Date: Wed, 18 Jan 2023 23:26:54 +0000 (UTC) From: Ash Eater Subject: Perfect Muscle God chapter 10 Remember to show your appreciation to nifty by donating https://donate.nifty.org/. It had been two weeks since the slave had last been in the presence of MuscleGod, two hard weeks, of forced separation as the slave's work had taken priority, it pained it to admit but there were time it hadn't even thought about MuscleGod at all, but the previous night it had be summoned to serve. Since the summons Thoughts about MuscleGod filled its head and by the time it stepped on the tube train it was if nothing else now mattered, only its Master. The slave closed its eyes and smiled as thoughts of his Master ran through its brain, although there were another forty minutes to go before it would be in MuscleGod's presence, his senses now began to behave as if he were already there grovelling to the floor in total submission as MuscleGod towered over it. The noise of the tube carriage, the smells even the feel of the chair were now replaced by the sight, smell, taste touch and sound of MuscleGod a Visions of MuscleGod flickered through his now open eyes like a film. Just a brief glimpse of him was enough to weaken the slave's will but strengthen his submission. MuscleGod's handsomeness, the way that his face could change from benevolence, to arrogance, with just a tiny twitch of the mouth. His physique the way that each muscle was perfect, a testament to the hard work that MuscleGod had put into to creating a body that others desired. The slave closed its eyes briefly and, and visualised MuscleGod standing there transitioning from pose to pose a cigar in his mouth, the ask growing slowly as time went on. The look of arrogance and triumph in MuscleGod's face burned into its brain. The slave opened its eyes as the tube train jumped slightly, his concentration barely disturbed as the vision changed from an all powerful naked MuscleGod to a Leatheman, head to toe in the darkest of cowhide appeared. The slave saw itself bend down and begin worshipping the boots As above it MuscleGod looked down his face a half sneer, half smile. Looking up the slave saw a riding crop being removed from MuscleGod's right boot. The vision soon returned to a naked MuscleGod, and the slave saw his face pressed into his Master arm pit, as memories of his Master's scent filled his nostrils. The usual noxious smell of the tube had been replaced by something else. The scent of his Master, the musky testosterone that seeped from every pore. A scent that would reduced the slave to the level of a grunting beast. As it imagined being pushed deeper into MuscleGod's arm pit being commands to inhale deeper, the slave let out a sigh. He opened his eyes again and hoped the man opposite hadn't heard his "Muscle God you control me" mantra. Other scents now wafted through, the fresh sweat as Muscle God excised in the gym, seemingly increasing his size as the slave watched, to the two day sweat on MuscleGod's jock and socks. A scent that not only captivated the slave but also numerous other gym goers. The smell of its Masters groin as its nose was pushed down as MuscleGod fucked its throat. The scent that he left on those who submitted. Occasionally slave who be ordered to serve those who had served and submitted to MuscleGod, each one of them now smelt like MuscleGod drenched in his sweat, scent and power. Again the image changed to one where MuscleGod was a LeatherMaster. The slave coughed as he envisaged his Master blow a cloud of cigar smoke into his face before pushing the slave down and forcing its head into his leather covered groin. Down there the slave inhaled deeply, before being ordered to turn round ready to be suffocated by Master';s leather gauntlets a mix of cow hide, cigar smoke and MuscleGod's cum filled the slaves nostrils. As the train screeched the slave thought he heard his Master's voice "Good lad" His Master's voice was hypnotic, sometimes gentle, sometime stn but always full of authority. Serving MuscleGod involved listening. Listening as MuscleGod shouted out his transitions as he posed in the mirror. Listening to the sound of his own voice as he recited his mantras sung in his Master's glory, listening to the praise from his other slaves, the sound of pleasure and pain as those slaves surrendered to MuscleGod's power as he fucked them, the sound of MuscleGod's relief as he emptied his hard dick down the slave's throat, the sound of the creak of the sling as the slave was fucked. Noises that brought joy and pleasure. MuscleGod's leather creaked as he moved, his boots echoed with each step. These noises filled the slaves ears, to the extent that he failed to hear the tube driver announce an apology for a delay. Instead all the slave could hear was the whack of a riding crop as it hit his butt when worshipping his all powerful owners boots. Touching his Master was a key part of the slaves devotion. The heavy leather collar that MuscleGod would lock around its neck. Kneeling there, head bowed in submission as the powerful body towered over him flexing his Muscle. MuscleGod liked to taunt the slave knowing it was desperate to touch. It watched the slave as the tension built upside as if it was going to burst into tears unless it was able to feel his Master. Once permission was granted the slave would gently caress his Master giving each muscle the attention it deserved, accepting the power they had over it. Its fingers would trace each vein, his Master's vascularity would never cease to amaze it. Oiling up the skin, letting the muscle glisten under the studio lights, at each transition. The feeling of helplessness as Musclegod caught the slave in the crook of his arm as it worshipped it biceps. The desperation the slave had to touch his Master as it stood above him in full leather. His well shined boots, the blackest of hide, the peaked Muir cap all but obscuring his eye. The feeling that ran through the slave as its tongue made contact with the leather boots. "Muscle God I worship you " This time the man opposite must have heard what he was saying. The feeling of the beatings administered by his Master the slave quietly hoping that each one would be harder than the next. The pleasure it had as MuscleGod's boots pressed into its back as he used the slave as a boot rest, The joy as Musclegod's hands caressed its hair accompany red by an occasional word or praise"Good lad, good slave" before guiding its throat down on to his dick The hands grasped tightly around its throat guiding it as the throat moulded around the MuscleGod's perfect cock. The sensation of tears as the ran down his face as the intensity of the throat fuck increased. Then a break as MuscleGod pushed the slave back, its mouth still open and allowing a stream of spit to fall from his mouth on to the slave's tongue. The touch and the taste leading to a weakly whispered "Thank you Master" The slave suddenly noticed it was walking, having subconsciously left the station and was approaching his destination He briefly coughed and he could taste his Master's cigar infused spit. As with the other sense the slave realised how much taste contributed to the way that Muscle God controlled and dominated him. The taste of MuscleGod's sing as he licked him whilst worshipping. Almost every single inch of muscleGod had been licked from his feet up to his neck, even the sweaty crack of his firm arse when permitted. The slave was convinced by now he would be able to identify which of MuscleGod's boots he was worshipping by taste alone, so central was boot worship to his submission. He imagined MuscleGod sticking down two of his gauntlet covered fingers as he tried to make it gag, the saliva mixing with the years of cigar smoke that were infused inti the leather. As he gagged and the tears built up it would look at MuscleGod and consider how lucky it was to be owned by him. In its vision the slave was now kneeling as it savoured the last of MuscleGod's piss before a ball of cigar ash fell in his wide open mouth. "Thank You Master" it whispered. As it turned the corner into MuscleGod's road all the images converged into one as he knelt there taking his Master's dick in his mouth, the view as the perfect dick slid in, The smell of the leather as MuscleGod forced his face into the leather covered Groin, the sound of his Master praising it for its good work, as it gagged and spluttered as the dick grew inside his mouth, and finally the taste as MuscleGod's cum, his nectar filled the slaves mouth slowly falling down into its stomach. Suddenly the slave come back to his full senses as he watched the front door open. He slowly walked in and fell to his knees as above him his Master looked down and smiled as the slave mumbled "Muscle God you control me" before starting to lick his boots.