Date: Mon, 8 Dec 2014 22:56:29 -0500
From: Nycjohnny44 <nycjohnny44@aol.com>
Subject: Twelve Days of Domination Part 2

This story is about two men, of legal age consenting to a D/s relationship.
In real life, sex of any kind should be between two adults and it should be
safe, sane and consensual.

Show Nifty your love and support for providing an erotic and creative
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For my part, I want to thank those who took the time to write me comments
about the story. I am grateful that you took the time.

I would love to hear from anyone in a D/s or S/m relationship and let me
know what you think of the story so far and what lessons you think should
be next.


Twelve Days of Domination- Part II The Lesson of Humility


	The next few days felt as if I were walking through water. I was
functioning only to pass the time and see Daniel again. It was a dangerous
road to walk. Getting my sexual fantasies realized made me wonder what
would happen. Would they disappoint me, as they never did in my dreams when
I touched myself? Or, worse, would they be greater than I thought? Would I
need something more extreme to satisfy myself. Where would my desires lead
me? Where would Daniel lead me? A million questions brought me to his door
at 7 pm and I wasn't sure I care about the answers, or if I'd have the
courage to ask him.
	When he answered the door and ushered me inside, I saw he was
wearing a tshirt and sweat pants. He shut the door behind me, and I stood,
like an univited guest just inside the threshold.
	"Take your clothes off. All of them. Fold them, leave them by the
door and come to the living room. On your hands and knees." He walked off,
not looking at me. I didn't hesitate, knowing this man had more power over
me than I wanted, but not caring. My knees hurt as I crawled on the hard
wood floors; I thought I'd be grateful for the carpet, but it was scratchy
on my knees. He sat, with a cup of tea, reading, listening to a sad, lonely
violin in the background. I went to him, my eyes lowered, hoping for a
taste of his cock, which was tening in his sweats. I thought I could smell
him from my knees. Masculine, like leather mixed with steel and sex.
	"Today's lesson is humility. Someone like you will fight and scrap
to maintain what you think of as dignity. You'll kneel in front of me as
long as you can get to my cock. You think that the sexual contact is worth
the fleeting moment of submission. You think screwing will make you a
man. But that's not humility. You don't need dignity in front of me." My
eyebrows drew together as I tried to take in what he was saying. As he'd
done three days earlier, he took my chin in his hand to make me look in his
eyes. "I'm not taking about humiliation or degredation. Those are tools to
control you. I'm talking about true humility in front of your
superior. Humility without any reward. Your dignity is from serving a man
and doing it well. That's where pride for someone like you comes from. True
pride isn't from having a perfect body or money in the bank. Pride doesn't
come to me from controlling you. True pride, honest pride comes from
knowing who you are. Accepting that and reveling in it. This lesson is
about teaching you who you are. Do you understand?" I nodded, thinking that
this was perhaps the most perfect moment in my life as I was on my hands
and knees in front of him. His hand wiped away tears I didn't know were
running down my face. He gently pushed my head down and set my hands flat
on the floor. Using his socked foot, he prodded my ass to move my body back
and forth a few inches. When I was where he wanted he stood up and I could
hear him walk around his apartment for a few minutes. It wasn't long before
he came back.
	I felt the cup of tea in a saucer being placed on my lower back,
while his feet rested on my upper back. I admired it for a moment. It was
almost ingenious. If I moved my lower body the hot tea would spill, perhaps
down my hole and onto my balls. If I moved my upper body it would spill
onto his feet. I froze, barely breathing.
	It was because I was holding my breath that my arms began to shake.
	"Breathe." That word. That single word spoken by him, that
command. I obeyed instantly. Figuring out some way to breathe deeply
without disturbing me. Now and then he would move his feet, sometimes
resting them flat, sometimes rubing them carefully across my back. I
realized how badly I wanted to kiss his feet, to rub them, to lick them and
work my way up to his ankle. I wanted to bathe each hair around the bone of
his ankle with my tounge. I realized I'd never seen him without clothes,
and I wondered if his legs were tanned or pale, hairy or smooth, or clean
shaven. My mouth was almost salivating and I swalloed the spit. I felt my
hard cock slap against my stomach and I moaned. He leaned forward and
rested his book on my back. He was aware of my erection but he ignored
it. Making sure I understood that at the moment, I was simply an onject to
him. I wasn't there for sexual gratification, but gratification of another
sort. He left me alone with my thoughts racing back and forth between lust
and a zen sort of nothing.
	"What are you thinking about?" The question was so simple but when
I tried to articulate my answer he stopped me before ten words escaped my
lips. "You're missing the point. Just stop."
	It took me a minute or two of shame at failing the test of his
question before I realized he simply meant: don't think. I don't know what
happened. I simply let myself, my thoughts float away. I listened to the in
and out of his breathing. I felt the warmth of his foot, through the soft
cotton of his socks. The smell of his feet entered my nostrils and I did
nothing but try to become what he wanted me to be: an invisible piece of
furniture.  AT this moment in time, I was not my mind, my mouth, my hole. I
was not there for conversation or sex. I was something to be used one
moment for comfort and ignored the next for the same reason. I simply
existed in that moment however he wished me to exist.
	He stood up again and I felt the tea cup and book leave my back. I
resisted the urge to stretch and simply waited for him again. He was gone
for some time and I missed his overwhelming presence in the room. He came
back and I heard some soft moaning and grunting in the background. He came
around towards my rear end, and I wanted him to mount me from behind. I
begged with my mind to him. Please take me and use me and hurt me and
comfort me and hold me and hit me. Those words became my mantra and as I
repeated them in my head over and over, I felt something warm and sticky
hit my back.
	"Do not reach around and touch my semen. You will crawl back to
your clothes and put them on. You will want to get into the elevator and
put your hand in it and swallow it. Do not. Instead you will think about
the fact that you were naked in my home and I orgasmed and you had nothing
to do with it. You will think about how I made you disappear into a table
and you will get into bed tonight and cry. The reason you're crying is
because you still think your worth is your ass and mouth. Later on, when
you're thinking about this, you'll realize your worth to me is your
submission. I don't care about your cock and balls. I don't care about your
pussy. I care about you losing the illusion of your pride and dignity." I
crawled towards his door, not daring to look at anything but his floor. I
carved to be allowed to kiss his feet, but I couldn't. I dressed slowly,
trying not to drip any of his precious seed on the floor. He opened the
door for me and tipped my head again to look him in the eyes. He didn't
kiss me good night this time.
	"Your pride should come from serving me well. You should be proud
tonight. Tomorrow. Same time. Do not eat before you get here. And do not
jerk your cock tonight." He closed the door gently behind me and once
again, I put my hand flat on his door for a moment and I waited until my
heart beat returned to normal before I ventured down the hallway. I decided
to walk home that night, simply breathing in the cool air and thinking
about nothing other than him.