Date: Sat, 12 Jul 2008 02:54:28 -0400
From: puppboijeff@aol.com
Subject: Memoirs of a Master

3
Why'd the Hell I Wait So Long?
I was sixteen the first time I got head. The girl's name was
Amber and we had been dating about a month. The thing I
liked most about it was the fact that it was totally one
sided. It was another way of being serviced. I just kicked
back and enjoyed the feeling while the little bitch did her
job. She did all the work and I got all the pleasure.

That first experience was pretty lame, to be honest. Knowing
what I do now, that chick didn't do my cock justice, but I
have to give her credit since it was her first time. She
blew me a couple other times after that, but neither time
was much better. She couldn't get much of my cock in her
mouth and she didn't really suck it hard enough. The worse
thing about it was that she didn't even consider swallowin
my nut.

Amber and I didn't go out all that long, but in the years to
come, I did end up getting some really decent head. In fact
during my senior year of high school I dated this chick
named Cindy who blew me a couple times a week. And there
were a few blowjobs that I got on the side.

When I was seventeen and started talking to fags on the
internet, the topic of blowjobs would come up often. Usually
the fags mentioned it first. They'd ask me about my
girlfriends and if they gave me head and shit. Then they'd
always follow up with the same fuckin question: had I ever
let a guy blow me.

Obviously my response was "Fuck no!" I'd tell em that I
wasn't a fag. Sometimes the fags would persist and try
making a case for why I should consider letting a fag slide
on my pole, but this shit just pissed me off.

After I let that 30-something faggot come and worship my
feet for 200 bucks, I found all about online cash masters. I
learned that there were lots of dudes just like me who
dominated faggots and took their cash. I discovered there
were websites dedicated to it. The fags were called cash
slaves. Most of em were older, in their thirties and
forties, some even older than that. Most of these bitches
were eager to hand over cash to hot young masters,
especially if you let em see you on webcam.

I learned that there were really no limits. Some masters
lived entirely off of fag cash. Some had slaves that lived
nearby who serviced them, not unlike my situation with
Terry. Some used their slaves to do their homework or
housework or other shit like cleaning their cars and stuff.
Some did shit just for fun to humiliate the slaves.

And during my exploration of this Master/slave online world,
I met quite a few of these other Masters. One of em was a
guy named Rick. The two of us actually became friends and
still are to this day. Remember, this was when I was only
seventeen, and Rick was 23 at the time. He'd been a master
for a couple years, so he gave me advice about handling
slaves. He also pretty much helped pave the way for me to
build my empire of cash slaves.

During the course of our friendship, Rick and I had many
online conversations and even visited one another in person.
He lived hundreds of miles from me but we used fag cash to
travel, so it wasn't a big deal to take trips whenever we
wanted. I was trippin the first time I met this dude in
person, cuz it was like seein a mirror image of myself, only
older.

Well, I mean he didn't look exactly like me, but we had the
same build and the same hair and once we got to sharin our
experiences it was crazy how much alike we actually were.
He'd discovered how easy it was to bully fags back in grade
school just like I had. He used to steal faggots' lunch
money and give em swirlies. He used fags to do his homework
and term papers.

We were chillin at his apartment this one time when he said
something that fuckin freaked the shit outta me. He was so
casual about it. He said something about this slave who gave
him head. Of course I figured he was talking about a chick.

"You got a chick slave?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. A faggot-- a cocksuckin slave."

"Whoa!" I said, leaning away from him. "Dude, why would you
let a fag suck your dick? Wouldn't that make you. a FAG!
That shit's pretty fuckin gross."

"I hear ya, man. I said that myself for years. But ya know
what? The best head I ever got was from a faggot cocksucker
and I'm not any queerer than you are, dude."

"If you're doin the nasty with a fag, then you sure the fuck
are, dude." I shuddered just thinking about it. "Man. don't
fuckin even tell me any more of this shit."

He shrugged and changed the subject.

It was hard to think of Rick the same way after that
conversation, and I was starting to really wonder about him.
But it was crazy cuz I'd met Rick's girlfriend. Rick and I
talked to each other about pussy and chicks all the fuckin
time. How could this dude be a homo?

It was actually later that same night when we both were
buzzed that I brought the conversation up again. "Dude, I
gotta tell ya that shit freaked me out. I can't even fuckin
think of you the same any more. How could you let yourself
be fuckin queer bait like that?"

Rick just laughed. "Dude, why you so uptight about it?
You've known me for how long? You know I'm not a fag. In
fact you sure as hell know I'd kick anyone's ass who even
suggested I was."

"A'ight," I said, "then I guess that'd make ya bi, huh? Cuz
if you're doin shit with a dude, you're not straight."

"I ain't `doin shit' with dudes, man. I have no attraction
to guys whatsoever! There's a difference between fuckin
someone and usin a mouth to get my rocks off."

"Bro, how can you say that?" I asked.

"Well. let me ask ya somethin. If you were horny and wanted
head, would you let an ugly chick blow you. I mean, if you
knew she was gonna expect nothin in return. She just wants
to suck ya dry and swallow yer nut. Would you let her?"

I shrugged. "Depends how ugly."

"Okay, whatever. But the point is, you'd probably be willin
to take a headjob from a chick that you weren't attracted to
at all. Head is head."

"Yeah," I agreed, "but that's different than letting a fag
do it. A chick's a chick even if she's ugly. She still has
tits and a cunt. I wouldn't let some old grandma suck my
dick-no matter how horny I was-and I wouldn't let a dude do
it either."

"You're thinkin of it all wrong, dude," said Rick. "You're
not `letting em' do anything. If you're their master, you're
orderin em to serve you. You do it when you want it on your
terms. The whole point of it is to use them for your
pleasure, same as you do when you cash rape em."

"But they're fags!" I replied. "Dude, they're sick fucks who
enjoy that kinda shit. Why should I give em what they want
by faggin-out on em?"

"Cuz no matter who sucks your dick, you'll never be a fag.
It's like this, man: when I decide I want head and there's
not a chick around, I call one of my local fags and order
them to get their ass over here. They know the rules.
Refusing me is not an option. Then the entire time they're
here, they understand that the whole experience is all about
me and my pleasure, not theirs. I never see em naked, and
they aren't even allowed to touch themselves, jack off, or
anything at all to bring themselves pleasure.

"I always make em kneel, and I always grab hold of their
head and skull-fuck em. I punish em if they gag-which they
almost always do-and I bitch slap em if I feel any teeth. I
make it last as long as I want. I go in as deep as I want. I
pump as hard and as fast as I want. And I always, fuckin
ALWAYS drain my load down their bitch throats. Then I make
em pay me afterwards."

I just stared at him. "So you're a prostitute, dude."

Rick shook his head, smiling. "Fuck no! A hooker is someone
that gets paid for doing a service. In this case, the fag's
the one doin the servicing and it also has to pay for the
privilege of doin it. If a fag called me up and asked to
suck my cock, I'd beat its ass. They're my on-call
cocksucker's. They service me when I want it, not vice
versa."

"Dude, I hear what you're sayin, but that shit's definitely
not for me," I said. "If I want head, I'll get a chick to do
it. Why should I stoop to that level of havin some
disgusting faggot slidin on my pole?"

"Cuz there's no limit with fags. When have you ever grabbed
a chick's head and skull-fucked her til you nutted? And when
you do nut, how often do you do it down the bitch's throat?
When's the last time a chick paid you for the privilege of
suckin your cock? Usually they act like they're doin you the
favor."

"That's cuz they are, dude!" I said.

"Not so with a fag. You're the one doin them the favor. You
can treat em like the dogshit that they are and bust the
best nut of your life. They don't get shit in return, other
than a throat full of your slimy sperm."

I couldn't help myself, I had to laugh. "The way you
describe it, it's like you just are usin em to jack yourself
off."

"Exactly!" he said. "They're just a fuckin hole. And I'm
telling ya dude, nothin feels better than to go in balls
deep when you nut. Ya don't give em any choice in the
matter, just shove em all the way down."

It was by far the weirdest conversation I'd ever had. If
anyone other than Rick had ever told me about shit like
this, I'd know for a fact that they were just some closet
case faggot. But there was no way I could think of Rick that
way. I knew he was no fag. I still wasn't about to start
letting fags anywhere near my dick. Period.

That Terry turned out to be a real cash cow. During the
first six months that I knew him he was like a human ATM for
me. Not only did he promptly pay his seventy-five dollar fag
tax every week, but he usually was ready to fork over the
cash a day or two early. He also was eager to submit to any
of my other demands for additional cash. Usually at least a
couple times a month I'd spring an extra fee on him.

In addition to his financial slavery to me, that geekylookin
faggot also was like my very own domestic slave. Because he
lived so close to me, he was of course responsible for doin
all my laundry and keeping my dorm room clean. After I moved
out of the dorm into my apartment, he was responsible for
coming over once a week to do housework.

It was such a trip to see how this bitch so easily became
putty in my hands. It was like he was both terrified of me
and in love with me at the same time. I know he idolized the
ground I walked on, and wanted nothing more than to please
me at all costs. I figured out right away that all I had to
do to manipulate him was talk sternly to him. He craved
pleasing me so much, that the mere thought of pissing me off
in any way was his worst nightmare.

Probably the single thing that I liked most about dominating
this bitch was watching him squirm. When he was cleaning my
shoes or worshipping my feet, I'd point out to him where
he'd missed a spot. I'd call him names and tell him he was a
worthless piece of shit who couldn't do anything right.

Sometimes I'd call and wake him up in the middle of the
night and make him come over to serve me. I'd tell him he
had exactly ninety seconds to get his ass over to my room. A
lot of these times I'd then make him do one of my
assignments and I'd go to bed. When I got up in the morning
it would all be done perfectly. Poor bitch didn't end up
getting any sleep at all himself, but what-the-fuck?

Terry also was responsible for building and maintaining my
website. One of the first gifts he was required to buy me
was a decent digital camera. He used it to take tons of pics
of me for the site. In addition to the site he created
accounts for me on mastersjustice and doms4cash. He also
made a yahoo group dedicated to me.

I put Terry in charge of maintaining my yahoo group and
website, and he knew it was his job to act as a recruiter
for me. He would send out emails to other yahoo groups and
talk online to cash slaves who were seeking Masters. I know
it sounds crazy. It's hard to believe that there are
actually faggots out there who are looking for someone to
take money from them. But fuck, I'm not shittin ya, there
are hundreds of em.

The really pathetic thing about these fags is that the vast
majority of them have no idea who they're even sending money
to. Sure they've seen me on webcam. Sure they've seen pics
of me. But for all they know I could just be some fuckin
fake. Most of these losers will never see me in person or
even so much as talk to me on the phone. Yet takin money
from em is like stealin candy from a baby.

I'd been out real late one night during that first semester
of college. It was when I was still in the dorm. My friend
Greg and I had gone to a party and I was a little bit shit
faced. There was a chick there that had interested me, but
all of a sudden she disappeared. I kind of lost interest and
just proceeded to get drunk. It was like three in the
morning when I got back to the dorm. I flipped on the TV and
kicked back in my recliner for a few minutes and actually
started to sober up a bit. It was then that I realized how
pathetic it was that I'd left that party without getting
some pussy.

I thought about that chick. I think her name was April or
Autumn or some shit. Whatever. I decided to watch some porn.
By now I had quite an extensive collection, so I got up and
slipped a dvd into the machine.

I'm not sure what came over me but I then picked up the
phone and called the fag. "Get over here bitch. I need a
beer." Within sixty seconds he was walkin through my door
holding a cold beer. I laughed when I saw him cuz he was
actually wearing pajama bottoms. What college guy wears
pajamas to bed, I wondered.

"Bitch, get over here and take care of your Master's feet.
They're tired and sweaty and I've been wearin these shoes
since this morning."

The fag wasted no time dropping to his knees and crawling
over, being very familiar with the drill. He slid the stool
into position in front of my chair as I propped my feet up
eye-level with the kneeling fag. Very worshipfully he untied
and removed each of my sneakers and began massaging my feet.
I shoved my soles into his face and he obediently maintained
his position knowing better than to back away or even so
much as flinch. I laughed as I ground my soles against his
dorky face.

"I swear to god," I said, "I'll never understand why you
fags are so pathetic. You actually get off on this shit,
don't you?"

Terry said nothing but just looked up at me and nodded.

"Answer me, bitch," I said in an even tone. "You get off on
it, don't you?"

"Yes sir," he said quietly.

"Why?" I asked. I'm not sure why all of a sudden it had
occurred to me to ask this question. After all, I had
dominated faggots all my life and didn't really care what
they thought about it. I did it cuz I liked the power. I
liked taking advantage of my position of authority over
them. But it must have been the alcohol that was making me
this way, cuz I actually wanted to hear from him what his
motivation was.

"Well, SIR," he responded. "Um. I've always idolized guys
like you-straight jocks, I mean. And now, well um, here you
are living right next door to me. And it's just. well. it's
like a privilege or something to even be allowed to be in
the same room with you."

I laughed, wiggling my toes into his face. "Take my socks
off bitch," I said. "Figured it was something like that. Now
I want you to shut the fuck up and take care of my feet. I'm
gonna kick back and watch this porn."

"Yes sir," he said as he removed my socks one at a time.

As I sat there drinkin my beer and getting my feet licked, I
started to completely forget about the fag in front of me.
Instead I focused on the video. I laughed a few times at
different parts of the flick when the whores were getting
fucked up the ass and lickin each others' twats. The more I
watched, the harder my dick got. I guess I wasn't really
thinkin about the faggot bein there as I started to rub my
boner through the fabric of my jeans.

Finally I sighed and squeezed my dick at exactly the same
time that I glanced down to see the faggot staring up at me.
He was watchin me rub myself. "What are you lookin at
bitch!" I demanded. "Pay attention to your job or I'm gonna
kick your fuckin ass!"

He quickly looked back down at my feet and continued to lick
them.

It was about this time that I started remembering my
conversation with Rick. Oddly all the arguments he'd made
for usin a fag for head suddenly seemed to make so much more
sense. I guess it was simply a matter of being in that
particular moment,a little drunk, horny, and with a faggot
right there at my disposal.

Here I'd been all this time usin this bitch as my foot slave
and personal servant. I let it lap away for hours on my
sweaty jock feet. I knew it went home to its dorm room every
night and probably jacked off to the shirtless pics of me
that were on its computer. I knew it lived for no other
purpose than to please me and make me happy. Why not use it
now to take care of my needs? Who would even know?

"Bitch, I'm fuckin horny!" I said. I then pulled my legs
back and kicked the stool to the side. "I think it's time to
see just how much of a fag you really are."

Now here is what was so fuckin insane about this whole
scene. For the past few weeks this fag had been under my
control. He obeyed my every command, washing and folding my
clothes, paying me a huge percentage of his income, cleaning
for me, designing my website-- all kinds of shit. He came
over to my room and knelt on the floor like a dog to lick my
sweaty, rank feet. It was obvious that he literally
worshipped the ground that I walked on. Yet when I announced
to him that night that it was time for him to serve me like
the fag he was, I saw a look of terror in his eyes unlike
anything I'd seen before.

You would have thought that this opportunity that he was
being presented with would be a dream-cum-true for him.
You'd have thought that he would be begging and pleading
with me for the privilege of suckin my jock dick. Even the
online fags that had never met me in person always tried to
get me to consider it.

Of course I didn't really care at that moment what this
bitch wanted. I didn't care if it liked the idea of being my
cocksucker. All I really cared about was that I had a rock
hard boner, a porn flick on the TV in front of me, and a wet
hole to slide my dick into. What I learned later was that
Terry really had been fantasizing about this moment from the
first day we met. It was very much a dream come true for
him. He was just scared. He was afraid of not pleasing me
the way I deserved. He was afraid of just exactly how rough
I was gonna be with him. He was afraid I'd be pissed
afterwards and beat him up. The dude was basically just a
total pussy, afraid of his own fuckin shadow.

And seeing that fear in his eyes as he stared up at me was
what motivated me most. As I looked down at him I felt a
wave of hatred and disgust wash over me. This faggot at my
feet was so pathetic, kneeling there in his pajamas with his
messed up hair. His body was so puny and twig-like with his
gangly limbs sprawled out. He reminded me of an insect. As I
stood up from my chair I continued to look down on this
waste of skin and was reminded of every faggot I'd ever
encountered. They were all the same. Weak. Cowardly.
Incapable. Effeminate. Ugly.

He was so startled and so frightened that he couldn't even
bring himself to respond coherently. He just stared up at
me, moving his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to
formulate some sort of reply. It was then that I felt the
rage within me bubble up and I turned my body slightly,
lifting my arm across my chest and then proceeded to swiftly
backhand him right across his dorky, faggot face.

It certainly wasn't the hardest I'd ever hit anyone. In
fact, the blow wouldn't have even qualified as a punch in a
real fight. But to the fag it was like he'd just been hit by
a train. He gasped and let out a sudden sob-like sound. It
seemed for a second he was gonna fall over but he managed to
remain upright and simply hung his head shamefully.

"Look at me bitch!" I demanded. I was already reaching down
to unbutton my jeans. As he craned his neck upward to view
his Master who was towering over him, I saw the moistness in
his eyes. He was already in tears.

My cock throbbed inside my boxers, and I wasted no time
freeing it. Once it was out, I didn't even take the time to
pull my pants the rest of the way off. I just stepped up to
the bitch, planting my feet firmly on each side of his
scrawny body. With my left hand I held my cock by the base
and with my right I grabbed the back of his head and I then
gave the order, "Suck it, faggot!"

Of course he did as ordered, opening his mouth without
hesitation, and I slid right in. As he wrapped his lips
around my shaft I watched my cock slip in. It felt smooth
and warm, an incredibly silky feeling, no different than it
would have felt had it been some chick's mouth. Once inside,
I released the grip I had on my cock and used both hands to
grab the faggots head.

I have no idea whether this faggot had a lot of experience
givin head or not, but the surprising way he was able to
take the entire length of my cock down to my pubes seemed to
indicate he'd at least had some practice. Maybe it's just
that faggots are natural born cocksucker's, but I showed no
mercy as I drove my prick straight in as far as it would go
and he didn't so much as gag.

Of course it always feels good to get your cock licked and
sucked, but in all honesty I had never literally impaled a
bitch on my fuckstick the way I did when I plugged this fag.
I actually felt the tightness of its throat around the top
couple inches of my cock. It felt so tight and warm that I
held his head like that for a few seconds, thrusting my
pelvis forward to achieve sustained, maximum penetration.

"Fuck!" I yelled, "Take it, bitch!"

It was after about forty-five seconds or so of grinding his
head into my groin that I felt him trying to pull back. Then
at last his body convulsed and he gagged. The phlegm and
throat-slime that erupted felt hot around my throbbing cock,
and another wave of adrenaline washed over me. I laughed
right out loud. "Gag on it, bitch!" I mercilessly jeered at
him.

I gave him a very brief respite, releasing my grip on his
head for just a few seconds, enough to allow him to gasp and
inhale some air, and then I plunged back in. And then I
began to fuck.

As I started to fuck his face like it was a hand-held-pussy,
I looked away from the faggot and over to the television.
There was some whore gettin her twat fucked as mercilessly
as I was drilling the faggot's throat. As I kept fucking I
realized I was in rhythm with the fuck flick I was watching.
The faggot throat I was using was nothing more than a pussy
to me, just like the one I was watchin on the porno.

For the next ten or fifteen minutes I continued to
rhythmically pump my cock in and out of his tight throat. I
was holding his head tightly in a stationary position and
pistoning my cock in and out. Several times during the
assault I felt him struggle, trying to pull away from me. I
think it actually was a reflex reaction because he did this
always right before he was about to gag. I loved the
tightness of his throat around my cock when he gagged like
that.  I could feel his throat walls constrict around my
cock. So it was at the exact moment that he started to
struggle that I buried my fuckpole balls-deep. This made the
bitch gag fiercely, and of course every time I laughed
evilly and then continued my assault.

I had enough experience fuckin chicks to know that fuckin
hard and fast is hotter than shit, but the downside is that
it ends too damned soon. When I got to the point that I was
about to bust my nut, I stopped fucking and pulled
completely out of the faggots mouth.

He knelt there gasping, drool and slime dripping down from
his mouth onto his chin. His eyes were filled with tears and
his nose was all snotty and nasty. "You pathetic cunt!" I
said, half tempted to bitch slap him again. Instead I just
whipped his face four our five times with my hard cock. "Go
in the bathroom and get a fuckin towel. Clean yourself up,
and then get your ass back out here.. NOW!"
I should have made the faggot crawl to the bathroom, but I
didn't really care at that moment. While he was gone I
pulled off my jeans and boxers, took a couple swigs of beer
and sat back down in my recliner.

Knowing its place, the faggot slid to its knees between my
legs. My cock was still rock hard and slimy from the bitch's
throat snot. "Get back on it, cunt. Suck me for awhile, and
when I'm ready I'm gonna skull-fuck ya again."

Immediately the bitch started bobbin on my prick. I just sat
back and relaxed, watchin the video and drinkin my beer.
"Rule number one," I said casually, "When I tell ya t' suck,
don't stop til I say so. This means your tongue is in
contact with my joystick every fuckin second.

"Rule number two: I better never feel any fuck'n teeth. If I
feel em against my cock even one time, I'm gonna fuckin deck
ya. If it happens more than once, you won't have any fuckin
teeth left when you crawl outta here.

I took a swig of my beer as the fag continued to service me.
"Rule number three," I said, "Don't even fuckin think of
touchin yourself. You're here to serve me, not to get
yourself off.

"Rule number four: If you puke, you'll be cleanin it up, and
not with a towel, bitch."

"Rule number five: It's gonna last as long as I want it to.
I don't give a rat's ass if you're tired or sore or
uncomfortable or whatever. If I want it to last all goddamn
night, you'll keep suckin til I'm finished.

"Rule number six: You'll serve me always on your knees. That
means you don't sit. You don't squat. You don't reposition
yourself to get more comfortable. You fuckin kneel like the
faggot slave you are. I don't fuckin care if you feel like
your knees and ankles are gonna fuckin fall right off.

He continued to bob away, sliding up and down on my
fuckpole. He pressed his tongue against the underside of my
shaft and wrapped his faggot lips tightly around my shaft as
he slurped away.

"And finally, rule number seven: You will always swallow.
Every fuckin drop bitch, and it goes straight down the
throat. I like to nut balls-deep."

And then I set my beer down and grabbed hold of his head
again. I was like a king on a fuckin throne, sittin there
with my legs spread wide apart and a slut between em takin
my jock cock. I started to pump.

Unlike a few minutes ago when I was standing up, this time I
kept my body stationary and pumped the faggot. I was usin
the faggot's head to jack myself off, just like Rick had
joked about. I knew instantly that this was gonna be my
favorite position.

I had complete control. As the faggot maintained a tight
suction around my cock, I was able to guide his head exactly
the way I wanted. I felt his wet tongue pressing against the
sensitive underside of my shaft and as I pumped him I could
keep him positioned at the perfect spot to maximize my
pleasure. I would have been able to go on for hours, hedging
my way closer and closer to orgasm without cumming, but
honestly I was in the mood to nut.

After about another ten minutes of relentless pumping, I
again felt myself approaching orgasm, and I decided to get
serious. I then pumped the bitch with unmatched violence,
allowing myself to moan and curse loudly. "Fuck yeah!
Unnghh!" Then as I finally crossed over that point of no
return, I slammed the faggot all the way down, again burying
my cock deep into its throat, and released my fuckin nut.

What a fuckin trip. My first face-fuck.Why'd the hell I wait
so long?