We had communicated through messages several times, and I was dying to be his, to give myself to him, to fulfill his fantasies. I knew that my only purpose would be to someday be used at his whim by this Master, who I already trusted was undoubtedly this Superior Being that I had longed to know and had dreamed of for so long. His profile said dominant bi man looking for submissive dog to train. He had told me that he had a small apartment where he exercised his fantasies, and I finally decided to accept the invitation. He gave me the address and added, "Be punctual, faggot, and remember that I'm doing you a favor by using you, don't disappoint me." Of course, that's how I understood it.

I arrived at the indicated address, pressed the intercom button, and for the first time, I could hear his firm and masculine voice asking, "Are you the faggot?" Yes, Sir, and I was already starting to feel that fabulous feeling of fear mixed with irrepressible excitement. "Third floor, apartment number 6." I went up the stairs, my heart beating like a drum, fearful, anxious, but driven by this uncontrollable sexual impulse. Without realizing it, I had already arrived at the third floor, the door to number 6 was ajar, and I knocked to announce my arrival. "Come in, faggot," he said with the same virile voice and an assertive tone.

As I entered, I realized that the place was empty, the Master seemed not to be in this room. In the dim light of this room, lit only by a small bedside lamp, I discovered a simple place, furnished with a table, two wooden chairs, a worn leather armchair, a single bed against the wall like a sofa, and a bookshelf. I didn't have time to read all the titles, but among other books were "Masters and Dungeons," "The 120 Days of Sodom" by the Marquis de Sade, as well as an anthology of Russian poets, which made me understand that the Master was a cultured person. It was only a confirmation, given that in the exchange of messages, I had noticed his undeniable and extraordinary intellectual abilities. A true Master is not a coarse brute but a Superior Being, educated, refined, and literate. On the right side, I noticed the presence of two doors, and I remembered that the Master had told me that his apartment only had one room, a kitchen, and a bathroom.

"Are you here, faggot?" the Master shouted from one of the adjacent rooms. Yes, Sir, I replied with a trembling voice. Then grab the handkerchief that's on the bed, fold it, and put it over your eyes like a blindfold. I quickly obeyed. Now, faggot, take off your clothes and get on your knees. I immediately fulfilled those orders, which were starting to excite me, feeling that I was fulfilling a mission, my presence here had a single purpose: to obey. Soon I heard the door opening, and I heard vigorous and decisive footsteps coming towards me. That's right, damn dog, that's right, you're nothing but a damn faggot dog. I dared to answer, "Yes, Sir." As soon as I finished an...