My downward spiral into a submissive bottom slut started late in life. I'm still very much in the closet and outwardly I appear as the perfect suburban husband, father, employee and neighbor. I love my wife and family but I recently found a new hobby that I crave with a passion; I can't get enough of my neighbor's big hard cock.
It all started innocently enough. I'm an economics professor at UC San Diego and my office is in one of the older buildings on campus.
She saw him sitting across the bar. He was alone, probably the only single guy in the bar, although the chances that he was actually single and not just looking for something extra-curricular seemed rather remote to her. Though not conventionally attractive, there was something about the dark eyes and the arch of his brows that attracted her attention, and would not let it go. In fact, she was so absorbed in the study of him that she was not aware her date had returned from the bathroom, or wherever he had been, until he spoke her name.
When you finally push back your chair and stand, approaching me, my fingers wiggle slightly to try to gain back some feeling. My relief when you unshackle me from the doorway is completely short-lived. You hand me your empty coffee cup, then brush past me with nothing more than a slap on the ass and a smirk. My face is hot with anger and disbelief as I wait for the numbness in my hands and feet to wear off, then hobble to refill your fucking coffee.
I wake up late and you have already left for the day. I knew you said you had to work but expected you to at least say good bye before you went. You had asked me months ago to reserve this specific weekend for you and to make sure that I had off Thursday thru Sunday off because you had plans for me.
I smiled when I saw the house.
The corner streetlight reflected on the metal numbers screwed to the front door. This was the place.
I slipped through the front gate and into the garden, walking quietly around the side of the house, carrying my bag. There was a back gate, locked, but reaching over I easily found the bolt and slid it open; stepping through I closed it behind me.
I pulled in the yard on time. Before I rang the door bell I took a deep breath and squeezed my thighs tight together, squeezing the dildo hidden tight into my wet shaven cunt. Then I took a deep breath and rang the door. It opened and there he stood. I smiled and he motioned me inside with a smile, immediately pressing me against the wall, pinning my arms over my head, staring into my eyes the entire time. I didn't look away, I didn't want to.
I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand.
All the things I am going to write about are true. The names have been changed because my Master told me to change them.
Several months ago, I met my Master in a chat room. It seemed he had the attention of the ladies in the room, so at first I didn't think he noticed me. While others threw themselves at him, I was more reserved. Soon he began talking about things I had some knowledge about and we started talking.
"Welcome to our home Michael. Please, please have a seat."
"Thank you Mrs. Stevens."
Michael sat on the beautiful suede sofa next to his girlfriend Jenny. He had been dating Jenny for exactly a month and she now insisted he meet her parents for the first time. Jenny Stevens could be considered an "old fashioned" gal. At 22 she was still a virgin and still very much living at home with her parents. She was a very pretty gal and quite friendly and intelligent.
The room is dark, floors are bare but for a square carpet in the middle.... it is this, most likely oriental. Your steps echo across the room.
You travel the walls, lighting fat candles as you go, and soon the room is bathed in a flickering light. Simple, but you don't need much to do your work.A knock at the door and a girl, short, tan skin, short dark hair and begging brown eyes is dragged in by her collar.