President Ballard opened up the double doors to his office, feeling his shirt pull on his chest as his arms spread wide. The shirt fit him perfectly, but whenever he stretched out his arms, he could feel his broad chest buck up against the seams of his clothing. He didn’t mind, though. It made him feel strong and powerful. A reminder that he was better than most men, more forceful and in control. Discretely and subtly, the fact that even his clothing couldn’t contain him reinforced that. Nothing, however, was quite as good a reminder of his power as seeing the young boy waiting for him patiently. Elder Calder stood in the office, eyes fixed on the open door, eagerly and anxiously awaiting President Ballard’s arrival. Ballard could see his eyes widen when he saw him. It was a look he’d gotten many times--one he wasn’t ever tired of getting. The young boys he encountered often diminished a bit in his presence. After all, he was tall, deep voiced, bearded, and had the intense look of a man who did not dispense with unnecessary niceties. The boys would come to learn that he was actually a sensual, romantic, and considerate man, but he enjoyed the thrill of giving them that initial impression… and initial fantasy. “Take off your clothes,” Ballard ordered, wasting no time as he sealed the doors behind them. They closed with an audible bang that made Calder flinch a little. It had the resonance of a prison cell closing, only adding to the feeling that Calder was completely at his mercy. Elder Calder did his best to stay calm and collected. At least to appear that way. As he stripped off his clothes, he could see the steel gray eyes of the older man watching him closely. His handsome, weathered face didn’t reveal his thoughts. He couldn’t discern where he amused, excited, disappointed, or even interested. His stoic gaze left him feeling even more vulnerable than usual… even as he pulled off his garments, exposing his naked body. President Ballard stepped toward him, seeing his smooth skin catching the light. It was tightly wrapped over his athletic, narrow frame. His penis hung between his legs, taking on the first signs of excitement. It was still quite soft, but fattened like it was feeling the first rushes of blood to its core. Ballard ran his hand over the boy’s body, feeling his stomach, chest, and even his genitals. He enjoyed feeling a swelling cock in his hands and assessing the weight of its neighboring testicles. He loved how full the missionaries were inside their balls, desperate for release. Ballard’s mouth watered, desperate to know what the boy’s seed tasted like. He looked down at a shiny, silver bowl placed beside a bench in the room. An idea popped in his head and he knew that before they were don’t, he’d have to milk himself out a taste of Calder’s load...