Why do masters have to be tops and slaves bottoms? Why can't twinks be tops and beefy hunks be vociferous bottoms? Why can't masters and slaves switch roles or turn the tables on each other? Is he with the biggest cock always an alpha? Welcome to an adventure into the mind of an unconventional vers switch, a world with dominant bottoms and submissive tops, twink masters, hunky slaves, and power struggles between them, blurring the lines of distinction. Chat & questions welcome.
He nervously walked in to my office, scanning the room before bringing his attention to me. "Yeah, are you Mr. Gregory?"
"Yes," I replied. "Who are you and why are you here?"
"Um, my dad...he said it was urgent I come to this address after lacrosse practice. I'm Spencer Fuller," he answered in a cautious manner.
"Ah, yes, Spencer Harrison Fuller the Fifth, son of Spencer Harrison Fuller the Fourth," I said pulling his file from a manilla folder. "A bit of a preppy name you got there."
"Uh, yeah. I guess so. Why am I here?" he said with a look of bewilderment.
"Well, your father has defaulted on a loan I made to him, a loan your father has used to finance your tuition to your expensive preppy New England college, the mortgage on your condo on fraternity row, the fees for you to play club lacrosse, and the fees for your membership in your fraternity. It has proven too much for him to handle just so you can live up to that preppy name of yours."
"What does that mean?" he asked, a worried look falling over his face.
I held up the paperwork. "Based on the loan documents signed by your father and acknowledged and agreed to by you, I am entitled to take possession of the collateral for the loan."
"What did he use as collateral?" the jock stud asked.
"You. So unless you can payback the $820,000 in full for him, I will be taking possession of you and you will officially and legally become my slave."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mumbled, pacing about the floor staring at the ceiling. "This can't be happening to me."
"It has happened to you. You signed the paperwork."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. A slave? I hate manual labor. Working 12 hours a day, no breaks, every day. Fuck!"
"Preppy boy, preppy boy, preppy boy, who said I intend to use you for manual labor? A good looking jock like you, with a hot body and pretty face? I'd be inclined to use you for my own personal gratification."
"What, like gay shit? I'm not gay," he protested.
"Ask yourself what would you hate more, hard manual labor out in the elements day after day, or the comfort of my mansion providing me pleasure when the mood arises?"
"Fuck! So I have sex with you and that's it?"
"'That's it?' I'm afraid not dear boy. You seem to be disinclined to be obedient and shameless in your devotion to me. I expect my personal slaves to be both."
"Obedient and shameless? I can do that."
"Can you? Let's see how shameless you can be, preppy boy. Take those shorts off, turn around and bend over grabbing your toes to show that ass off to me. Good boy, now spread those legs apart and go lower. Excellent. Now standup and turn around facing me and drop those shorts."
He obeyed and grinned, "See. I can be shameless in showing off my body for a gay guy."
"We're just getting started, boy." His smile fell flat into a more worried look. "Pull that jersey off so I can see more of that upper body. Very nice. Now turn around and bend back over to show me your hole. No, don't grab your ankles, grab your ass and pull those cheeks apart for me," I said as I unzipped my pants and started playing with myself. "OK, stand back up, boy." He turned around and put his hands on his hips as he watched me start jacking off.
"I guess I should take it as a compliment you're turned on by me."
"I'm turned on more by the power I have over you than your body, preppy boy. Getting straight elitist jock boys like yourself to do humiliating things for an outta-shaped middle age gay man satisfies me. So pull that cock out of that jock and man spread, hands on your knees. Watch me jack off the cock you are going to learn to suck and get fucked by." He stared intently as my 7.5 incher reached full hardness. "You want this in your mouth, boy?"
"Not particularly," he replied.
"Well, you need something in that pretty mouth of yours. Take that jock off and put it between your teeth." He complied and almost seemed to be smiling as he held it up. Frankly I expected him to resist that command more than he did so I upped the ante and ordered him to put the pouch of the jock over his nose and take three deep breathes. When he obeyed without question, I decided it was time for him to lose the pads and start showing me his cock.
I tossed him a bottle of lube and ordered him to get his cock hard. "I must admit, boy, I'm surprised you performed as well as you did without more resistance. Your attitude earlier made me think you would be more adverse to the humiliation and having a gay man jack himself off focusing on you."
"I guess all the shit I did for pledge week for my frat is paying off. Fuck, I even had to lick a guy's dick for five minutes and take a finger up my ass for five minutes."
I laughed. "You know we're going to get more hardcore than that, right?"
"Yeah," he replied, "we did some gay shit at our frat parties too, but I know that pales compared to what you want from me. I know I can take it as well as I give it." He turned to his side to show off his length. He was packing about 8 to 8.5 inches himself. "You like what I got?"
"Not bad, but I think I'm going to enjoy that straight boy pussy more than your boy clit," I joked. He took my kidding in stride. "Lay down on your back and put those legs up." I stood up and walked over to stand over him as he continued showing off his cock, legs in the air as if waiting to get fucked.
"You like tube steak, Sir?"
I do, but deflected from answering. "You finally called me 'Sir.' Good boy. You can put your legs down," I said as I returned to my chair.
"I guess I ought to be adding that to everything I say, Sir." He jacked off a few more minutes as I watched. He even started to playfully wink at me as he worked his cock. "I assume I need permission to cum, Sir?" he respectfully asked.
"I was going to let it slide this time, but yes. You orgasm by permission only. Sit up on the stool in the corner there. When you get close, I want you to cum on your helmet."
"Ok, Sir," he replied somewhat perplexed. He slide the helmet between his legs and jacked off, looking to me to give him the word.
"Cum," I commanded. He looked down to aim his cock and four spurts of his man cream dribbled out onto the top of the helmet. "Now pick the helmet up and lick the cum off."
I could see the hesitation in his eyes: the straight man's fear of cum, especially in his mouth. But he obeyed, slowly raising the helmet up, sticking out his tongue and raking it across the top as he stared intently at me. I let out a devilish grin. The boy definitely was in need of training, but quite frankly performed better than I had expected from someone from such a preppy background.
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He nervously walked in to my office, scanning the room before bringing his attention to me. "Yeah, are you Mr. Gregory?"
"Yes," I replied. "Who are you and why are you here?"
"Um, my dad...he said it was urgent I come to this address after lacrosse practice. I'm Spencer Fuller," he answered in a cautious manner.
"Ah, yes, Spencer Harrison Fuller the Fifth, son of Spencer Harrison Fuller the Fourth," I said pulling his file from a manilla folder. "A bit of a preppy name you got there."
"Uh, yeah. I guess so. Why am I here?" he said with a look of bewilderment.
"Well, your father has defaulted on a loan I made to him, a loan your father has used to finance your tuition to your expensive preppy New England college, the mortgage on your condo on fraternity row, the fees for you to play club lacrosse, and the fees for your membership in your fraternity. It has proven too much for him to handle just so you can live up to that preppy name of yours."
"What does that mean?" he asked, a worried look falling over his face.
I held up the paperwork. "Based on the loan documents signed by your father and acknowledged and agreed to by you, I am entitled to take possession of the collateral for the loan."
"What did he use as collateral?" the jock stud asked.
"You. So unless you can payback the $820,000 in full for him, I will be taking possession of you and you will officially and legally become my slave."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mumbled, pacing about the floor staring at the ceiling. "This can't be happening to me."
"It has happened to you. You signed the paperwork."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. A slave? I hate manual labor. Working 12 hours a day, no breaks, every day. Fuck!"
"Preppy boy, preppy boy, preppy boy, who said I intend to use you for manual labor? A good looking jock like you, with a hot body and pretty face? I'd be inclined to use you for my own personal gratification."
"What, like gay shit? I'm not gay," he protested.
"Ask yourself what would you hate more, hard manual labor out in the elements day after day, or the comfort of my mansion providing me pleasure when the mood arises?"
"Fuck! So I have sex with you and that's it?"
"'That's it?' I'm afraid not dear boy. You seem to be disinclined to be obedient and shameless in your devotion to me. I expect my personal slaves to be both."
"Obedient and shameless? I can do that."
"Can you? Let's see how shameless you can be, preppy boy. Take those shorts off, turn around and bend over grabbing your toes to show that ass off to me. Good boy, now spread those legs apart and go lower. Excellent. Now standup and turn around facing me and drop those shorts."
He obeyed and grinned, "See. I can be shameless in showing off my body for a gay guy."
"We're just getting started, boy." His smile fell flat into a more worried look. "Pull that jersey off so I can see more of that upper body. Very nice. Now turn around and bend back over to show me your hole. No, don't grab your ankles, grab your ass and pull those cheeks apart for me," I said as I unzipped my pants and started playing with myself. "OK, stand back up, boy." He turned around and put his hands on his hips as he watched me start jacking off.
"I guess I should take it as a compliment you're turned on by me."
"I'm turned on more by the power I have over you than your body, preppy boy. Getting straight elitist jock boys like yourself to do humiliating things for an outta-shaped middle age gay man satisfies me. So pull that cock out of that jock and man spread, hands on your knees. Watch me jack off the cock you are going to learn to suck and get fucked by." He stared intently as my 7.5 incher reached full hardness. "You want this in your mouth, boy?"
"Not particularly," he replied.
"Well, you need something in that pretty mouth of yours. Take that jock off and put it between your teeth." He complied and almost seemed to be smiling as he held it up. Frankly I expected him to resist that command more than he did so I upped the ante and ordered him to put the pouch of the jock over his nose and take three deep breathes. When he obeyed without question, I decided it was time for him to lose the pads and start showing me his cock.
I tossed him a bottle of lube and ordered him to get his cock hard. "I must admit, boy, I'm surprised you performed as well as you did without more resistance. Your attitude earlier made me think you would be more adverse to the humiliation and having a gay man jack himself off focusing on you."
"I guess all the shit I did for pledge week for my frat is paying off. Fuck, I even had to lick a guy's dick for five minutes and take a finger up my ass for five minutes."
I laughed. "You know we're going to get more hardcore than that, right?"
"Yeah," he replied, "we did some gay shit at our frat parties too, but I know that pales compared to what you want from me. I know I can take it as well as I give it." He turned to his side to show off his length. He was packing about 8 to 8.5 inches himself. "You like what I got?"
"Not bad, but I think I'm going to enjoy that straight boy pussy more than your boy clit," I joked. He took my kidding in stride. "Lay down on your back and put those legs up." I stood up and walked over to stand over him as he continued showing off his cock, legs in the air as if waiting to get fucked.
"You like tube steak, Sir?"
I do, but deflected from answering. "You finally called me 'Sir.' Good boy. You can put your legs down," I said as I returned to my chair.
"I guess I ought to be adding that to everything I say, Sir." He jacked off a few more minutes as I watched. He even started to playfully wink at me as he worked his cock. "I assume I need permission to cum, Sir?" he respectfully asked.
"I was going to let it slide this time, but yes. You orgasm by permission only. Sit up on the stool in the corner there. When you get close, I want you to cum on your helmet."
"Ok, Sir," he replied somewhat perplexed. He slide the helmet between his legs and jacked off, looking to me to give him the word.
"Cum," I commanded. He looked down to aim his cock and four spurts of his man cream dribbled out onto the top of the helmet. "Now pick the helmet up and lick the cum off."
I could see the hesitation in his eyes: the straight man's fear of cum, especially in his mouth. But he obeyed, slowly raising the helmet up, sticking out his tongue and raking it across the top as he stared intently at me. I let out a devilish grin. The boy definitely was in need of training, but quite frankly performed better than I had expected from someone from such a preppy background.