Italian Master Fucks Slave with Huge Dildo

gay master slave
gay master slave

Italian Master Fucks Slave with Huge Dildo

A fierce Italian gay master takes charge of his slave in this BDSM scene. He drives a huge dildo deep into the slave’s ass with unrelenting force. The slave gay master dynamic reaches a peak of raw power

Marco, the Sicilian Enforcer – A Slave Gay Master Epic

Marco was a man of fire and stone, an Italian whose sinewy frame had been tempered by the harsh sun of Sicily. He ran a small vineyard on the island’s rugged coast, his hands stained with grape juice and earth, his voice a sharp command that drove workers through the harvest. By day, he was a vintner of fierce repute, a figure of authority whose glare could silence a room. But when dusk painted the vines in shadow and the workers retreated, Marco’s true dominion rose—a world where he stood as a gay master, his power as unrelenting as the Mediterranean waves crashing below.

Tonight, that power would erupt. In a stone cellar beneath the vineyard’s main house, its walls damp with age and its air thick with the scent of fermenting wine, Marco prepared to claim his slave. His name was Enzo—a wiry man with olive skin and eyes that flickered with a mix of fear and submission, kneeling on the cold floor. The tension between them was electric, a prelude to the absolute obedience Marco demanded and Enzo had no choice but to yield.

The Cellar of Control

Marco descended the narrow stairs, his boots thudding against the stone, the cellar door slamming shut with a hollow boom that reverberated through the space. He stopped a few paces from Enzo, his silhouette a fierce outline against the dim glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The Italian gay master shed his shirt, revealing a chest marked by labor and a body taut with restrained fury. A fierce Italian gay master takes charge of his slave in this BDSM scene, and Marco embodied that ferocity, his eyes locking onto Enzo with a predator’s focus.

“Up,” Marco barked, his Sicilian accent sharpening the word with menace. Enzo rose to his knees, his body trembling but compliant, his gaze fixed on the floor. The slave gay master dynamic crackled in the damp air—a peak of raw power waiting to ignite. Marco unbuckled his belt, the leather snapping free with a sound that echoed off the walls, and tossed it aside. From a wooden shelf in the corner, he retrieved a huge dildo—black, thick, and menacing—a tool of domination that gleamed in the lantern light.

“Face down,” Marco ordered, his voice a whip crack in the stillness. Enzo obeyed, pressing his chest to the cold stone floor, his ass raised in submission. The gay master stepped closer, the scent of wine and sweat clinging to him, a testament to the day spent ruling the vineyard. He held the dildo in one hand, its weight a silent promise of what was to come, and positioned himself behind Enzo, ready to drive his will into the slave’s very core.

The Unrelenting Assault

Marco gripped Enzo’s hips, his fingers digging into flesh with a force that left instant marks. “You’re mine,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that shook the cellar’s stillness. He drives a huge dildo deep into the slave’s ass with unrelenting force, and Marco did so without hesitation, aligning the massive tool and thrusting it forward in one brutal motion. Enzo cried out, the sound raw and piercing, his body jolting against the stone as the dildo buried itself deep, stretching him with no mercy, no pause—just fierce, unyielding power.

The gay master’s hands tightened, pulling Enzo back to meet each punishing drive, the dildo slamming in and out with a rhythm that echoed through the cellar. Enzo’s fingers clawed at the floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but he didn’t resist—couldn’t resist, bound by the required positions Marco had beaten into him. The slave gay master dynamic reached a peak of raw power, a fire stoked by Marco’s dominance and Enzo’s helpless surrender. “Take it,” Marco snarled, his thrusts unrelenting, each one a claim of total control.

The stone walls reverberated with the wet smack of the dildo and Enzo’s stifled cries, a brutal symphony that drowned out the distant hum of the vineyard above. Marco’s eyes burned with satisfaction, his chest heaving as he drove the tool deeper, his dominance a tangible force that filled the space. This was the oath of obedience Enzo had sworn—a vow to endure, to yield, to break beneath the Italian gay master’s will. Each thrust was a mark of ownership, a brand etched into flesh and stone.

A Master’s Triumph

Marco shifted, one hand sliding up to grip Enzo’s shoulder, pinning him harder to the floor. The gay master reveled in the control, his breath hot against the slave’s back as he drove the dildo deeper, his dominance a tidal wave that consumed Enzo whole. The cellar grew slick with sweat, the air thick with the musk of exertion and submission. The slave gay master scene pulsed with brutal energy, a storm that raged between them, fueled by Marco’s unrelenting power and Enzo’s capitulation.

“More,” Marco commanded, his voice a sharp command that spurred Enzo to brace himself, his legs quaking under the assault. The gay master adjusted his grip, widening his stance for leverage, and thrust the dildo with even greater force, each movement a testament to his total reign. Enzo’s cries turned to whimpers, his body shaking, but he held his position—submission was survival here, a lesson Marco had taught him night after night. The Italian gay master’s fingers left red welts, a physical echo of the ferocity within.

“You feel me,” Marco said, his tone thick with possession as he slammed the dildo home again. Enzo nodded weakly, his throat raw, his mind reeling from the intensity of the act. The gay master pulled the tool back slightly, only to drive it forward once more, testing the slave’s limits, pushing the slave gay master dynamic into a realm where pain and power fused into something overwhelming. The cellar seemed to close in, its damp walls a witness to their savage exchange.

A Deeper Mark

Time blurred as Enzo lost himself in the storm, the cold stone against his chest, the weight of Marco’s thrusts a constant anchor in the haze of submission. The gay master stood tall, his breath growing heavier, though his pace never wavered. He wanted more than penetration—he wanted to mark Enzo in a way that would linger, a claim as permanent as the vines rooted in his soil. With a sudden grunt, he pulled the dildo free, leaving Enzo gasping, his body slumped against the floor.

“Turn,” Marco barked, and Enzo obeyed, rolling onto his back, his chest heaving as he faced the gay master. Marco towered over him, the dildo still in hand, glistening with the effort of their brutal dance. The Italian gay master stepped closer, his boots discarded earlier, his bare feet planted firmly on the stone. He unfastened his trousers fully, letting them fall, and unleashed a hard stream of piss, aiming it at Enzo’s chest. The golden arc splattered against pale skin with a hiss, a liquid brand of my piss that underscored his dominance in a way no tool could.

Enzo flinched, the warmth a shock against his battered body, but he didn’t pull away. “You’re mine,” Marco said, his voice thick with satisfaction as the stream soaked Enzo’s shirt and ran down his sides. The slave gay master dynamic surged with raw control, the piss a final stroke in their night’s brutal canvas. Marco shook off the last drops, his stance relaxed but no less commanding, and tossed the dildo aside with a clatter.

The Final Breaking

Marco had one last test, a finale ultimate examination to shatter Enzo’s limits. He pointed to a wooden wine barrel in the cellar’s corner, its surface worn smooth by time. “Over it,” he commanded, his voice a blade in the silence. Enzo crawled, his body aching, and draped himself across the barrel, his chest pressed to the curve, his ass raised in submission. The gay master loomed closer, a vintner of control, his presence swallowing the lantern’s light.

Marco stepped behind Enzo, planting one hand on the slave’s back, the other gripping his hip. “You’ll take me now,” he said, his tone leaving no doubt. He aligned himself—not with the dildo this time, but with his own cock—and thrust forward, dry and brutal, driving into Enzo with a force that drew a scream from the slave’s throat. The gay slave’s body shuddered, his hands clawing at the barrel, but he held his position, his submission a testament to the slave gay master dynamic that consumed them.

Marco pounded relentlessly, each thrust a mark of total control, his eyes glinting with savage intent. “This is what you are,” he said, his voice a steady drumbeat. “Mine to command. Mine to break. Mine to keep.” Enzo’s cries faded to broken gasps, his body quivering with the weight of surrender. The cellar pulsed around them, its stone walls a silent witness to their raw, brutal scene.

A Bond Forged in Stone

When Marco finally pulled back, Enzo collapsed across the barrel, breathless and spent, his chest heaving against the smooth wood. The gay master stood over him, his trousers discarded, his presence as unyielding as the Sicilian cliffs outside. He reached down, brushing a rough hand against Enzo’s cheek—a rare tenderness that contrasted the night’s savagery. “You’ve taken it,” Marco murmured, his tone softer but no less commanding. “For now.”

Enzo nodded, his voice lost to exhaustion, his mind awash with the ferocity of their encounter. The slave gay master bond had been forged anew, tempered by Marco’s dildo, his thrusts, and his piss—a mark as permanent as the welts on his skin. Marco turned away, leaving Enzo sprawled on the barrel, a silent promise hanging in the air—there would be more nights, more tests, more chances to prove his worth under the gay master’s rule.

As the cellar fell silent, Enzo closed his eyes, the sting of Marco’s dominance still burning through him. He was owned, claimed, and utterly broken—a slave to an Italian gay master whose control was as fierce as the wine he crafted. In that surrender, he found a twisted peace, a purpose that would carry him through until the next surge of power.

Explore More Slave Gay Master Power

Craving more tales of absolute obedience and raw dominance? Dive into required positions, swear your oath of obedience, and submit to my piss and mine at Xgaymaster. The ultimate examination awaits.

Slave Takes Huge Dildo in Gay Cage Play

gay master slave
gay master slave

Slave Takes Huge Dildo in Gay Cage Play

POV - A gay slave submits to his master’s will in this intense BDSM video. Locked in a cock cage, he takes a huge 30cm dildo with total obedience. The slave gay master power shines through every thrust

My Master’s Domain – A Slave Gay Master POV

I kneel in the dim light of the room, the hardwood floor biting into my knees, the air heavy with the scent of leather and musk. My name doesn’t matter here—only his does. He’s Ethan, a man whose presence fills every corner of this space, a British ex-soldier turned gay master, his authority carved into every line of his chiseled frame. By day, he’s a trainer at a gym in London, barking orders at clients with a voice that demands compliance. But here, in this private chamber above his flat, I’m his slave, and his will is my world.

Tonight, that will weighs heavier than ever. I feel the cold steel of the cock cage locked around me, a constant reminder of his control, its tight grip a silent command I can’t escape. My heart pounds as he enters, his boots thudding against the floor, the door clicking shut behind him. A gay slave submits to his master’s will in this intense BDSM video, and that’s me—bound, caged, ready to take whatever he gives. The slave gay master power hums between us, a force I’ve surrendered to time and again, and I know tonight will test me like never before.

Beneath His Gaze

I keep my eyes down, trained on the floor as he approaches, his shadow stretching over me like a storm cloud. “Look at me,” Ethan orders, his British accent crisp and unyielding, slicing through the silence. I lift my gaze, meeting his steel-grey eyes, and feel a shiver run through me. He’s shirtless, his chest broad and scarred from years of discipline, his trousers still on but unbuttoned—a promise of what’s to come. In his hand, he holds it—a huge 30cm dildo, black and monstrous, its weight a challenge I can’t refuse.

“On your back,” he says, his voice a low growl that vibrates through my bones. I obey instantly, rolling onto the floor, the wood cool against my skin as I spread my legs, the cock cage clinking faintly with the movement. The slave gay master dynamic pulses in the air, a power that shines through every command he gives, every move I make. He steps closer, his socked feet brushing the edge of my vision, and I feel the weight of his presence settle over me like a blanket I can’t shake off. “You’re mine tonight,” he says, and I nod, my throat tight, knowing there’s no turning back.

He kneels beside me, the dildo in hand, and I catch the faint smirk on his lips—a sign he’s savoring this. “You’ll take it,” he says, not a question but a fact, as he positions the massive tool between my legs. I feel the cold tip press against me, and my breath hitches, the cock cage tightening as my body reacts despite itself. This is the absolute obedience he demands, the surrender I’ve pledged to him, and I brace myself for what’s coming.

The Thrust of Submission

He doesn’t ease me into it—Ethan never does. With one fierce push, he drives the dildo forward, the first few inches forcing their way inside me, stretching me with a burn that makes me gasp. “Take it,” he growls, his hand steady as he thrusts again, deeper this time, the 30cm length a relentless intruder I can’t resist. Locked in a cock cage, he takes a huge 30cm dildo with total obedience, and that’s me—gritting my teeth, my body trembling as I submit to his will, every thrust a testament to his power over me.

I feel it slide further, the pressure building as he works it in, his eyes locked on mine, watching every flinch, every shudder. “Good boy,” he murmurs, his voice a rare softness that cuts through the pain, fueling my need to please him. The slave gay master power shines through every thrust, a fire that burns brighter with each inch he forces into me. My hands claw at the floor, my legs spread wide in the required positions he’s trained me to hold—open, vulnerable, his to command.

The dildo sinks deeper, past what I thought I could take, and I cry out, the sound raw and unfiltered, echoing off the walls. “Quiet,” Ethan snaps, his free hand gripping my thigh, pinning me down as he drives it home, the full 30cm buried inside me. My vision blurs, the cock cage a cruel reminder of my captivity, but I don’t fight it—I can’t. This is his will, his rule, and I’m his slave, molded by the brutal intensity of his dominance. The gay master leans closer, his breath hot against my ear, and whispers, “You’re doing it for me.”

Under His Will

The room spins as he pulls the dildo back, only to slam it forward again, setting a rhythm that rocks my body against the floor. Each thrust is a hammer blow, a mark of his control that I feel in every muscle, every nerve. I’m locked in this cage, my cock straining uselessly against the steel, and the huge dildo fills me completely, a constant reminder of my place beneath him. The slave gay master dynamic pulses through me, a power that shines brighter with every grunt he makes, every command he gives.

“More,” he says, his voice a whip crack that spurs me to endure, to take it deeper even when I think I can’t. My legs quake, my breath comes in gasps, but I hold my position, my body an offering to his unrelenting force. “You’re mine,” Ethan growls, his hand tightening on my thigh, leaving red marks that will linger for days. The gay master shifts, adjusting his angle, and drives the dildo with even greater force, pushing me past my limits, into a realm where pain and submission blur into something overwhelming.

I feel the sweat bead on my brow, the floor slick beneath me, but his eyes keep me anchored—those grey depths that see every weakness, every surrender. “You feel that?” he asks, his tone thick with possession as he thrusts again, the dildo a brutal extension of his will. I nod, my voice lost to the intensity, my mind consumed by the slave gay master power that burns between us. This is the oath of obedience I swore to him—a vow to take it all, to break for him, to be his in every way.

A Deeper Surrender

Time fades as I lose myself in the rhythm, the huge dildo a constant invader, the cock cage a relentless jailer. Ethan stands now, towering over me, his socked feet planted firmly on either side of my hips, his hands working the dildo with a precision that only a soldier could muster. “Look at you,” he says, his voice a mix of pride and menace as he drives it deeper, the full length slamming into me with a force that makes me whimper. The gay master’s dominance is absolute, and I’m his canvas, painted with the sweat and strain of my submission.

“Stay,” he barks, pulling the dildo back halfway, leaving me gasping, my body aching for release I can’t have. He steps closer, one foot lifting to press against my chest, pinning me to the floor, the socked sole a soft but unyielding weight. The slave gay master power surges through this act, a bold display that leaves me helpless beneath him. “You’re my piss,” he says, a strange twist of words that makes my heart race, knowing what might come next. But tonight, it’s the dildo he wields, thrusting it back in with a grunt, reclaiming me entirely.

My body shakes, my mind fractures, but I hold on—for him. The cock cage bites harder as I strain against it, the dildo stretching me beyond reason, and yet I feel a strange pride in taking it, in being the slave he commands. Ethan’s eyes glint with satisfaction, his breath heavy as he works me over, pushing the slave gay master dynamic to a peak of raw power that consumes us both. “Good,” he murmurs, a rare reward that sends a shiver through me, even as the dildo drives home again.

The Final Trial

He has one last test, a finale ultimate examination to break me completely. “Up,” he orders, pulling the dildo free with a wet sound that leaves me hollow, my body trembling as I struggle to my knees. He points to a low bench against the wall, its wood scarred from past nights like this. “Over it,” he says, his voice a blade in the quiet, and I crawl, draping myself across it, my chest pressed to the surface, my ass raised for him, the cock cage dangling between my legs.

Ethan steps behind me, the dildo in hand, and I feel his presence loom—a gay master in total control. “You’ll take it all,” he says, his tone leaving no room for doubt, and he drives the 30cm length back into me, deeper than before, a thrust that rips a scream from my throat. The slave gay master power shines through every thrust, a brutal rhythm that rocks me against the bench, my body quaking under his will. “This is what you are,” he growls, his hand gripping my hip, forcing me to meet each punishing stroke. “Mine to command. Mine to break. Mine to keep.”

I’m lost in it—the pain, the submission, the power that binds us. My cries fade to gasps, my hands clawing at the bench, but I take it, every inch, because it’s for him. The gay master leans over me, his breath hot against my neck, and I feel the weight of his dominance crush me into the wood—a force I can’t resist, don’t want to resist. The room pulses around us, its walls a silent witness to our raw, intense scene, a BDSM video etched into my soul.

A Bond Forged in Steel

When he finally pulls the dildo free, I collapse across the bench, breathless and spent, my chest heaving against the scarred wood. Ethan stands over me, his trousers discarded, his presence as unyielding as the steel cage around my cock. He reaches down, brushing a rough hand against my cheek—a rare tenderness that cuts through the brutality of the night. “You’ve done it,” he murmurs, his tone softer but no less commanding. “For now.”

I nod, my voice gone, my mind awash with the intensity of our encounter. The slave gay master bond has been forged anew, tempered by the dildo, the cage, and his unrelenting will—a mark as permanent as the ache in my body. Ethan steps away, leaving me sprawled on the bench, a silent promise hanging in the air—there will be more nights, more tests, more chances to prove my worth under his rule.

As the room falls silent, I close my eyes, the sting of the dildo and the grip of the cage still pulsing through me. I’m owned, claimed, and utterly his—a gay slave to a master whose power is as fierce as the storms he’s weathered. In this surrender, I find a twisted peace, a purpose that will carry me until he calls me to submit again.

Explore More Slave Gay Master Power

Craving more tales of absolute obedience and raw dominance? Dive into required positions, swear your oath of obedience, and submit to my piss and mine at Xgaymaster. The ultimate examination awaits.