Being Masterful

The rules of the game

The flat was cold. I had been home only briefly after work at tea time. I led my charge into the sitting room and turned on the gas fire, before turning to look at what I had brought home. Out of politeness I asked him his name. He gave me his first name as Aaron but deflected the question of his surname. That was fine by me.

I instructed him to remove his jacket, and only his jacket. I liked the picture of his semi-erect cock poking out beneath his shirt. However much I intended to pace the evening I could not resist taking hold of his balls straight away. His sack permitted them to hang about an inch from his body. I prefer it when a man's balls dangle a little in their sack. It allows me to take them and rest them in the palm of my hand while wrapping my fingers fully around them. It's a minor point but I do believe these details are important. It is less satisfying when a man has balls tight up under his cock because then they are a little more difficult to feel, and thus possess, in their entirety. Of course it is perfectly possible to take a grip, stretch the sack, and pull them down, but this is something I like to save for later in the proceedings. Enslaving a man involves a series of interconnecting progressive steps. It does not do to fire off all the ammunition at once.

By the time I had fondled him thoroughly he was rock hard. I unfastened his shirt for a clearer view and examined his pole, first with my fingers, and then by wrapping my hand fully around it. He was maybe an inch shorter than me and slight of stature, by which I don't mean weedy. He was nicely formed - which made his now erect cock look generous in size. It was, ever so slightly, bigger than one would expect by comparison with his body size and that made him look suitably rampant. A man, when stripped naked, should not simply get an erection, he should look fired-up. “Rampant” is a good old-fashioned word. A couple of centuries ago - long before we got into a mess with sexism and unnecessary mincing of words - a gentleman's sexual prowess was something to be considered, gauged and admired by all. Men were supposed to be rampant, unbridled and unrestrained in their display. A titled lady once famously remarked, “before the invention of the button-up fly you knew exactly how much a man admired you”.

Similarly, I took a minute or two to admire my new catch. He was beautify mannered and civilised, yet the animal shone through.

I took hold of his balls and stretched his sack a little. “Do you feel the pressure?” As I mentioned earlier, a little 'slack' in the scrotum allows me to create the sensation that the man is being separated from his balls.

He nodded.

I said, “Say 'yes Sir'.”

He dutifully complied.

“I want you to understand the significance of what I am doing. I am taking control of the things that make you a man. Repeat after me, 'my balls belong to you as of now, Sir'.”

He repeated the words as instructed. This is important because words cement ideas and crystallise thoughts. That is, after all, why people are required to swear oaths. The right words can turn a vague notion into a firm commitment.

I dragged his balls to me and his body involuntarily followed. He was tight against my chest now. I could feel his chest rising and falling, his breath was warm on my neck and I could smell his scent. His breathing was heavy as I leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “In the coming hours I am going to turn you into my slave. Tonight you exist purely to please me. Understand?

He replied with a 'yes Sir'. The boy learned fast.

“Get on your knees, take off my shoes and socks and then kiss my right foot.”

He dropped to to the carpet, started to obey, but then I grabbed his short hair and yanked his head back so he had to look up at me. “When I give you an order you acknowledge it by saying 'yes, Master'. If you forget I will punish you.”

There was a grimace on his face. I had taken him by surprise with my first display of force. “Yes, Master.” There was true stress in his voice.

I watched as he unfastened my shoes and removed my socks. He still had on his shirt which I had unbuttoned fully. I looked down on his smooth, wonderfully defined chest and stomach with his erect cock jutting out horizontally between his spread thighs, his light skin standing out against the brown carpet, the glow from the gas fire bathing the scene in a warm amber patina.

We both knew, one way or another, he was going to get fucked silly in the coming hours. I was formulating a plan; I had some idea how the evening would progress whereas he did not. I was going to savour the journey, meanwhile I wanted it to play on his mind. That must be an important element in his subjugation. I wanted to be able to sense his apprehension; that fear-thrill moment before the fairground big-dipper drops you into the abyss and your stomach is in your mouth. He had elected to play a grown up game because he wanted to experience the frisson of fear. He wanted to go beyond 'normal' sexual arousal and I understood why. In an age and place when casual sex was freely available - especially to the young and good-looking - he had already become bored. If he was now 23 and he probably had some sexual experiences from, say 16, that meant nearly eight years of repetitive sexual encounters. He needed more, as did I. To explain why, I'm going to digress for a moment.

Some months earlier I had bedded a pleasant young man and in the apres-sex conversation he told me he worked for British Telecom. Had we been living anywhere in the country other than London this would have meant he was a telephone repair man in a van.

However, London has gathered so much power to itself over the centuries that it almost overflows the capacity to contain it. Luckily, the city attracts talent from all over the country and indeed across the planet. The consequence is that absurdly young people get their hands on all the levers of power that need to be adjusted second by second, night and day.

This affable young man lying next to me said he worked in the Security Building. The subject came up because he was gay and was required to disclose any issues that might render him liable to blackmail. The anonymous building in which he worked was the hub that tapped into every national trunk cable, and more recently, to the parts of the global data network that connected through London. He had access to every data flow that passed in or out, or was routed via, the UK. In earlier times it had been necessary for the police to obtain a warrant signed by the Home Secretary to listen in on phone calls. In the modern world, this kid, assistant to the Director, had fingertip control over half the world's communications, and by extension the interconnects to UK and many foreign security services.

When you are young you simply accept whatever is going on around you as 'normal'. I simply replied, “Oh, that's interesting.”

Similarly, I now suspected that the young man kneeling naked before me was not a nobody. My guess he was a player of significance in the legal or financial professions. Many things gave the clue, specifically the adroit way he dodged divulging his surname.

Back then, I was part of a loose community of intelligent and fiercely ambitious young men. Ambition means an all-consuming need to adventure into the unknown, and this facet of our characters extended into our sex lives.

I have conducted detailed studies of the male sexual organs, as you would expect, and marvelled at the diversity of testicle configuration and penis sizes and shapes. In order to control your man you have to understand the little things - about men in general, and the one you are currently 'handling'. Testicles, of course, come in a range of sizes and a variety of ways they are contained in the scrotum - from tight to positively pendulous. The morphology also changes according to sexual arousal, erection of the penis, temperature and fear.

Sensitivity to pain and pleasure also varies considerably. To extract the maximum response from your subject you need to know these parameters. I can play a man like the exquisitely delicate instrument he is deep down. I want my man to enjoy the gradual decent into captivity. First of all he will be wary. Then he will become accustomed to the routine of following orders. Finally, we enter the zone where we both look forward to whatever the next stage may be. In other words, whatever actions I decide to apply or inflict. I want my man to actively embrace and seek out the increasing intensity of the moment. I want him to be hooked on the drug that is total submission. To make this work, to get maximum effect, the process must be gradual and managed with finesse.

The reward, especially when you see a tough straight man 'off his head' as the sensation of complete abandonment of self control takes affect, is beyond anything else you can imagine.

I let a couple of minutes pass while the kneeling figure pressed his face against my right foot. One of the key preliminary components of submission is patience. Your man must learn to be resigned to his fate. “Take off my trousers,” I ordered.

He unfastened my belt, top button and zip before easing down my light blue cotton chinos. With due deference he threaded them off my legs while I steadied myself with one hand on his right shoulder. I ordered him back, face on my foot, and then to slowly work his face up my inside leg until he reached my balls, whereupon I had him nuzzle into them.

My cock was horizontal, pulled tight to the left by my close-fitting briefs. “Run your face along my cock and check how big it is.”

Aaron slid his mouth up from my balls and diligently traversed my very hard member with his lips. “Get the measure of this because you are going to have to take it all.”

He parked his face at the head, more or less level with my left hip bone and waited for my next instruction.

I haven't finished the story of this young man - in fact I have barely started. I am a tease, but there again, that is one of the key mechanisms for enslavement. A good and considerate master takes care to 'bring along' the novice, emotionally, at the right pace. In days of old I would have been able to imprison my new slave until I next had a use for him. In modern times it is necessary to 'ignite the flame', to have the new man go over the first training session again and again in his head until he can think of nothing else and wants - needs - to return for more. I am not writing fiction. These stories are not some fantasy of my imagination. This is all real-life, twenty-first century enslavement that I really practise . The days are long gone when you could simply whip a man into submission. Nowadays some serious psychological conditioning is necessary if you are to achieve the desired lasting result.

I'm going to come back to this story in episode four, but next time, look out for “Being Masterful 3: interview with a hard man”. A true anecdote from a man on his way from police custody to prison. And if you want to subscribe to “How to train a slave 101” take a look at my website (with instructional videos): enslaver.uk

Need advice on training your slave? You only have to ask.