Date: Tue, 26 Jun 2012 22:52:46 -0500
From: Steve Street <rssmaster@cox.net>
Subject: The faint aroma of soap - Part 9

The next morning I hear the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen as I look
out through the den window. The dew on the grass glistens in the early
morning sun, my thoughts on this satisfying morning.  I woke up , refreshed
and relaxed, and hugged boy into my chest. I wanted him to know that I
enjoyed having his warm body next to me. Boy stretched and looked up, his
sleepy eyes betraying a kind of contentment. I pushed the blanket down with
my feet and released boy from my embrace. I can find no adequate words to
describe the feel of his lips and tongue on my cock, except that, for me,
there is no better way to start the day.  Boy followed me into the
bathroom. I instructed him to sit on the toilet and empty his bladder but
not to shit. When I finished brushing my teeth boy was kneeling. I showered
and, after boy had dried my back and legs, instructed him to prepare
breakfast while I dressed.

When I walked into the kitchen, boy was on his knees.  I instructed him to
sit, and we ate in silence. When he brought me my coffee, I looked at the
steaming cup and then at boy. He remained standing, but his head was
lowered - anticipating what I was going to say.

"Do you have something to say, boy?" I asked him.

"Yes, Master," he responded, his voice shaking.

"You may speak, boy," I told him.

"Master," his voice cracking, "Your slave will never, ever touch its cock
again without your permission, Master. My cock hurts so bad, Master, just
about all the time because it needs to be milked. Master, I wish I had not
touched my cock so you could milk it."

There was desperation in his voice. I could tell he wanted to say more, but
did not, and his face told me that he was hurting. I see that his turgid
cock strains against the confines of its plastic cage. Again, he referred
to himself as 'slave'.

"Continue to please me all the time as you did last evening and this
morning and I can take that cage off your beautiful cock before the end of
next week. Then, when I want your sweet cream, I will milk that
cock. Understand, boy?"

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."

While we sipped our coffee, I told boy that after he had cleaned up the
kitchen to go to the master bath, brush his teeth, shave his body and
shower, but that he was not to use the enema bag to clean his insides. When
he had his body smooth and squeaky clean, he was to go to the workout room,
pick up his shoes and socks and then wait for me in the bedroom.

I walk into the den and stand in front of the window looking out at the
grassy expanse of the back yard. I think about this morning's events, and
enjoy the view through the window. A cardinal, flitting between branches of
a tree, catches my eye. I want to hear and smell the outdoors.  I decide
that after our jog this morning, I will spend some time out in the backyard
soaking up the sun. And that brings to my mind Howie's coming visit next
week, and I imagine his dog-boy romping over the grass, sniffing the bushes
and trees, maybe barking at the birds, while Howie and I relax on the
veranda. I wonder how boy will act with another slave-boy in the house. Boy
has referred to himself as 'slave' very consistently in the last two days.
I want to think that means that he has accepted his subservience, that he
is mine. I cannot read his mind, but his actions indicate a real desire to
please me. I know I want his devotion to give him fulfillment. I have this
nagging concern about how Howie and I act with our boys while he is
here. Boy is mine and Howie's boy is his, and we need to respect that
relationship. I will fuck my boy and Howie will fuck his - no sharing. I
think in the next e-mail exchange with Howie, I will bring up how I relate
to his boy and he to mine.

I shake myself back to the here and now. I want to jog while the morning is
yet young. I walk into the bedroom. Boy is kneeling, his shoes and socks
next to his knees. I go to the dresser, pull out cutoffs and t-shirt for
myself and the same for boy from his drawer.

"Take off my pants, boy. I want to wear these cutoffs."

 I get satisfaction having boy undress and dress me - doing that emphasizes
his role.  Boy reaches up and unbuttons and unzips my pants, which fall to
my feet, and he kisses the bulge in my underwear. He puts my pants on the
bed and picks up the cutoffs and holds them at my feet. After I step into
the cutoffs, he pulls them up and zips and buttons the pants. I continue to
stand and let boy put the socks and shoes on my feet while I put on my
shirt. I wonder as boy dresses me whether Howie has his boy do this. Not
exactly what a dog would do, I thought to myself.

I walk over the dresser and take out the cutoffs and t-shirt, I want boy to
wear while we jog. I drop the clothes onto the floor next to his legs.

 "Put on the cutoffs and shirt, your socks and shoes then stand up." Boy
sits on his ass, pulls on the cutoffs and starts putting on his socks.

Boy is standing and dressed, and I motion for him to follow, and we walk
out of the house and begin our jog.  About an hour later we are both
sweating, having jogged and sprinted the nature trail, and walk back into
the house.  Without instruction, boy immediately begins taking off his
clothes.

"Socks and shoes to the workout room, boy," I tell him. "Go to the bedroom,
put your cutoffs in your drawer and then come to the kitchen."

I sit at the kitchen table rubbing my sweaty chest thinking about spending
the rest of the morning outside. I will listen to the birds chirping and
smell the morning air with boy laying next to me on the grass. My cock
begins to twitch in anticipation.

Boy walks in and starts to kneel in front of my chair."Keep standing, boy,"
I tell him."Fix us each a protein smoothie. Put in the raspberries, walnuts
and two bananas."

"Yes, Master," he responds and starts walking to the refrigerator.

I feel an erotic glow flow through me as I watch him taking the milk and
fruit out of the refrigerator. There is no boy on earth, I think to myself,
that is as beautiful and masculine as boy. The stripes on his muscular ass
cheeks from yesterday's caning, still visible but considerably faded,
emphasize his vulnerable beauty. In less than ten minutes boy has the
smoothies prepared and brings the two glasses, filled to the brim, over to
the table and puts them down.

"Sit, boy," I instruct him. "Enjoy the smoothie."

I take a sip of the nutritious and soothing mixture, and I smile as boy
gulps down half his glass then licks his lips in satisfaction. I finish
drinking the smoothie and tell boy to clean up the kitchen. I watch him
work, admiring the way his body tapers from his upper chest to his narrow
waist. There are no fatty bulges or rings but a hint of muscularity. Soon
enough boy finishes cleaning up and walks over to where I sit and starts to
kneel.

"To the master bath, boy," I tell him before he can kneel. "Let's get the
sweat showered off our bodies."

I follow boy down the hall, into the bedroom and into the bathroom.

"Sit, boy," I tell him, pointing to the toilet. "I want you to piss and if
you can, empty your bowels."

"Yes, Master," he responds as he sits on the toilet. I walk into the
bedroom and undress throwing my cut-offs and shirt on the bed. I walk back
into the bathroom. Boy is sitting on the toilet, his head down, and in a
few minutes slides off the toilet, the plastic cock cage clanking against
the rim of the toilet, and kneels.  I look into the toilet. A thick light
brown turd floats in the yellow water, and I flush the toilet. I pick up
the enema bag, fill it with warm water and hang it on the shower head.

"Stand up, boy," I tell him. "Get under the shower head, but before you
shower I want you to clean your insides."

"Yes, Master," boy responds as he walks into the shower area. He picks up
the end of the tube hanging from the enema bag and slowly pushes the
plastic tip up into his ass. When the tip is fully in, he releases the
valve. I watch his abdomen swell as the water fills his bowels. He turns
the valve, shutting off the flow of water, removes the tube from his ass,
and steps over to the shower drain.

"Turn around, boy," I tell him. "Your ass facing me."

Boy turns around, bends his knees so his ass is over the drain and the
water, slightly brown, streams out of his ass into the drain.

"Again, boy," I tell him. "And this time, hold the liquid in for a minute
or so before releasing it."

"Yes, Master," boy responds as he picks up the enema tube and reinserts it
up his ass and fills his colon. He then stands over the drain, and I see
his ass muscles flex as he struggles to keep any of the water from leaking
out of his ass. In about a minute, he bends his knees over the drain and
the liquid, now clear, flows out of his ass.

"One more time, boy," I tell him, "and then shower with soap but make it
quick."

After boy has finished the third cleansing and is showering I sit on the
toilet and relieve my own bladder and have a satisfying bowel movement and
flush the toilet. After boy has towel-dried his body and is kneeling, I
walk into the shower. I want all the sweaty smell off my body, so I take
the time to lather my body from my head to toes. After I rinse all the soap
away, I take the towel draped over boy's arms and dry my upper body, turn
around, and boy dries my back and ass. He massages my balls with his
fingers through the towel and then dries my legs. I step over to the
toilet, lower the seat, and sit down.

"Stand up, boy," I tell him as I point to the floor in front of my feet,
"your ass facing me and your hands on your ankles."

When he has assumed the position, I spread his ass cheeks with my hands. I
blow my breath into the moist ass crack and watch his rose bud wink
seductively. I pick up the bottle of lubricant from the counter and squeeze
a goodly amount of the thick liquid at the top of his ass crack. Using my
fingers, I spread the lubricant around his rose bud and then insert one
finger into the rose bud and press it against his prostate. Boy sighs as I
massage the lubricant into his ass with my finger.

"Stand up and turn around and kneel, boy," I tell him as I give his ass a
gentle slap.

Boy turns around and kneels. His eyes focused on my cock. "Tell me, boy,
what you worship every day?" I ask him.

"Master, your slave worships your cock, Master."

Again, he refers to himself as 'slave' which, to say the least, impresses
me."Show me your devotion to my cock, boy," I tell him, keeping my voice
low.

Saying nothing, boy leans forward and kisses the length of my cock and
licks the underside. He continues to kiss and lick my now hard cock until I
put my hands on his cheeks and raise his head. His eyes communicate
longing. I lean over and press my lips to his, and he sucks my tongue into
his mouth. I let the kiss continue for a few seconds and sit back up.

"We are going to enjoy soaking up some sun before lunch, boy," I tell
him. "Get up and go to the back porch veranda. I will be there in a few
minutes."

I follow boy out of the bathroom, and as he walks out of the bedroom, I sit
on the edge of the bed and put on the cut-offs without putting on my
underwear. When I walk out onto the veranda boy is kneeling, head down,
next to one of the chaise lounges. I continue to walk to the middle of the
yard. I close my eyes while filling my lungs with the fresh air. I take
another deep breath and focus my mind on the sounds and smells around me. I
will be taking my pleasure with boy in a few minutes, and I want more than
satisfying sex. I want to be aware of nature while I fuck boy. Keeping my
eyes closed, I continue to meditate for several minutes. I open my eyes and
walk back to the veranda.

"Stand up, boy," I instruct him. "Pick up the futon over in the corner
there" I said pointing to the far corner of the veranda, "and bring it out
onto the lawn."  I purchased the futon several weeks ago to make lounging
on the grass more comfortable. The futon folds in half for storage and when
unfolded is about the same dimensions as my bed. Boy walks over to the
corner, picks up the futon in both arms, and walks out onto the lawn. I
point to the middle of the yard and tell him "Put the futon down there and
unfold it."

Boy unfolds the futon. "Kneel on the futon, boy," I tell him. Boy kneels,
keeping his head down and his hands on his ankles. I step onto the futon so
my bare feet are inches away from his spread knees. "Look up, boy," I tell
him tenderly. Boy looks up, and I see a combination of longing and
curiosity in his eyes. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly," I tell
him keeping my voice soft. I want to guide him not instruct him. " Boy
breaths in deeply and slowly exhales.

 "Again," I say. Boy takes another deep breath.

"Close your eyes and keep taking deep breaths," I tell him, and as he
exhales. He closes his eyes as he takes in a deep breath and slowly
exhales. He continues to breathe deeply, and I, too, am breathing deeply
with him.

"Now, boy," I say very softly, "as you breath, tune your senses to the
sounds around you. The sounds of the birds and the breeze." I see his
shoulder muscles relax as he releases the tension with each breath. We
continue breathing together for several minutes.

"Close your eyes," I say as he exhales. Boy closes his eyes." With each
breath let your thoughts go to how you feel right now," I pace my breathing
to his and after several breaths, I continue to guide him.

 "Go deeper, with each breath. You begin to feel the warm glow of desire
with each breath." I say this slowly and softly. "You yearn to feel
complete, to taste and feel my cock." Boy continues to breathe slowly; his
eyes closed and his lips quivering.

"With each breath you take you go deeper and feel the longing to be filled
and complete. You want to be one with nature. You want my cock deep inside
your being to fill the aching emptiness you feel."  I remain silent a few
moments, letting boy absorb his need.

"I am going to count down from five," I say softly, "your need for
fulfillment will increase with each count. When I say 'one' you will open
your eyes and see the object of your deepest desire."

I step between boy's knees and let my cut-offs drop to my feet.

"Five"

"Four"

"Three"

"Two"

"One" When I say this, boy's eyes open, and he moves his head forward
engulfing my cock into his mouth in one smooth movement, and I hear him
swallow and feel my cock slip effortlessly into his throat. He breaths
through his nose, his eyes closed, as he sucks my cock and swallows. I
sense that my cock belongs in boy's throat as if it were part of his
anatomy. I enjoy the bliss washing through me from his seemingly effortless
sucking for several minutes.

I put my hands on his cheeks and gently remove my cock from the warm
confine of his throat and mouth. Boy looks up, and I see a combination of
disappointment and longing in his eyes. I get on my knees, put my arm under
his thighs and guide him off his knees until his laying on his side. I lay
next to him with one arm under his leg. I position my cock until it touches
his rosebud. I press my cock through the sphincter muscle, and as it's full
length glides into him. I hear boy sigh. I fuck boy with slow and
deliberate strokes for several minutes until I feel the edge of orgasm and
then pause. I take a deep breath, concentrating on the sounds around me and
feel the warm rays of the sun on my back. I continue fucking, pausing when
I edge close to orgasm. I have lost track of time in my enjoyment. I know
that I have paused more than six times while fucking him when I realize
that I will not be able to restrain the orgasm any longer. I pause, again,
and see that boy's cock is leaking cream through the confines of its
cage. I whisper in boy's ear.

 "You may cum, boy."

I resume fucking with intensity this time. Boy moans with each stroke of my
cock, and I feel boy's body tense as I reach that moment of orgasmic
ecstasy.  Boy moans as my cock releases my cream deep into his ass. I am
lost in rapturous delight for several minutes as my cock slowly deflates. I
let my cock leave boy's ass, put my arm around boy's neck, pulling him into
my chest, and give him a deep, heart-felt kiss. Boy reciprocates, sucking
my tongue, and I think he, too, enjoyed the fucking.

"I had an awesome, stupendous fuck, boy," I tell him. "You have pleased me
beyond any words I can tell you."

"Master," boy half whispers. I know he wants to say something but is afraid
to speak.

"What is it, boy?" I ask.

"Master," his voice trembling, "your slave's cock hurts so good."

I say nothing. I give him a hug, and he nestles his head on my chest.  I
feel the orgasmic tension slowly fade from my body as I enjoy the warm sun
on my skin for several more minutes. I feel the pangs of hunger, and I
realize that it is now early afternoon. I give boy a gentle nudge.

"Clean my cock, boy," I tell him.

Boy moves his head down my chest and abdomen and puts my cock in his
mouth. I let him bathe my cock in his warm saliva until hunger gets the
best of the pleasure I am having. "I'm hungry, boy," I tell him. "Go into
the kitchen and fix us something to eat. Open the can of baked beans, don't
heat it, we'll eat it cold. Put some cottage cheese on each plate and some
fruit. I will be there in a few minutes."

"Yes, Master," boy responds as he gets to his feet. I stay laying on the
futon and admire his handsome, freshly fucked ass as he walks towards the
kitchen. I look to my side and see a pool of milky cream on the futon.  I
know that boy must have had an orgasmic ejaculation. No wonder, I thought
to myself, that his cock hurt 'so good" as he put it.

After enjoying a few more minutes in the sun, I pick up my cutoffs, walk
into the house, and into the bedroom. I throw the cutoffs onto the bed and
put on underwear, khakis and a shirt. When I walk into the kitchen, boy, as
expected, is kneeling and the table is set. I tell boy to sit and we eat in
silence. The glow from the awesome sex this morning stays with me. Boy has
a contented smile on his face, and I want to think he has similar
feelings. After I finish the meal, I tell boy to drink a glass of water,
clean the kitchen, go to the bedroom and put away the clothes on the bed
and then clean the futon and put it back in the corner of the veranda. When
he has completed those tasks to come into the den.

I am absorbed with the e-mail from my firm when boy walks into the den and
kneels next to my chair. He has his head bowed and cannot see the smile on
my face. I pick up the I-pod and tell boy to turn around and lean his back
against the chair. When his legs are in front of him, I hand him the I-pod
and, within moments, he is engrossed in one of his favorite games.

I spend the next two hours responding to the business e-mail. I know I will
have to be in the office tomorrow and, given the press of business, I
probably will be there all day and not get home until late in the
afternoon. I decide to prepare a printed list of tasks that boy can do to
keep him productively occupied while I am out of the house. As I start the
list, I realize that there are many housekeeping tasks I have wanted done
for quite some time. It takes me almost forty-five minutes to winnow the
tasks down to a reasonable number. At the bottom of the to-do list, I add:

  "Remember, you can relieve your bladder when needed. However, you cannot
have a bowel movement until I return. And do not flush the toilet after you
piss."

I prepare the workout routine we will do tomorrow and send it to the
printer along with the to-do list. Now I want to e-mail Howie

"Howie,

I eagerly look forward to you and your boy spending next week-end in my
home. I know we will have productive and fun time. We can candidly explore
and even demonstrate any aspect of our unique relationship with our boy. As
we share with each other how, when and where we fuck our boy, or how and
when we discipline our boy, we will not only have fun but each of us will
gain an insight that we did not have before.

The master/slave relationship fascinates me. For myself, I am proud that I
'own' boy. I use the term 'own' advisedly, but every aspect of boy's life
is under my sole control. When I take boy with me shopping or whatever, and
I notice someone, male or female, eyeing him with appreciation and even
lust, I get an inner glow of satisfaction. Others can appreciate or lust
for his qualities, but I am the only one that can take pleasure from those
qualities.

Enough of that. We can go into more detail when you are here.

Your friend and fellow Master,

 Jake"

I push the send button and lean back in my chair. I look at the time. The
afternoon has sped by, and it is almost 6:00PM. I don't feel all that
hungry, but I decide to eat now and spend the rest of the evening reading
with boy between my knees. I power off the computer and put my hand on
boy's shoulder.

 "Give me the I-pod, boy," I tell him. "It's time to eat." Boy, with
reluctance, turns off the I-Pod and puts it in my hand.

"Get up, boy," I say trying to keep my voice gentle. "Go to the master bath
and relieve your bladder, and if you need to, have a bowel movement. And do
not flush the toilet."

Yes, Master," boy responds as he gets to his feet. I watch his ass as he
walks out of the den, and my thoughts drift to next weekend. I realize that
I, too, have to piss. I walk down the hall to the bathroom. When I walk
into the bathroom boy has evidently just finished pissing and when he sees
me scoots off the toilet, the plastic cage on his cock scraping the rim of
the toilet, and gets to his knees. I step behind him and look into the
toilet. The water has a healthy yellow color and no turd. I did not expect
that he had a need to shit. I take out my cock, piss and flush the toilet.

"Stand up, boy," I tell him, again trying to make what I say more of an
instruction and not an order, "Go to the kitchen." I put my cock back in my
pants and zip up as I say this. I follow boy into the kitchen, and he turns
around to kneel. Before he can kneel I tell him what to fix for dinner,
including dessert and freshly brewed coffee.

"Yes, Master," boy responds and walks over to the refrigerator to get what
was needed for dinner. I walk into the den, pick up the Kindle Reader,
return to the kitchen. Boy hesitates when he sees me walk back in, I guess
wondering whether or not he should kneel.

 "Keep at it, boy," I tell him, "Just fix the dinner."

Boy returns to his task, and as I watch his lithe body, I think about my
message to Howie. I do feel satisfied and proud that boy is mine. I wonder,
as I watch boy, whether Howie has his boy prepare his meals. Not a task I
would expect a dog to do. Maybe, Howie has his boy be a dog on a part-time,
on a demand basis. I turn on the Kindle, click on the novel I have been
reading, and start reading where I left off yesterday. When I see boy put
the plates on the table, I turn off the Kindle. Boy starts to kneel, but I
tell him to sit and enjoy the meal.

We eat in silence, boy with some gusto. Unlike me, he must have been
hungry. He has the same look of contentment on his face he had when we ate
lunch, and I realize that I still feel remnants of the warm glow of
satiation resulting from the fucking I gave boy this morning. When I
finished eating the main meal, I instructed boy to get the dessert and pour
each of us a cup of coffee.

After boy puts the dessert plates on the table and places the coffee cups
on the table, he stands at my side and does not kneel. I look at my
steaming coffee and then at him. His lips are quivering, and I look at his
caged cock. The cock is semi-turgid, pressing against its plastic cage. I
notice dried specs of his cum on the plastic, some slightly yellow where
urine had splashed while he pissed a little while ago.

"You have something to say, boy?" I ask him.

"Yes, Master," he responds, his voice shaking.

"You may speak, boy," I tell him.

"Master, your slave wishes that he had never touched his cock. Your slave
will never again touch his cock without your permission, Master." His voice
quivering as if he were about to cry. "Your slave wishes that Master could
milk his cock for the cream you want in your coffee."

I am impressed with the combination of devotion to my wants and his own
desperate need for release.

"Boy, you have pleased me beyond measure today," I tell him. "The fucking I
gave you this morning was stupendous and a mark of your devotion to
satisfying me. Keep up that devotion and I will take the cage off your cock
on Monday. Then, when I desire to, I will milk your cock."

"Thank you, Master," boy responded as he lowered his chin onto his chest.

"Sit down, boy," I tell him gently. "Eat the dessert and enjoy the coffee."

When I finished the dessert, I told boy to remain sitting and finish his
coffee, clean-up the kitchen and then go to the den. I pour myself another
cup of coffee, pick up the Kindle reader and walk back into the den.  I get
the I-pod from my desk and walk over to my reading chair. Making myself
comfortable, I resume reading the novel. After a while, I looked up and boy
was in front of me on his knees and his head down. Again, he came into the
room without me hearing him.

"Go over to my desk, boy," I instruct him, "get the I-pod and come back
here."

"Yes, Master," boy responds as he gets up. When he returns he starts to
kneel, but I tell him to get comfortable with his back against the seat of
my chair and play his games. After he has sat down, I put my legs under his
arms and cross them over his chest. I sit back, and start reading
again. When I finish the novel, I look at the clock - not quite 10:30PM. I
uncross my legs and reach over boy's shoulder.

"Give me the I-pod, boy," I tell him. "It's time we went to bed." Without
saying anything, boy hands me the I-pod. I stand up and boy starts to
kneel.

"Go on into the bedroom, boy," I tell him. "I will be right behind you." As
boy walks out of the den, I follow him turning off all the lights as I walk
down the hallway. When we are in the bedroom boy turns around and kneels. I
pull off my shirt and let it drop to the floor.

"Take off my pants and underwear, boy," I tell him. "And then put my
clothes on the horse next to the dresser."

"Yes, Master," boy says as he unbuckles my belt and pulls down the
zipper. My pants fall to my feet, and boy kisses my cock through my jock
underwear. He guides my underwear down until my cock is exposed and then
kisses and licks the cock head before letting the underwear drop to the
floor. He picks up my clothes, then stands up and walks the few steps to
the clothes horse. After he has put the clothes on the horse, I tell him to
follow me into the bathroom.

I walk into the bathroom and start pissing into the toilet as boy kneels
behind me. When my bladder is empty, I tell boy to sit on the toilet to
piss, and if he needs to, to shit. I start brushing my teeth, listening to
the splash of his piss. The splashing stops and I realize he must be having
a bowel movement. When I finish brushing my teeth, boy is kneeling behind
me. I look into the toilet. There is one relatively small turd curled on
the bottom of the toilet, which satisfies me. I flush the toilet and tell
boy to get to his feet, clean his ass with the washrag using plenty of soap
and water, brush his teeth, and to turn out the bathroom and bedroom lights
when he is through.

I walk into the bedroom, turn on the table lamp.  I am laying on my back as
boy clicks off the bathroom light and walks into the bedroom and turns off
the bedroom lights. As he walks over to the bed, I tell him to crawl onto
the bed between my legs.

"I want you to suck my cock for a few minutes, boy," I tell him.

As boy crawls onto the bed, I turn out the table lamp. The wondrous
sensation of my cock being slowly swallowed into boy's throat flows through
my body. I enjoy the sucking for several minutes, then put my hand under
his arms and pull him up until he is laying at my side, his back to my
chest. I curl my body around him, pressing my half-hard cock into his ass
crack.