Jay came to me with a look in his eyes that I’d seen many times before. I find that boys of his upbringing and experience are raised to follow a leader; a coach, a teacher, a mentor, an instructor. Sports, lessons, education… All of it training them to listen and obey. As they mature and head into the world, they lack that firm, guiding hand to show them what to do. He was hungry for it! And in that hunger, they can be molded.
The first step requires stripping them down. Jay came in with his torn jeans and hooded sweatshirt — symbols of defiance and rebellion. These were the first to go… And in doing so, I was delighted to see just what a specimen he was!
A firm, muscular, torso, well defined and worked out. He was not big like the boys who spend their days and nights in the gym, but rather lean and toned like a swimmer. His skin was smooth and soft, untarnished from overexposure to the elements. His vascular arms showed a vitality that was beyond appealing, pulsing as his heart beat and during my examination.
I held his mouth closed, pressing my ring to his lips; feeling him moan into my palm as I teased his nipples, played with this stomach, and navigated my hands down into his pants. Such a beautiful boy! I had a mind to keep him for myself… To play with him and breed him right there, but I knew that he had to be bought. Such a prize had to be won.
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