The Prize ass

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There’s nothing better than winning. That feeling you get under your scalp, that electric tingling that excites you, makes you feel taller and stronger. When I was the top bidder for Austin, it was a rush like nothing else. Not only had I won, but I was now this little guy's owner. He was mine. Mine to enjoy. It’s somewhat of a rite of passage to get the gold ring on your finger. It’s a symbol not only of the new bond between master and slave, but it’s also declaring your place among the others. The buyers. The elite. It’s a fraternity I’m proud to be a part of. It’s a powerful feeling knowing you’re among such esteemed men, watching them express their authority and power, and to see them take claim of their winnings. Today, I’m the lucky victor. As I step up to the auction stand, I see my prize waiting for me. A beautiful, well trained boy, presenting his hole up to me like it was served hors d'oeuvres. Showing me his tight little pink bud, inviting me, and completely submissive. Reaching out my hand, I simultaneously felt my mouth water and my heart pulse thinking of getting my first taste. Claiming my prize is more than just an indulgence. It’s also a pledge. By taking my new slave’s hole in the view of my peers, I’m affirming my membership. By seeing each other lay out our seed and marking our new property, we know we’re serious and can be trusted with this awesome power.