Iván Surrendered to His Master That Summer Afternoon

That afternoon Iván finished the chores late. He had swept the floor, washed the lunch dishes, hung up the laundry that had been going round and round in the washing machine all morning, and only then allowed himself a shower. He came out of the bathroom with the towel tied around his waist, barefoot, as every day, and crossed the hallway toward the living room to get dressed. It was summer, and the heat weighed heavy inside the apartment.

He had barely loosened the towel when he noticed the stare. Modibo was watching him from the sofa, silent, with a seriousness that was not his usual one. Iván reached for a pair of shorts folded over a chair and started putting them on without taking his eyes off him.

—Is something wrong? You’re looking at me like you always do, but today you seem serious —he said.

—No, no happen nothing —Modibo replied, not moving a muscle.

—Really? Did something bother you? Do you need anything?

—No… or yes… but not with you.

Iván sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. They had been keeping that routine for months: he took care of the house and Modibo let him do it, grateful, always with a kind word and that habit of praising his body that Iván pretended not to take seriously.

—Tell me anything. We’re friends. Even if you’re in a bad mood, let me know what’s going on.

—Balls full. Long time no fuck… and besides, I never fuck much. Nothing here, either there, in my country.

—Ah! —Iván was thrown for a second—. But it’s strange that someone like you can’t find a willing woman. You’re tall, strong…

—Easy with women, yes… but I tell you one thing if you promise not to tell.

—Of course, of course.

—I always prefer boys. And not dare there, less here. Not want trouble.

Iván felt the air in the living room grow denser. Boys. The word kept spinning around in his head.

—Boys? —he asked, and his voice came out lower than he expected.

—Yes. Boys like you. That’s why, when I see your ass… make me bad.

—So that’s why you kept saying “good ass.” It wasn’t just a compliment, then.

—It was more —Modibo admitted, shrugging—. But well, not worry.

Iván was twenty-two and had never been with anyone. What he said next came out before he thought about it, almost as if someone else were speaking through his mouth.

—Well, I’d like to help you with that too… though I’m a virgin, I don’t really know how.

—Virgin? —Modibo lifted his eyebrows.

—Yes. I’ve never had sex.

—No girl, no boy?

—Neither one nor the other. But I realized a while ago that it’s with you that I feel best. I don’t know how to explain it. So maybe I could try. —He swallowed—. Though I’ve also realized you’re very big.

Modibo gave a low laugh, a deep laugh rising from his chest. He spread his legs on the sofa and slapped the cushion between his thighs.

—Come. Sit here.

Iván obeyed. He settled with his back to him, pressing in close until he felt the heat of his body against his own back.

—Like this?

—Like this. Nice feel cock pressed to ass —Modibo murmured against his neck—. You have good ass.

***

They were both in shorts, shirtless. Modibo put his arms around him from the front and drew him in with a quiet strength, unhurried, like someone who knows nobody is ever going to take what he has away from him. For the first time Iván truly felt like he belonged to him: the way those arms held him made him feel small and surrendered, literally and figuratively, in his hands.

Modibo lowered one hand, hooked his fingers in the waistband of the shorts, and started to pull them down. Iván didn’t resist; on the contrary, he lifted his hips a little to help him take them off. Behind him, separated only by the thin fabric of the other pair of shorts, Modibo’s cock was rock-hard. He could feel it like a hot bar pressing against his buttocks. Then the African stripped too, barely breaking the posture they were in, and suddenly it was skin against skin: the dark skin of a huge sex and the white, hairless buttocks of the boy.

—I’m going to put it in you, baby —Modibo said slowly, near his ear—. There’s no helping it. It’s going to hurt, but I’m going to put it in all the way. I can’t not do it now.

—It doesn’t matter if it hurts —Iván replied, with a calm that surprised even himself—. You need to empty those balls. You can’t keep going like this.

—First suck. Then, wet, go better in your ass.

He pulled him away from him with his hands, as if he were moving a doll. The difference in weight and strength between the two of them was obvious. He made him kneel on the floor, and Iván ended up between those firm legs, with a tremendous cock in front of his face and no idea what to do with such a thing. He started by licking the tip, then tried to take in more, clumsily discovering in the moment what his mouth could and couldn’t do.

—You have to swallow more. Much more.

Iván tried. He managed to take in a good part, but nowhere near all of it. Modibo put both hands on the back of his neck and began to push his head toward him.

—I help. You see how you swallow all.

It was the first blowjob of his life and it was turning into something else: one gag after another, an invasion of his throat that made him choke and lose his breath at times. But it helped to think about what he had read and fantasized about so many times. The roles of master and slave were there, present, only reversed from how history had written them: the Black man was the master, and he, the little white one, the slave. He saw it as only right. He told himself he had to endure, that his master had rights and he had the duty to obey. And among those rights was what he had already announced: putting that all the way in. He wasn’t going to ask him to be gentle. In the fantasy that drove him mad, no slave asked his master for softness; roughness was part of the arrangement.

***

After a while Modibo lifted him up and set him on his knees on the sofa, arranging him as he liked: hands on the backrest, back arched, ass raised and offered. He spread his buttocks with his thumbs and spat. He smeared his cock, now well-lubed by Iván’s mouth, and rested the tip against the boy’s little pink hole. He pushed, and the head went in.

—Ay! —Iván dug his fingers into the upholstery.

—You want me out and back in? —Modibo asked, still.

—No, no… do whatever you want. Forget whether it hurts me. Keep going.

—Then, take.

He felt how all of it moved into him, forcing its way through.

—Fuck! —Iván groaned, his forehead pressed to the backrest.

—With an ass so good, have to go in —Modibo said, almost to himself—. Now get ready, now really fuck.

Iván’s head was spinning. The pain was still there, deep, though he could feel it loosening little by little. And at the same time, beneath the burning, there was something else: the certainty of having truly become that man’s possession. He was no longer just the one who cleaned his house, washed his clothes, cooked for him. Now he had him inside him. It hurt precisely because it was huge, and that, far from embarrassing him, filled him with a strange pride. He couldn’t see it, but he imagined his own white ass opened by that dark cock going in and out, and the image turned him on more than anything else. Now he really had a master. And after this he intended to be even more serviceable, if possible.

Modibo didn’t last long. It had been too many months without anyone, and he hadn’t even had the relief of his hand in the last few days. He had never fucked a white ass. He looked at those large, beautiful buttocks, his cock appearing and disappearing between them, and knew he wasn’t going to hold out.

—Baby, I no hold more. I give milk in ass.

—Give it to me —Iván panted, taking a hand to his own cock—. Give it all to me. Let it go whenever you want.

—Already… coming already… take.

Iván jerked off quickly, he didn’t need much: with a couple of movements and everything he was feeling inside, he came on the sofa almost at the same time as the other emptied himself into him.

***

Modibo pulled away slowly, breathing deep, with a broad smile.

—Mmm. Feel so good. I needed this… And you, baby? How you feel? Ass hurt?

—A lot, a lot —Iván admitted, letting himself fall onto his side—. But it was predictable. You just took my virginity with that cock.

—I should control. Go little by little.

—Not at all. You have to be how you are and do it however you want. Besides, I liked it. You made me feel like yours and I’m glad, even if it hurts. It had to happen sooner or later. I’ve known for a while I don’t like girls… and what better than being deflowered by you.

—You are… they say here, a total fag.

—Call me whatever you want —Iván laughed—. But if you let me choose, I want you to call me slave. I want you to say it to me all the time. The idea of being the white slave of a Black man like you gets me hot.

—Then slave, then. Actually you already are. For a long time I no move a finger in house. You do everything. Slave long time.

—Sure, but today, on top of that, you made yourself owner of my ass.

—We go bathroom, no?

They went together. Modibo stepped into the shower and Iván sat on the toilet to let out everything he had been left with inside. Then he wiped himself with paper and, when he looked at it, noticed a little blood. He thought about it for a moment and decided not to say anything; he didn’t want to worry him. His father suffered from hemorrhoids, and he already had the plan in mind for when he got home: a little ice wrapped in paper, for a while, and then the cream his father kept in the bathroom cabinet. It wasn’t the same, but it would ease things a bit. When Modibo came out of the shower, he went in, and as always, he finished getting dressed in the living room.

—Unfortunately I have to go —he said, fastening his shirt—. My mother is waiting for me.

—Okay. Go with mother. But first clean sofa. You made stain.

—Of course, it’s my duty. Good thing it’s faux leather; a damp cloth and done.

—Like much this having slave —Modibo said, stretching out on the already clean sofa.

—Maybe not as much as I like being one.

—Tomorrow make copy key. After today… then you arrive and clean before I come back from work.

—Thank you, my master. So nice to have made it this far, even if my ass hurts.

—Well, go with your mother. Say hello from me. I think you say I am friend.

—Yes. And she liked that I had a friend like that. She’s open-minded.

—Better. Though not imagine friend fucks his son —Modibo said, and let out one of his deep laughs again.

—For now I’m not going to tell her that either —Iván smiled from the doorway—. But I don’t think she’d be too scandalized.

—Very modern, the family of the little white boy.