Date: Tue, 11 Jun 2013 10:36:46 -0400 (EDT)
From: PBURG12190@aol.com
Subject: I am Mark Anthony's

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I am Mark  Anthony's

Mark Anthony pushed his cock into my throat forcibly and  held me there.
It was obvious that  he was truly pissed at me for being such a submissive
fag.  Mark Anthony is such a straight alpha  male and he was pissed.  After 5
years he could not change me and he did try.  Now, He was done  trying.
"Is this what you want?" he roared over me.   "You want to be treated like
 this?"  I heard him saying to me as  his manhood filled my throat.  His
cock was throbbing angrily as it penetrated past my chocking point.  I held
on to his legs feeling his power  surge through him as he took his ultimate
pleasure over me.  Mark Anthony was totally dominating  another man.  He was
making me  service him in the ultimate form of submission.  Mark Anthony is
going to make me sorry  for what I asked for and pleasure himself as he does
 it.

I have been Mark Anthony's property now for a year and a  half.  I had
given myself to him  when I realized I was so unhappy with my life and the
choices I have made for  myself. I begged him to take control.   I thought it
better that I let him,  an obviously superior man, than I to make those
choices.  I basically forced him take complete  control of my life.  He did not
want  to do it.   There was nothing  sexual that interested him in me.  It took
years of baby steps to get to this point.   I signed a contract with him.
I gave him all access to my  financial records, bank accounts, and savings.
  Now I am wondering if I made a  mistake.  He is giving me everything  I
asked for and more.
I met Mark Anthony almost 5 years ago.  I had answered an ad for a Personal
 Fitness Trainer on Craislist.   I was 40yo and probably 30 pounds
overweight.   I tried everything to lose the  weight.  I was not athletic and I
felt that I needed some help.   I saw an ad for a personal trainer.  It stated,
"are you looking for a different approach to weight loss?  Have you tried
everything else and it  hasn't worked."   And wow   his credentials.    He
was a Graduate of the air  force academy, an NCAA wrestler, and was on the
Olympic Judo team.  He also owned an online organic food  company.  He was
everything I  wasn't.  He has accomplished more  than I ever would in fitness
and being a man. Woman loved him and men wanted to  be like him.  All that he
asked for  in the ad is that I be open and coachable.
Crack!   Wow, did he just hit me up side my head?   I was brought back to
reality in a  flash. All I heard was Mark Anthony saying pay attention
faggot.   Mark Anthony pushed his cock into my  throat and held me there as I
choked.   I realized that things have  changed.   Our relationship  will never
be the same.  I was on my  knees at his feet, my throat spasmed on his cock
like a pussy orgasming I felt  this ultimate man take his pleasure on me.  As
his hands grabbed my head giving, me no choice, but to do as he  wanted.
I could feel the exchange of  power.  I was no longer his  friend.  I am
now something for him  to use as he pleases without question or argument
At first glance Mark Anthony was not a muscle god.  But there was something
about him that  drew me to him..  When he answered  the door that first
time he was wearing an old dark blue t shirt and a pair of  blue Adidas running
pants with a grey strip down the side.   He was 5'11 and approx. 175  pds.
 He was not big but damn  he was shredded.   It looked  like he was rock
hard and his ass looked like two cannon balls in his  sweats.  Marc has this
Dark  unruly hair combed back with piercing blue eyes.  He also had about a
three day shadow on  his face.  Damn I thought to  myself.   How was I ever
going  to concentrate with him training me?   He is totally hot but also
totally straight   making him that much more  attractive.  I made it through
that  first workout.   He really  pushed me on that first workout.   I thought
I was going to puke.  But I made it.  Now look at  me impaled on his cock!
I asked for this.  I have no one to blame but myself.  I wanted to be
dominated.  I  wanted to be disciplined.  I wanted  to be beat.  What I forgot
was that  giving this type of control to someone else is not what you always
imagine in  your fantasies.  You have control of  your fantasies.  I had no
control of  Mark Anthony.   He had control  of me and he was taking full
advantage of it.  He was treating me like I hurt one of  his family members.  He
was teaching  me a lesson I will never forget.
This all started a few weeks ago.  Mark Anthony asked me to give him a
daily diary of what I ate but I wasn't doing it...  He kept asking me why I
would ask to do  something and not do it.   We  agreed that he could charge me
when I did not do my diary, however nothing  changed.  I guess I was trying
to  piss him off.  He was at the end of  his rope with me and asked what he
should do?  I sent him an email and half-jokingly  asked if he'd be willing
do physical punishment.    I emailed my request and he  basically told me I
was messed up.  Why would I ask for this?  Told me it must be some sort of
sick comedy skit.   But I kept on pushing.   I wanted the  discipline.
I have been doing things for Mark Anthony for a few  years.   It started
with me  fixing some things in his house. I was handy.    Then I started
cleaning his  bathroom and kitchen in exchange for him training me.  I wasn't
allowed in his room for the  longest time.   But that he  also saw the benefit
of me cleaning his room and to my greatest pleasure, doing  his laundry!  I
would smell each  sock, underwear or shirt before I washed it.  He had
almost no scent.  He smelled clean.   I would feel my submissiveness  growing as
I completed each task.  I  was always asking if there was anything else he
needed.  He started leaving list for me to  complete.   The lists kept
growing some of them with tasks that I was not able to finish that day and he
would email me his displeasure.  I  accepted this.   I was now  doing things
for him without pay and he was getting used to it, expecting  it.
One day he requested that I fix 2 door knobs, Hang some  towel hangers in
his bathroom,   hang some guitar hooks, dig up a plant, finish the laundry
and the  cleaning, email my diary and cook him a pot roast diner.  How was I
going do all of this?  These lists kept growing.  As you know I was not able.
  I worked at his place till 4 till  I had to go   I texted what I  did and
left.   This was the  response I got back
I see the new hooks on the  bathroom door, they need to be adjusted so the
door
is easier to  close.
what were you doing here if  none of these things are done?
holes in attic floor are  still there
guitar hook that came down  down is still down
3 new guitar hooks aren't  hung
I don't have an  inventory
Where are the socks I  wanted
you didn't uproot the plant  that is adding to my allergies
pot roast isn't in my  fridge
no report on progress on how  to make me money
no posters hung or clients  gained for PT
==============================
I need light bulbs, or tell  me where ones are if they're already here
His domination and arrogance were growing. He was now  expecting me to read
his mind.   There were things that he wanted done that he didn't tell me
about and he  was mad I didn't do all of it.   The next day he texted me to
come  to his place right after work and don't be late.  I loved when he gave
me orders.   I showed up at his place after  work, I was nervous and I wasn't
sure why.   I knocked on his door.   I could hear him inside.   But he didn'
t answer.   I became more nervous as I stood  there.  I know he heard me.
Was he making me wait?  After a few minutes I heard him some  down his
stairs and answer the door.  He was wearing this paper thin blue t shirt, It
looked like it clung to  his body as if the shirt was worshipping him.  I could
see every ridge and bulge of his  chest and abs it that shirt. The shirt
was almost see through He was also  wearing a pair of camo pants that he
filled out perfectly.  On his feet was a pair of Asics  wrestling shoes.  I
soaked in the  sight.  I could tell he wasn't happy  but,   God he was he hot I
thought.
"Stop staring at me and get in here" Mark Anthony  said.   "Close the
door.  We need to  talk."
"Ok Mark, whats up?"   I asked.    I could tell he was high and  he was
wrestling with something in his mind.  He started "that email that you sent me
 were you wanted me to ahhhh punish you?  That you wanted me to beat you
for disobeying me and that you would pay  me?"  I'll do it for $500 if you
are  serious?
"Yeah I guess" I answered almost below my voice "I don't  know what I want
" I said a little louder.  He raised his eyebrow and was just staring at
me.  His eyes were a little glassy.   I realized he was also high.  "Look" he
started "I am not into this  shit.  This is not going to help  you.  But I
need the cash.  I don't know what kind of sick dream you  have and I don't
want to be a part of it.  But I will do it this one time for $500."
I must have looked like a deer that was just about to get  hit by a semi.  "
What?" is all I  could say?  As I searched his face  for if this was really
happening.  He was glaring at me for my answer.   He took a stance as if he
was a  getting ready for a fight.  He was  nervous also, I could tell.
But he wasn't showing it.   "WELL?"  He probed  "OK?"
"OK"  I  agreed
Go down stairs he said.   Wait down there, I'll meet you in  the basement.
He ordered
Mark Anthonys basement is an old western pa  basement.  Old white
cinderblock  walls with glass block windows.   Probably built in the late 20 or 30's
 He has a red heavy bag hung from the old  rafters with grey duct tape
holding the seams  together.
I heard him coming down the old wood stairs...my back was  towards him so I
looked over my shoulder.   I first was his feet in those  white Asics
wrestling shoes.     As he came down he was  holding his black belt.   It  was a
thick black leather casual belt with a bushed metal  buckle.
You sure you want this? He asked    you   can back out now if you want
But  you still have to pay me the $500  if you do back  out..
"No I don't want to back out I'm ready.
Ok   Take off your shirt and face the heavy bag and grab the chains over
your  head.  As I did   I could feel and excitement  running through my body.
I heard  him crack the belt behind me.  Mark  Anthony was holding the
buckle and cracked the belt in the air.  I felt fear and excitement.  Then I
heard him say "ready?"   As soon as I nodded yes he wasted  no time and cracked
my back with the belt causing the most intense searing  pain.   I let out a
howl that I  know could be heard outside.  I let  go of the bag and dropped
to my knees.   My god that  hurt.
Get up!  Grab  the bag Mark Anthony snarled   Fucking faggots!  Jon- mike
walked over to a workbench in the basement and brought a roll of packing
tape.  He then taped my hands over  my head so I could not move.  The  sound
of packing tape peeling of the roll as someone is using it on you is a  very
frightening sound
Jon –Mike   I am not sure I can do this.
You are not backing out now you fucking faggot he  said.
He walked over to a laundry pile in the basement and  picked up one of his
socks he had worked out in and shoved it in my mouth.   Or at least as much
that would  fit.  He then used the packing tape  to secure it in my mouth so
I could not spit it out.  He came over to me and grabbed my jaw in  his
hand and made me look at him.  `Remember, you asked for this"   he pulled on a
pair of black Under  Armor football gloves.  Mark Anthony  walked back to
his position behind me.  "I am going to give you a beating you will never
forget.   You will be sorry you asked for  this. He instructed to me.   Across
the basement was an old round  antique mirror with beveled edges hanging on
the wall. It was covered in dust  from the dryer vent, but I could see both
of our reflections in it.  It gave the impressions that this was  not real
but an old TV show or bad porn.  It would have been the best porn I thought
except this was going to be  real.  He then proceeded to whip my  back,
methodically and without emotion. On the third whip my legs buckled but  the
packing tape held me in place to the heavy bag.  My muffled cries filled the
basement as  he continued to whip me for 25 times.  I was in the worst pain I
have been in but my cock was rock hard.  He beat me till I was no longer
standing.  I was hanging from the  chains sobbing.  I looked in the  mirror and
I could see myself hanging with him behind me with the most intense  stare.
 I think he was enjoying the  power over me.  He came up close  behind me
and started talking.
"Is this what you wanted?"  I nodded.  "Are you sorry for not obeying me?"
  I nodded again. At that point  he ripped the tape from my mouth   so I
could spit out the shirt.  He grabbed a knife from the work bench and cut the
tape securing my  hands.   I fell to the ground  on my knees and forearms. I
was crying as he walked in front of me.  All I could see was his Asic
wrestling  shoes.
Look at me.  It was an order.   I  slowly raised my eyes up his chiseled
body to his face.   Those cold blue eyes staring back  at me.
What do you say? He asked    I looked at him,  confused.   "What the fuck
do  you say? He asked again slowly each word like he was talking to an idiot.
 I looked back at the ground, which was  the wrong thing to do.    He
pulled my head back by my hair and backhanded me hard.  Look at me!   What the
fuck do you have to say  me!? He screamed.  Sorry I cried  out...no he
screamed and slapped me three more times.  Back handing my right check the slapping
 the left and backhanding me again.   What the fuck do you have to say to
me  he stated again.     Thank you I cried  out.    Thank you what? He
answered.  Thank you Mark Anthony I  cried out.   Your damn right he  said.  When
you address me, you will  do it with the utmost respect.  Do  you
understand me?
Yes Sir I submitted.
I am going to show you how a real man treats a piece of  shit like you.  He
stepped closer to  me he was undoing his camo pants.   He pulled down the
zipper of his pants and I could see his huge cock  growing beneath the cotton
of his white boxer briefs..  I cannot believe you would let me do  this to
you  I  could see him getting angry again he pulled my hair back harder and
spit  in my face.  It hit my check and  dripped down to the side of my
mouth.  I instinctively licked my lips which really pissed him off.  He slapped
me so hard that I fell back  on my knees till my back was on the floor and
in an instant he was straddling my  chest.  Folded in half backwards my
calves pinned under my thighs. He grabbed my hair again and pulled my face up to
 his crotch grinding it into his now hardening cock.  This is the treatment
faggots like you  get.  I moaned like a bitch.  You want some of this?
Yeah?   Well beg for it!  He pulled me to my knees as he screamed  at me   "
Beg!"  I dropped down and started kissing his  feet in his wrestling shoes.
He  picked up his foot and pushed my head down to the floor, grinding the
side of my  head into the concrete.  I tried to  free myself   grabbing his
ankle squirming under his trampling.   "you will learn to obey me"   he
lifted his foot and told me to roll over.   I was on my back looking up at him
standing over me.  He put his foot  on my throat and pushed down   limiting
my air flow.  I  looked up at him.   Even in  this position.  With absolute
fear I  found him to be the hottest man alive.  He was glairing down at me.
What a faggot.   He  cleared his throat and I heard him hawk up a good wad
of spit   and fired it on my face.  Here I was on the ground under his  foot
 being beat by a man that  I trained on how to kill if he wanted  and that
could kill me if he wanted.  I had no choice but to obey him.  I felt my
submission growing.   I was truly learning my place.  I needed this and I was
turned on beyond any fantasy I imagined.  I knew there was no going  back.
Marc grabbed me by my hair and pulled me up to a kneeling  position in from
of him again.  He  stepped up close and said "I am going to teach you how
to service a real  man.  At that point he pulled out  his magnificent cock
and smacked it off my face. Using his one hand on his cock  as the other held
me in place by my hair.  I could feel the precum dripping from his cock
sticking to my face.  Open up he sneered and he pushed the  head of his cock in
my mouth.   That day I tasted him for the first time.   I could taste the
precum in my  mouth.  The essence of a real man  and I was instantly addicted
to him.  I needed   him.  It was like a drug addiction.   Like crack   I
needed his seed in my  mouth.
Mark Anthony pushed deep into my mouth   gagging me on my cock.  His hands
grabbed my hair pulling me  into him and grinding my face into his body
holding me there and doing it again.  He did it over and over picking up a
rhythm.  Each time his cock plunging deep into my  throat.  I looked up at him
towering  over me, fucking my mouth, a picture of power and strength.  Tilting
his head back as  he clenched his ass and drove into  me    grunting out
as he thrust.  Not just dominating me now   but also receiving pleasure as he
 fucked my face.  I saw his mouth  open as he lost himself deep  in the
pleasure I was giving him or I should say that he was taking form me.   I
could feel him getting  closer.  His grasp tightening on my  head.   I dared not
to disturb  the trace he was in.   I wanted  him to get pleasure from me.
His pre cum filling my mouth and lubing my throat  and invading my senses
with his essence..  I could feel is power surging through his body it was
intoxicating to  me.  Mark Anthony paused for a split  second then he erupted
into my mouth.  He pulled me tight to his body.  He emptied his load into me.
His cock was growing even larger as he came.  He let out a  long intense
moan, leaving his body.  Followed by him growling "FUCK" in  pleasure and
power.
Mark Anthony began to pull his cock from my mouth as I  sucked the last
drops of him from it.  A wave of shame washed over me.  I can't believe what
just happened    things will never be the  same.  This was my entire  fault.
I made him do this to  me.  I wanted him to dominate  me.
We were both panting hard from the effort.  I was still on my knees but
also sitting  back. Jon mikes left hand still had a grip of my hair as I knelt
before  him.   I was looking down at  the ground as he pulled my head back.
My eyes were closed.  I could  not face him. "Look at me" he ordered.   As
I opened my eyes I was met with  the most intense stare.  It was as  if he
was looking right through me.  As if he was searching me for an answer.  He
was also processing what just  happened. Then his expression changed  as his
answer came to him,  he smirked and cocked his  head to the side as if to
say to himself "alright  If this is how it's going to be?  I can do  this"
I am now Mark  Anthony'