The new life with Master Martin

The sun had barely begun to filter through the heavy bedroom blinds when edumiso was already awake. He was not allowed to use an alarm clock; his body had learned to react to the slightest change in light and to the sound of Master Martin’s footsteps in the hallway. His new daily routine left no room for improvisation. Every minute of his existence was now structured under the Master’s strict discipline.

Edumiso silently got out of bed. The first thing he did was kneel on the carpet and place his forehead against the floor, adopting the posture of absolute submission. He waited patiently. A few minutes later, the door opened. Martin’s polished leather boots appeared in his field of vision.

“Good morning, edumiso,” said the Master’s deep voice, breaking the morning silence.

“Good morning, Master Martin,” the young man replied, keeping his forehead pressed to the floor. “Thank you for allowing me to wake up one more day in your service.”

“Get up. Bring the brush and the oils. It is time for your inspection and morning grooming.”

The daily training always began with the preparation of edumiso’s body. As Martin’s property, his appearance had to be impeccable. Edumiso walked with his back straight and his gaze lowered toward the bathroom, returning with a leather case containing the necessary implements. He knelt again before Martin, who was seated in a high armchair.

With precise, practiced movements, edumiso began to apply body oil to Martin’s arms and chest, massaging with the exact strength the Master demanded. It was not an erotic act, but an exercise in concentration and blind obedience. If edumiso hurried or applied too much pressure, the Master stopped the process with a simple snap of his fingers, forcing him to start from the beginning.

“Your left hand is trembling, edumiso,” Martin observed, without raising his voice. “An efficient submissive controls his nerves. If you cannot keep your pulse steady, I will have to use the restraint straps for breakfast. Understood?”

“Yes, Master. I am sorry. I will concentrate better,” edumiso replied, taking a deep breath and forcing his muscles to steady themselves. The mere idea of spending breakfast immobilized on the floor was incentive enough to perfect his technique.

Once the Master’s grooming was finished, posture training began. Martin stood and walked toward the living room, a spacious area decorated with dark wood and heavy furniture. Edumiso followed him on all fours, keeping his knees and palms firmly on the hardwood floor, a transition that at first had felt humiliating to him because of his past with female Mistresses, but which now formed part of his everyday identity.

“Today we will work on static endurance,” Martin announced, sitting at the dining table with a steaming cup of coffee and the newspaper. “You will place yourself in sphinx position beside...