I didn’t allow John much time to collect his thoughts. He needed to be overwhelmed, mentally and emotionally, broken so that I could rebuild him as I saw fit. So I interrogated him. Mercilessly, endlessly and relentlessly; hardly a pause between his answer and the next question. Normally I’d have a sissy secretary taking notes, but I’d sent Sarah, sweet jealous Sarah, away. Besides, John was special. So I recorded his answers.

“Age?”

“42.”

“Religion?”

“Atheist.”

“When were you circumcised? … How old were you when you lost your virginity? When did you suck your first cock? What does your cum taste like? How badly do you want to touch yourself right now? What are you willing to do for me right now? What is your oldest fantasy? What is your favorite color? What is your annual income? Have you thought about wearing panties?”

On and on. Hundreds of questions, one after another, with no pattern that he could find. Rapid fire, demanding, ranging from simple getting-to-know-you questions to invasive, intrusive inquisitions.

He answered them all. His voice would sometimes break, he blushed crimson across his chest, his cock stood at attention the entire time, and he looked me in the eyes as long as he could. When he looked down, he always brought himself back to Position One.

Kneeling, knees apart. Hands on his thighs, palm down, fingers spread. Back straight. Feet flexed under him so he balanced on the balls of his feet, his toes splayed and his knees. Shoulders back, chest out, chin up. Balls swinging freely, cock erect.

He posed for me, and began to accept the constraints of the Position, even to relax into them.

Three hours of questions later, his eyes were glazed, his cock sagging a bit with exhaustion; this much psychic bombardment had sent him into a lightly meditative trance. He’d become suggestible, open, vulnerable to my commands.

“Touch yourself, lightly. Stroke. Up to the head, swivel your hand around, back down. Cup your balls. Faster.” His cock had revived under my masturbation instructions. “Stop. Scoop up that precum dribbling down your shaft.”

His eyes, fever bright, were locked onto my face. His mouth open as he panted, he obeyed.

“Lick it up.”