The Alex Chronicles

Billy’s supper

I really wish I could jerk off. Despite My tears as a result of humiliating punishment, which the slave in me admits was deserved, My inner slave was overwhelmed with the feeling that I am truly being trained and put under strict control—which is just what I have always wanted. Now that it’s happening, someone might suppose that I would want to back away now that I realize what it’s like, but that isn’t what’s going on in me. Am I submitting just because it is Billy who is dominating me? I can’t say, and besides, that doesn’t matter. Billy has claimed me and that means that I don’t have to even think about trying to find someone else. What would I do if He decided to cut me free? I don’t know and it isn’t worth the mental energy even think about it.

Now I have another difficult situation to cope with and my anxiety level is rising. I don’t know how to cook much, and I am afraid that Billy will be disappointed with what I’m able to come up with.
He comes into the kitchen, comes up behind me, and puts His arm around me. He kisses me on the neck and sucks it a bit to leave yet another mark. I settle back against him. Once He finishes with my neck He says to me, “What’s the matter, baby boy? A good slave gets joy from obeying its Master, but you look very distressed.”

I almost start to cry again because my emotions are on the surface after what’s happened. I remember that Billy wants transparency, so I speak the truth: “Master, I’m not much of a cook and I’m afraid that what I produce will disappoint you.”

“Good boy for telling me. Don’t worry. I will teach you how to cook, starting now.” And with that, He patiently instructs me, step by step, what to do and how to do it. He offers lots of encouragement and praise and He is correct: I draw great pleasure from doing exactly what He tells me, step by step, each little obedience increasing my happiness and steps up my love for him. It doesn’t take long before the meal is complete and Master tells me what a good job I did. I plate the food and put it on the table for Him, and the pour Him a glass of milk as requested. “You should be very proud of what you accomplished, alex. You are going to do fine in the kitchen, and I like the fact that I am able to turn you into exactly the kind of cook I want. It’s so much easier to train a slave when you can start from scratch with it, so this will be fun for me.”
“thank You, Master. This slave is happy it will give You an occasion to have some fun.”
“Good boy. Now take off your apron and crawl under the table so you can show my feet how much you want to become my good slave while I’m having my dinner.”

Just a tiny bit of resentment which I quickly push away and remember what He told me before: A good slave gets joy from obeying its Master.” I make a resolution that I will use those words as a mantra. And it is true: the moment I crawl under the table and touch His foot with my hand, waves of pleasure flow through me, and as I start to nibble and suck on His toes I can feel my cock pressing against its cage. Wow! What a surprise: being His foot slave is turning me on. And I go at it with love and devotion, sucking, nibbling, massaging, licking, doing all the things that He’s been teaching me to do, things that solidify the reality that I am His slave and know my place. While I suck on His left foot, He takes the other one and toys with my nipple. I reach a wonderful depth of sub space: nothing else exists in the world except for His feet and I am doing exactly what it is that I need to be doing: obeying my Master in all things.

Supper finished, He backs up His chair and stands up. “Get up and clean the kitchen. Make sure it’s potless or you’ll feel My strap. And when you’re finished, come inside and get back down there on My feet where you belong, slave, until I decide something else for you to do for me.”

I go about my chores. This is really something significant: before, in my sad freedom, I would have just left everything the way it is and worry about it in the morning. Now, as a slave, I catch myself focusing every ounce of My concentration on doing what needs to be done to clean things up and make this kitchen sparkle. This is vitally important to me, and not just so that I can escape a lashing with His strap. That doesn’t matter. Damn! I WANT to make things perfect in this room. Pans scraped and washed, dishes cleaned and put away, wiping up all the grease from the stove top, washing the table, all these domestic chores that I’ve always chosen to slack off on. Not now. I’m not in my apartment; I’m a slave and want to please my Master more than anything else.
All this done, I wash and dry my hands and go into the living room where I see Billy sitting on the couch in His briefs watching a movie. Damn, He’s so beautiful, and He is mine to serve and love. He looks up at me and smiles. “I’m not going to get up and check your work. I’m trusting you to do a good job, slaveboy. Now stand before me and put your hands behind your back.” He takes a couple clips and binds my wrists then spins me around. “down, boy. You know what to do.” As gracefully as I possibly can, I first kneel on the floor and then bend down. He puts out a hand to help me. “Get to work, pig,” He says. It is a little difficult at first with my hands behind my back, and I actually end up falling onto His foot while He chuckles at me. I open my mouth and He sticks all of His toes in there and presses further and further into my throat. I find myself salivating again, andmMy cock straining against its cage again. Back into sub space: lick, suck, nibble, do everything I can to make Master feel good.

He speaks to me: “I don’t know what I like more, alex: how good you make my feet feel, or how good I feel knowing that the brat I knew back in high school is now serving me like a pig slave just because I told it to. I looked forward to this day, alex, to the day when I’d see you down in the place where you belong. Things are set right now: I’ve pushed you down and you eagerly let me. Damn, I wish the other guys in our class could see you now, sucking toes and licking up the jam between them. You’re such a lowlife faggot, alex. I should film it and send it to alumni of the Grammar School. They’d probably get a good chuckle out of it. Maybe I’ll film you doing this and post it to YouTube. But enough of this now, boy. Get yourself up Here and suck this cock that you’ve been lusting after for the past few hours.”