Bringing Down The Marcster

The first time I saw Marc Lander I was bar-backing at Brouwers Of Stone Street. I was thirty-two and new in the city. Stockbrokers run in packs and they tend to get a lot of attention where ever they go. I have often wondered why people would prefer the company of a greedy, lazy narcissistic asshole over a cop, a teacher or even a doctor. But it's true; stockbrokers are treated like royalty in New York. They were all handsome, well dressed big spenders; the toast of Wall Street. Shelby was my roommate and a waitress at Brouwers. She was also the reason that Marc was slumming at our modest pub that day. She had been 'dating' him for a few weeks and her stories about the handsome, athletic charmer were not exaggerated. He was tall and lean with light brown hair and brilliant, blue eyes. He was twenty-five and probably making well over a quarter of a million dollars a year.

He patted me on the back saying, 'I need you to clear this table buddy. And let Shelby know that the Marcster is here!' There were three tables ready to go but 'the Marcster' seemed like the type of person that enjoyed bossing people around. He was also a little buzzed and trying to show off in front of his douche bag friends. I did his bidding with a red face. I was seven years his senior and he was treating me like his 'boy.' His pack of friends surrounded the table so fast that I could barely do my job. I was stacking the dishes when Marc patted me on the back again saying, 'Buddy...go get Shelby!' I was so flustered that I knocked a glass of ale onto the lap of his Christian Dior trousers. He stood cursing while his friends laughed hysterically. 'What are you a fucking retard?' Shelby arrived with a towel and a smile and I took a very long break before deciding that bar-backing was not my thing.

The next day Shelby called me from Marc's Upper East Side residence. She apologized for Marc's behavior and invited me to come by his place to use the rooftop pool. It was summer and I love to swim so I accepted the offer. Marc's place was surprisingly small but immaculately furnished with chic, ultra modern décor. Shelby and I plundered his well stocked liquor cabinet and his bedroom. His closet looked like a rack from Saks 5th Avenue with Armani Black Label, Dior, Valentino and Joseph Aboud suits neatly displayed. After our swim Shelby took a nap while I watched cable on his gigantic, high-def TV. While lounging on his Natuzzi leather sofa I felt something pressing against my neck. Between the cushions of Marc's plushy, leather pelted sofa rested a lost, little black book. Finding that book was like finding a magic key to Marc's secret world. It seems that rich people are never satisfied with being rich but it takes a special kind of person to risk everything for more. Marc's little book was filled with Wall Street secrets. He was an inside trader and it didn't take a genius to decipher his cryptic notes. I slipped the little black book in my pocket for future keeping.

I'll never forget the last time I saw Marc and Shelby together. They spent the night at our modest apartment. The tiny two bedroom in Chelsea was clean and very quaint but it was obvious that Marc felt uncomfortable there. I'm openly gay but it's difficult for people to figure me out. I don't wear my sexuality on my sleeve and I'm quiet. Marc lorded about the place like Prince Fauntleroy wearing only his black, boxer briefs and a diamond studded Rolex. His hairless, designer body made my pulse quicken as I found it difficult not to stare. Marc had large biceps, broad shoulders, defined pecs and ripped abs. His skin was pale and his shoulders were spattered with freckles. You would guess that he was probably a blond as a child as he had light colored underarm hair and pert, pink little nipples. Shelby was fast asleep as he rummaged in our refrigerator asking, 'Do you guys have anything other than Budweiser?' He was bent over with his head almost inside our tiny fridge. I stared at his sculpted ass that looked like something from a Sean Cody porn thinking, 'That is gonna be my property.' He popped open the Bud saying, 'I'll buy you guys some Heinekin.' He was well over six feet two inches tall and could have been an athlete, a model or even a movie star if his mind weren't warped by capitalism. He started asking me things like, 'How old are you? Did you and Shelby ever hook up?' When I told him I was gay he rolled his eyes and became immediately conscious of his nudity. Our conversation ended abruptly as Marc found his way behind Shelby's closed, bedroom door. Their relationship ended a week later when Marc forced Shelby to have sex with a beautiful Asian dancer while he and two of his friends watched.

She cried for a week over him as it was obvious that Marc had gotten what he wanted and moved on to a new distraction. A few months later she went back to Florida leaving me in New York with Marc and all of his best secrets. After Shelby was gone I purchased a 'Pay as you go' cell phone and programmed 'the Marcster' into the address book. I literally giggled the first time I texted him, 'I know your dirty secrets.' It took him a day to respond with, 'wtf r u?' I didn't write back for two days. To be honest I was still thinking of how I could lay claim to 'the marcster.' I had never blackmailed someone before and I was a little nervous. I fired off my next text on a Monday morning, 'acct. number 200015108, Chase Bank.' Seconds later he responded, '???.' I was chuckling out loud as I left his message unanswered till the next day with 'Google.' He responded immediately with, 'I don't know what you are talking about?' The following day I wrote, 'IBM' and his prompt response came politely, 'hey bro...let's have a beer.' I texted him, 'Friday 1AM, the Varsity.'

The Varsity is a gay, beer bar in Chelsea. Friday nights are slow there as everyone usually goes somewhere else. I wanted him to be uncomfortable and out of his element but I didn't need a room full of gawking, gay men to screw up my game. By 12am Marc arrived wearing the remnants of his Wall Street uniform; blue slacks, a crisp tailored shirt, a loose tie and no jacket. He was still gorgeous despite his disheveled hair and unkempt appearance. His face was wet with perspiration and his shirt had large, wet underarms. The man was a mess and that's exactly how I wanted him. He bought a Heineken and stared nervously around the room and then cast his eyes downward. With zero confidence and no sign of his old swagger he lumbered to a high top table and sipped his brew. I patted him on the back saying, 'let's move somewhere where we can talk.' He glared at me hissing, 'I should have known.' I nodded my head towards the dirtiest table in the bar saying, 'Walk this way buddy!' I smiled chiding, 'I need you to clear this table and fetch me a Budweiser draft. ' He stared at me for a moment and then reluctantly obeyed. By the time he came back to the table his tone was adjusted, 'Dude, I know that I was a dick to you. I'm sorry. Sometimes I just get so caught up in things. So...anyway...yeah.' I sipped the beer he bought me and tossed it in his face yelling, 'This shit is flat! Go get me another one.' He wiped his nose and sneered, 'Ok, I've had enough of this bullshit!' I shook my head and whispered, 'My cousin is a reporter for Forbes magazine. He has your little black book in a sealed envelope. If something happens to me he has been instructed that the contents are free game. Everyone in the world will know what a piece of shit you are. You're gonna lose everything and go to jail if you don't do exactly as your told.' He shook his head and bought me another beer. Nervously he sat it before me. As he went to take a seat I scolded him, 'No...You will stand there like a good boy until told otherwise. Got it?' He replied sheepishly, 'Yeah.' I yelled, 'YES SIR! You will call me SIR at all times!' The bartender looked up with a raised eyebrow as the Marcster croaked a rattled, 'Yes sir.' I honestly could have never carried on this way without a light buzz. But as I watched this handsome, powerful, young stud cave before me I could feel my cock throb like it had never done before. I had total power over this dude and I was going to exploit it. After a few minutes Marc whispered, 'May I speak?' I sipped my Budweiser draft and nodded him permission. His voice cracked as it seemed he was close to crying, 'I am...really, really sorry for what ever I did to you and Shelby. I feel terrible and I deserve everything you have done. That's why I went to the bank and got this for you today.' He pulled a white envelope out of his front pocket. The envelope was stuffed with hundred dollar bills. I flipped through the money laughing and asked, 'How much is in here?' He whispered, 'Ten thousand.' I nodded, removed two bills and handed him back the envelope. His expression was pure puzzlement as I said, 'My Dad is the biggest real estate developer in Florida. If I wanted ten thousand dollars I would call him. Besides you're a fool if you think that this amount of money is gonna shut me up. Follow me Marcster.'

He walked behind me to a 24 hour porn store. An Indian man stared at us with a terrified expression. I was tipsy and Marc looked like he was about to cry. I can't imagine what the Indian fellow was thinking but at this point I couldn't have cared less. The store was bright and filled with sex toys, videos and lube. I slapped Marc's two one hundred dollar bills on the glass case and said, 'I want to buy a cock cage for my friend here.' Marc's face went white with terror as the Indian gentleman stared at the money and smiled pleasantly. He opened his cabinet and sat a tray of various male chastity devices before me like I was purchasing a designer tie. I fiddled with the various devices passing the plastic CB 3000 up for a menacing, metal cage called, 'The Jailhouse.' I stared at Marc asking, 'Marc, you're not going to be flying anytime soon are you?' He swallowed hard and replied, 'I'm going to Lake Tahoe in two months Sir.' His face was twitching as I told the Indian man, 'This one will do for now. We can always come back later.' The Indian fellow smiled politely saying, 'The Jailhouse comes in tree sizes...small...medium and large. Which one should I get you?' I stared at Marc who was now trembling and shook my head, 'My friend that is a problem because I don't really know. Let's find out...shall we?' The Indian guy laughed as I patted Marc on the shoulder saying, 'Drop your pants buddy. This will only take a moment.' Marc stared around the room frantically replying, 'Here Sir?' I smacked him in the face and yelled, 'If I tell you to do something you don't EVER question me!' The shop keeper handled my outburst with elegance. I was surprised and a little impressed with his nonchalant attitude as Marc hurriedly unfastened his blue, designer slacks and slid down his pants and underwear in one sweep. His shirt tail hung over his flaccid penis. So I lifted it for the shop keeper to see. A young couple walked in the shop as I stood there exposing Marc. His face was beat red, his eyes filled with tears. The girl gasped as her boyfriend stared at us in complete shock. They looked like yuppies who had been clubbing and were on their way home. I imagined that they came into the shop looking for a cheap thrill and I was prepared to give them one. The attractive, young girl lounged against the glass case and eyeballed my half naked stock broker with a smirk as the Indian man said, 'He needs a small. Most definitely!' The girl leaned against her boyfriend asking, 'What are you buying him?' I handed her the cock cage saying, 'It's a male chastity device. You see my friend has been very bad and I am not going to let him have an erection for a while.' She stared at the cock cage saying, 'This is neat. So if he gets hard this thing will press against his thingy and probably hurt like hell?' I asked her if she wanted to do the honors and she giggled hysterically, 'YES! I'd love to!' Her boyfriend laughed nervously as he adjusted himself and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The young lady giggled as she fitted Marc into the cock cage and stared at me asking, 'Did I do it right.' Apparently Marc found this woman attractive because he began to squirm in agony as I replied, 'You did excellent.' I asked the shop keeper for a lock and he frowned saying, 'We cannot legally sell them.' The girl laughed and clapped saying, 'Oohh...I have one!' She fished a pink and gold luggage lock from her designer handbag chirping, 'It came off my Louis Vuitton suitcase and to be honest I've never used it!' I smirked as she applied the lock to Marc's cage illiciting more squirming and slight moans. She handed me the tiny key and I affixed it to my key chain. I smacked Marc on the ass saying, 'Go home boy and I'll text you later.' His face went white with confusion as he asked, 'Can I put my pants on Sir?' I nodded yes as the young lady high fived me saying, 'You have this guy trained well! Good work! ' She stared at her own boyfriend saying, 'Be good or I'm turning you over to this guy.'

Marc pulled on his slacks and scampered out of the store nervously. His eyes never left the ground as it was obvious he couldn't escape fast enough.

To be continued:

Bringing Down the Marcster

Chapter 2

I arrived at Marc's apartment at 1 am on a Saturday night. As instructed he left the door unlocked for me. A key to his apartment was waiting on the bar next to a bottle of my favorite whiskey, 'Jim Beam.' As instructed he had donated all of his furniture to a charity. He did a fine job finding a used recliner for me and it was placed in the middle of his large, empty dwelling. As instructed Marc purchased an octagon shaped end table from a junk store. In answer to my specific demands lay the four items I told him to make sure were there; a receipt from the charity,a leather bound paddle, a wooden paddle with holes carved in the center and a pair of spring tension nipple clamps on a chain. I sat in the chair and snapped my fingers, 'Come here boy. I want to have a look at you!'

It had been two weeks since I put the handsome stockbroker in a chastity device. He entered the room wearing only his designer, black boxers. His face was flushed red with shame as he stood meekly before me. His body was still sculpted to perfection for Marc had been maintaining his rigorous, gym regimen exclusively for my pleasure. The sight of him stole my breath as he stood before me like a statue carved out of polished, white marble. Marc Lander was twenty-five with dark hair and October blue eyes that almost sparkled when you looked into them. His features were fine like a young Paul Newman. At 6'2' tall he cut an impressive figure with broad shoulders, beefy biceps, perfectly shaped pecs, washboard abs and the sexiest, pink nipples I have ever seen on man. Two weeks before I had blackmailed the stockbroker with a book of illegal trade secrets. You see, Marc had been guilty of insider trading. I had enough evidence to ruin him and he knew that I was the only thing standing between him and a decade in prison.

'Be a good boy and fetch me a glass of whiskey, on the rocks.' Without thinking he scurried to the bar and fixed my drink. Like a whipped, little bitch Marc delivered my drink with his head bowed. I told him that whenever he served me a drink he had to kneel with his eyes down. I explained the basics of a sex slave to him saying, 'You should never look your Master in the eye unless told to. You should never speak to me unless I speak to you. If you find yourself needing a question answered then I advise you to think long and hard before asking. A stupid question will result in a painful punishment. But if you still feel the need to ask...there is a way to do it. I want you to put your face on my feet. You are to kiss my feet and say, 'Sir...this slave begs permission to speak.' Any deviance from this ritual will result in extreme discomfort for you. Do you understand me boy?' I took my drink as Marc replied, 'Sir, YES SIR!' I sipped the whiskey thinking that Marc had done a fine job of moving past the denial phase of slavery into an acceptance. I laughed as I stared at him still kneeling with his head obediently bowed. You must understand that I wasn't forcing Marc to do anything; I had only given him choices. And in my opinion he was smart enough to know better than to cross me.

I stood gripping the Marcster (as he once referred to himself as) by the ear. He whinced as I jerked him to his feet. I pulled on that poor boy's ear so hard that he was standing on his tip toes and breathing heavily through his nose, 'I want you to stand on your tip toes for me like this while you remove your boxers.' Marc wiggled his hips as he slid the black boxer briefs as low as he could while standing on his tippy toes. He let one foot go flat and I answered his mistake with a sharp whack of my leather bound paddle. He yelped like a wounded dog as he stood back on his tippy toes attempting to step out of his underwear. The captive stud must have felt ridiculous when he lost his balance and collapsed onto the floor. I began spanking his perfectly, shaped ass with fervor. He scrambled to his feet hurriedly to stand back on his toes. For good measure I spanked him a few more times. My dick was throbbing as his rounded buttocks began to glow pink. My heart was racing as I marveled at his flexing muscles straining in the awkward position. 'Put your hands on the back of your head boy!' Marc was breathing harshly as I circled him. I took in the sight of his hairless body sweating under strain. His blondish underarm hair shone exquisitely under the recessed low, lighting of his empty apartment. I stared at the cock cage and his captive member fitted perfectly inside. Marc looked natural in the device like a man that was born to be enslaved. I tipped his chin up and stared into his brilliant, blue eyes asking, 'How does this cock cage make you feel Marcster?' His voiced trembled as he strained from standing on his tip toes. I smiled as his thigh muscles began to twitch violently. Through gritted teeth he replied, 'It makes me miserable SIR! The cage is a constant reminder of sex and every time I think about sex I get hard and I feel my cock strain under the wires of this cage. It hurts like hell SIR!' He lost his balance briefly and collapsed to his flat feet for an instant. I spanked his ripped abs with the leather paddle; they flexed like a freakish thing of beauty and Marc screamed in agony. I circled him again gripping the slave by his ear saying, 'I think it's time you pay for your crimes boy!' Holding the slave's ear I forced him to stand before me and began whacking his flexed ass harshly with the paddle. I thrashed him until I heard the sweet music of his screaming, 'PLEASE MASTER! PLEASE STOP BEATING ME!' I could have came at that moment but there was no way I was going to waste it. I released the boy from my grip so that I could grip my throbbing, nine and a half inch cock.

I whispered in his ear, 'What would you do for relief slave?' He stammered, 'Anything you ask SIR!' My cock was dripping with precum as I gave the slave ease. I allowed him to stand in a relaxed position while I put the nipple clamps on his pink, pert little nipples and removed his cock cage. His cock rolled free like a desperate, little creature. His breathing was erratic as I dropped my jeans and sat down in the recliner. 'I want you to remove my boots boy!' Marc knelt before me and hurriedly began unzipping my black, Harley boots with trembling fingers. I leaned over the kneeling slave and spanked his ass with the paddle growling, 'NO HANDS! USE YOUR FUCKING TEETH!' Marc sighed in frustration as he reluctantly dropped his hands and began chewing at the zippers of my boots. I let him struggle with the process for a minute and then began thrashing him yelling, 'I DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT BITCH! HURRY THE FUCK UP!' The spanking hurried him and within a few minutes he had both boots unzipped and pulled off my feet. I made him remove my socks with his teeth and then we took the game to the next level. I told Marc it was time to service his Master's toes and feet. The straight, successful and arrogant man hesitated briefly with an expression of extreme displeasure but with a few encouraging whacks of my leather paddle he went fervently to licking, sucking and kissing my feet like the dog he truly was. My dick was aching as I had never enjoyed using a man more than him. I wanted to own Marc in every way and my head was reeling with the idea that my plan was working so fantastically. After a good ten minutes of foot worship I pulled my boy up by his nipple clamp chain and stared him in the eye. His face was flushed but he didn't seem as affected as I thought he would. I told him to take off my jeans and he obeyed me without hesitance. I'm not prone for bragging but I do have a magnificent cock. I have never had a bit of trouble pleasuring both men and women. My dick was twice the size of Marc's which must have made him feel even more diminished as I lounged before him gripping my thick, succulent member. He stared at my cock with a bewildered expression; it was glistening with a dew drop of precum and literally pulsing exclusively for him. I whispered, 'You know what comes next. Don't you?' For an instant I believe I may have a caught a slight, naughty smile from my new slave. His expression was a classic mix of fear, reluctance, amusement and arousal. I pulled him to me by the tension chain and pushed his head down onto my junk. Marc paused for a moment as he seemed to be stretching his mouth around my thick, hefty member. I pulled his hair sneering, 'COME ON BOY! SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU APPRECIATE ME!' He began sucking my dick and as he slobbered on my knob I snapped a few pictures of his handsome face in the undignified moment. His sucking was exquisite and for a instant I forgot that the Marcster wasn't gay. He sucked my big dick like a champ and I could have came in his mouth within seconds but I was waiting for the right moment.

There is a fine line between attraction and repulsion and as I caught a glimpse of Marc's bouncing, erect member I realized that this slave had crossed over. His poor, little, depraved prick was bouncing with every rhythm of every bob the cock sucker's head made. I laughed as I yelled, 'Are you getting turned on faggot?' Marc paused for a moment and stared down at himself. His face was crimson from shame as I stood up and tugged him to his feet yelling, 'WHY IS YOUR LITTLE CLIT JUMPING BITCH?' He stammered, 'I don't know SIR!' I pulled him close to me with my hand on the back of his head and whispered in his ear, 'Let me help you out with this.' My lips formed into an evil grin as I knew Marc must have thought that I was going to give him relief but instead I kneed him in the nuts. The poor, pathetic, cock whore landed exactly where I wanted him; at my feet. He was crying...Wait...he wasn't crying...he was sobbing like a little baby. I grabbed the nipple clamp chain and whispered with a condescending tone, 'You gonna cry little faggot? I thought you were the big, bad Marcster! I thought you were my tough, straight guy! What happened to you big man?' He sobbed hysterically replying through broken breaths, 'I'm sorry...I'm sorry. I'm not a man. I am just a bitch. I am your bitch!' I stood and forced my cock back into his frowning, snotty gob and began fucking his handsome face as if he were born for nothing more. My balls were wound so tight that I could barely control myself. I began to vibrate and my own face was flushed red with desire. I slipped off my shirt and moaned uncontrollably as I pushed Marc's face away for a moment. I had to hold it for a little longer...I just couldn't cum yet. I thought of everything not sexy, Dick Cheney, Oprah Winfrey...FUCK I even tried to conjure up an image of my Mom.

I sat down again and snapped my fingers. He crawled closer and I removed the nipple clamps. I smiled at him whispering, 'See this doesn't hurt boy.' My mischievous side was reeling when I gripped both his pink nips and begin rubbing them. He gasped loudly and cried out. I pinched them until he collapsed on the floor and began kicking violently. The sight of his handsome face being distorted by pain set my cock on fire. I wanted more head. I spanked his abs furiously and commanded, 'Ok boy...I'm going to teach you how to properly suck a REAL MAN'S COCK!' He knelt before me with his eager mouth open as I steadied him by grabbing a handful of his hair, 'Listen closely to me boy. You're a smart boy. I can tell, so pay attention and we'll be best friends.' He nodded eagerly replying, 'Yes Sir, I want to please you SIR!' I smiled as I explained to him that there were three things that made his Master happy. I like my balls licked. I like it when my cock whore French kisses the head of my cock by rolling his tongue around the tip passionately. I like a proper sucking and with time I explained to my boy that he would be able to swallow the entire length of my thick, 9.5 inch cock without gagging. The last little trick I taught the Marcster was that when I say, 'UP & DOWN' that means he has to stick his tongue all the way out and lick the entire length of my thick, meaty cock from the stem to sternum. He practiced diligently and I began using the wooden paddle for measure smacking him hard every time his five-oclock shadow touched my person. He screamed in agony and went right back to licking. Within a half hour my beautiful slave had almost mastered the art of oral pleasure. I began training his throat to swallow the entire thing. He coughed furiously and his eyes watered as I passed his tonsils and drilled down his throat. I could tell his wind pipe felt stretched as he gagged nervously. I whipped out my Blackberry and began videotaping him saying, 'Make me proud boy. You can handle that dick. Make me proud.' I fucked his face, slapped the dripping, throbbing member on his lips went back to raping his throat. As I stood and drilled past his tonsils again I could feel his body tensing. Within a minute the bitch boy puked. I laughed hysterically as I kept up the face fucking yelling, 'DID I TELL YOU TO STOP BITCH?' His mouth was so slippery from that rare mixture of snot and bile that you only get from gagging a faggot. I was loving the moment as I face fucked him mercilessly. I can hold my load but even I have my limits. I could feel my nuts coiling and I knew that my viper was about to spit some poison. I yelled, 'STICK OUT YOUR TONGUE FAGGOT!' He was shuttering with a strange expression of disgust as I came all over his face, tongue and chest. It was the kind of huge ejaculation that literally paralyzes a man's body. I was shaking as I realized that as much as I owned the Marcster...he now owned a little piece of me too. My throbbing, huge member wanted to keep diving. I pushed the juicy load past his lips, tongue and teeth and continued fucking his pretty boy face as if I never came. He was gagging, moaning and grimacing from the taste of my cum. My body trembled as I snapped my fingers saying, 'Go fetch Daddy a beer! MAKE IT FAST BITCH!'

The sight of a naked, sweaty, muscular, sex slave running around like a whipped, little bitch is a wonder to behold. He may have been 6'2' tall and built like a kick boxer but at this moment he was my boy. He returned with a cold one and knelt to present it to me. I snapped my fingers and pointed at my cock and he took to servicing me again. I drank the beer happily and made him fetch three more. Marc sucked my cock so well that after twenty more minutes I felt myself growing hard again. I thought to myself, 'This surprises even me.' He was bobbing on my knob like a sexpert with natural born skills. I stuttered as I felt that tight feeling in my nuts again, 'OH SHIT BOY! YOU'VE GONE AND MADE WE WANNA SHOOT TWICE!' My nuts released a second load directly onto his tongue. I screamed, 'HOLD IT IN YOUR MOUTH! IF YOU SWALLOW IT WITHOUT PERMISSION I'M GONNA BEAT YOUR AZZ!' I gasped as my jizz continued to spew. Feeling my entire body go limp I collapsed into the recliner feeling listless and weak. He knelt quietly as my chest heaved and after a moment I rose up and commanded, 'Open up.' His face was twisted into one big grimace as it was obvious he was tasting my bitter seed. He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. I snapped a picture of him. It's one of my favorite photos of the Marcster. He looks wonderfully miserable with a load of jizz sliding off his tongue. I finished the blow job with Marc swallowing my cum and opening up one more time to prove he swallowed. You could tell this guy was exhausted and I think he must have thought I was going to let him off the hook. Nope. I twisted his tender right tit and yelled, 'MORE BEER.' When he returned I could feel my bladder bulging. Oh yes I was going to take Marc to the next level.

to be continued: