Herb and Me

It had years since I had last seen Lee, the neighbor kid who had guided me with the ease of a master down the road of servitude into a state of complete and depraved slavery. The extremely humbling experience with Lee, Kay, my former girlfriend, and others of my youth was finally set aside once I got away from the small town where we all lived. Running away, literally, I went to college as far from my hometown as possible. After school, I settled down, married and began a lucrative career in law.

As a promising attorney I joined a fairly large firm in a big city and slowly but determinedly worked my way up the ladder of success. In spite of the warped sexual discretions that still inhabited in the recesses of my mind, I finally managed to overcome Lee's bizarre influence and lead a fairly normal existence. In fact, in my last year at law school, I met the woman who would be my future wife, Kerri.

Kerri remains a beautiful brunette with a body that is just short of being a knockout. Often, I wondered why she chose to settle down with me but every day I'm thankful she did. Her beauty often reminds me of the lost love of my high school life, Kay, the girl I seemed destined to surrender to my high school rival, Lee.

Obviously, Kerri knows nothing about the embarrassing and humiliating period of my youth, the demeaning and subservient time when I so easily gave up all sense of pride and freedom to the arrogant, haughty Lee. There was no need to discuss that period with her. After all, what could I tell her?

"You see Kerri, once I had this need to subject myself to another male." Obviously, the confession would come with a sense of emasculation and total embarrassment. Naturally, she would be filled with way too many questions.

"What do you mean, subject yourself?" she would ask incredulously, as no normal person could possibly understand the perverse need I had to succumb to another to the point where I was a mere lackey to his every whim.

"I mean I became his slave," I would admit in utter humiliation. "I obeyed his every command. If he wanted me to do something, no matter what it was, no matter how humiliating, no matter how degrading to me, I obeyed." My eyes would be downcast as I revealed my corrupt inner self.

"What sort of things did he have you do?" she would continue in total disbelief, each question diminishing her respect for me, each truth lowering my own self-respect.

"It started with just simple chores. I carried his books to school, I mowed his lawn, washed his cars, that sort of thing," I would begin to explain, hoping to keep my revelations at the mundane level.

"Oh. Well that's not too bad. Maybe you were just being helpful. Did you have to do anything else?" Her curiosity would raise its ugly head and demand more details, not satisfied with merely embarrassing me. She would want every sordid example.

"During his parties, I served as his waiter." Memories of jumping to the snap of his fingers flashed through my head.

"Oh. I guess that's all right. I can understand that even though it does seem a bit too much for high school friends."

"You misunderstand." If she had seen us together, she would have realized that there was no way I was equal to Lee. "I wasn't his friend."

"You weren't? But you were both young boys. What kind of relationship did you have with him then?"

"I told you. I was his... slave."

"But Rob, I don't understand. There is no such thing as slavery any more. People don't own one another. How in the world did you become his slave? How did he make you do those things?"

"He didn't make me," I would whisper. Explaining why I willingly allowed the pompous neighbor to completely take control of my life, to literally own me was the difficult part, mainly because it was hard for even me to understand sometimes. How would I tell her why I succumbed to his every demand? How could I explain how every day it became easier to obey his imperial, lofty commands? How could I justify how erotic, exotic even, it was to literally bow down to this god-like figure even when I hated him for it? How could I justify my need to succumb, humble myself, and humiliate myself?

"I guess I did what he demanded because there was a part of me that wanted to. He was so... superior that I felt I had to obey."

"I don't understand! You willingly became his slave? What kind of person are you?" she would accuse, seeing me for the first time as the pitiful excuse of a man that I really was.

"It's true," I would answer, hating myself for feeling excited as I continued to reveal my inner self to the woman I loved. "I was no kind of man. I was far less than a man. I told you. I was a slave." The confession would take on a life of its own and as the surge of lust flowed through me I would tell her everything. My need to debase myself completely would overcome me. "It gets worse."

"How could it possibly get worse?" she would demand.

"I gave him my girlfriend." Even then, years later I would feel a wave of masochistic lust flow through me as I recalled the way I handed the love of my life to the arrogant and snobby master. "I shaved my head."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because he told me to," I would reply. "He wanted me to look totally ridiculous."

"What else?"

"I wore a nose ring to make it worse. I bowed down to him whenever he entered the room. I cleaned his feet. I allowed him to ride me as if I were some sort of horse. He beat me." With the raw lust of the confession arousing my base instincts, I would tell her everything. "And if you want to know the worst, he used my mouth."

"You sucked him off? You were his cocksucker?" Nodding, I would feel the humiliation fuel the inner desires of debasement.

Of course, you can readily see why I could never have this conversation. How could any self-respecting female ever want to be with me if she found out I had such a perverse soul? So I kept my past to myself. I wouldn't even tell Kerri what hometown I was from for fear that somehow she would want to visit.

Admittedly, for the first year after leaving home, it took a while to escape the effects of my notorious experience with the proud and perfect Chinese teenager. Many times I would wander around, completely lost without the imperial commands of my master to direct my every waking moment, but eventually I managed to put the bizarre events behind me, although there were many nights I pumped my little cock as I relived those depraved days.

Forgetting Lee was very difficult. All throughout the first year of college I kept waiting for him to summon my return, depriving me of the chance to better myself. I even glanced occasionally over my shoulder as if he would appear by magic, beckoning me to return to my proper place of servitude. But he left me alone, satisfied I guess with the knowledge that he still had my old girlfriend to comfort him.

Many times I hungered for the subservience, recognizing the urgent need in me for subjecting myself to a superior person. Jealousy would often flair as I realized that Lee would have no trouble finding another suitable slave to fill my unworthy shoes. I wondered who would be honored to serve at the feet of the master. At those times I missed the submissiveness that seemed to come so easily and natural to me.

Many nights, alone in bed, I would regret the times at his feet, bowing in my supplicate way, and obeying every cruelty he demanded from me. But as I relived the many scenes beneath his rule I would end up aroused and needing to relieve the sensual feelings he instilled in me. Reluctantly, I was forced to admit to myself the truth; that the shameful need to serve as his slave still lived, right beneath the surface of respectability.

Once, at a restaurant with my wife, I heard another patron snap his fingers at the waiter. Instant memories flooded through me and I wanted nothing more than to jump to his command and bow at the man's feet. I missed the embarrassing thrill that coursed through me each time my master bid me near him with just a snap of his fingers.

It took a tremendous amount of effort but I finally managed to put most of the demeaning experiences behind me.

Now, my life never seemed better. The lovely and beautiful Kerri loved me, seemingly in spite of all of my flaws. The problem was, despite her seemingly devotion, there was a part of me that wondered if what she really enjoyed were the financial compensations and the position my job provided her in the community rather than what I had to offer.

Our sex life was good, I convinced myself, if not overwhelming. It was easy to blame Lee for my bedroom problems. Too often, right in the middle of making love with my wife, images of Lee's haughty manner would intrude. As much as Kerri's voluptuous body inflamed me, unfortunately, she didn't arouse me the way Lee did. Often, to consummate the act, I pictured some exquisite, humiliating moments when I jumped to Lee's commands. Usually just the thought of some menial task in a demeaning way was all that it took to send me into a bout of ecstasy and shoot my load. The first time he suggested, (were his words ever suggestions?), that we each learn what it was like to be king and the slave would emerge in my mind while thrusting away with my wife. Bowing in my supplicate manner while he stood in his royal pose was enough to finish the act.

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how one views my status, there were many deliciously cruel pictures to choose from when remembering the times with Lee. For example, for some reason I wasn't content with my own debasement, I had to involve my cherished girlfriend in my depraved games. Memories of Kaye watching me kneel before my master to put his shoe back on, a wicked grin across her face as I lowered myself to her new lover sent flashes of ecstasy through me.

Recollections of Lee slapping me across the face as I stood like a fool with Kay watching with amusement would instantly cause my erection to explode.

Times when Lee bid me to wipe his feet while Kay looked on, seeing her old boyfriend at the feet of her new one, would cause me to shoot at once.

Using my mouth to take care of my master's needs while he talked on the phone to my old girlfriend instantly transported me back to those days of obsequious nightmares and I would explode instantly.

Images of the two perfect people, Kaye and Lee kissing or making love would cause me to ejaculate prematurely.

Even memories of Herb, the former nerd, and the thought of him taking Lee's place in the natural order of things could cause me to release my load.

Because of this tendency to constantly remember the situation with Lee, often times my lovemaking with my wife was short and perfunctory. I was satisfied, the sordid images of my servitude searing through my soul causing a brief yet powerful climax, but I wondered whether Kerri was pleased with my quick release. Obviously, Lee's hold on my psyche still affected my performance as a man.

After I climaxed I would roll off and guilt would set in. It was too easy to believe I wasn't worthy of such a beautiful, sexy woman. At that moment I realized that a man like Lee could make the delightful experience last for hours, causing her to scream in ecstasy, and satisfy her completely. With this knowledge in mind, I would struggle to compensate for my lack of performance and endurance. The only thing left for me at that moment, as I reviewed my spent and worthless manhood, was to become overly proficient with my oral skills.

Fortunately, Kerri seemed to enjoy the tender sensations my mouth gave her, both before and after I had entered her. She never held my short, quick thrusts against me. After the first few weeks of frustration she adjusted to the situation by guiding me through our lovemaking routines. Before I could begin my short journey inside her, she directed me to spend a great deal of time massaging, licking and kissing her entire body. Only when satisfied with my oral devotion would she allow me to crawl on top of her and pound away.

The only time I worried about her unspoken desires happened one evening while watching a porn movie. During the show, Kerri seemed to take a special interest in the rather large size of some of the men. Kerri did not have a lot of experience before our marriage and as a consequence had little to compare me with.

As the movie unfolded and she started getting aroused, Kerri reached inside my pajamas to fondle my appendage. My little guy immediately sprang to attention, enjoying her caresses. As she played with me I noticed her eyes travel back and forth from the small handful that barely reached above her fingers to the studs in the film. Obviously I came up very short. Needless to say, before she could make the connection, I deemed the best way to take her mind off of my lack of size was spend the rest of the movie with my head between her legs. She watched the movie by herself as I licked away, driving her to three delicious orgasms.

Checking my little guy in the mirror later that evening, it was very apparent that I was nowhere near the size of Lee, or probably most men for that matter.

Nonetheless, for all of my shortcomings, all was going well in my life. As I said I was rapidly becoming one of the brightest stars in the firm and it wasn't going to take long before I achieved the status of partner. Kerri was very pleased with my stature and relished both the money and the prestige that came with it. We bought a new home in a good neighborhood and were even considering the possibility of children when my past caught up with me.

Like the shift in the wind on a chilly autumn day, suddenly and without warning, my entire world shifted upside down.

Anyone familiar with my time with Lee will remember that another male entered the scene right before I escaped. Herb was his name. Not nearly the physical specimen Lee was, nonetheless, Herb almost snared me into another perverted web before I got away. It was easy understanding why I fell under Lee's influence. Lee was a perfectly sculptured, muscular and very handsome Adonis. His superior attitude and haughty demeanor befitted his lofty appearance. Compared to him, I fell short in every category and it was a natural progression for me to submit to his every demand. Even though I never believed I had any homosexual feelings whatsoever, Lee's absolute perfection as a stud often caused my mouth to water in awe.

Herb was very different from Lee, in every way. Not muscular at all, there were traces of fat around his waist. Even his head of hair was wispy compared to Lee's perfect coif. When I first met Herb, long before Lee entered the scene, I thought he was a nerd and treated him as such. During the time I was on top of the social caste before Lee came along and replaced me, I rejected Herb as unworthy of my friendship. That's why it seemed so unbelievable that I would want to succumb to his will too.

More than once, in a deep, depraved, and perverted dream, thoughts of Herb taking Lee's place used to possess me. In my warped mind I imagined Herb as my master and even lover of my beloved Kay. The absolute perversity of the situation was so bizarre that I easily fell under its sway. At the time, the more depraved the situation, the more likely I was to succumb to it.

After I left town, I wondered why I even considered submitting to Herb. Maybe the total degradation of the situation pushed me towards that ultimate surrender. After all, what kind of man subjects himself to a nerd? Everyone admired Lee, worshipped even, but to fall at the feet of a loser like Herb meant something far different, something far more depraved. There could be no doubt about my choosing the most shameful status if I bowed to Herb. It could only mean that I was finally so far down the path of degradation that I was beyond redeeming. Maybe that was the appeal. It was natural surrendering to Lee, a born master. Succumbing to Herb was unnatural, therefore, more perverse.

Later, after I went to college, I decided that my response to Herb just showed that I was still under Lee's spell. The feeling of inferiority towards Herb was just a manifestation of the carry over of Lee's influence. Surely I was not so lowly that I would succumb to Herb's commands.

In my present position, my wife and I were constantly invited to many sorts of social events, usually taking place on the weekends. We both enjoyed these parties a great deal. Kerri loved the evenings because in comparison to the other wives, she was by far the prettiest and most enchanting. She also appreciated rubbing elbows with the rich and powerful.

There was another reason I relished the nights. Getting ready for the party allowed me the opportunity to relive some of the old, servile ways. Without the surrender to an evil master, getting ready for a party provided a sort of temporary relapse into my old slave-like status. By this I mean that the event allowed me to serve my wife without getting into that demeaning position I used to be under Lee's sway.

As we prepared for the evening, Kerri enjoyed the idea of us shopping together and buying her outfits to show off her delicious and gorgeous body. As we readied for the evening I would mentally slip into the role of her servant, a sort of lady's maid with no privileges except menial service. The only experience I had prior to my marriage that was similar was the time I helped Kay get ready for a date with Lee. I had to admit the memory of that wicked evening was one reason I so enjoyed devoting myself to my wife.

Kerri easily assumed the role of a spoiled mistress mainly because in her own way, she was the physical equal to Lee although not possessing the haughty attitude—yet.

As my goddess undressed, I would draw her bath. In my mind, (fantasy), Kerri would become a very haughty, totally unapproachable lady, far beyond my insignificant status. Always clad, even if it was merely a towel, she never exposed her luscious body to the lowly servant. As she slid into the sudsy water, she quickly hid under the bubbles so even then I was unable to gaze upon her incomparable beauty.

Eagerly, but mindful and careful, I would aid in her bath, washing her tenderly as though I was some sort of body attendant readying his mistress for a night out on the town with one of her regal consorts. Needless to say, the whole experience went a long ways to fulfill the subservient need in me and I would be highly aroused throughout the evening.

Sometimes, before entering the steaming water Kerri would allow me to shave her long, lanky legs, exposing only the part of the limbs that needed my service, sheltering the fruits of her body from my peering eyes. Just the touch of her naked skin drove me mad with lust but like the good servant I was I never took advantage of the situation except in my devious mind. To add to the delicious torture, most of the time at her feet, shaving her legs, I fantasized that I was readying my beautiful mistress for a date with some muscular hunk.

After the bath, she encased herself in a robe while I dried her softly, eyes downcast, the way a good servant would do, applying powder and perfume to special places—places I believed in my servile mind were reserved for others and not me.

Then, if I was especially good, as a treat to me, I would be allowed the great honor of painting her toenails.

The situation and the position fit my needs well, kneeling before her exquisite nudity as a lowly, unworthy slave. With great and deliberate effort, I was very careful not to peek up at the juncture between her legs, knowing the view of her blessed and sacred font was reserved for only the very fortunate—possibly a stud like Lee. In my lowly position as a mere lackey to the beautiful mistress, I would believe that I had no right to even glimpse at the area of perfection that she reserved for her real lovers.