Description: And, yes, I hear each of you saying, “Bitch! You knew exactly what you were getting your twink ass into! Shut up and take the cock that feeds you.” Obviously, I will. I must do what my master commands of me, but, honestly, and just between you and me, I did not know what I was getting into. When the mysterious man who initially approached me and spoke of rich, well-connected, sexy men owning and taking care of street boys like me with the possibility of living in a house larger than any I had ever dreamed of, well, his words were too enticing to pass up. I willingly came to The Collective and it was my decision to sign the agreement - without reading the fine print. The transition and training weren’t easy, and they are far from over. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. In fact, I am learning more about myself through my training. I do enjoy being of service to men. Sometimes, the situations are so fucking hot, you would think my life is some kind of gay porn. I mean, I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I shot my load, hands free, in this little black jockstrap when I was the party favor for a group of Master Scott’s friends. Knowing my sole purpose of being in the same room with them was to be bent over and used, however and for as long as they saw fit. It was like ... like the 4th of July! I was not leaving the damn BBQ without seeing fireworks and getting every hot dog inside me. What I am having a hard time coming to terms with is this feeling of being a return. Did Master Scott have to keep his receipt? And if he didn’t have it, what would be the equivalent to store credit, when you are talking about recently de-virginized twink? Three days ago, Master Scott was carrying me around his villa, bouncing me up and down his hairy daddy cock while it was lodged inside of me all day - seriously, he didn’t pull out once for nearly six hours! The next day, he lent my hole to Master Ballard for use and then yesterday, I was back on the block. Yeah, I know. I hear you, again, “Twinkslut! Your masters are teaching you about self-worth. You’ve got none! Shut up and take the cock that feeds you.” I know you are right. The most important lesson from training was, your master is your priority – your only priority. He decides when you sleep, eat, workout and when and by who you get bred. This was true with Master Scott, although there were moments, usually right before he unleashed his master swimmers in me, that he stopped seeing me as property and more of a person. Thinking about that, THAT is probably exactly why I was put back up for auction. However, as I kneel outside of Master Ballard’s playroom waiting for him to summon me, I have a strong feeling that things will be different with him. When the door opens, I crawl in and take my place at his feet. With each of master’s commands, I remove his clothing and take him into my mouth, gently sucking him until his cock was hard as steel and angry looking. I have been fucked by Master Ballard a few times, but that doesn’t stop my legs from trembling when he tells me to climb onto the bed. Master is HUGE and I have no clue how this twat opens wide enough to accommodate that girth. I crawl to the center of the bed and position myself on my hands and knees. The velvet is soft and a nice change from the hard cold floor. I know the black leg straps frame and lift my ass and when I arch my back, my lightly hairy boycunt is center stage. That is when I close my eyes and prepare myself. But for what? That's unknown. I feel something hot against my pucker and for a split-second think he is about to push that massive fucker into me dry. Luckily, it was the master's mouth. His slick tongue starts feasting on my asshole like an all-you-can-eat buffet. I feel my master's moans before I hear them. He announces, “this is my ass now” directly into the spit-covered hole, sending the vibrations through me directly to my brain. I shiver and know I am covered in goosebumps. Master stands and pulls me back towards him. His groin presses against me and then smacks his heavy cock on the hole he prepared. He strokes his lubed cock up and down my crack then finds his target and opens me. Once he is fully inside of me, I feel his hairy balls twitch against my taint. My hole filled beyond capacity feels fucking awesome! Like my hole and my cock were going to explode at any second. Master continues to stretch me. Train me. Fuck me for hours. He uses my jock waistband as reins while he navigates the terrain of my insides. His calloused hands vice grip my waist pulling me back and forth on his cock. When he’s ready to bust, he pulls out and shoots his master load all over my ass, marking me as his. When I turn around, he’s gone. I pick up the towel he wiped his spent dick on and begin to wipe myself dry, but my tight little pucker felt odd. I was dripping cum. Absolutely flooded. Swollen, almost spongy, and no matter how hard I tried to tighten myself, I couldn’t close it. Master Ballard had turned my hole into a boycunt. I was right. Master Ballard is different. No blurred lines. No confusing emotions. Pure. Master. Sex. Primal. Actually, I feel honored to be owned by him. I can’t wait to see how far outside my comfort zone he pushes me or how big he makes my boypussy. I fold our cum towel up and tuck it under my pillow. Something inside of me told me this was the proper thing to do.
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