Jeff & Mike


By Cleety

So I had picked up a slave. Cool. And JEFF'S slave too - heh heh heh…it made me feel childishly proud of myself to steal something of his, after the way he betrayed me.

And despite his protests to the contrary, Brandon had a hot little body, too, and he knew it. He was cocky about getting naked, putting on leather gauntlets, and cockrings, and boots, and what have you, and showing off. All lanky and lithe and slender and perfectly - just perfectly - proportioned. Big wide shoulders, round capped deltoids, flaring triceps, veiny forearms…His deep, slightly concave chest sported two firm plates of pectorals, and his waist narrowed to short hips and a bubbled ass, then curved out into long, ropy legs that were hairless and smooth as silk. Unbeknownst to me, I found out, Jeff had sent some of the pics I had taken of Brandon into his old modeling agency. Now, Brandon gushed, the agents were interested, and he was going to pursue some modeling and probably even some porn on the side - if that was okay with me. "I can not have any secrets from my Master."

"Okay, Brandon, that's cool; thanks for telling me." Brandon broke character in an instant. "Don't thank me, Mike, you shithead. I'm your goddamned slave!" It was too fuckin' funny. After I stopped laughing, I decided to teach the dominant, uppity little slave a lesson, so I grabbed him right there, threw him on the couch, and raped his fresh hole with my cucumber-sized manmeat, doggie-style. When I dropped my load, I grabbed his chin and pulled his head around to face me. "Go home now, clean up. Come back first thing in the morning. I want to take some pics of you." •

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