Master's Pup

[dominantmusclemaster]

Masters Pup

 

I walk through the door, lock it behind me and make my way to the living room.  As I enter the room I glance at the clock on the wall.  Ten o’ clock exactly, that’s good.  I strip out of my clothes; jeans, t-shirt, jacket, socks and trainers, and lay them neatly folded on the sofa.  Wearing only my boxers I walk into the middle of the room and kneel down facing the door.  After a few minutes I hear his footsteps as he climbs the stairs from the basement and a shiver of anticipation runs through me.  As he walks through the door into the room wearing only a pair of pale blue workout tights, it takes all of my self-control not to run over to him.  To grab hold of his supremely powerful body and feel his hot, bulging muscles.  To kiss his smooth, tanned skin. To savour his masculine scent.  But I do not.  I am a good pup and I know my place and what is expected of me.  Instead I kneel before him, drinking in the sight of his physical perfection.  His face is handsome and angular face, his chin darkened with a day’s stubble.  His huge muscular chest rises and falls rhythmically with each breath he takes and leads down to his solid clearly defines abs.  His small waist flares out into huge quads sheathed in blue spandex, the material so tight that his impressive cock is clearly outlined.  He is the ultimate embodiment of masculinity.  Strong, powerful, authoritive.

 

“Good morning pup”, he smiles, his deep, dark brown eyes boring into mine, stripping my mind open and allowing him to see every aspect of me.   My deepest needs and desires opened up to him.

 

“G…good morning Master”, I croak, the mere sound of his deep commanding voice rendering me almost speechless with desire.  My cock twitches in my boxers as he walks past me and I smell the musky scent from his body, a smell so potently masculine that it could be bottled as a testosterone substitute.  I look over at him and take in the sight of his muscular bubble butt, flexing erotically beneath the spandex as he walks.

 

He opens a cabinet and on a shelf sits several dog collars.  I feel a pang of jealousy as I notice another collar has been added since last week.  Another pup added to his ever growing litter.  All of the collars are identical.  Black leather, with a small ring on the back to attach a lead and a small metal plate on the front on which our names are engraved.  Mine says, “laundry pup”, and I sometimes wonder if Master even remembers my birth name.  I say birth as opposed to real name because my real name is whatever label my Master bestows upon me.

 

He picks up my collar, stands behind me and gently fastens it around my neck.  I feel a deep sense of peace come over me as we enact this symbol of his ownership of me.  I have no cares of my own, no decisions to make.  The only concern I now have is pleasing my Master.  He will command and I will obey.  I am liberated.

 

“You have work to do pup”, he says, “I suggest you get started.

“Yes Master”, I reply.  On my hands and knees I crawl into the hall towards the laundry room.  In my Masters presence I am not permitted to stand without his express permission.  I am his pup and I am expected to crawl at his feet.

 

Once in the laundry room I stand and walk over to the washing hamper.  I start to lift out the dirty laundry when I notice a pair of black trunks.  It is clear from the stains that my Master has at some point unloaded a torrent of cum into them and I lift them to my face.  I inhale deeply, savouring the smell of my Master’s crotch, my dick hardening as I do so.  I am tempted to place them in my mouth, to hungrily suck on them and taste my Master, but I refrain.  It is enough that I am smelling his dirty underwear, to lick them without his permission would seem like a violation.  I am here to serve him, not satisfy my own perverted urges.

 

I start to load the washing machine and once that is done I empty the dryer in preparation for the ironing.  I glance up at the flat screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the ironing board and stare.  The screen is linked to a camera in my Master’s basement gym and he is there performing dumbbell flies with 2 massive looking barbells.  I stare in awe as he performs rep after rep, his muscles flexing and contracting in beautiful symphony.  My Master doesn’t always work out whilst I am performing my duties but when he does it is both a blessing and a curse.  Watching him work out his superbly conditioned body makes me painfully hard.  There is no TV in the basement, nor does my Master bother with music.  He is completely focused, approaching his work outs with the same single minded focus he approaches everything else.  His commitment to the task at hand is total.

 

But I must not allow myself to be distracted by his physical perfection.  I have a job to do and I am expected to do it well.  My Master expects his clothes to be as perfect as the body they adorn, and if I do not perform to his standards I will be punished.  Of course, no punishment hurts as much as the knowledge that I have disappointed him.  I begin to iron his clothes, focussing on the task and not the screen, ensuring every article is perfect before moving onto the next.  As I carefully place a shirt on a hanger I notice that he has moved onto barbell squats.  I allow myself a few minutes to stop and watch, as he bends his knees and his perfectly defined muscle butt lowers towards the floor, the spandex threatening to rip apart from the pressure of his swollen glutes.  I can feel myself leaking pre-cum as he straightens his legs and rises back up with agonising slowness before repeating the movement.  I glance down at myself to see wet spots on the front of my boxers and look away from the screen, using all my will power to stop myself from erupting uncontrollably.  I go back to my tasks, emptying the washing machine and loading the laundry into the dryer, finishing off the ironing and then taking the freshly ironed clothes into his room and putting them away exactly as he likes it, all the while fighting the urge not to get distracted by the absolute masculine perfection on the screen before me.

 

Once all the laundry is completed I head back into the living room and resume my position in the middle of the room.  Ten minutes or so pass before I hear his footsteps once more ascending the stairs.  I hear him walk down the hallway towards his bedroom and know that he is checking I have completed my tasks to his satisfaction.  When he finally comes back into the living room the expression on his face is unreadable and he is carrying a lead.  Without a word he moves behind me and attaches the lead to my collar.  He walks towards the full length mirror on the far wall and tugs at the lead so that I immediately crawl after him.  He stops in front of the mirror and admires himself for a few moments.  The contrast between us is stark.  My pale, flabby body looks truly pitiful alongside his swollen tanned muscles.  Every aspect of his physique dwarfs my own.  He is bigger than me, harder stronger than me.  Side by side like this there can be no doubt that he is superior to me in every way.  It simply reinforces my understanding that he was born to rule and I was born to serve.

 

He moves behind me and begins to wrap the lead around his wrist, taking up the slack until my head is pulled back against him.  I feel his dick, rock hard against the back of my skull and feel a surge of pride in the knowledge that my servitude is the cause of his arousal.  “Take out your dick”, he commands, and I immediately reach into my boxers and take out my engorged cock.  My arousal is obvious but it is no way compares to the monster appendage pressing against my skull.  “Stroke yourself”.  Again I obey instantly and start to slowly pump my cock.

 

He gives another tug on the lead causing it to press against my throat, making it difficult to breath.  “What are you?” he asks.

“I..I am a lowly submissive”, I gasp, “and I crave the authority of my Master”.

He raises his free arm and flexes increasing my arousal as I watch the reflection of the muscle swelling in size and hardness.

“Repeat your mantra”, he says flexing his chest.

“I am a lowly submissive and I crave the authority of my Master”, I croak.  The constriction against my throat and the sight of his powerful pecs bouncing up and down are making it hard to breathe, but I dutifully chant my mantra over and over again.  These are the last words I hear myself say every night as I drift off to sleep.  This is the first thought I have every morning when I awaken.  My very existence summed up in 13 words.  I increase the tempo of my stroking as I watch his powerful, Godlike body flex over me.  My breathing becomes more ragged, my voice more shrill as I feel my orgasm approach.

“Cum”, he commands, and my body obeys, shooting my thick milky fluid over the floor. He unclips the lead and I slump forward physically and mentally drained. 

 

“Clean up your mess”, he growls, walking out the room.  I know what is expected of me.  Whenever my Master allows me to cum in his presence I am expected to lick it up afterwards but it is a small price to pay for the most intense orgasms I have ever experienced.  I lean forward and begin to lap my cum off the floor and am almost finished when he returns holding a dog bowl.  He watches wordlessly as I lick up the last of my cum and then places the bowl on the ground. 

“Thank you Master”, I say, touched by his thoughtfulness.   

 

My mouth is dry, gritty and foul tasting and I begin to lap thirstily from the bowl.  The yellow liquid is warm and slightly salty and I am honoured at being allowed to ingest my Masters Godly nectar.  As I slurp gratefully on his warm piss he picks up his phone and sits down on the large leather sofa.

“Hey, it’s me”, he says when the other person answers.  “Did you make a reservation?  Good, I’ll pick you up from your place at 8, we can have a quick drink before we eat.  See you then babe.” I cannot help but feel envious towards the lucky woman that will get the chance to sit across a table from this Supreme Being, knowing that at the end of the evening he will be fucking her into whimpering submission. He hangs up and immediately dials another number.  This time his voice is more authoritative. “You pick me up from my house at quarter to eight and drive me into town.  Don’t be late”.  He ends the call without even waiting for a reply, knowing that whomever was on the other end is incapable of refusing him.

 

When I finish drinking what is in the bowl he walks over to me, removes the collar and places back in the cabinet.  “I have no further use for you today pup”, he says, “get dressed and leave.  I will see you on Wednesday”.

“Yes Master”, I reply, “thank you for allowing me the honour of serving you”.  He smiles at my response and leaves the room.  I once more gaze longingly at his broad, powerful back and incredible glutes as he walks away, and know that the next 3 days will seem like an eternity.

[Hanugumo]

The only thing I am a little disappointed about is that the Master figure did not thank his submissive pup at all for his service.

I do believe that should deserve at the least a "thank you" ^^;;;

But oh we, great story non the less. ^w^

[portamivia]

That was hot! Missing chatting with you, stud. 

Also, knowing your more violent stories, I'd like to see pup making a mistake while ironing... curious about the punishment he would get.

[greg22inarms]

Why should the master thank the slave? It's his duty to serve and should be grateful 

[Hanugumo]

16 hours ago, greg22inarms said:

Why should the master thank the slave? It's his duty to serve and should be grateful 

It doesn't truly say that he is a slave. He could also be what is called a "pet", which is pretty much a slave that recieves love and care of the master and has earned some respect. But is still a slave that does whatever the master demands him to do. ^w^

[0000]

The slave point of view is so fucking exciting

[Musclave]

Your story always make everyone excited!

[Guest]

.

[yagamilight]

I can't wait to see where the story goes!

[LoverofMuscleMonsters]

That is the way a slave should be serving the alpha, but i miss a little bit the more violent action