Breaking a chap in is hard work. Even when they desire it--when they know they need it--it’s indeed greater quantity of a tender art than a science. You have to study the chap, feel his body, feel his will, discover where he’s his strongest… and where he’s his almost all vulnerable.

When I discovered little Austin, this chab was alone and cold on the street. He appeared frail, likewise petite and thin to be a fellow full grown. It wasn’t until I thoroughly assessed him that I discovered that this was just his natural way. He would always appear to be petite and frail. And in my experience, that is what many of my clients discover the almost any nice.

For Austin, breaking him wasn’t just a matter of showing him my authority. It was clear this chab would listen to me and do what I said him. But when I touched him, that guy had a pont of time of hesitation. A doubt. A feeling in his mind that this guy was supposed to protect himself. Protect smth he’d been said was his. This was part of the correction process. Part of the hard work ahead.

All his life, he’d been said that guy was his own person. His own fellow. That this guy needed to be meaty and independent. Responsible for his future and that path this chab would walk. I could watch it in his eyes as in a short time as this guy looked back up at me. He was lost, embarrassed, and despairing for a place in this world. He didn’t crave this responsibility. He didn’t crave to have that burden.

I had to free him from this notion. Free him from his true cage: autonomy.

Austin 1st needed to be undressed of himself. His identity. His history and expectations. I brought him into the staging area, a black, secluded room where I could assist him undergo this essential transformation. He was nervous and shaking, as any lamb would be when brought to an altar of sacrifice. But throughout the fear in his eyes, I could watch his heart bursting with hope. He didn’t know what was coming, but unfathomable down, I knew he’d be glad that this chab didn’t have to be the one to resolve.

I ran my hands over his body, feeling him, assessing him. He trembled a worthwhile deal. Something to fix previous to this chab heads to auction. I placed him down on all fours, splayed out, still weak from the street, barely able to keep up his insubstantial weight. I tried to calm him, running my hands over his head and face, petting him like a stray puppy. I was amused by how my palm appeared to be bigger than his whole head. It sexually excited me, and I knew it would kindle my clients.

Pulling off his garments, I knew I had to test him to watch how this guy would respond to my authority. I crammed his teats, feeling em grow firmer and greater amount sensitive as I twisted and squeezed em. I had to assess his restrictions if I was going to receive a fair price for him, so even as this chab squealed and groaned, I persisted, discovering that upper limitation.

I won’t lie. I felt my shlong grow harder as I felt his neck in my hands, seeing him suppress his fear to proceed to yield to me. I knew my purpose in that pont of time wasn’t to gain gratification, but this marvelous chap inspired it in me. Seeing him, feeling him in the grasp of my hand… I wanted to possess him and own him.

But this guy wasn’t willing yet. He still was clinging to the idea that his body was his. That his nipps were his to shield. Even as I reached my hands down into his panties and grabbed his chap weenie, I felt that flinch of resistance. He was as hard as I was, but not yet a possession.

I pulled down his panties, freeing him from the clothing of his past, the final threads of his individuality. I gave his nuts a fine tap, hearing him squeal throughout the pang. He stayed in place. A fine sign. I placed a hand over his throat, silencing him… an action that made my dong even harder.

But it wasn’t until I had him in natures garb and on all fours, his ass up in the air, red from my hand, that I could feel him starting to give up the control. His constricted, smooth aperture was totally vulnerable to me, taking to my oiled fingers with increasing ease and acceptance. I was impressed with how much it could take, and I was of course not gentle.

I oiled his body, seeing the red marks deepen as rushed to where I’d been. Slick and unrepining, this guy began to melt in my hands. His shlong became fully upright, pulsing in my grasp as I reached for it. I knew I had to open him up, stretch his virgin gap, and watch the look in his eye as the last bit of himself slipped away. The self that would become my property, my object… my merchandise...

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Duration: 36:11
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