SubMascT

(Note: this is a completely fictitious blog entry. How could any of this be true?) It’s been a little over a year since my last report. I thought I might just delete this account. I thought I would delete it when I finally stopped . . . well, everything. I now understand that I can’t but more importantly I don’t want to. the training has continued. Here’s an example of a typical lesson. I was on my way to wok, determined to get there and not fuck around. But driving has always been a bit of a turn on. Love driving naked when I can. So driving is stimulating. I found myself opening my zipper as the trucks drove by on the highway. Hy hand passed over the damp mound of my cock in my tightly-whiteys. My finger slipped under the elastic and under my balls and brushed over my hole. I pulled my hand out as a car passed and sniffed the musty scent on my fingers. Not a shitty smell, but a musty man must smell. I also realized my ass was a little sore from the training the day before. I reasoned to myself that a quick DM chat with the boss would be fine. Not a problem. Here’s the transcript: Me: Gm. How’s it going? I’m on the way to work and just noticed that my ass is a bit sore from yesterdays workout. Him: Gm. Doing okay. That sounds like something to have your doctor look at. Are you taking the time to do that this morning? I have some time open for walk ins this morning. (For some reason that message made me a bit uncertain, almost dizzy) Me: I have some meetings today and can’t really mess around too much today. Him: I understand. You want to mess around but have a limited window. You should be taking the time to look after your anal health you know. I understand if you can’t stop by but I’m here if you decide to. That time I heard it with my entire brain . The trigger phrase “taking the time”, an old post hypnotic suggestion that is a command to stop holding down the part of me that wants to play. The imp inside that always always wants it and is never yet satisfied. Sometimes I regret sharing it with him. I messaged a few more times and said I really could not today. No response from him. “Fucker” I thought. As I got closer to my office (and His place) I got more and more nervous. Anxious. Thoughts racing. Yes. No. You don’t have to. No, you don’t, but you want to. I stopped the car. I got my bag of tricks out of the car. I walked up to the back door of his house, knocked, and walked in. “Hey Doc. You still have an opening for me?” He is sitting at the dining table with a scatter of tools and party favors all around him. He smiles and starts bantering about releases and HIPPA forms. “You did sign the multi-function total consent form the last time you were here, right?” I’m standing nervous and awkward in the doorway to the kitchen. “I honestly can’t remember.” ”Well, you did. Here, start with a big hit of this. You will feel better about yourself.” He hands me a mini-water bubbler with a globe full of sparking white rocks. I take it and the mini blow torch. Click. I watch the shards melt and the vapors start to rise and then I exhale and gently inhale for a full 40 seconds. He’s watching my face intently. “Hold it. Hold it.” I hold it for a good half minute. “Exhale.” I exhale, but only a pale whiff of a cloud. “You didn’t get any.” With the exhale I can feel the tension falling out of my body. I smile. “Yes I did, it’s just all in my lungs.” He says “Again.” I repeat the breathing treatment twice more but the third time, I only hold a second and spew giant ass white clouds out into the room. He is smiling. I’m feeling my nipple through my shirt. I realize I’m feeling my nipple through my shirt and just decide there is no reason to be wearing it. I put the equipment down and slip off my shirt. I am feeling calm cool collected and sexy as fuck. I rub my hands over my chest and then pick up the pipe and torch again. I offer it to Him and he laughs and declines. I light up again and take a big hit. The world is narrowing. I realize I would really love some cock, but don’t quite know how to ask. I offer him the tools again he refuses with a smile and I wonder what he put on the mouth of the pipe. ”Hey, did you dose me?” It’s possible I’m slurring but I’m not so sure. “Time for your exam. Drop your trousers and bend over.” He slides his chair around and waits expectantly. This is fun. I like this game. Unbuckle belt open fly and pull pants and briefs down to my ankles. I waddle forward and a big glop of precum slobbers out my pee hole. We both watch it drip in slow motion to the ground. I bend over and across his lap. He adjusts. My shoes are still on so my legs are tangled and awkward. I have no purchase and my hole is spread wide. The cool air in the room is making it pucker. I hear him spit. I hear him say “this might burn at first.” And something a little jagged is pushed into my butt. It feels like he used three or four fingers. I jump and squirm. “Hold still, just one more minute.” I can feel his cock underneath me growing. It is big. His finger/fingers stay inside me. He taps once, twice, three times on some secret button and I moan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”is all I can manage. And the world is suddenly exactly as it should be. “Do you have your poppers today? He asks. I nod and actually drool a little. I slide off his lap. He makes it hard to do. Knees, shoes, cocks, precum. I’m crawling on the floor to my bag. Ass is in the air. I retrieve my poppers and wait for what is next. to be continued ?

Hello. Don’t get confused. You haven’t met me yet, and you are joining this . . . story . . . already in progress. Everyone has an origin story, but this is not mine. Not yet. I’m in my 50s. I am married. I have a respectable, rather sensitive job. A lot of people rely on me. I’m told that I’m a “sexy mutherfuckah.” Judge for yourself. I’ve added a photo to this post. I’m a runner, keep my head shaved and have a 8” dick. Not that it gets used much. Boss is the name I gave to my fuck buddy who has been training me for years. What kind of training? Training that I have asked for and that I resist. It’s submission. It’s control. It’s giving in to the deep dark desires that I’ve been fighting against my whole life. He’s turning me bit by bit into a chem-pig slave whore. I am a very smart guy. That’s a blessing and my Achilles heel. My imagination is very powerful. As a consequence, when in the right mindset, my brain absorbs all suggestions. I’m “highly hypnotizable.” My Boss has convinced me of things that I didn’t think were true at first, and maybe never were. For instance, One late night he was trying to whore me out at a cruising area and I was spun up on T and something else, don’t know what. I also had not slept in two days. I started hallucinating crowds of people, the area seemed to be full of circus performers. Some were practicing for the show, some were cruising me, a few were menacing. When any of them were approached they vanished like vapors. I realized that they also made no sound. It could have been horrifying, but I found it fascinating. I told the Boss what was going on and he took it in stride. Maybe he expected it based on the chemicals he had overtly and covertly given me. We walked around some more in the dark. I think my clothes were back in his car, but I’m not sure. We passed a guy who seemed as weird as my “circus friends” but seemed real. I watched him as we passed. He watched me as we passed. The boss ignored him and claimed there was no one there. We made a full circuit of the place and eventually I was face down and ass up on a picnic table. The boss was working my ass. Back then he cocked my cunt and often put fingers in me. I could only take one or two back then. Then and now, he is constantly feeding my hole with T and other substances. I didn’t know it back then but he was also constantly dribbling chempiss into my gut. The fucking went on for a while. I was in heaven. Spun way up with heat radiating from my cunt muscles and begging for him to fuck me deeper. Eventually I felt my cock being played with and then sucked! This startled me and I told the Boss to let me up but he must not have heard. He kept railing my cunt. I looked through the boards of the picnic table and saw the weird guy from before. He sucked my cock while the boss fucked me. I was in a drug fueled stimulation-overdrive mindfuck/fuckfuck. I started to freak out because I didn’t know who this guy was or if he was even real. The Boss said no one was there and railed my ass until he filled me up with chempiss and cum, until he was done with my ass. The phantom sucked my cock nail it was past pleasure and into pain. I couldn’t stop any of it and the intersections of those experiences tripped a fuse in me. It fueled my dark lusts in a powerful way. My cock was raw and red and I had not cum (Mistress T is a demanding bitch) as the Boss untied me from the table. Wait, when did he tie me? The sun was coming up as he led me back to his car, his fluids running down my leg. The guy under the table was nowhere to be seen. He thought it was hilarious that I seemed convinced he had set the whole thing up. This happened a while ago and to this day he maintains that we were alone up there that night. I held both truths together for a long time but, to be honest I’m no longer sure. That was one very memorable lesson in my training. My intent is tell my tale here (remember, none of this is real). This isn’t a bodice ripper. Leave feedback or training suggestions. Eventually the Boss will read this too, I’m certain.