Breaking a guy in is hard work. Even when they desire it--when they know they need it--it’s indeed greater amount of a tender art than a science. You have to study the guy, feel his body, feel his will, discover where he’s his strongest… and where he’s his majority vulnerable.
When I discovered little Austin, this guy 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 diminutive and frail. And in my experience, that is what many of my clients discover the majority nice.
For Austin, breaking him wasn’t just a matter of showing him my authority. It was clear that guy 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 that 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 this guy was his own person. His own guy. That this chab needed to be powerful and independent. Responsible for his future and that path this guy would walk. I could watch it in his eyes as in a short time as that guy looked back up at me. He was lost, embarrassed, and hopeless for a place in this world. He didn’t crave this responsibility. He didn’t desire to have that burden.
I had to free him from this notion. Free him from his true cage: autonomy.
Austin 1st needed to be nude 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 cheerful that this guy didn’t have to be the one to give a decision.
I ran my hands over his body, feeling him, assessing him. He trembled a precious deal. Something to fix in advance of that guy 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 raiment, I knew I had to test him to watch how that guy would respond to my authority. I crammed his nipps, feeling em grow firmer and greater quantity 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 that guy squealed and groaned, I persisted, discovering that upper restriction.
I won’t lie. I felt my schlong 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 nice-looking guy 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 teats were his to shield. Even as I reached my hands down into his panties and grabbed his chap schlong, 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 admirable tap, hearing him squeal throughout the pang. He stayed in place. A fine sign. I placed a hand over his face hole, silencing him… an action that made my penis even harder.
But it wasn’t until I had him bare and on all fours, his a-hole up in the air, red from my hand, that I could feel him starting to give up the control. His taut, smooth gap was absolutely 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 pliant, this guy began to melt in my hands. His rod became fully upright, pulsing in my clutch as I reached for it. I knew I had to open him up, stretch his virgin aperture, 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...

Format: mp4
Duration: 36:11
Video: 1280x720, AVC (H.264), 5817kbps
Audio: 128kbps

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