Date: Sat, 9 Jun 2012 15:44:48 -0500
From: Steve Street <rssmaster@cox.net>
Subject: The faint aroma of soap - Part 7

The hunger I feel drives the thoughts of whipping to the back of my mind. I
get up and walk into the kitchen. Boy is kneeling with his hands on his
ankles, and head bowed. I look over to the table and see that he has set
the two places, and that food steams from the plates. I take a few moments
and enjoy the sight of the masculine beauty of boy's body. Even the cock
cage, in some strange way, adds to his attractiveness.  As I walk over to
my chair, I run my fingers through the strip of hair on boy's head and sit
down. Boy has prepared lasagna and a small salad. I tell boy to get up and
sit in his chair. Boy quickly gets up and, with obvious caution, slides
into his chair ass first and waits, hands at his side, for me to start
eating. I pick up my fork and, purposely, take my time pushing the fork
through the top edge of the lasagna.

 Boy's eyes are focused on my fork; he cannot start eating until I put the
first bite in my mouth. I put the fork of lasagna in my mouth and watch him
pick up his fork. Before I have eaten three bites, he has eaten about half
of his lasagna. Boy may be eating quickly, but he does so with correctness
- keeping his back straight, head up, bringing the food to his mouth
without spilling any of it. After boy has eaten everything he waits, his
chin on his chest, for me to finish. I push my empty plate back and tell
boy to stand up and clean-up the kitchen and when he has completed that
task, to go into the den.

I walk into the den and turn on the music system, tuning in a jazz station,
adjust the volume to be just loud enough for me to hear. I sit at my desk
and power up my computer. In a few moments, I am focused on my in-box,
which is full. I have several e-mails from the firm and begin responding. I
am so engaged in what I am doing that I do not notice that boy has come in
and has knelt next to my chair. After sending a message, I look over and
see boy in the expected position with his hands on his ankles and head
bowed. I reach down, and rub the back of his neck. Boy looks up as I touch
him, and i put my hand on his cheek. I smile, feeling a warm glow pass
through me and, in spite of having fucked boy not three hours ago, my cock
starts to get hard.  I put these erotic thoughts aside, for the moment, and
tell boy to get on his ass with his back against my desk chair. He turns
and gets comfortable with his legs out in front of him. I hand him the
I-pod and tell him to have fun. I do not know whether boy likes the music,
as I do, or whether he pays any attention to it. Within moments, he is
absorbed in a game, letting out soft yips and moans as he plays.

I turn back to my computer, and I am immediately fully and pleasantly
absorbed dealing with the business matters. Completing the last response to
Max and my secretary at the office, I look at the time. Almost two hours
have passed. I smile to myself thinking how fast time goes by when I am
doing what I like.  There remains one unopened e-mail.

I open the message. It is from Howie, my friend and fellow Master. The
message states that he looks forward to spending a weekend at my place.

  "I look forward to spending a weekend at your home. I will, of course,
bring along my boy. We can talk at length in the privacy of your home
exploring our mutual experience as a Master. As Masters we belong to a
limited and excusive group. I do not know whether you have met other
Masters but, except for you, I have not.  I am fortunate that we have
become friends. My first free weekend is two weeks from this Friday. Let me
know if this date is good. If not, give me another date.  Your
friend. Howie"

I let my thoughts drift after reading this message. I picture Howie and me
sitting on the couch having a lively discussion while our boys kneel,
naked, at our feet. That erotic scene in my mind, I type out my reply to
Howie's e-mail.

"Two weeks from this Friday works. Let me know about what time you think
you will be here that Friday. My boy is a tolerable cook, a result of weeks
of diligent training on my part, and he will prepare all our meals. I have
a large back yard with grass and trees and, since the nearest neighbor is
more than 400 yards away, affords complete privacy. We can have the boys
outside in their naked splendor without concern about any prying eyes.  The
guest bedroom has a large double bed, and an adjacent bathroom with a
walk-in shower. I share your sense of good fortune that we are
friends. Like you, I have not met any other Master. You are a good friend
and a Master as well. Your friend, Jake"

I let out a sigh of satisfaction as I push the 'send' button and turn off
the computer. I look down at boy, still absorbed in his game and,
apparently, unaware that I have turned off the computer. I put my hand over
his shoulder and touch the I-pod as I tell him to turn off the power and
hand it to me. With some reluctance, he turns the I-pod power off and lets
me take it. I put the I-pod on my desk and walk over to my chair. Boy has
gotten back onto his knees and furtively looks my way, no doubt wondering
what he is to do. I sit down and tell boy to come over.

Boy hurriedly rises to his feet, walks over and kneels in front of
me. "Tell me, boy" I ask him "what you must worship every day?"  The
question I asked him frequently during his early training.

His head still bowed, he said, "Master, I must worship your cock every day"

I stood up and instructed him to remove my pants. Boy brings his hands up,
unzips and unbuttons my pants. The pants fall to my feet, and boy puts his
lips on the tip of my cock. Boy keeps his eye focused on my cock as I sit
down.

"Good boy," I say. "Now I want you to kiss and lick my cock until I am
satisfied you have shown my cock the devotion it deserves."

Boy leans his head forward and starting at the base of my now hard cock,
slowly plants little kisses on my cock working his way down until his lips
kiss the tip. Using his tongue, he licks the underside of my cock, the tip
and back up the top of my cock and then licks down the length and licks the
underside. I say nothing, just enjoy the pleasure flowing from my cock, and
let him lick for several minutes.

As he continues his worshipful licking, I tell him "Boy, you pleased me
this evening with the dinner you prepared. You did not prepare a dessert,
which I did not want or need anyway, but I think you deserve dessert. So,
for your well-earned dessert, you can savor and eat my sweet cream. Now I
want you to swallow my cock and slowly suck it until you receive my cream"

Boy immediately puts his lips around my cock and little by little moves his
head forward until his lips touches my public hairs, and my cock is in his
throat. Boy has learned, after much training and practice, to swallow my
cock into his throat without gagging and to breathe through his nose while
doing so. Boy remains motionless for several seconds, letting his throat
adjust to the intrusion. As he leans his head back, I feel his tongue swipe
the base of my cock. He then pushes his head forward until his lips touch
my pubs and pause for one or two seconds with my cock is in his throat. Boy
repeats these movements with a regular pace for several minutes, not
seeming to tire, breathing loudly through his nose. I enjoy the ecstatic
pleasure he is giving me, and I let him do all the work. Sensing that I am
about to ejaculate, I hold boy's head steady with my hands under his ears,
move my cock so it is not in his throat, and I feel the orgasmic charge as
my cream spurts from my cock. Boy gulps rapidly trying to swallow all of my
cream as it streams out of my cock. In spite of his efforts, a little
amount of my cream drips from the corner of his mouth. I smile down at boy
as I gently move his head back and my cock drops out of his mouth. Using my
finger, I wipe up the errant cream on his chin and put the finger in his
mouth, telling him to suck the finger clean.

I lean back in the chair, letting the orgasmic tension slowly fade, and
watch boy lick his lips and swallow several times. I get up, pick up my
pants, and tell boy to follow me to the bedroom. I turn out all the lights
and walk into the bedroom and into the bathroom. Boy kneels behind me as I
piss into the toilet. I flush the toilet and tell boy to relieve his
bladder. I listen to his strong piss stream splash into the water, another
measure I take to track his general health. Boy gets up and kneels in front
of me. I look in the toilet. The water is a light yellow color, which
satisfies me. I flush the toilet, motion for boy to follow me, and walk
into the bedroom.

"OK boy," I tell him, "turn down the covers and get into bed on your side."
I turn off the lights as he assumes his position on the bed. I sit on the
side of the bed, turn off the table lamp, and lay next to boy. Putting my
arm over his chest, I hug his back into my chest, pressing my now soft cock
against his ass. I gently nibble his ear lobe and whisper "You give me
pleasure, boy, and I love you."

I wake up. The sunlight through the window dimly lights the bedroom. I look
at the clock on the table next to the bed - it says 6:00. Unusually early
for me but I feel rested and refreshed. Boy gently snores, his head nestled
on my chest. I stretch my legs, not wanting to wake boy up just yet, and
enjoy the sensation of his warm breath on my chest. After a while, I push
the covers down with my legs while nudging boy's shoulder. Reflexively, boy
stretches and yawns. As he opens his eyes, he puts his lips on my chest and
moves his head downwards towards my cock. Boy licks my balls and then the
underside of my cock. I wonder how I ever started a day without the
pleasure of boy's tongue licking my cock and balls before I get up in the
morning. The pleasure, however, is being overridden by my need to
piss. This week, I decide, I will train boy to drink my piss.

No longer able to ignore my urgent need to piss, I raise my legs pushing
boy away from my cock. I tell him to get out of bed. We both get up, and he
follows me into the bathroom and kneels behind me as I piss. When I have
emptied my bladder, I flush the toilet. "Boy," I tell him, "sit on the
toilet and empty your bladder, and if you need to, you have permission to
shit." I start brushing my teeth, listening to the splash of his piss
stream as it hits the toilet water. I finish brushing my teeth. Boy is now
off the toilet and on his knees. I look into the toilet - as I expected, he
did not have a bowel movement and the color of his urine looked healthy. I
flush the toilet and walk into the shower. Boy, it seems to me, is more
attentive than usual. He takes his time drying my back, gently massages my
balls in the towel, and flicks his tongue into my piss slit as he kisses my
cock.

"Boy, while I get dressed, you go to the kitchen and prepare our
breakfast. This morning I want fresh grapefruit, a bowl of Special K cereal
sprinkled with wheat germ and topped with sliced banana and an English
muffin."  Without further instruction, boy gets up from his knees and walks
out towards the kitchen. I reminisce, as I start dressing, about the first
few weeks I had boy. I spent a lot of time training him how I wanted my
meals prepared. I smile to myself, remembering how that special butt plug
helped him understand and obey. In those first weeks, I kept that training
plug up his ass just about all day every day. Whenever he failed to listen
or just did something wrong, I would press the button on the remote and the
plug would emit a quick but painful electric shock.

I finish dressing and walk into the kitchen. Boy is putting the bowls of
cereal on the table as I walk in. He puts the bowls down and kneels close
to my feet. I put my hand on his left cheek and as he looks up, I give him
a big heart-felt smile. "Now get up boy and get the rest of breakfast
ready."

Boy gets to his feet. I walk over and sit in my chair. I watch boy scurry
to get the rest of the food on the table and then kneel next to his
chair. He has prepared everything pretty much as I like it. "You did well,
boy," I tell him. "I am pleased. Now sit in the chair, and we will enjoy
this meal."  I watch boy eat and I think, as I did in the shower, that boy
seems to be making an extra effort to please me this morning. As usual, he
has finished while I am still eating and sits quietly, a contented smile on
his face, waiting for my instructions. "Boy," I tell him, " get up and fix
us each a cup of coffee."

Boy gets up, pours the coffee and puts a cup in front of me and the other
at his place. "Remain standing," I tell him. I take a sip of my coffee, and
wait for a moment. I flick his cock cage with my finger. "Tell me, boy," I
ask him, "when can you touch that cock?"

"Master, only with your permission," boy responds.

"Or to get it clean for me," I tell him. "Because you disobeyed that rule I
cannot have your sweet cream in my coffee this morning. Now, sit down."

Boy, sits down with care, and is no longer smiling.

 "Continue to please me boy, as you have this morning, and that cage will
come off in a few days, and then I can milk your cock and enjoy your sweet
cream in my coffee. Think about that when that caged cock gives you
discomfort. Understand, boy?"

"Yes, Master," boy responds, his voice shaking. "And Master, I will never
again touch my cock without your permission. I need to have my cock milked
so badly, Master, that it hurts."

"Your needs have no importance, boy."  I tell him. "I will milk your cock
for my pleasure, not yours."

"Yes, Master," he responds, clearly struggling to keep from crying.

"Now, boy," I continue, "when we have finished the coffee, I want you to
clean up the kitchen and then do the laundry. And when you take the clothes
out of the drier, neatly fold them or put them on hangers and put them in
their proper place. While you do the laundry, vacuum the carpet in both the
den and living room. Under no circumstances are you to go into either
bathroom until I get back from shopping. You have not been doing an
adequate job of shaving your body, and I want to supervise your body
cleaning this morning. If you finish the laundry and vacuuming before I
return, come into the kitchen and wait for me. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," boy promptly responds. "I will clean-up the kitchen, do the
laundry and vacuum the carpets in the den and living room and wait in the
kitchen for your return."

"Good boy," I tell him. "I am going to the super-market this morning to
restock our food supply. I expect to be back in about two hours. Now drink
your coffee and then stand up and get started."

I stretch my legs out and sip my coffee. I am no hurry. I enjoy watching
boy's lithe body as he moves around the kitchen. I drink the last of the
coffee, and saying nothing more to boy, walk out of the kitchen. I walk
down the hall to the guest bedroom. I lock the bedroom door to prevent boy
from using the attached bathroom.  I walk to the garage.

 My mind focuses on shopping as I park the car in the super market parking
lot. I eat to live. I quit eating large, multi-course meals long ago. I
enjoy meals that are simple and nutritious. Anyway, while boy is a
tolerable cook, I want food he can prepare quickly without spending a lot
of time doing so. I push the shopping cart through the aisles of the store,
taking my time, especially when I go down the frozen-food aisle. Prepared
frozen meals are not only tasty, the right ones are nutritious, and just
about all of them can be quickly prepared in the microwave.  I check my
mental inventory of what I need and want as I move down each aisle. My cart
is all but overflowing with fresh fruit, frozen meals and vegetables and
household supplies, by the time I start back towards the check-out counter.

I park my car in my garage and using the electronic remote, close the
garage door. I have an urgent need to piss as I walk into the kitchen and
continue walking to the master bath. The bathroom door is open and I see
boy sitting on the toilet. Apparently, he is in the midst of a bowel
movement which prevents him from getting to his knees. Boy lowers his head,
struggling to push out the rest of his shit so he can get off the toilet.

"I did not give your permission to shit, boy," I tell him sternly.

Boy slips his ass off the toilet, the plastic cage on his cock clanks
against the edge of the toilet bowl, and gets to his knees. "Master, I had
to go so bad I couldn't wait. I'm sorry, Master."

"You know better, boy," I respond. "You cannot piss, let alone shit,
without me telling you to do so. You have disobeyed me, and I am not at all
pleased."

Boy hangs his head lower. "I'm really, really sorry Master," There was a
note of despair in his voice as he said this. He knows that there will be a
painful consequence to my catching him shitting without my permission.

I step behind boy and look into the toilet. The toilet bowl is filled with
a soft mass of shit, which satisfies me. I can tell that he, indeed, had an
urgent need to relieve his bowels. Nonetheless, he disobeyed and he will
suffer the consequences. I take out my cock and piss over the shitty
contents in the toilet and then put my cock back in my pants and flush the
toilet. "OK, boy," I tell him. "I will deal with your disobedience
later. Did you get the laundry finished?"

"Yes, Master, " he responds.

"Good. Get up, go to the kitchen and wait for me."

Boy gets to his feet, and his head lowered, walks out of the bathroom. I
walk out of the bathroom and into the living room. I have a fully stocked
bar on one side of the living room. I do not imbibe alcohol very often, but
once in a great while, I enjoy a good bourbon. My favorite is Jack Daniels
poured over ice and sweetened with vermouth.  I also have a modest stock of
good wine. I pick up one of the bar stools and carry it into the
kitchen. Boy is kneeling, hands around his ankles and his head down. I walk
to the far end of the kitchen and place the bar stool against the wall. I
walk back and into the den. After picking up my Kindle reader, I walk to
the closet and grab the bamboo rod. I walk back into the kitchen, put the
rod on the top of the bar stool, and then sit in my chair at the kitchen
table.

 "Get to your feet, boy. Go to the garage and bring in the groceries from
the trunk of my car and when you have put away all the groceries, I will
tell you what to fix for our lunch."

"Yes, Master", he says as he stands up. I watch boy walk out to the garage
as I turn on my Kindle reader. I am absorbed in the novel I down loaded
from the computer last evening and pay little attention to boy as he
quietly moves from the refrigerator to the cupboards putting away the food
and the household goods I bought this morning. I reach the end of a chapter
in the novel and turn off the Kindle. Boy is kneeling by my chair. I take a
moment to look around the kitchen and am satisfied that boy has put
everything away, and all is neat and orderly.

"OK, boy," I say to him. "Fix us something to eat. Make it sliced turkey
sandwiches with jellied cranberry sauce and mayonnaise. And an apple and
pear for each of us, quartered and cored. Now, stand up and get to it."

"Yes, Master," boy responds as he gets to his feet.

As he prepares the meal, boy has his back to me most of the time, which is
more than fine with me. The way his ass muscles twitch as he moves, his
balls hanging down from the cock cage, provide a delightful sight. Boy has
a masculine beauty. His ass has no feminine roundness but a muscular
firmness. I watch his movements with a sense of erotic contentment as well
as pleasure. Soon enough, boy has the food prepared and brings two plates,
one with the sandwich the other with the fruit, and puts them in front of
me and scurries back to the counter and returns with two more plates which
he puts on the table and gets to his knees. "Outstanding, boy," I tell
him. "you have prepared what looks like a first-rate lunch. Sit in your
chair and eat."

Boy, a smile on his face as if the storm has passed, gets up and ass first,
slides onto his chair and waits for me to start eating. I do not hurry
eating, the sandwich, indeed, is very good. After I have eaten everything,
I push the plates back. Boy finished eating several minutes earlier and is
quietly sitting with his head lowered waiting for my instruction. "Boy," I
tell him, "stand up and go over to where I am pointing, pick up the bar
stool and rod, and bring them over here to the table"

Boy's shoulders drop when he hears my words and sees the stool and cane on
the other side of the kitchen. Slowly, he walks across the kitchen, picks
up the bar stool, and holding the cane steady with his thumbs so it would
not fall off, even more slowly walks back to the kitchen table and puts
down the bar stool.

"Remain standing, boy and put your hands behind your back," I tell him. Boy
puts his hands behind his back, a worried look on his face."You disobeyed
me this morning by breaking a fundamental rule. Tell me what rule you
broke"

"Master," boy responds, his voice shaking and low, "I took a shit without
your permission."

"You know that you cannot shit without my permission. You know you cannot
piss without my permission. You know that you cannot ejaculate without my
permission. You understand that, don't you boy?"

"Yes, Master. I understand." Boy responds as he strains to hold back from
sobbing.

"Then, repeat to me, boy, those rules."

His voice catching between sobs boy tells me the rules. "Master, I must
have your permission to piss. Master, I must have your permission to
shit. Master, I must have your permission to ejaculate."

"You do understand those rules boy. To break any of them is an act of
disobedience that demands fifteen strokes of the cane," I tell him as I
watch his body shiver, "but you have done everything I instructed you to do
this morning, and I am pleased with the good job you have done. So I am
reducing the strokes to seven."

I wait about a half minute, giving boy a chance to absorb what is going to
happen to him. "Get on the stool, boy, on your stomach and grab the stool
legs with your hands."

I stand up and watch boy, his body shivering, lay over the bar stool. His
caged cock clanks against the edge of stool seat and his ass is up. I push
his feet further apart with my foot and pick up the cane. I confess, I
truly enjoy the sight before me. That milk-white muscular ass seems to me
to be inviting the bite of the cane. I wait a minute, savoring the sight. I
step over so I am standing on boy's side, raise my arm and, within a split
second the cane swooshes down and, with a sharp crack, lands on boy's
ass. Boys' body jerks and he lets out a yelp at what must be excruciating
pain. "That's one, boy." I tell him. Before I give the next stroke I watch
as a fiery red streak begins to show on his ass where the cane
landed. After each stroke, I announce the number and wait a full minute to
watch the fiery streak develop on his ass. I administer the seventh stroke,
and stand back putting the cane down. Boy is sobbing deeply as I admire the
neat pattern of red welts that now graces his masculine ass.

I sit down. I wait about five minutes, listening to boy's abating sobs. By
that time, he is only sniveling, and his body has quit shaking. "Alright,
boy," I tell him, " Get off the stool and kneel in front of me." Slowly,
boy gets off the stool, and without standing up, drops to his knees in
front of me. His unshaven face is wet with tears, and his nose is
running. "Tell me, boy" I ask him, "What do you have to say?"

"Master," he responds with his head lowered and voice cracking, "I thank
you for the whipping."

"Tell me, boy, what has this whipping taught you?"

"Master, that I am to never again take a shit without your permission."

"What else?", I ask.

Pausing for a moment, boy responds. "Master, that I must have your
permission to piss."

"And?" I ask.

"Master, that I cannot cum without your permission."

"I hope, boy," I tell him, "that the cane strokes burning your ass has
burned those rules into your mind.  Stand up boy and turn around."

Boy slowly gets to his feet and turns around.  I sense the heat coming from
the fiery welts on his ass. I feel as if I am an art critic appraising the
work of a painter or sculptor. I find beauty in the pattern of red welts,
superbly contrasted against the milky-white skin of his ass. As I guess
artists do, I have a sense of satisfaction and gratification as I admire my
completed work.

"All right, boy," I tell him. "I want you to clean up the kitchen and while
you are at the counter, you are to blow your nose and clean the snot off of
your face. When you have those tasks completed, I want you to fill a large
glass with water and drink it all and then go to the master bathroom."

 "Yes, Master," boy responds and promptly starts walking towards the
kitchen-sink counter.

 I pick up the Kindle reader and walk out of the kitchen to the den. I hear
boy loudly blowing his nose, and I cannot help but smile to myself. I walk
into the den, sit at my desk and put the Kindle reader on the desk top. I
think about how contented and calm I feel at this moment. While caning boy
I felt no rage, no anger, no adrenaline rush. I felt I was doing what I
wanted to do. Frankly, I enjoyed doing what needed to be done to accomplish
a desired goal.

I walk out of the den to the master bath. Boy is kneeling in front of the
toilet facing the door.

"Turn around and face the toilet, boy. I want you to brush your teeth, and
because you were a bad boy this morning, you will use the toilet water."

"Yes, Master," boy responds. As boy swivels around to face the toilet I
pick up his toothbrush and the toothpaste from the sink counter. I hold
them in front of boy's face.

"Take your toothbrush and the toothpaste and brush your teeth, " I tell him

 I stand back, my arms folded across my chest, and watch boy brush his
teeth while I admire the fiery red pattern on his ass.

 "Put your head down into the toilet bowl, boy," I tell him. "Don't hurry
the brushing. Do a thorough job" Boy keeps his head inside the toilet bowl,
raising his head a couple of times to put toothpaste on his brush. I see
that he has stopped brushing.

"Suck up some toilet water, boy, and rinse your mouth."  I hear boy suck up
some water and a few seconds later, spit it out. "Do it again, boy, " I
tell him. I take the toothpaste and toothpaste from his hands after he has
rinsed his mouth the second time, run some tap water over the toothbrush
and place it and the toothpaste on the counter.

"Stand up and get in the shower, boy," I tell him. "After you have your
body rinsed, turn off the shower and lather up your head, face and neck
with the shaving cream."

"Yes, Master," boy responds.

I put down the toilet seat, sit, and watch boy apply the lather to his
head, face and neck.

"Get over here in front of the mirror and shave your head, face and neck" I
instruct him.

"Yes, Master," boy responds as he walks over to the sink counter and faces
the mirror.

Boy has shaved like this countless times since I have had him with me. I
watch him turn on the hot water tap, open the top drawer on the sink
counter and pick up one of disposable safety razors. I keep a supply of
disposable safety razors in that drawer and another supply on the shelf
next to the shower head. Starting at the back of his head, he effortlessly
applies the safety razor, using short strokes, rinsing the razor frequently
under the hot tap water. He does this until he has shaved the entire left
side of his head. He throws the safety razor in the trash can, picks up a
fresh razor from the drawer and repeats the process on the right side of
his head. When he has finished shaving his head, leaving only the strip of
hair down the middle of his head, he throws the razor into the trash, gets
a new one and proceeds to shave the left side of his face. In about fifteen
minutes he has finished shaving both sides of his face and his neck. During
all this time, I think he has ignored the throbbing pain from the welts on
his ass.

"Into the shower, boy." I instruct him. "Rinse off your body, turn off the
shower, and lather up your chest, abs and legs with the shaving cream. You
will not shave your ass today."

"Yes, Master." Boy walks into the shower area. In less than two minutes boy
has rinsed his body and coated the entire front of his body and his legs
with the shaving soap.

"Now, boy, starting with your arm pits, shave your body. I do not want one
hair left when you are through. Your body is to be as smooth as the skin on
a new baby. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," he responds as he picks up one of the disposable razors,
lifts his left arm over his head, and starts shaving his arm pit. Again, he
has done this full body shave every day for weeks. I watch him shave his
arm pit, step to the side, turn on the shower, rinse the razor, and proceed
to shave his right arm pit. I think he is being extra careful this
morning. He shaves a small area, rubs his fingers across the shaved area,
and sometimes shaves the same area a second time. Watching boy shave his
body is not only pleasurable for me, that it certainly is, but, somehow,
very satisfying. Boy gets a fresh razor three times, throwing the used
razor into the trash can in the corner of the shower area. After little
more than a half hour, he has shaved both legs and stands under the shower.

"Get all the soap off, boy," I tell him. "Then get your body dry with a
towel and assume the kneeling position in front of me"

Boy rinses away the soap under the shower, turns the shower off, picks up a
towel from the rack, dries his body, drops the towel and kneels at my feet,
his hands around his ankles. I run the palms of my hand methodically over
his body, starting with his head and down to his caged cock.

"Very good, boy," I tell him. "Your skin is as smooth as silk. Now, tell me
what you want and need to worship every day."

"Master," he responds, "I worship your cock, Master. I want to worship your
cock, Master."

"You may worship my cock now, boy. Take my cock out of my pants and show it
the depth of your devotion."

I lean back as boy brings his hands up and unzips my pants. I have my jock
underwear on so he has to pry the fly open with his fingers. I feel his
fingers gently grasp the middle of my cock. When he has my cock out, he
puts his hands back on his ankles, leans his head forward and starting at
its base, begins kissing my cock. My cock hardens as I feel his tongue lick
its underside. I let boy continue the devotional ministration of his lips
and tongue for several l minutes, enjoying the blissful sensation flowing
from my cock. I stand up and boy leans back, his eyes remaining focused on
my cock. I put my cock in my pants and zip up.

"Follow me into the den, boy," I tell him.

I walk into the den, boy behind me. "Kneel over there, boy," I tell him,
pointing to a space in the middle of the den floor with my finger. Boy
walks to the middle of the room and kneels, putting his hands on his
ankles, but struggles to keep his ass from touching the carpet. He keeps
his head down, and I guess he knows there will be no I-pod games.

 I sit at my desk and power up my computer. I see several messages from my
firm in the in-box and one from my friend, Howie. I am quickly and
pleasantly engrossed in dealing with the business e-mail. I have taken care
of all the business e-mail and open the message from Howie.

"Jake, I will be at your place between 3:00 and 4:00 in the afternoon a
week from this Friday. I was wondering how I was going to take care of my
boy's natural functions while there, but that you have a big back yard with
trees and privacy works beautifully to meet boy's needs. I will bring with
me the pooper-scooper I use at my place. I am eager to have many long
discussions with you exploring our mutual experience as Masters. I know we
will have a good and fun time. Your friend, Howie."

I sit back after reading the message. I have seen pictures of boy-dogs
pissing and shitting outside. I picture in my mind Howie taking his dog
slave into my backyard for a 'dog walk'. I wonder if Howie has trained his
boy to lift his leg to piss - I expect he has - and my cock thickens a
little at the prospect of watching dog-boy piss against a tree. I type out
my response to Howie.

"Howie, A week from this Friday will be the beginning of a memorable,
fruitful and exciting weekend. Like you, I want to explore our mutual
experience. Who knows, we may open vistas for each other that will make the
relationship we each have with our slave-boy even richer and more
stimulating. I am excited just thinking about watching what you do with
your pooper-scooper. I and boy will warmly greet you and your boy when you
arrive a week from Friday.  And not just by the way, bring with you
whatever you need. I have plenty of room, and boy can do the work of
getting it in and out of your vehicle. Your friend, Jake."

I push the send button. I look forward to a week from Friday like a kid
yearns for Christmas. I look over at boy. I think he is a little
uncomfortable, but he has his ass on the carpet. I open the work-out
program on my computer and fill in the weights and sets we will do this
afternoon. I send the schedules to the printer and power off the computer.

I pick up the print-outs and get to my feet. "Get up, boy," I say. "We are
going to do our daily workout." Boy follows me to the workout room and
kneels next to the treadmill. I take off my clothes, pull on my gym shorts
and sit in the chair. After putting on my socks and gym shoes, I stand up.

"Put on your socks and shoes, boy" I say, "while I warm up."" I start to
walk the treadmill watching the pained expression on boy's face as he
slowly lowers his ass to the floor. I finish the warm-up and step off the
treadmill. Boy has his shoes on and is back on his knees.

"Stand up, boy. Get on the treadmill. Set the program to twenty minutes,
level 3."

Boy starts walking the treadmill as I check my routine on the
clipboard. Today we will do full body using dumbbells. I finish the first
exercise and look over at boy. He is in a light trot, and sweat is
beginning to bead on his chest and back. I miss watching his cock swing as
he trots, but his stripped ass has its own appeal for me. I only do one set
of each exercise, and I am through in less than forty-five minutes and boy
is on his knees next to the treadmill.

"Stand up, boy," I tell him. "Check your schedule and start doing the
exercises." He can do all the exercises standing up except two - the
dumbbell chest press and the sitting shoulder press. I watch him work out,
my arms folded on my chest, giving him verbal nudges to correct his form or
his speed. Upon completion of the required two sets, boy checks off the
exercise on the log sheet. The expression on his face tells me that he is
enjoying himself. In over a little more than hour, boy has completed all
the exercises.

Boy checks off the last exercise. "You did good, boy," I tell him. "Now
bend over and take off your shoes and socks. Then go to the kitchen and
prepare us each a protein smoothie. Put in pecans, the fresh blackberries
and two bananas."

"Master, thank you" boy responds. No doubt glad that he is not required to
sit on his tender ass to take off his shoes.

I watch boy, his back glistening with sweat, walk out towards the
kitchen. I pick up my pants and shoes, and still wearing my gym shorts and
gym shoes, walk into my bedroom and put the clothes on the clothes horse
next to my dresser.  I walk to the kitchen. Boy is slicing a banana into
the blender when I walk in. Hearing me come into the kitchen, boy hastily
turns around and kneels, knife in one hand and banana in the other. I
chuckle at the humorous but pleasing sight.

"Get up, boy," I tell him as I give him a smile. "Finish preparing the
smoothies."

"Yes, Master," boy responds as he gets to his feet. I sit in my chair at
the kitchen table. While boy puts the remaining ingredients into the
blender, I appreciate, again, the erotic beauty created by the pattern of
red welts on his milky-white ass. Boy runs the blender and fills two large
glasses full with the creamy mixture. Boy walks over and puts one glass on
the table in front of me. Before he puts down the second glass I tell him
"Stay standing while you drink the smoothie."

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master," he responds and then waits until I start
drinking.

I put the glass to my lips and take two long, but slow swallows and boy
gulps down over half of his glass.  I give him a smile, and while I savor
the milky liquid in my glass, he quickly drains his glass. Boy remains
standing, his arms to his side, holding the empty glass in one hand. I
drink the last of the smoothie and put my glass down on the table.

"Good job, boy," I tell him. "I enjoyed that smoothie. Now clean up the
kitchen and when you have finished that, go to the master bath. You can
piss and if you need to, empty your bowels but do not flush the
toilet. Take a shower to get the sweat off your body and use plenty of soap
to clean your ass."

"Yes, Master," boy responds. He picks up the empty glasses and walks to the
kitchen-sink counter. I stretch my legs out and enjoy the sight of his
beautifully patterned ass as he washes the blender and puts the dirty
dishes in the dishwasher. Finishing the cleaning, boy walks out of the
kitchen to the master bath. I take off my gym shoes and socks and walk out
to the workout room, strip off my gym shorts and put them and the shoes
next to the chair. I walk into the master bath. Boy is showering. His ass
well soaped and the fingers of his right hand gingerly pressing into his
ass crack. I look into the toilet. As I expected, boy had no bowel
movement, but the water has a soft yellow color as a result of his piss. I
empty my bladder and flush the toilet. I watch boy rinse the soap from his
body, turn off the shower, take a towel from the rack and dry his
body. When he has his legs dry, he kneels at my feet. I run my hand over
his head as I walk into the shower area.

The warm water sooths my muscles, but I only take enough time showering to
get the sweat off. I turn off the shower. Boy, still kneeling, has a clean
towel draped over his arms. I pick up the towel and dry my upper body. I
sense that boy is especially attentive as he dries my back and spends a
little extra time gently massaging my balls in the towel. After boy kisses
the tip of my cock, I pick up the bottle of lubricant that is on the sink
counter and tell boy to follow me into the bedroom.

When I reach the edge of my bed, I turn around.

"Get onto the bed, boy," I tell him before he has time to kneel.  "On your
knees with your ass up."

"Yes, Master," boy responds, putting his knees on the edge of the bed. He
leans forward onto his elbows and raises his hips. Presenting his ass like
this has always been a turn-on for me, but this morning the site of his
red-striped ass has a special erotic appeal causing my cock to become rock
hard. I savor the site for a few minutes as I imagine Howie fucking his
dog-boy. A dog, after all, cannot be on its back to be fucked. A dog has to
be on its paws and mounted from the rear. I open the bottle of lubricant
and squeeze some of the thick liquid into the palm of my hand and lubricate
my cock. I get between boy's legs and put the bottle at the top of boy's
ass crack. Boy winces as I put my other hand on his ass cheek and pull it
back exposing his rose bud. I squeeze just enough of the thick liquid out
of the bottle to drip down the ass crack without dripping onto the bed. I
take my hand away from boy's ass, put the cap back on the lubricant bottle,
and put the bottle on the floor.

Placing my hands on boy's hips, I press my cock into his ass crack. I feel
the tip of my cock touch his rose bud, and with one swift lunge, I push the
entire length of my cock into his warm confines. Boy gasps and his body
jerks with the sudden intrusion. I start fucking boy in earnest maintaining
a fast in and out pace without pausing. In less than two or three minutes,
I feel the imminence of orgasm. I pause and lay my chest on boy's back and
put my lips next to his ear. "You are pleasing me, boy," I whisper as I
resume the fast-paced fucking. Within moments, I am panting in orgasmic
ecstasy as my cock explodes.

I wait a minute or so to let my cock deflate, enjoying the after-glow of
orgasm. I pull my cock out of his ass and step back. There is a small
amount of my cream oozing out of boy's rose bud. I let boy stay in the
kneeling position on the bed as I take my clothes from the clothes horse
next to my dresser and get dressed.

"Get up, boy," I tell him. Boy slides his legs off the bed and stands
up. He turns around and starts to kneel but I stop him by putting my arms
around his back and hug him into my chest. "Boy, you are a wonderful and
most pleasing fuck" I tell him. He raises his head and I give him a long
and deep kiss. I lean my head back after the kisses and tell him " No tasks
or chores for the rest of the afternoon, boy, just a relaxing afternoon in
the den."