seen and heard. I couldn't let this
happen to me...I wouldn't. I would ignore the heart wrenching empathy I
felt towards Isabella and force myself to treat her the way she seemed to
want to be treated. I sighed as she stroked my hair, holding my tight
against her...
"You heard him, Master. If you get caught sucking my cock or taking it up
that tight little ass again, you'll be one of us." hearing it from her
lips made it sound even more terrifying. I wanted nothing more than to
run from her tender touch and never see her again. But I didn't know my
way back on my own. Besides, she seemed to understand my predicament so I
figured she wouldn't try the same tricks on me twice...that is, until she
started sucking softly on my ear, flicking her tongue in and out of it
before whispering, "So we'll just have to make sure we don't get
caught..."
I felt her erection pressing up against my cheeks...I struggled to sound
forceful, to respond with an unwavering refusal, to put her in her place,
but all that came out was..."whimper."
Yvette
- 01.07.2022
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