Omega to Alpha

 

“What’s up, kids? Your God, Master James here. Just got back from playing ball with a few of the boys, worked up quite a sweat. What do you think, slaves? Have you all been good to your God lately?” James flexed his guns, sweat still dripping from his bushy pits. He smirked at the camera, kissing his bicep to the raucous barrage of hearts and eggplants fluttering up his screen. He’d started with only a few followers on Twitter, mostly guys who thirst followed a few of his traps. That humble little gaggle of gays grew exponentially in just a few months, and it wasn’t long until he’d had boys begging for his sweaty jockstrap after his basketball matches, or a pair of weeks-worn gym socks. Not only were they begging, they were willing to pay out.

Into his mind popped a brilliant little idea to make some side cash. He was just finishing college, was gonna start some menial sales job that probably wouldn’t end up paying much… why not capitalize on the idea. Custom videos, to private chats, to livestreaming… A year later; dominating his drooling minions was his full time career.

Little bells rang through the room, as his tributes began to pour in. One by one, each begging for him to pull off his favorite pair of basketball shoes; bought by a particularly doting gentleman from Oregon. He smirked as he waved his finger to the audience.

“Nuh uh. A fresh, ripe, sweaty smell like this needs to be appreciated. That’s why my favorite boy is gonna come help me with these, isn’t that right?” He panned his camera down toward the floor, revealing a rather angelic young man clothed in shining latex, arms bound tightly behind his back. He looked up at his master with deep desire and thirst. Looking deep into his eyes, James winked at his cuckold, knowing full well how his constant teasing drove the kid wild. “Yeah, that’s right, boy. C'mere.”

The sub, who for now we’ll call Ken, crawled across the floor over crusted cumsocks and used condoms and kneeling before his benevolent master. He’d always wanted to be dominated, and when James gave him the opportunity to live it; really live that fantasy, it felt only natural for him submit. For James was a different kind of dom. He wasn’t one of the demeaning asshats who would bully and destroy his slaves, nor was he a lazy cashmaster whose boredom and apathy showed in every video. James was like the proud owner of a pet. If Ken misbehaved, he was locked in the cage, a chastity cage making him a eunic for a day or two. If he impressed, he was rewarded handsomely. He wanted so badly to please him, to have his appreciation in it’s own twisted way, because each win was the soul candy of having earned it.

“That’s my boy.” He reached over and began to unbind his pet, being sure to bury Ken’s face into his salty pits along the way. The computer pinged wildly as tributes kept pouring in, $5 to $500 each time. His wrists unbound, Ken grabbed at his master’s wet chest, wrapping his arms around James’ rippled torso. “Did I say yet, kid?” James pushed his sub to the ground once again on all fours. He casually grabbed the camera and placed it on the floor. Making sure to get the frame right, he plopped his feet right in front of the shot. “Go ahead, kid.”

Ken salivated as he slowly pulled the shoestrings, feeling the heat radiating from within the sneaker’s leather confines. Carefully and with precision, he pulled off the shoe. A wave of musky humidity washed over him, the sweat-soaked black socks poured sweet manna from heaven into his nose. It was so sweet, so sour, bottled and brewed with care and testosterone. The shower of pinging from the computer, mixed with the lavish strokes of his sub’s velvety tongue on the slick soles of his socks had James smiling radiantly from atop his perch.

The session continued successfully, every minute of Ken’s absolute devoted worshipping caught on camera to rave response. Money piled in, as it did every show, even a gifted pair of fresh AF1’s added to the mix. After a monsoon of climaxes from both sides of the screen, the two eventually began their standard outro. James slid his cum-soaked sneakers back on and brought the camera back to it’s tripod.

“I know you liked it, kids. Looks like he did too. Send in those tributes, and subscribe. That’s an order.” He smirked, and turned to Ken knowingly. “There is one more thing, too.” James snapped his fingers and Ken knelt astute beside him. He patted his pet on the side of his head, ruffling the clean cut brown hair. “I’ve decided to give my favorite boy here a gift. The lil’ guy has earned it, and besides. I’m thinking into the near future.” He grasped the sub’s hair, now completely off script, and pulled him to his feet.“I’m gonna show you guys what happens when you’re good to me. And you’re gonna help me.”

Ken’s lean, twinkish frame stood before the adonis, in distinct sharp contrast. The mere difference in size alone was remarkable and indicative of the current dynamic. James’ mischievous smile beamed down, as his basketball shorts plummeted to the ground. The sub began to shake in anticipation, he’d only ever pleasured his master’s cock when the cameras were off, but it mattered not to Ken. He was so enveloped in the love, the domination, he would do absolutely anything for his master. James pulled the black compression shorts down slowly revealing his thick bush. From the forest snaked out his uncut serpent; thick, veiny, and pungent. James’ egg sized balls hung low, with beadlets of shimmering sweat sparkling amongst the hairs. Ken looked down at the massive cock, awestruck while James gently stroked.

“Give it here, boy.” James cupped Ken’s throbbing dick, aching from the cup of semen expended over the past two hours. He gasped, his master’s gruff touch took his breath away, as his master stroked their members in tandem. James stared intently at his pet with unwavering command, letting his slick, salty head be seen just long enough for him to dock Ken’s cock into his foreskin. The computer was screaming in constant pings, the audience clearly enjoying themselves.

“Open up.” James directed, as he thrust forward. Ken felt their heads intertwined in the slimy confines of his foreskin. It stretched right and left as they danced around. Ken huffed, doing everything not to blow his load right there, as even his master began to huff in heavy breath. There was a pinch in the cacophony, and Ken was overcome with a sense of penetration. He looked down at his master’s huge monster inching into his slit. He cried out in ecstasy with every thrust pulling the cock deeper into his own. It stretched with an elastic quality and sound as James plowed himself into it, reminiscent of a wet, sloppy fleshlight fucking. The two were breathlessly moaning, on the edge of a white waterfall.

“Get ready.” James growled before roaring in climax, with a stream of potent seed rushing out of his pulsating dick. To Ken, it started as if he couldn’t catch his breath. He could feel every barrage of cum pump into him, one after another as if rivers began to rage into his body. His toes began to tingle, a warm feeling pooling in his soles, before his feet started to widen and grow. Accompanied by the labored breaths of his master, his feet inflated with the warm, sloshing seed. A sharp funk tickled his nose while his legs ballooned outward with a coat of hair springing up along the muscled grooves. He breathed it in deeply, the only air he could take in. Each gasping breath of musk clouded his mind as his muscles progressively engorged.

“Ohhhh fuck yeah, bro.” James cooed, smiling with satisfaction at his pet. The world began to spin as Ken’s hands and arms were filled; he could feel the slime rising up towards his throat just as his shoulders broadened out. Pressure built and built until finally reached the bottom of his skull. It burst through, flooding his head and mind. Completely filled to the brim, there was no where else to go but up, as the last of the cum flowed into him. His skin creaked and squeaked as it stretched upward and outward until Ken was of equal statue to his master. Finally pulling out of the 11" cock, whatever excess seed unabsorbed flowed out like a draining bathtub.

“That’s right boys, look what happens when you submit.” Ken opened his eyes, looking down at his now adamantine body, the body of a God just like his master. A confidence long suppressed and hidden within him like a bird from a cage burst forth, and he looked at James from a different dynamic: an equal, a brother, a mate. Inhibitions now long gone, he tossed his sweaty arm around his bro, planting a passionate, aggressive kiss on James’ lips. “Say hello to your subs, Master Ken.” He plopped down in the chair only ever used by James, bringing his ripe size 15 foot to the camera lens.

He waved with his toes, and winked. He felt as if he could hear the screams of his submissive slaves with every passing moment. The two finally began their sign off.

“Alright kids. Submit your tributes again soon. Subscribe, and…

If you want to really live your nasty fantasy, we have some openings.”