“The Right Way to Suck” - Part Three of an Alpha Male/beta boy fantasy

By Everett

I felt the training of my new sub was going well.  He seemed to be an intelligent boy and eager to do as I instructed.

“Time to piss,” I announced as I got out of bed.  “Let's go.”

We pissed together like we did yesterday, crossing golden streams as they cascaded into the white porcelain bowl.  “Wash up and brush your teeth” I said.  “I'll do a quick inspection before we check out and head for breakfast.”

“I don't have a toothbrush, Sir,” he said.

“Don't have a toothbrush!” I exclaimed.

“No, Sir.  I left home in a hurry.  All I brought with me was my jacket.”

“Well, we should be in Vegas about noon.  We'll go shopping then and get a few necessities.  For now, stand here in front of me.”

I sat in the chair and inspected my boy from top to bottom for clenliness and neatness.  “Trim your fingernails,” I said.  I like them well below the tips of your fingers.  When you've done that, let me see them again.”

“Yes ,Sir,” he said.  He sat on the rim of the tub and clipped his nails. “How's this, Sir?” he asked.

“After you smooth them with this emery board they should be fine.  I'll check them again when you're done.”

As he buffed I got my hair clippers.  “Sit on the stool,” I told him.  “It's haircut time.”

“I just had a haircut last week, Sir,” he said.

“Are you arguing with me?” I asked.

“Oh, no, Sir,” he assured me.  “I just meant to say that a haircut shouldn't be necessary so soon.”

“I'll decide what's necessary.  You are going to get a number one buzz all around.”

“But, Sir,” he protested.  “When my hair is long enough it gets all curly.  I like it curly.”

“That's it, damn it,” I snarled.  “You seem to think this is a topic for discussion.  I've told you that I make every decision that affects you and that I will not tolerate any argument.  I choose how you wear your hair, not you.  Get into the bedroom.”

I got my leather strap from my bag.  “Face down on the bed,” I ordered.

I swatted my boy's pretty rump until it turned bright red.  “Will I hear any more from you about your hair today?”

“No, Sir.  I'm sorry, Sir.”

“Then get back into the bathroom and sit on the stool.”

“Sir?” he said softly.

“What is it now?”

“I just want to say, Sir, that I really am sorry.”

“It's over, Snot.  Quit talking about it.”

I clipped his curls and ran my hands over his new buzz.

“Now your crotch,” I said.  I clipped his pubes.  Then I lathered and shaved his groin completely.

“Lie across my knees,” I said.  I inspected his pussy with care.  “No hair here,” I announced.  “That's sweet.”  So sweet, in fact, I couldn't resist kissing and sucking his hole before playfully swatting his ass and telling him to take the position in front of me.

“I'm going to make this part of my daily inspection,” I said.  “Expect to be clipped and shaved daily if necessary to keep you looking as you do now.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said.  “Thank you, Sir.”

“Get dressed,” I said.  “We're going home.”

*         *          *

My boy's introduction to his new home was cursory.  We ate lunch in a nearby cafe and made a list of things he would need to pass his daily inspection.

“I'm glad you like to keep yourself clean and neat,” I told him.  “My last boy was very lax in both areas.”

“Did you punish him, Sir?”

“Punish him!  Hell no.  I kicked his sorry ass out.”

Our first stop was the neighborhood super market where I bought a few groceries and the items on the boy's must have list.

“Can you think of anything else?” I asked.

“Not now I can't, Sir.”

“Let's go and get you a some new clothes.  I'm tired of seeing you in the same rags all the time.  Next time you run away from home you ought to take more than a jacket with you.”

“I'm sorry, Sir . . .” my boy started.

“Lighten up, Kid,” I said.  “I'm only making a joke.  I'm a regular Bob Hope, don't you think?”

“Who's Bob Hope?”

“Never mind,” I said.  “No one you know.”

I drove to a big box store on Maryland.  In the boys' section I pickedup a couple of pairs of blue jeans and several plain shirts in his size.

“How about this shirt?” he asked.  “I like this one.”

“I don't,” I said briefly.  “Beta boys don't get to choose shirts or hair styles or anything else that shows individuality.

“We'll get the things I like and some underwear.  From now on you will wear tighty whities like I wear.”

“Yes, Sir.”  My boy submitted to my decisions like a good sub needs to do.

Our next stop was a sex novelty store.  We went to a case at the back of the store where there was an array leather goods.  I chose leather ball stretcher that I thought would accommodate my boy's little scrotum.

“What's that?” he wanted to know.

“This is a ball stretcher.  You will wear it day and night unless I say otherwise.  Maybe your scrotum will stretch down and your balls hang like a mans' balls should, though I doubt that will ever happen.”

“But, Sir . . .” he began.

“Don't start anything you can't finish,” I warned.

I athered up my purchases and ordered him to go to the fitting room.

I led the way.  “Get naked,” I said.

“Here, Sir?” he asked.

“Here and now,” I said sternly.

He quickly shucked his clothing and looked expectantly at me.  I took his balls in my hand, forced them as far down as I could get them and snapped the stretcher in place.

“Go out and look at yourself in the full length mirror.”

“But, Sir, I don't have any clothes on.”

“Tough shit.” I said.  “This is Las Vegas.  Everyone here has seen more than a naked runt like you running loose.  I want the salesman to see if I've put the thing on correctly.”

My boy cracked the door and peeked out.  Apparently there was no one in the area immediately outside and he gingerly stepped out of fitting room.  I pushed the door wide and followed him.

“Over here,” I shouted thinking a customer was the salesman.  That attracted several nearby shoppers and all heads turned in our direction.  “Wait here,” I said and I went off to find the salesman who showed me the stretcher.

He finally came and inspected the device from every angle.  “Yes,Sir,” he said.  “That's correct.

“Not very big, is he?” he added

“He's just the right size,” I said.

“He has a cute ass, though,” he observed.

“So I've been told.”

To my boy I said, “All right, Guy.  Get dressed.  We're outta here.”

“Do I have to wear . . .” , he began.

“You do.  Until I decide to take it off, if I ever do.”

In the car my boy said to me, “You told that man back there that you don't think my cock is small.”

“What I said was that I think your dicklet is just the right size for you.  It's very small,” I told him, “the smallest I've ever seen on an eighteen-year-old, but it's yours and I like it.

“I like everything about you; your dicklet and small balls and especially your tight asshole.  It's small too.  That's why it hurts so much when I start to fuck you.

“You are a very good boy to take my cock as you do.  I know it hurts when I first enter you, but in time, when you get used to it, it will hurt you less and less, and soon you will love the feeling of my cockhead opening you and getting you ready for a fuck.”

“I think that time is coming soon, Sir.”

“I think so, too.  Your positive attitude is what will make it happen.”

*         *          *

When we got home I said, “I'll put your new cloths in the laundry.  You get in the shower.”

“Alone, Sir?”

“You shower alone today,” I answered.  “I have another plan.”

I sat on the end of our bed and watched my boy towel dry.  “You have a nice body,” I told him.  “Your muscles mound and ripple nicelyas you dry yourself.”

He beamed at my comment.  “Thank you, Sir,” he said.

“Of course, they are nothing compared with my well developed muscles.”

“No, Sir.  I know that.”

“You'd like to touch my muscles right now, wouldn't you, like the little faggot you are?”

“Yes, Sir,” he said.

“Faggots can't get enough of admiring and rubbing the hard muscles of a superior Alpha Male.

“You're like that, aren't you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You're a faggot, you know.  You're my faggot.”

“Yes, Sir.  Thank you for letting me be your faggot, Sir”

“I'll tell you what.  I'll lie on the bed and you may rub me all over.”

“Thank you, Sir,” he said.

I was happy that he had learned the proper way to deal with me.  “You are a good faggot-boy,” I told him.

“Get on the bed with me so you can do a good job of rubbing me.  You may kiss my muscles if you want.”

He was giving me his immature version of a massage.  I thought it was very sweet.

“I didn't take a shower because I want to teach you the proper way of cleaning me.”

“How do I do that, Sir?”

“With your tongue.  That's how”

“With my tongue, Sir?”

“That's right.  You will lick every inch of me and make sure I'm perfectly clean.”

I spread my legs.  “Start with my perineum,” I said.  Get over here and lick it clean.  Come on.”

He knelt between my legs and put his face near my crotch.  “Sniff it,” I said.  “That's my smell.  You should love it.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said with a disappointing lack of enthusiasm.

“Put our tongue against my perineum.  Taste it,” I said.

He started to gingerly lick me.

“Do it, Boy,” I said.  “Do it like you love it.

“That's better.  Get it wet and then lick all your saliva away.

“Good boy.  Sniff it.  Make sure the odor's gone.

“Now my thighs.  And my balls.  Take my balls in your mouth and get them extra clean.”

The sight of my balls in his mouth was getting me hard.  I slapped his pretty face several times with my growing cock.

“You love it when I slap your face with my man-cock, don't you Faggot?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Can't get enough of it, can you?”

“No, Sir.”

“Well, take it in your mouth and clean it off, too.  But don't get any big gdeas.  You are just to clean it.  You're not going to get my load now.  I may give you a big load later, if I think you deserve it.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Now my pits, Boy.  Lave your faggoty tongue around my left armpit.  Get it wet.  Make your tongue flat and lick it good.  What about it, Boy? Can you still smell my man scent in that pit?”

“A little, Sir.”

“Then do it again.  Lick it all away.

“Sniff it, Boy.  How is it now?”

“Fine, Sir.”

“Then get over to my right pit.  You know what to do.”

The little fag licked my right armpit like there was no tomorrow.  “You gotta be done now,” I said.  “You're just keeping your face in there because you love it so much.  Isn't that so?”

“I like licking your armpits, Sir.”

“Well, you're done there.  Now my feet.”  I pushed his head down using first my hand and then my foot until his face was near my left foot.  “Lick it,” I said.  “The top first, then the sole.  Suck my toes, one at a time, and lick the spaces between them.  Good.

“Now my right foot.  Five minutes for each foot ought to do it.”

When he finished licking my feet I said,  “I've been saving the best part for last.  I want you to get my asshole nice and clean.  You cando that, can't you, Fag?”

“Yes, Sir,” he said softly.

“Get down there then and get to work.”

He licked my ass cheeks over and over.  “Get my hole, Boy.  Spread my ass cheeks and get your disgusting tongue in my asshole.  Deeper. Yeah.  That's right.  Do it some more.

“Now sniff.  What do you think?  Is there any stink there?”

“No, Sir.  I think it's clean enough, but I can lick it some more if you'd like me to.”

“Go ahead, you little faggot.  Make yourself happy if you think you're worthy.  My asshole is worth more than your whole scrawny body, but I'll let you lick it some more if you want.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

After a few minutes I got up and stood near the foot of the bed.
“Come here,” I said, and pulled him so that he was lying across the bed; his head hanging over the side of the mattress, face up.

“Open, ”I ordered.  I leaned forward and spit into his gaping mouth.  “A little gift from me to you.  Show me how much you appreciate my first gift of the day.”

He swallowed my spit.  “Open again,” I said and I placed my cock on his tongue.  I pushed deeper until my glans again entered his throat. He gagged and I pulled out.

“Don't gag,” I told him.  “We're going to do this over and over until you can take me in your throat without gagging.  When you have mastered the technique, you will thank me for training you to do what I expect you to.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.  I understand.”

“Open again,” I ordered.  He opened and I placed my cock on his tongue as I did earlier.  He closed his mouth around my shaft.

I slapped his face, but softly.  “I didn't tell you to close your lips,” I said.  “Keep your mouth open.”

He opened wide and I slid my cock slowly along his tongue.  When my mushroom head reached his throat, he gagged minutely and I lightly slapped his face again.

“Open.”  Gag.  Light slap.

“Concentrate,” I said.  “Do not gag.”

I again slid my cock along his tongue.  Just before my glans would have touched his soft palate I said softly, “Careful, now.  Control your gag reflex,” and I pushed a little bit further.  He did not gag.

“Good, boy,” I said.  “I knew you could do it.

“More.”  Again, he didn't gag.

“Very good,” I said, and I patted his cheeks and withdrew my cock.

“I think you've got it,” I said.  “It's all a matter of concentration.  Concentratration and will power.  Always remember that in order to please me and to hear my praise, you will not gag.

“Let's practice some more.  Keep your mouth open.  “Wider.  The whole way,” and I forced my cock past the root of his tongue and deeper into his throat than before.  He resisted the urge to gag.

“Excellent,” I said.  I pushed deeper and cut off his supply of air.  I squeezed his nostrils tight.

“Hold it,” I said and I fucked his throat, just a couple of soft jabs. When I sensed that he needed to breathe, I pulled out.  He gasped for air and wiped some moisture from his eye with the back of a hand.

“You crying?” I asked.  “Did my mean cock make the little girl cry?”

He looked at me silently.  When I slapped his face again he blinked his eyes and turned his head away.  “Answer me,” I demanded, “andedon't wince when I slap you.  You know it doesn't hurt.”  I slapped him again to prove it.  “Are you a little bitch girl that's gonna cry when my man-cock gets too rough for you?”

“I wasn't crying, Sir,” he said.  “My eyes watered.  That's all.”

I stared at him and slapped his face a two more times.  “But you are my little bitch, aren't you?”  I said.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, what?  Tell me.”

“I'm your little bitch, Sir,” he said.

“No need to cry, Bitch,” I told him.  “And there's no need to worry, either.  I'm training you, that's all.  I'm training you to take my cock in your throat the way I like it.  You're too valuable to me for me to hurt you.  You're in safe hands.

“Doy ou trust me?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir,” he said.

“Good,” I replied.  “Let's try it again.”  I placed my cock head between his lips.  “Do you want it all the way in?” I asked.  His eyeswere still wet and saliva oozed from between his lips.

“Yeah,” was all he could say around my shaft.

“Good boy,” I said and I made him take me the whole way several more times.

He moved his hand to his dicklet and jacked a little.  “Forget it,” I said.  “Always remember that my pleasure is what's important.” I took his wrists in my big hands and held them above his thin chest. “Pay attention to my cock and concentrate on giving me as much pleasure as you possibly can.”

I held his head against my crotch with one hand until he squirmed for air.

This time I held his head less firmly.  “Swallow,” I told him. “Swallow like you want my cock permanently in your throat.”

He swallowed.  “You're a good boy,” I said.  “Your training is going very well.”  I pulled out.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said.  “Thank you for teaching me how you want me t to take your cock.”

“Well said,” I praised him.  “You are a good boy indeed.”

“Open again,” I said.  He did and I began to fuck his face, gently going in and out.

“You'll want to keep my cock wet,” I told him as I continued fucking his face.  “I want to pump my load down your hungry throat.  Get ready.”

He squirmed his little body and breathed deeply.  I lifted his head, forced my turgid cock deeply into his throat, and pulsed my huge load into him.  “Swallow,” I ordered.

He gagged as he tried to swallow my whole load.  When he failed, I said, “Again.  Do it right.

He swallowed repeatedly until he was able to get it all down.

“Not bad,” I said, “but it's going to take a lot of practice for you tto do it the way I want it done.  You've had another massive load from my man-balls.  What do you have to say to me?”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“For what?  For pumping my load down your scrawny throat?”

“Yes, Sir.  For using me the way you want to and giving me the gift of your cum.”



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