“What kind of talk is that? How can you say in one breath you feel a deep seated urge to serve real men, then in another you say you can’t handle their cocks? You want to serve us, you gotta change your attitude! Get over here.” I haul him to the bed and get a firm grip on the scruff of his neck. “Take my pants off.”
He did, but he blanched at the size of my cock.
“You are going to take this to the base,” I told him.
“I…I…wow, that’s such a huge cock, but I can’t!”
“You can and you will. You should be grateful I’m spending so much time on you, there are hundreds of fags out there that would be grateful for this cock. Now suck!”
He doesn’t dare disobey me. He can barely get a third of my cock in his mouth, but over the next hour as I get harder and harder we loosen his gag reflex into there’s just an inch left. I pull out and he sputters, coughing, rubbing his jaw.
“You suck cock well boy, not a complaint out of you. Now go bring us some water, then you’re gonna take me to the balls.”
“But…” he pauses, catching himself. He looks at my cock, seeing how far he’s made it, senses he’s never again going to be this close to having his fantasies come true. “Yes Sir, I’ll make the last inch Sir.”
“That’s right. Now, water! And ice in mine, not yours. Don’t want your mouth too cold.”