This is a true story. Darren and I are very real and so is his ongoing story.
Darren is a few years younger than me. He's an interesting character. On the surface he's completely different to me. I first met him online in the earlier days of the internet. Around the millennium. We chatted in gay chat rooms. He claimed then - and still now - his heterosexuality. That's what appealed to me then and now. Our relationship changed and developed over this period to what it is today.
I am a gay man. Darren is married now with two teenage kids. In the 2000s I cultivated his need to submit and he did. The first time he arrived at my house he stood, took his shirt off then fled. He has - gradually - come a long way since then.
I now have full access to his Facebook account and messenger. If I wanted to, I could send his mates - his wife - his son - some very interesting pictures and videos. I never would. But he needs to be controlled. He needs to be taken down a peg or two sometimes.
Darren owns his own boxing gym. He is a well respected boxing coach. Tall, muscular with a firm body. Perfect pecs and chest. Firm, pert arse and a below average dick. Much taller than me around 6' 5". A giant, imposing figure. His social media account has the tagline "family man". He engages in the macho bullshit of straight men online. I like to regularly remind him what his macho gym mates would think if they knew his reality. He quickly remembers his place then.
Darren likes to pretend this is forced. I like to remind him that he wants and needs to be my boy. We both know it.
........
Last week we met for a walk in the countryside. It was chilly so I wore a warm jacket. Darren dressed in his lycra top and shorts. And his tight, white, boy briefs. I waited until we were in the woods before I expected a kiss. He kissed me passionately - a full on snog - as usual. He's come a long way. He continued as I stroked his little dick in his shorts. He's usually dripping and tenting pretty quickly.
I waited until we were deep in the woods. Him following behind me silent and in submission. I call him boy usually, slave often. He calls me Sir. We reached a quietish spot, just out of sight of the farmer in his tractor.
Darren's nervous shrug of acceptance betrayed his fear but he is well trained now. He understands that his master knows best. Silently he stripped until he stood in only his tight white boy briefs. Barefoot, his nipples pointing in the cold October afternoon. His body shook - a mix of cold and adrenaline. As ordered, he stood on full display. Legs spread wide, he opened his mouth and accepted my tongue. I like to lick my tongue inside his mouth, behind his teeth and over the roof. Part of his understanding that he has no privacy from me. I switch my attention to biting his nipples, my hands groping his arse and his desperate cock leaking through the thin white fabric. He takes it silently, gasping and shuddering in his basic need to be my object of desire.
Slowly I pull down his white briefs and leave him stark naked. As his aching cock springs free I throw the last vestige of his manhood - his decency - into the shrubbery. He involuntarily thrustes into the air as my cold fingers wrap around his dick. Throbbing and begging for relief.
Unusually for Darren he cannot control his desperation to serve. He reaches down for my lips and kisses me passionately. Desperate for my attention.
I pull away and gather his clothing up. I walk across the clearing and deposit it on the other side of the area from him. Just so he feels his exposure. He watches. Naked on display. A magnificent specimen of male hood, starknaked on display.
Slowly, I return. Tracing my finger over his naked chest and abs, I place my hand on the area where his pubes should be. I rub it slowly, smirking with satisfaction as I look into his desperate eyes. He must keep this area shaved now and I check for hairs. "Good boy" I whisper as I nibble his ear. His bald head quivers as I run my fingers through his beard.
Wordlessly I step behind him. I pull down the front of my trackie bottoms and my hard cock pops free. Slowly I move behind my vulnerable straight boy slave and my cock enters his firm arse crack. Slowly, deliberately, my moist cock enters his private area and rubs up and down his crack. He gasps in anticipation as he embraces his deep need.
I like to think he is remembering last week. When he was tonguing my hole on the floor of his gym office. Metres from his personal trainers. Or maybe last month when he was on naked display in his own living room for me.
It's not long before I have him on his knees in the woods. With a frightened glance around him he takes my cock into his mouth and I sigh contentedly. I know he struggles with cock sucking. My repeated reminders that he cant change the fact he is a cock sucker now makes no difference. It hurts his sense of being straight. I think he still believes it. I would love to tell you dear reader that I blast the back of his straight throat with my cum but I haven't got that far with him. Yet. He knows I want to but he says he thinks he couldn't do it. He said the same about cock sucking, ball worship, face sitting and me fucking him. What I want, I get. It's just a matter of time.
I put my cock away and order him on all 4s. I nod."Please Sir. Please may I cum?" he whispers. Just the words bruise his self imposed machoism.
I move behind him. He knows I only allow him to cum in one way.Silently I grab his little hard cock and yank it backwards between his legs. Facing his feet. And expertly begin to milk him like a cow. It never takes him long as he grunts and gasps in desperation. Eventually his body contracts and his boyseed sprays the floor beneath him. I save my cum, I will use it later in my own bed. Maybe next week I will spray it over him. Or in him.
He stays in position as I walk away without a backward glance. A naked straight hunk spent in desperate humiliation in the middle of the woods.
I know and expect the response. He will text me a thank you. Then some straight sulking as he contemplates why he does this to himself.
But we both know he will report at my flat next week. I inform him to expect a breeding, use as a footstool and a good spanking over my knee.
"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."
"Good boy."
