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Subject: A kept man in China, part 10 No sooner had I resolved that I would be unquestionably loyal to my young Chinese master and that he could do absolutely anything he wanted with me… he stood up and wordlessly walked out of my bedroom. I was left on my knees, wordless and wholly unsatisfied, alone in my room, and coated with his boycum. In the moment, what he wanted to do with me was to leave me behind. How desperately I’d wanted to lean forward and lick away each oozing pearl of yum seed as it emerged from the tip of his Chinese cock. How docilely I would have done it, if that had been his wish. But it was not. He was done with me. He called the shots; even I had, just a moment ago, accepted that I wanted him to call the shots. It was selfish of me to assume that my loyalty would always be pleasurable for me. Feeling numb, I listened as he slipped from my bedroom and headed to the bathroom. After a moment I heard a toilet flush, then footsteps, istanbul travesti and then the sound of him letting himself back into his bedroom. Then total silence. I was still kneeling, feeling his warm, creamy cum turn cold and solid on my hair skin; he was falling asleep, completely sated. Eventually I stood up and walked to the floor to ceiling window, and looked out in a daze at the view. The thunderstorm that had awakened me and added such dramatic energy to my sexual service to this young Chinese boy had now moved way off toward the horizon. I could only barely see the purplish flickers of lightning, but no thunder could be heard. With the bedside lamp still on and casting a weak glow in the room, I saw myself faintly reflected in the glass. I could see myself naked, still fully erect, covered in a Chinese boy’s seed, slightly stoop-shouldered from the deflated feeling of having been used and thrown away. However, istanbul travestileri much more clearly than that vague reflection of my real self, I saw what was beyond the window. Skyscrapers. Shanghai. China. POWER! In a brief, crystal-clear instant, I realized what I was. I was an American man who had felt the urge to leave America behind and come here to China, to serve at the beck and call of a young boy, to accept him as my master and superior, taking his young cock into my mouth and accepting myself as a pedophile. I thought through the collection of perceptions I had gathered on the way to being this moment. I thought about how China was rising and how America was falling. How Americans were now going to China as supplicants hoping for work, and work on the terms of the more confident Chinese. In my case, I’d given myself over completely to a young Chinese boy, to be his loyal possession. After that thought coursed through travesti istanbul my brain, I became aware that I was jacking my small American cock. Xiaobo might not have felt any desire to do it, but no rules had been imposed on me not to do it myself. My stroking sped up to a frenzied pace. I looked out the window. Skyscrapers. Shanghai. China. POWER. I looked at the reflection: cum-splattered American pedophile. Weakness. Defeat. The two mixed into one, as peanut butter mixes with chocolate to make a dessert. I shot three weak spurts of cum onto the window. It was either because I was drained of all energy, or because the orgasm that had resulted from my nearly traitorous thoughts had been so cripplingly strong, but I fell to my knees, thoroughly broken. Eye level with my milky white cum as it slowly trickled down the window pane, I did the only thing my spirit was capable of. Looking out the window at a cityscape far more powerful and grand than anything my own country could even dare to build, I leaned forward and licked the window glass completely clean of my own cum, and swallowed it all. Then I stood up, walked back to my bed, and fell face first onto it, falling into a deep, paralyzing sleep.