REAL STORIES OF A MASTER No. 1 - PROLOGUE: WHO I AM

I am a man who enjoys authority over those who surrender in submission. Part of this, I know, is a cultural design. I grew up in a society where some dominant men make decisions and others obey and serve. But this is not forced, it stems from a deep and silent desire to follow an order that they truly enjoy.

I have always received special treatment, not because I demanded it or because I needed to impose myself, but simply because that's how the world around me functioned. It was an accepted and recognized order, and I learned to occupy my place.

Identifying those who submit, reading their gestures, their way of yielding even before they utter a word, and the way they write, that is, real submissives, is something I can do. I don't care about their gender or orientation; what attracts me is that mix of respect and desire that turns submission into an exciting game.

For years, I thought this was exclusively a trait in my country, but when I arrived in Europe last year, I discovered that the same thing happened, but in a much less open way. People from all origins and orientations seemed to orbit around me, recognizing an authority that I didn't need to impose, and with a deep need to serve and obey.

The pattern repeated itself, constant and silent, without me doing anything to provoke it.

In everyday life, there are many people who compete for my attention, wanting to spend time with me, asking for my opinion, begging for my time. If I ignore them for days, they insist, even with pleading. Women and men, it doesn't matter; the result is always the same. Many want to be close to me, some almost fighting with others to achieve it.

The girlfriends I've had have been the same, submissive, clinging to me, jealous to absurd levels. They would go to great lengths to serve me, please me, and I simply accepted it because I didn't know any other way to relate.

I don't seek approval or attention from anyone; I don't need it. That's why people get frustrated when I don't dedicate the time they desire, but I let them go with total tranquility... and then they come back, more docile, more submissive than before. This dynamic amuses me.

The gifts started without me asking for them. Sometimes small things: a coffee, a beer, a paid meal, a detail. I have never paid for anything when I've been with any submissive. Normal among friends, right? But it escalated: clothes, shoes, concert tickets, even cash. People I barely knew gave me things because they wanted to, because it came from within.

I never asked for anything; I never demanded it. I simply accepted it because who rejects a gift? And over time, I got used to it. Plus, I started to enjoy it; I understood it was part of the deal, and if someone wants to be close to me, if they want my attention, it's a way to get it.

But I'm not a gigolo; I don't do this for money, but for fun. So, you can't buy me. What I enjoy is submis...