The boy didn’t know what was happening to him, but his cock was trying to burst out of its cage and his head was whipping from side to side, his ears filled with his own grunts of protest. “That’s a good boy,” said the man, patting the captive’s cheek.
Cal and I make it back from Jamaica, but he’s still harboring a grudge. The only way for him to overcome this, he brings me to the sex club where I’m flogged and fucked in front of audience.
I learn that my initiation to slavery, submission and being owned by this dominant Master is unstoppable. I am his property.
It is my fate to accept it.
It is now my responsibility to properly serve only his needs and desires.
My life was over. After my first visit to a gay bar, I was dominated by Peter, totally fucked at both ends on stage, with al ive stream and hundreds of guys watching. My wife found out, left me and took the kids. I was a slave now.
Similar to my "Dominant Terza Rima Sonnets," this tells a similar story (in verse) from a submissive's point of view. (Author's Note: This is somewhat experimental for me. I'm not much of a poet, and terza rima is not a common form in English. Still, I thought I'd give it a try.)
This is short series of poems describing the first meeting of a dominant and a submissive. (Author's Note: This is somewhat experimental for me. I'm not much of a poet, and terza rima is not a common form in English. Still, I thought I'd give it a try.)
Two men are traded into servitude in order to keep the peace between two settlements in the post-apocalypse. They are thralls to the Gallus Legion. A society with a rigid social caste comprised entirely of men.