A Story of a Rubber Slave’s Forced Training

I followed Alan down the steps into the dungeon. We both wore jeans and t-shirts and I began to feel nervous as I saw the various rubber suits and restraints hanging from the walls, and the cage and sling and rubber bed in the semi-darkness of the room.

“This is where you’ll live for the next month or so – or however long it takes me to train you as my rubber man” he said slowly and deliberately.

I was beginning to have misgivings. Should I have really signed that piece of paper that gave him complete control over my body and mind? Would there be any way of going back on it if things became too hard?

“Take off your clothes” he said.

I pulled off the t-shirt and jeans and sneakers and he put them in a cardboard box.

“You won’t be needing them for a long, long time” he said with a grin, “so I’ll keep them for you.”

I could tell from that grin that he was getting off on the power I’d given him. I’d always begged him to completely strip me of my identity and to make me serve him as a total rubber man. Now I was going to find out what it would be like.

I stood there naked in front of him – not cold though, as the dungeon seemed comfortably warm. He gave my semi-hard cock a gentle tug and his grin disappeared.

“Get into the gear I’ve laid out for you,” he said, pointing at a pile of folded rubbers on a table at the side of the dungeon, “and wait for your master.”

With that he turned and carried the box up the stairs and shut the heavy door behind him.

I walked over to the table and unfolded the rubbers. There was a suit with an all-round zip, a pair of gloves and a hood with eye-holes and a zip mouth. I pulled on the suit, already feeling turned on by the soft, clinging feeling. Then I slipped the hood on, zipping it tightly down the back of my head and fastening the collar. Finally I stretched the gloves back up my forearms.

I knelt down on the floor with my hands behind my back and waited for Alan to return.

I waited for ages. It seemed like over an hour, though it was difficult to tell in the warm silence of the room. I began to feel the moistness of sweat in my gloves and from the warm breath inside the hood.

Still I waited. I wanted to feel my cock – now hot and very hard – through the rubber. But I knew I mustn’t.

Then I heard the door. I heard the slow footsteps on the stairs. I didn’t look up. I knew he’d want me to be completely subservient and that was the best way I could think of showing it right then.

I saw his boots on the floor in front of me: gleaming, tall, rubber riding boots that almost reached his knees and the rubber jeans that came out of the top of them.

“Look up at me, slave.”

I looked up and saw him. My beautiful rubber master. My perfect rubber master. Tucked into his jeans was a shiny, tight rubber t-shirt and over that was a rubber biker jacket. His eyes gleamed lovingly – yet almost viciously down at mine – and his face was completely without expression.

“Have you anything to say, slave?”

“I love you master.”

“How much?”

“More than anything in the world master.”

“Will you let me do anything I want to you?”

“Yes master.”

“Whether it’s to turn me on, to service me, or even just because I get a kick out of it?”

“Yes master.”

He paused. As I looked at him he stared back and unzipped the mouth of my hood. It was only then that I noticed he was wearing tight rubber gloves too. He pushed one of them into my mouth – a couple of fingers first – and then nearly the whole fist till I almost gagged on it. But I just sucked on it for all I was worth. Tasting the strange taste of the rubber and loving the fact that he was already – in a small way – inside me.

With his other hand he unzipped the jeans and pulled out his big, hard cock. The end gleamed with pre-cum and he slowly pulled my hood onto it. It filled my mouth. It tasted beautiful. I worshiped it with my tongue and my lips.

As I played with it, my face being pressed hard into his shiny jeans by him, he began to speak.

“I am going to change you from the half-decent slave you are into my complete rubber slave. You will be perfect by the time I’ve finished training you. You will have no life, no face, no personality – but you will be perfect. You will live here in the dungeon encased in rubber and you will exist to serve my cock, to take my piss and to do anything that turns me on, no matter how degrading. I will dress you in whatever rubber gear I want – as many layers of it as I want – and you will be sealed into it, completely turned on by it and by your discomfort and you will be unable to do anything about it.”

I sucked harder on his gorgeous cock. It was getting harder (just as mine was) as he talked and thought about what he could do to me and I wanted it to just explode and fill my throat with white hot spunk.

Then he pulled my head away from it and pointed my face up towards his.

“Understand slave?”

“Yes master.”

He attached a leash to the collar on my hood and pushed me down onto all fours. I followed him as he showed me round the dungeon. First he pointed to the sling with loads of restraints and chain and rope hanging off it.

“I will fuck you in this sling. I will keep you restrained in it. I will lay back in it and have you rim me and suck me off in it.”

Then he pointed at restraints hanging from the beams and coming out the walls by the floor.

“I will fix you in these and use you as I want. I will leave you stuck in them for hours while I go clubbing and I will fuck you senseless in them when I get back”

He looked down at me, smiling wickedly. Then he pointed to the bed with the rubber sheets on it.

“Sometimes I will let you sleep on this bed” then he pointed to a small wooden box nearby, “though mostly you will sleep padlocked inside that. You will of course sleep in full rubbers, possibly with a butt plug up you and your cock and balls trussed up. You will wear fist mitts too so that you can’t get at yourself. Understood?”

I nodded, turned on and frightened in equal amounts.

Alan pointed to a small cage that was just high enough to stand in.

“I will keep you in there much of the time” he said. Finally he tugged on my leash and pulled me over to a large kind of a shower cubicle in the far corner.

“And this is where you will clean up whenever I tell you.”

He slowly walked back across the dungeon to the sling. I crawled behind him, dying for him to let me lick those boots. God, I thought. I love my master. How could I want anything but to be completely reinvented as his rubber man?

“Stand up” he said pulling on the leash. I slowly got up and we stared into each others eyes.

“We’ll start with something gentle – and then your torment begins.”

He maneuvered me back into the sling and tied the loose end of the leash to one of the chains that it hung from. He fastened my wrists and ankles tightly into the straps that hung from the chains and padlocked chains around my body and through the rings in my collar until I was securely fastened into the sling. He smiled as he pulled open the zip of my suit around my arse. He pulled his cock out again and smeared it with KY. I shuddered and groaned as he slowly pressed it into my crack, the muffled noises from my hood making Alan smile. Soon his cock was completely in and the intense, almost painful feeling made me heat up inside my suit. Alan leant forward slightly, put his hands over my shoulders and gently, ever so slowly, rocked my helpless, shiny rubber body full of tingling nerves back and forth onto him. He kept it slow for ages and ages as I sweated and whimpered and gazed out of my hood into his stern, beautiful eyes.

As he got faster and faster I looked at the sweat breaking out on him, my gorgeous, perfect rubber sadist. He let out a huge grunt as he finally shot his load into me and I shook violently with him. My cock was pressed hard against the inside of my clinging; wet rubbers and felt like it might just explode at any moment. I whimpered with anticipation.

Alan cleaned his cock off on a towel and put it back in his jeans. Then he zipped my suit back up and stood next to me, running his gloved hands all over my body while studying the way he could make me shudder with delight at the slightest touch.

“Did you enjoy that, slave?” he asked eventually.

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“And what do you want now? Tell me honestly”

“I want to come off, master.”

“Well you can’t. Not yet. You’re going to have to learn that the satisfaction of your cock means nothing. When you are finally my rubberman, you’ll want nothing more than to exist – sealed up in rubber – to serve my cock. You’ll forget that you’ve even got a cock of your own. Just as you’ll forget what it’s like not to wear rubber. What it’s like not to sleep in a box. What it’s like not to have a hood covering your head.”

“Yes master.”

“So what shall I do with you?” he said to himself after a pause, and continued feeling his way all over my suit, making sure he kept returning to my crotch so that I’d repeatedly arch up into all my restraints with a massive groan.

“I think we ought to start your training with some piss confinement, slave. What do you think?”

“Whatever pleases you master.”

“That’s better.” he said, pleased with my response.

One by one he took off the straps and chains and told me to stand up.

“Take the hood off” he said as he walked across to a rail with loads of suits, sleep sacks and straight jackets hanging from it.

As I pulled off the hood, streams of sweat ran from my hair and down my face. I looked at Alan. He held up a suit in front of me. It was made from heavy rubber and had feet and gloves as part of it. It also had a hood on it which had no eye-holes or mouth, but a number of tubes running from a raised area where the face should have been. A couple of them were small, thin tubes, another was a thick, corrugated one. There was a long dry-zip running up the back of the suit and I realized that it would be completely watertight.

“Shall I take this suit off first master?” I asked, as it was fairly hot just wearing the one layer.

“No,” he said, “and never speak unless I tell you to. Okay?”

I nodded meekly. Clearly I wouldn’t be allowed to suggest ways of making things easier on me in future.

“Get into it, slave.” he said, putting it on the floor.

I stepped into its feet and pulled the legs up. Then I found the arms and pushed my gloved hands deep down into them till they found the fingers at the end. It was a heavy suit, much thicker than the one I already had on and straight away I began to feel hot in it. Finally I pulled the head section back over my sweating scalp and everything disappeared into blackness. I could hear my breathing inside the small hollow space where all the tubes came in. The sound of the outside world was muffled and distant. I could hear Alan beginning to close the stiff, brass zip on the back of the suit.

I suddenly felt really claustrophobic and helpless. He really did have total control over me. There was nothing I could do. Although I felt frightened, my cock became rigid with excitement at being sealed up in a suit that was clearly designed to have people piss into it. I was surrendering to my master every last shred of dignity so that he could use me as some kind of human urinal. Presumably he needed a piss now, I thought. When the zip was fully shut and I was properly enclosed in my hot, heavy, rubber prison, Alan began to rub me all over again.

“You look beautiful, my slave. I might keep you in this a lot.”

It turned me on just knowing that it was turning him on doing such a degrading, sadistic thing to me.

“Come with me, slave.” he said and began to walk my unsteady body over to another part of the dungeon.

He pushed me down onto the floor and secured my feet with a pair of ankle-cuffs. Then I realized I was in the cage, because he pulled my arms between the bars and handcuffed them on the other side. Then he shut the cage door and I heard the metallic click of a padlock.

His voice was right next to the total blackness of my hood.

“I don’t need to piss right now,” he said, “but I probably will later. So you’ll be ready. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Good slave. You’d better get used to this kind of thing too, because this is how you’ll spend most of your waking hours: trussed up in rubber, waiting to serve me – either as my urinal, my cocksucker or my fuck piece.”

And then he was gone.

For hours there was just silence around me. All I could hear was the noises my suits made rubbing against each other and the slick rippling of the inner suit on my drenched body. My breathing sounded loud, filling the hot, heavy hood with its wetness. Although it was fairly comfortable to be sat down, my arms and legs ached with the positions they’d been secured in. More hours passed. God knows how many – maybe four or five.

Then I heard the door again and the boots coming down the steps. They seemed to take forever to cross the dungeon to me. My heart raced at the idea of being stuck in all this rubber and Alan filling it with his piss. My cock pressed itself against the suit.

Alan said nothing. I heard his jeans unzipping though and felt the thick, corrugated tube being lifted slightly.

There was a sudden rushing noise and then my master’s steaming hot piss gushed into my hood. Some poured into my open mouth, more splashed all over my face, neck and the shoulders of my inner suit. Some of it ran down inside against my skin, some outside over the shiny rubber. All of it showered into the heavy suit though: the rubber container that Alan had chained to the inside of the cage.

This was wonderful. Being put in total rubber enclosure (that I couldn’t possibly get out of) by the man I worshiped and having him fill up my suit with his piss. I almost came off as it rushed over me and into me.

Soon – and without a word – he was gone again and I was left in the silence once more. As well the sounds of my rubbers, I could now sense the atmosphere of this enclosed world. It reeked of piss and of sweat and of rubber. It filled the hood and my nostrils. I would have to learn to love this smell, I thought, as Alan would imprison me with it again and again.

After another hour or so – I think – he came back again. Once more he took a mighty piss down the tube. I almost laughed with pleasure at how good it made me feel to be showered by his fluids and to be contained in them like this. I wondered what I must look like to my master; this pathetic rubber figure chained up at his boots – totally faceless – with this tube that runs into the hood of his victim.

God, I loved him for doing this to me.

When he’d finished, I heard his rubber jeans creak softly as he crouched down beside me. He stroked my head.

“Good slave,” he said.

“You really are a good slave. You’ve been in that suit for quite a few hours now: you’re doing well. Now do you want me to let you out now or shall I shall I keep you in it for a while longer and do whatever I want for the rest of the evening?”

“Whatever you want, master” I said weakly into the hood.

“Good slave.” he said, stroking my head again and left me.

Soon after he’d gone, I found I couldn’t hold my own bladder any longer and pissed myself. Hot urine gushed up the inside of my suit, adding to the mess of sweat and pre-cum that already stuck it to my skin. Suddenly I felt like I wanted to cry. How could I do this to myself? Did I really want to live like this? Forever?

But I’d wanted this. Desperately. I’d wanted to become someone else – to become Alan’s rubber man. It was the greatest gift I could give him. It was the way I wanted to show how complete my love for him – my worship of him – was. To lose myself and become his object.

When he came back some time later he didn’t piss into my suit again, which I was expecting him to. He unchained me and led me to the shower cubicle. I stayed knelt down as he stood behind me and unzipped the suit.

“Wash and get naked” he said and shut the frosted glass door behind him before I could look up. As I pulled the suits off me, piss ran out into the shower tray, leaking from zips, falling out of the rubber limbs and streaming from my hair.

I rinsed the suits out and cleaned myself thoroughly. Then I hung the rubbers up on hangers just outside the cubicle. When I was completely dry I walked back out, naked, into the main part of the dungeon.

Alan lay on the bed, still in his rubber jeans and biker jacket, though he’d taken the t-shirt off. God, he was gorgeous. He looked every inch the master and I desperately wanted to suck him dry right there and then.

He held a cigarette in his right gloved hand and patted the shiny, black sheet with his left.

“Sit here, slave.” he said.

I sat naked on the rubber sheet. It felt good against my arse – all soft and horny. I looked at him – deep into his eyes as he continued to smoke and played with my hard cock and balls with his gloved hand.

“That feel good, slave?” he asked as he listened to my shallow, fast breathing.

“Yes master.”

“Want to come off now?”

“God yes, master.”

He smiled sadistically, knowing that I was at the point of just shooting my load all over his gorgeous, shiny gear.

“Well you’re going to have to do some good work with your tongue first. You can start with my boots.”

I licked those boots so hard, so lovingly. I worshiped them just like I worshiped his jeans and his jacket: his whole uniform – everything that made him look like the perfect sadistic master he was – the whole, shiny rubber uniform. I covered the jeans with my loving tongue too. The rubber tasted like sex. If I glanced up occasionally I’d see Alan looking at me, smiling. He knew just how much he controlled me – how much this training would allow him to do, just how far he could go. I knew from the smile that he was going to take me to hell and back” and he was going to get a pervy kick out of every bit of it.

He pulled me up towards him and shoved my face deep into his armpit and pulled the jacket over my head. I licked and licked while I felt his rubber gloves moving over my body, playing with my buttocks and my crack. Then I felt him pull my hands behind my back and snap handcuffs onto them.

He pulled me into a kneeling position next him and took his sweaty cock from out of the shiny, black jeans. I licked a load of pre-cum off the end of it and then felt his gloves tightening their grip on my head and him forcing my mouth deep over its length. Then he just kept pushing my head up and down, faster and faster and rougher and rougher on his cock until it shot a huge stream of hot, bitter cum down my throat.

He kept my face pressed down on it for a few minutes more as I drank up each last bit of gism that seeped from it.

“And now it’s your turn to come off slave,” he said and lay me back onto my restrained arms, wrapping his rubber-clad body around me. One glove moved over my mouth and pressed it firmly shut, while the other furiously wanked me off.

He whispered frantically into my ear between biting and kissing my neck.

“You’re going to wish you’d never signed that contract” I’m going to take you apart” experiment on your body” see what limits I can take you to” completely degrade you” torture you till you cry” I’m going to take away your identity, so you’re my nobody” my rubber slave”

I screamed into Alan’s glove as my cum sprayed up my chest and my body arched into his. I shook with ecstasy as he continued rubbing my cock slowly and gently till it had run out of gism.

I kissed his jacket and his nipples and his cock while he undid my handcuffs, so grateful he had let me come off.

He wiped up my spilt cum with his gloved hands and pushed them into my mouth so that I ate every last bit of my own load – the beautiful taste of rubber and cum.

“Thank you master. I love you.”

“Lick my boots,” he said, ignoring me.

Straight away, I rushed down to them and licked them with all the love I could muster. After a while he pulled me back up so that I lay next to him and we shared a cigarette silently. And while I had the ciggy, his rubber fingers played gently with my nipples till I had a raging hard-on again.

He’d obviously meant for me to get that hard-on because at that point he said “Get into that suit,” and pointed to one that hung near the bed. Obediently I slipped my body into it, finding that the zip was at the back and finished down between my legs. There was no zip or panel at the front. Alan zipped it up for me and played with the huge erection that pressed up against the inside of the front of the suit.

“It’s going to be hard for you in that suit tonight isn’t it, slave” he said, grinning cruelly at me. He strapped long fist-mitts onto me as well so that I had no chance of working the erection off.

“To the box, slave,” he said and pushed me onto all fours.

I crawled over to it as he walked beside me, and then I climbed into it.

He knelt down next to me and pulled out a rubber blindfold from inside the box. As he put it on me, I made sure the last thing I could see was his beautiful, cruel eyes. Then all was darkness.

“Say goodnight to your master’s cock, slave.” he said pulling my face slowly forward into his crotch.

I kissed and licked and sucked on it until it was hard, and he began to push my face into it again and again. Finally with a huge grunt he came in my mouth. I swallowed it and licked the remains off his knob.

His gloves cupped my face as he kissed my forehead.

“This is nothing compared to what happens tomorrow. Goodnight slave.” he said after a while.

“Goodnight master.” I replied.

He pushed me down into the rubber sheeting and closed the lid of the wooden box, securing it with two heavy padlocks and leaving me in the sweaty, dark silence – alone with my fears, my anticipation and my painful hard-on.

I was awake long before Alan came and unlocked the wooden box I’d slept in. The inside of my suit was drenched in sweat, and a huge load of pre-cum was smeared all around my cock which had refused to soften during the night. It had rubbed painfully up against my belly and the wet rubber of the suit, making it harder, making it leak more and more pre-cum as I tried to ignore it, my hands pathetically useless in the constricting, sweaty fist-mitts strapped onto my arms. It had been difficult to sleep at all in the stuffy confines of the box, my blindfolded head laid on an inflated rubber pillow and my soaking rubber-clad body curled up in a kind of fetal position. It was hot and uncomfortable and I still felt both frightened and excited by what might await me at the hands of my master now that I’d given him complete control over me.

I heard Alan undoing the padlocks that held the lid of the box shut and lifting it back. Straight away I could feel cooler, fresher air sweeping over my hot, wet body. He lifted me into a sitting position and took off my blindfold. As my eyes focused I could see him smiling at me out of a rubber hangman’s hood. The rest of his body was covered in a beautifully tight, shiny suit and gloves and waders. His gorgeous cock hung semi-hard from a small unzipped section of the suit, gleaming with pre-cum.

“Good morning, slave.”

“Good morning, master.”

“Get your mouth round my cock, slave” he said suddenly and sternly.

I quickly opened my mouth as he leaned forward over me while I still sat in the box. No sooner had my lips closed around his cock than it gushed a huge, hot wall of piss into my throat. I almost choked as it splashed around my mouth and filled it with a bitter, steamy taste. Alan’s gloves kept my head pressed firmly into his rubber crotch where he wanted it.

As I spluttered and gagged, trying to swallow as much of his juice as I could, it began pouring out of the sides of my mouth and down my suit. He pressed my head further down on his sweaty, rubbery knob as I continued drinking and choking on his piss.

He stopped and pulled his cock from my mouth, the smile back on his face, his eyes gleaming from inside the hangman’s hood. Then another burst of piss showered out, this time spraying my face and soaking my hair. Some stung my eyes, while more ran down into my mouth.

I’d never really liked the taste of piss – not unless it was pretty weak after a night on the booze – but I still worshiped it and wanted to taste it and drink it and be covered in it because it was HIS. It was like some fantastically obscene communion as I drank from his body, drank his waste – just to prove how much I loved him.

While I sat there, my head soaked in his hot piss, he picked up a hood from the floor next to him and zipped it tightly onto my head, buckling its collar roughly into place. It had no eye holes at all and fitted me perfectly – so tightly, filling my nostrils with the scent of rubber again and sealing in all that piss around my head and in my hair. It did, however, have a large open space for the mouth – much larger than the usual slits or zips.

“Are you really sweaty in that suit, slave?” he asked.

“Yes master, soaking.”

“Good” And you’re still hard from last night?”

“Yes master.”

“Let me feel” he said and began to grope my crotch really roughly, making me squirm with pleasure and bursts of agony as he played. This went on for a few minutes till I could hardly bear it and wanted to scream for him to stop when suddenly his hand was gone. A few seconds later I felt a leash being attached to my collar. He pulled me to my feet and walked me a few feet across the dungeon. I walked hesitantly and awkwardly, partly because of the lack of sight, partly because of the rubbing of my hard-on inside my suit.

Alan pushed me face down onto the bed while he – I think – sat down or laid down beside me, unzipping my backside and forcing a lubricated, rubber-gloved hand up into my crack.

“I want you to rub yourself off against the bed, slave.” he said, moving a finger around deep inside my arse. I moaned and whimpered and squirmed as it tingled and burned inside me.

With the fist-mitts on, it was difficult to make any kind of proper grip on the bed, but soon my tired, sweating body, cocooned in skintight rubber, was fucking the rubber sheets for all it was worth, breathing fast and shallow as I tried to reach orgasm without actually pissing myself at the same time.

Suddenly the muscles in my backside tightened round Alan’s fingers and my whole body seemed to go into spasm and I cried out loud a hoarse, wordless cry as hot cum splattered and shot up the inside of my suit. My cock seemed white hot and my limbs shook uncontrollably. My voice fell away and I was left, drenched and whimpering in the tight, wet void of my rubbers. My master slowly pulled out his fingers from my crack and gently stroked my back and my head. I could feel his rubber moving softly on mine and I loved him for putting me through such exquisite torment to pleasure the two of us.

“Good slave” he whispered against my hood, “good slave.”

He stroked me a while longer and then turned me over onto my back. I lay there, blinded and expectant as I heard his waders creaking next to me and felt his beautiful, suited body moving somewhere above mine.

Then he knelt down right over my face, one wader jamming in on either side of my head – his calves held my useless arms down on the bed – and unzipped the arse of his suit. In no time he had settled his crack down onto the opening in my hood. Rubbery sweat from his back and his crotch poured into my mouth.

“Rim me, slave! Rim me for all you’re fuckin? worth!” he shouted, wriggling his arse further into my face. I licked and licked, barely able to breathe underneath him, tasting his sweat and tasting his crack, thinking I was the luckiest man alive to have him – all rubbered up – shifting around on my face, lucky bastard slave that I am.

I could hear him moaning and grunting as I worked at his crack and soon his arms were reaching back and toying with my nipples – making me go at him even more frantically as my cock hardened once more.

Eventually he lifted himself off and I heard him playing with his zip.

“Mmmmm. Good slave.” he said as his body shifted somewhere above me. Then he settled down onto me again but a bit further back and I tasted a dangling strand of pre-cum that swung into my mouth.

“And now – as a reward for being so good you can have your breakfast. Do you want me to give you your breakfast, slave?”

“Please master.”

“Well here it comes” he said viciously and rammed his cock deep into my mouth. I just lay there as he fucked my face, harder and harder and quicker and quicker. I moved my fist-mitts up behind him and stroked his buttocks as he plunged in and out of my throat.

“Aagh!” he suddenly shouted and, with a final jolt, shot a wave of hot spunk into me. I stayed still as he continued to move up and down on my face, slower and slower until he was exhausted and I had taken every last drop of his wonderful gism down.

After a while he got up off me and I heard him zipping his suit back up.

He pulled on my leash and helped move me up off the bed. I stood there completely disorientated in the blackness of the hood, still tasting his cum in my mouth as he slowly fingered my suit, playing with my nipples and running his gloves around my body, making me shudder with pleasure. Soon his hands reached the bulge of my cock and he rubbed it around, making it glide through the mess of spunk and sweat inside my suit. It was rock hard again and ached with every motion he made.

“It feels a bit messy in there, slave” he said, taunting me.

“Yes master. It is.” I replied feebly.

He continued playing with the bulge for a while, probably studying the way my mouth twitched as he turned it on more and more.

“Come with me” he said after a while and began to lead me across the dungeon. When we stopped he took the leash off my collar and began fixing restraints to my ankles, making sure my legs were spread slightly open. Then he lifted my arms up above me one at a time and, with them still enclosed in the fist-mitts secured them to some thick, padded restraints that were hanging from the ceiling on thick, heavy chains.

Then he unzipped my hood and took it off, putting aside on a table nearby. He came and stood in front of me, bringing a fearsome looking cat-and-nine-tails with him. He dragged its mass of rubber flails across one of his gloves, not taking his eyes off my face.

“I want to see your face while I do this” he said, a cruel smile appearing beneath the hangman’s hood and his beautiful eyes glinting at the pleasure he was about to have.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, slave” he said, “but I’m going to give you a fucking good whipping.” He tenderly touched the side of my soaking face with his glove.

“But you’ve got to learn to take any torture I decide to give you” no matter how severe. And also I’m just going to get a big turn-on out of giving you the most extreme sensations that you never even knew existed – and that you never thought you could bear.”

He began to run the whip across my chest and then my back and my arse as he walked around me. Soon his beautiful, suited figure was back in front of me.

“And if you’re wondering why I’ve not stripped you for this, it’s because it’s going to sting even more through all the rubber and sweat. Now be brave and take this like the perfect slave you want me to turn you into”

With that he started whipping my rubber-clad body, slowly at first, with intensely hot, stinging blows. At first I just made grunting noises and startled whimpers, but as the frequency and viciousness of the lashes increased I began to scream out loud. Not for mercy. Not for him to stop. But just because it was the only thing I could do.

He beat me all over: on my arse, up my back, on my nipples and on my crotch. Tears of agony streamed from my eyes as my body swung violently in the restraints, jumping at the explosions of pain that came with each blow. Through my tears I saw him stood in front of me in his suit and waders, swinging the lash across my hard-on, gritting his teeth, his eyes burning deep into mine. After a while – along while – he stopped and my exhausted body hung limp in front of him as I cried uncontrollably at the washes of painful heat that spread out inside my suit. He put the whip away on the table and came back to me. I wanted him to kiss me but he just looked at the restraints and began to undo them one by one. When he’d taken them all off I just stood there. He put one of his gloved hands on top of my head and pushed me down onto my knees.

“Good slave” he said as he undid the zip around his crotch and pulled out a huge, hard cock, streaming with pre-cum.

“Good slave” he kept repeating as he pushed my face onto it.

I sobbed as I sucked on him, realizing just how complete an experience he was going to make this for me. That pain was for real but he was doing it because I’d wanted to go through anything for him. He was just making sure I did go through everything for him.

His body jolted as he came in my mouth: warm, comforting spurts that told me he was rewarding me for the pain I’d gone through. The spunk kept coming – loads of it streaming in and rolling over my tongue and into the corners of my mouth. He kept my face pressed into his crotch for a while and then pulled me away so that I could look up at his beautiful, sadistic body and face.

The suit was skintight on him, as were the gloves, and his eyes were so intense they looked almost lit-up inside his hood. He smiled down at me.

“You did well, slave” he said, running a glove through my sodden hair, “but you reek of piss.” He patted my head and walked away to the rail with all the suits and sleep sacks hung from it. He spoke as he rummaged through the gear.

“I’m going out shopping for a few hours so I’m going to have to leave you on your own and I don’t want you playing with yourself and trying to satisfy your own cock when you should be thinking of me”

He walked back over to me carrying a heavy rubber straight jacket.

“Stand up, slave.”

I stood up and held out my arms, still sheathed in the tight fist-mitts, as he held up the straight jacket and put it onto me, feeding my arms deep into its long sleeves. Straight away the thickness of it heated me up even more than I already was and sweat began rolling from my hair, bringing the remains of my master’s piss with it.

He walked round behind me and zipped it up. Then before doing up all the straps, he opened the arse of my suit and pushed a heavily lubricated vibrator up it. I groaned as it made its way deep inside me and he strapped it into place with a tight crotch harness that it was attached to. Then he fastened all the straps on the straight jacket extremely tightly, padlocking each of them shut. He did the same for the straps that went between my legs and the buckles and fastenings on the end of the sleeves. Finally he firmly locked up the stiff rubber collar of the straight jacket and walked round in front of me.

The constriction was making me ache already: this might well be a very long few hours for me, I thought.

Alan walked me over to the cage and sat me down in it, locking the door of it as he left. Then he knelt down next to me and I gazed deep into the eyes that sparkled from inside the hangman’s hood as he smiled at me.

He held up a small plastic device with a button on it.

“Oh, and this is how I’m going to make sure you’re thinking of me while I’m away” he said and pressed the button down.

The vibrator started up and my body jolted as my hard-on sprang up against the inside of my suit. I moaned. Then it stopped again.

“Now stay there, won’t you” he said with the cruelest smile on his beautiful face. God I loved him for reducing me to this. God I loved him for having this much control over me. I nuzzled my face up to the gloved hand that held one of the bars in front of me and he watched, smiling at his pathetic and willing victim, as I kissed and licked it for minute after minute.

He leaned his face into the bars and kissed me with a long, tender kiss.

Then without a word he got up, turned around and left me, switching the lights out as he closed the cellar door behind him.

I lost track of time really, totally disorientated by the dark and the silence and aching from the severity of the straight jacket’s tightness and the soreness of my whip marks in the clammy wetness of my suit.

But after some long while I heard what I thought was the main door to the house shutting as he left.

The vibrator buzzed and throbbed as it burst into life, rubbing up against my prostate. I pictured Alan in his suit and waders brandishing the whip – and straight away I let out a huge, agonized moan as a fresh load of hot cum sprayed up the inside of my rubbers, my body squirming around in the cramping, padlocked security of the straight jacket.

I couldn’t believe how much pain I was in from just being slumped there in the cage for so long. My skin felt sore and still smarted in the dampness of my suit from the vicious beating from Alan’s cat-and-nine-tails. My chest and arms ached with the constriction of the straight jacket, padlocked so tightly onto my helpless body and my arse ached from the thick vibrator strapped into it. I sat there for hour after hour, sweating in the darkness, drinking the streams that rolled down my face to try and quench my dry throat. I leaned my temples against the cold steel of the cage bars to cool them down and shifted uncomfortably in my gism and all the other mess that was building up in my suit.

I thought I heard the distant noise of the front door as he returned but he didn’t come down to the dungeon for another two hours or so. I had no idea of what time it might be: there would be no daylight – only the light and dark that he decided I should have.

Finally I heard the heavy door to the dungeon being unlocked and his boots coming down the steps once he’d shut it behind him. The lights came on and I squinted for some time, trying to adjust after such a long period of total darkness. When I was eventually able to see, I found that he was stood near the cage just staring at my pathetic, hunched form. He was wearing the one-piece suit and waders again, with gloves and the rubber hangman’s hood completing his outfit. He looked so severe and so powerful – I smiled weakly at his beautiful, perfect, masterful figure.

“How are you, slave?” he asked after a long silence.

“Aching, master.” I replied.

He just smiled with an obvious satisfaction.

Then he unlocked the cage and lifted me into a standing position and helped me to walk slowly towards the restraints that hung from the ceiling. This time he didn’t reach for the wrist restraints but let down some wider ankle restraints on another set of chains.

“Lie down on your back, slave.” he said, and I clumsily made my way down onto the floor, still in my suit and straight jacket.

“Put your feet up in the air” he said sternly.

I did so, and he secured my ankles in the restraints. Then he went over to the wall and used a pulley to raise them further and further up until I was basically resting my shoulders and upper back on the floor, my legs strained and dangling from up near his chest. He walked over to the table and fetched the riding crop. He stood virtually over my face, looking into my terrified eyes as he tapped the crop against the open palm of his glove.

“I never want to hear you tell me you’re aching, slave” he said angrily and lashed the crop across my bollocks. I screamed out loud with the intensity of the pain and my straight jacketed torso swung wildly with the shock.

“I want only to hear you worshiping me! Understand?” he said as he whipped my scrotum again. I screamed once more.

“I said do you understand, slave?” he shouted and swung the crop right across my cock.

“Yes master!” I managed to cry back before screaming with the stinging of the blow through the drenched suit on my tender flesh.

He walked around behind me and flogged my arse with all his might. My muscles clenched on the vibrator and I lurched pathetically around on my shoulders, trying to avoid the worst of the beating. He wouldn’t let me avoid it though, and just kept beating me and beating me till he could hear how hard I was crying and that my body was so exhausted it just hung limp and shook with each new blow.

He stopped and walked around to stand over my face again, pointing the crop down and rubbing my face with it.

“Are you sorry, slave?”

“Yes master, I’m sorry. I love you.” I replied, sobbing.

“Thank me for punishing you then”

“Thank you master.” I said quietly and reverently.

“Good slave” he said, beginning to smile again, “I punish you to teach you a lesson and you must thank me for teaching you, mustn’t you slave?”

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“Now lick my waders, slave”

Although it was difficult to move myself in the straight jacket, I managed to lean my head over and set my tongue to work on the heavy, industrial rubber of my master’s waders. My dangling body – a shiny, black mass of straps and padlocks twitched and swung as I tried to keep my face leaned into his boots.

After a while he knelt down over me and just felt me through the straight jacket, feeling how tight it was on me, rattling all the padlocks, getting turned-on at how trussed up I was and slowly moving his gloved hand up to massage my sore cock. I whimpered and shivered at the mixture of pain and relief he gave me and wanted to shout out how much I loved him – but I knew I must keep silent unless he told me to speak.

Then, still knelt over me, Alan undid the zip of his suit so that just his crack was showing and, without a word, lowered himself down onto my face.

I rimmed him deep and hard, showing how good a slave I could be – hardly able to draw breath most of the time, gasping frantically at the hot, sweaty air trapped inside his suit. My tongue flicked around inside his crack while he used his mouth to suck on – and play with – my genitals even though they were imprisoned in my skintight rubbers.

I heard him moaning as I kept on rimming him, and I kept letting out small whimpers as he gently bit on my nads through the suit.

Then he moved himself off me and walked off to the chains and pulley at the wall. As he pulled on the chains my body was slowly lifted clear of the floor altogether, and he kept working at the pulley for a while, zipped his backside up again whilst unzipping his cock and then walked back over to me.

I dangled upside-down, completely helpless in the straight jacket with his wet, hard cock dribbling a long strand of pre-cum right in front of my mouth. His rubber gloves stroked my hair for a moment and then grabbed my head tightly and plunged it down onto his shaft.

He pumped my head back and forth onto its length as I gagged and spluttered. His motions became quicker and I heard him sighing and groaning as he came closer and closer to orgasm.

He stopped suddenly as he groaned really loudly, keeping my head pressed absolutely into his suit – the whole length of his cock filling my mouth. Then it just exploded into my throat with a huge wash of hot cum. I almost choked on it and tried to struggle my way free, but he just held me there and a few seconds later another burst arrived. A third followed soon after with a final, exhausted jolt and he slowly relaxed his grip.

As I swallowed all that was left, he pulled up a chair in front of me and found a cigarette on the table by the wall. He lit it and sat down, smoking it as he calmed down – staring at the sight of me hanging upside-down in front of him in a suit and straight jacket, licking the remains of his gism from my lips.

He smiled as he smoked and we gazed at each other in complete silence: him, probably enjoying his handiwork at total restraint – and me, worshiping him for every way he could use me as his rubber slave.

He put down the cigarette in an ashtray for a moment and slowly lowered my ankles to a position where he could safely undo the restraints. He pulled me up by the heavy, steel D-ring on the front of the straight jacket’s collar and dragged me over to the chair. He made me kneel between his legs and lick his sagging, juicy cock while he continued smoking, and with his free hand he ruffled and stroked my messy, wet hair.

After a while he moved me back onto the floor so that I lay on my back in front of the chair. It was a bit uncomfortable because of the tight strapping and buckles and padlocks down the back of the straight jacket but it still felt like a resting position. Alan zipped up his suit again and sat back down, prizing my legs apart with his waders. He lit another cigarette and sat there in complete silence watching me, grinding my crotch around with both his boots. I moaned and whimpered, looking up at him occasionally to see his satisfied grin beaming from beneath the hangman’s hood.

“You’ve had that suit on since last night, haven’t you slave?”

“Yes master.”

“Are you hot in it?”

“Yes master.”

“And messy?”

“Yes master.”

“Good. I want you to get used to feeling like that.”

He continued massaging my knob and balls with his waders for a while and then lifted up the radio-control device for the vibrator that was still strapped to me.

“I think it’s about time you messed up your suit a bit more” he said, and pressed the button down as his waders played harder and harder with my tackle.

I grunted and groaned as my arse tightened and twitched on the vibrator. I couldn’t hold it any longer: my eyes shut, my whole body arched up from the floor and hot, painful gism shot up my belly.

After I had stopped groaning and settled down into a limp, rubber body on the dungeon floor again my master stood up and turned me over. As he slowly undid all the padlocks and straps he spoke to me.

“You can go to bed in your little box now. You’ll stay in the suit till tomorrow. And you can have a lie-in tomorrow morning ’cause I’ve got some workmen in: something I organized while I was out today. But I’ll come and get you up after they’ve gone and we’ll continue your training.”

It was only once the straight jacket was pulled off me that I noticed I was still stuck in the fist-mitts. Alan slowly and delicately unstrapped and removed the vibrator and zipped the arse of my suit back up.

“Bet your arse is sore, isn’t it slave?” he asked.

“Yes master.”

“Good. I’m going to train it to take me anytime, so it’ll probably be sore a lot more times over the coming weeks. Now, let’s put you to bed”

He made me crawl on the floor behind him as he walked over to the wooden box and opened it up. I stepped into it and laid my head on the rubber pillow.

“Sweet dreams, my slave.” he said and closed the lid, leaving me in darkness.

“I love you” I heard him say as he snapped shut the heavy padlocks on the lid of the box. Even after all that exertion and coming-off, I was hard again. I was also drenched in sweat and cum inside my suit and my hair reeked of my master’s piss.

It was going to be another long night.

I found it difficult to sleep that night. Not surprising given the heat inside the box and the mess of juices that seeped around me in my suit. All the places where Alan had thrashed me so hard – my cock and balls, my buttocks, my back and my tits – were hot and sore, and the inside of my arse ached after having had the vibrator up it for so long. Even my arms still ached from the time they’d spent so tightly strapped up in the straight jacket. All I could smell in the confines of this tiny, secure cell was rubber, sweat and piss.

I was exhausted though, and after a few hours desperately trying to get comfortable – shifting around in a mess of gism – I finally fell asleep.

A Slave Fantasy

Gay Slave in Full Chains and Collar

My past has been wiped out and there is only the present. The future is something i never think about – it is enough that i am alive in the here and now. And that present has a purity and a simplicity that my past never had. i am a slave. i do what i am told. i accept what happens to me. i am content.

i don’t know where i am, whether in a city or in the country as it was part of the contract i agreed to that i would not know where i was going, or who i was going to. i had been selected on the basis of the emails and photographs i had submitted to the agency and told to go to a certain place, at a certain time and wait. It was an hour’s train journey from the town where i had lived, and then a walk of about a mile until i reached the designated spot, a quiet crossroads down a country lane. The instructions had been specific – no possessions other than the clothes i had been directed to wear (jeans, tee-shirt, sneakers, no coat or jacket even though it was winter and rain was falling on me). No watch, either, so i had no idea if i was early or late. Shivering with apprehension so intense that i did not notice that i was cold and wet, i waited for my life to change…

And what a change! i am a slave to a Leather Master who keeps me in chains in a cage in a dungeon and uses me for his sexual pleasure whenever he feels like it.

The first thing he did to me when i arrived was to impress upon me that i am a slave and must never, even for a second, forget this fact. So he shaved my body totally, head, eyebrows, chest, groin, everything; and it is one of my duties as his slave to keep this body in a state of total hairlessness as a constant reminder of my state of slavery.

Then he made sure that, by chaining me with heavy fetters, every movement would remind me that i am a slave. A heavy metal slave collar was welded around my neck, with heavy chains running to metal wrist and ankle restraints, also welded. A heavy ball collar is welded round my balls, pushing them painfully downwards and allowing him to grab them and twist them as a way of controlling me. Apart from these heavy chains i am naked, allowing my Master access to my body at any time. i am trained to present myself to him, to offer up my body to him when he desires it.

i am kept chained to the wall and sl**p on the floor of the cage. The cage is too small for me to do anything other than kneel in it or lie down if i am curled up. At first i had difficulty in sl**ping as the fetters would cut into me if i tried to move too much and the chain from the collar around my neck to the wall is too short to permit much movement. But i have become accustomed to it and i feel safe and secure, like a dog that accepts its new home without question. i eat and drink from a dog bowl on the floor. i am not permitted to eat with my hands but must stick my face into the bowl like a dog.

my nipples and cock have been pierced and rings inserted so that i can be chained in any number of painful and uncomfortable positions when he decides to punish me and discipline me. He also pierced my nose and inserted a ring as a further exercise in humiliation. He says it will serve to remind me that i am a pig slave. Ominous words at the time…. The piercings have not yet healed fully, so that any punishment my Master chooses to inflict on my nipples is more intensely painful as a result.

As a slave, i have no rights whatsoever but must accept that i am a piece of property, owned completely by my Master, to be used in any way he sees fit. i must obey all commands and orders without hesitation, without question; it is enough that he wishes it, no matter what it may be. He can punish me and discipline me whether i have done anything to deserve it or not – it is a high honour that my Master should deign to whip my worthless body or grant me permission to worship his tall leather boots, the symbol of his dominance and Mastery.

my only permitted response to humiliation, degradation, abuse and punishment is one of extreme gratitude to my Master. If i should cry out at any time or be slow in thanking him for abusing me, then i know that i shall be punished even more severely.

i have been systematically and thoroughly trained to serve as his sex slave and i am fully conscious of the honour bestowed on me. my slave training has been severe but i have emerged as a real bootslave, a dogslave, a pig slave, grateful to be the property of such a dominant Master.

When he enters the dungeon, i have been trained immediately to get to my knees, bow my head and wait in a respectful and subservient position for him to unlock my cage. When he has done this, i crawl towards him, begging for permission to lick his boots. He particularly likes to see his slave grovel at his boots. i am often gagged so that i cannot say anything but if i am not then i am only permitted to beg for more punishment, abuse, and humiliation, and especially for the high honour of licking his boots and cleaning them with my tongue.

All utterances begin and end with the word “SIR” or “MASTER”. i am not permitted to use the word “i” but must describe myself in the lowest terms possible as in “SIR, please allow this useless piece of slave shit to lick the soles of your boots, SIR” or “MASTER, this dog turd begs you to piss on it, MASTER”. my tongue is not allowed to touch his boot leather until he gives the command and then i must lick his boots with a proper show of enthusiasm and respect. All my slave training is conducted at boot level, and i am not allowed to stand in his presence unless he is chaining me upright for a heavy whipping.

He wears full leather at all times with a leather peaked cap pulled down low on his brow, so that i can scarcely see his face. In any case, i am not permitted to look at him but must keep my eyes lowered in his presence. He wears skintight leather jeans or sometimes leather breeches with a broad uniform stripe running down the side. As a special favour i am occasionally permitted to run my tongue over his firm leather encased legs and thighs; and sometimes even over his bulging leather crotch, before unzipping the bulge with my teeth and working his cock into my mouth and down my throat.
But his tall black leather boots are my main concern and i spend hours not just licking them but cleaning them thoroughly with my tongue. He will command me to start with the soles. No position reminds me of my status as a slave more than this – i am lying flat on my back while my Master stands above me, one boot raised and pressing on my face while my tongue works on the rough leather sole as it grinds down on me. Then i work upwards, around the rims, over the smooth steel toecaps and up the long expanse covering his calves, sometimes permitted to caress the boots with my hands as i lick them. If he is wearing his hobnailed boots then i know i am in for a hard time -if i do not lick them with enough devotion or attention to detail then he will aim a few hard kicks at my useless body. And he will press down hard on my neck with one boot, grinding the hob nails into my flesh while i service the boot leather of the other boot.

He has a large collection of whips, belts, paddles and crops hanging from the walls of the dungeon and, selecting one, he whips me while i lick his boots. Sometimes he kicks me round the dungeon with his boots while he lays into me with his leather belt. i am ordered to keep trying to lick his boots while he does this. He delights in turning me into a grovelling, bootlicking slave, begging for ever more humiliation, degradation and abuse.

Sometimes he punishes me by locking me in a heavy iron head cage, hanging from a chain in the ceiling of the dungeon. He will crank it up so that i have to stand on tiptoes, my arms and legs will be chained spread-eagled, and he will leave me like that for hours until my muscles ache. Then he will take a whip to my naked back and arse, making me count the strokes and thank him for whipping me after each one.

Whipping a slave excites him more than anything else and when he has finally finished whipping me, he will usually drop the whip and f***e his huge Master’s cock up my arse and fuck me roughly, his hand coming through the metal of the headcage and covering my mouth, forcing his fingers down my throat.

When he has shot his load up my arse, he will pull out, unfasten me from my position, open a door at the front of my head cage, slap me down to waist level and make me clean his dripping Master’s cock with my tongue. Often his cock will harden again while i am licking it clean and he will stick it down my throat, making me suck it hard until he shoots another load. Then i have to clean his Master’s cock thoroughly with my tongue. When a slave is fully submissive, i have discovered, then there is nothing that it will not do no matter how revolting it might have been to its former self. You might say i have been mesmerised to the extent that His desire is quite simply reason enough.

One day he entered the dungeon, chained me firmly to the ground so that i couldn’t move, and buckled a leather plugged gag around my head, filling my mouth so that i couldn’t cry out. Then he lit a fire in a metal brazier and stuck a branding iron into it. i knew what was going to happen to me but was powerless to do anything about it. i simply had to wait in an agony of expectation while the iron reached the right temperature. Then, pulling it out of the fire, he planted it firmly on my arse and branded me with the word ‘slave’ so that all who use me will know what i am. Then, having marked me permanently as a slave, he invited other Leather Masters to his dungeon.

i had to crawl to the door of the dungeon and lie in front of it. When each Leather Master entered, he would use my useless slave body as a boot cleaner, wiping the tall boots on my flesh. Then he would stick his boots in front of my face and order me to kiss them as a sign of my respect. When five tall Masters, some in full leather, the others in full rubber, had gathered, he told them that i am a trained bootslave. Then, slapping me hard across my face, he ordered me to serve them.

Crawling from one to another, servicing their boots, i was used as a boot wipe and boot rest. Some of them were smoking and at a snap of the fingers i would crawl over and open my mouth so that it could be used as an ashtray. They took it in turns to fuck me, slapping me and verbally abusing me as they did so, calling me a worthless piece of slave shit, a dog turd. They gobbed in my face and made me rub it in. Some would pull me up by my collar and order me to lick the snot from their noses; or they would shoot snot into my open mouth.

The evening was an orgy of abuse and humiliation for me, as i desperately tried my best to carry out all the orders i was given by these dominant Masters. Finally, when they had gone, my Master dragged me to my slave cage, kicked me in and, as usual, chained me to the wall and left me lying, my body covered in welts from the whipping i had received. The evening ended as it always does – he walked to the gate of the cage and i crawled over and stuck my tongue through the bars, whimpering like a dog to show how much i wanted to service his boots. As i licked his boots, he jacked off over me, finally leaving me lying in my degradation.

Urinal Boy 5: In The Bushes

Bryan Marshall was only on his fourth beer, but Chip and Ronnie were pretty much wasted at that point. They were all sitting on the hood of a beat-up, abandoned Gremlin by the side of the railroad tracks, smoking, drinking and having a good time for themselves. Ronnie was leaning over on Bryan's shoulder, and kept drunkenly repeating the same question over and over. "Yeah, Marshall, but what did she smell like?" "What the fuck do you think she smelled like? She smelled like pussy! Aint you ever smelled a pussy?" Bryan was starting to get a little irritated at his inebriated friend. "Course, I smelled lotsa pussy, but what I wanna know is what this particular pussy smelled like!" "Smelled like a fuckin' pussy, you retard! I bet you never smelled one. Hell, Ronnie, I bet you never even SEEN one!" "Now I really gotta take a leak!" Chip exclaimed, jumping off the hood of the car. He landed wrong and twisted his ankle. "Oh fuck!" he moaned. "Have another beer and you won't feel a thing!" Bryan laughed. "Yeah, I'll have another fuckin', uh, whatever the hell this godawful piss beer is!" Chip limped off into the bushes to take a leak. They all had been pissing in pretty much the same spot in the bushes the whole time, and all the leaves on those bushes were wet with piss. Chip drunkenly aimed a heavy spray at some mountain laurel bushes and then staggered back to the railroad tracks where Bryan and Ronnie were still arguing about what a pussy smelled like. What Chip was too drunk to notice was how close he came to spraying the excited faces of two young boys who were hiding in that same mountain laurel bush. *** Nervously, we ducked into one of the mountain laurel bushes to avoid being seen. Who was there? Did they see us? Randy and I clung to each other, breathless, our hearts beating in sync. The fear, our warm bodies meshed together, the desire to protect each other. I think I fell in love with him then. We didn't realize until it was too late what a stupid idea it was to hide in that bush. An older boy, about my brother's age, came crashing through the bushes. When he came to our bush he stopped. Randy and I were terrified. Had he seen what we had just been doing a few minutes ago? Then I realized that the guy was drunk, so drunk he didn't even see us hiding in the bush two feet in front of him. Then he started to unzip his fly. Things were really starting to get interesting for me and Randy. Our tongues were out and ready. He sprayed the leaves and it spattered all over our faces. We both tried to angle our faces to take turns getting as close to the piss stream as we could. It didn't really matter, we could lick the piss off each other's faces once the boy left. Then the boy stopped pissing. Shit, I thought. He saw us! How were we going to explain this one? Randy looked up in horror at the older boy. The older boy staggered a bit and then tried to focus his eyes on Randy. It was obvious to me that the two of them knew each other. Then the older boy looked over his shoulder to the abandoned car near the train tracks where his friends were drinking. "Hey Marshall, guess what?" "What? You pissed your brains out?" "No dude. This is like so random! I just pissed all over your little brother!" "What? What the fuck are you talking about? Randy's in school. Shut your pie hole. You're fuckin' drunk." "No, I'm serious, Marshall. I just pissed on your brother! I was taking a leak in the bush and pissed all over him. He was hiding. And he's got a little friend in here, too. Come over here and see!" Then we heard someone else come crashing through the brush. It was Randy's brother. He looked at Randy. He looked at me. He looked at his friend. "Hi Bryan." Randy said nervously. "I guess you're right, Chip," Bryan shrugged. "You did piss on my brother. Knowing him, he probably enjoyed it. He's weird like that." Chip was perplexed. "Whaddya mean, `he's weird like that'?" "I dunno. He's just always tryin' to suck my dick, but I won't let him. I caught him sniffin' my dirty underwear once. He always does that kinda weird shit. We're all pretty sure he's gonna turn into a fag, if he hasn't already." "Wait a second, Marsh," Chip said. "I'm pretty wasted right now, so maybe I really have no idea what the fuck is going on. Please explain this to me. Do you mean to tell me that you sleep in the same room with a cock sucking little faggot? The one I just pissed on?" "Watch it, Chip! He may be a cock sucking faggot, but he's still my little brother, and I love him! Don't you ever say anything bad about Randy again!" "No, no, I'm sorry, Marshall. I guess that came out wrong. What I meant to say was, like, um, dude, you had this cocksucker in your bedroom every night, and you like never once let him go down on you? Hot damn! If I had a little brother who was queer for my cock, I'd be bustin' a nut in his mouth every chance I got! Course, a little sister would be better, but beggars can't be choosers. I can't believe I'm saying this, but holy fuck! Dude, if he wants to blow you so bad, why don't you just let him have it?" Randy and I were still squatting in the bushes, covered in Chip's piss. We had no idea what was about to happen. Actually, that's not true. We had a pretty good idea of exactly what was going to happen next. Bryan Marshall looked at the two of us still crouched in the bushes. "Why don't you two guys come out of there? Yeah, it's okay. Randy, who's your friend?" "Uh, this is my friend Jaden. From gym class." "Hi," I said shyly. "Hey kid. So you two cut class and decided to get freaky with each other in the woods, is that right?" Randy and I nodded. "So are you guys like, all done?" Randy was confused. "Whaddya mean, all done?" "You know. Did you guys finish what you started?" "Uh, no," Randy admitted. "We kinda got interrupted," I explained. "Dude, this is awesome!" Chip exclaimed. "Marshall, we got two cocksuckers for the price of one. And three cocks that gotta be sucked. See what I'm sayin'?" Then he looked at us. "You two will go down on us, won't you?" Randy looked nervously at his brother. "Uh, Bryan? Please? Can we?" "Sure, Randy, what the hell? I'll let ya do it just this once. I know you've been wanting it so bad. Now I don't need to get you nothin' for your birthday," he said as he began rubbing his crotch, "cuz I got your present right here." Randy approached his brother and gingerly reached for his crotch. "No, Randy, I'm taking you guys back to the tracks where we were hanging out. Gonna let Ronnie the virgin use you first. He ain't never had anyone play with his dick, so it's gonna be a real treat for him." We marched over to the railroad tracks where the abandoned car was. Ronnie was passed out in the back seat, his legs hanging out of the passenger side, which was missing a door. "Wake up, Ron," Chip said, trying to rouse his friend out of his stupor. "We got some nice pussy for you. You're gonna get your dick sucked now." "I know what pussy smells like, I smell it all the time," Ronnie moaned drunkenly. "That's right, Ronnie. Stay where you are. Just relax and enjoy your blowjob." "I can smell that pussy right now." "You sure gotta nose for pussy, Ronnie. Okay, now this chick's gonna take you someplace you never been before. She's gonna give you the best blowjob of your life!" Chip sort of grabbed Randy by the scruff of his neck and pushed him down towards Ronnie's crotch. "I'm sure you know what to do, kid." Randy got on his knees on the hard gravel that lined the train tracks and began to unzip Ronnie's fly. Chip, Bryan and I watched curiously as Randy obediently took Ronnie's soft cock out of his jeans and began to gently lick it to erection. I was getting horny again, and I know everyone else was, too. Ronnie's cock had an interesting shape. Since I had sucked plenty of my dad's friends' cocks, I had pretty much seen every kind of cock there was. The kind Ronnie had was one I rarely encountered but especially loved. It was short and really fat, with a very tiny, uncircumcised head. The shape was almost conical. I was sure Randy wouldn't mind if I tried to get in a few licks. It was as if Randy could read my mind. "Jaden, come here!" he motioned eagerly. I knelt down beside him. He pulled down the foreskin of that thick, fat cock to show me. "Look at that!" he grinned. There was quite a large accumulation of cock cheese under that head. "Have some," he urged me. I bent my head down into Ronnie's crotch and licked a big gob of cheese off of the head. Instantly, my mouth filled with the wonderful taste of pure, unwashed boy. Randy began licking the cheese off of the other side, and then our tongues met in the middle. It was a very special moment. Just then, I felt one of the guys pulling me away. "Hey! Ronnie can't have all the fun!" Chip yelled. "Sorry," I apologized. Chip was leaning against the side of the car, waiting for me to get on my knees and service him. I eagerly got into position, unzipping his jeans and taking out his medium-sized cock, which was already hard from all the excitement. I didn't even bother with any preliminary licking. I took it as far down my throat as I could and held it there for a minute. I reached my hands around and put them on his ass cheeks, loving the feel of the warm denim of his jeans in my hands. I gently pulled him towards me, hinting that I wanted him to fuck my face, and fuck it hard. Chip got the message. He shifted from the position of leaning against the car to a standing position, and began to start fucking my face. I hate to admit it, but I was a little bored. I guess after years of servicing my father and brother, drinking their piss and serving at their depraved little slut, an ordinary blowjob was boring to me. But who was I to complain? My job was to satisfy any man who wanted to use me. So I continued with the blowjob. Then something interesting happened. I could hear Chip clearing his throat, but I wasn't paying much attention. Then he tried to hock a big, thick loogie on the ground. Only he missed the ground, and I felt the slimy loogie sliding down my cheek. Instantly I got hard again. My brother always liked to spit on me, and it always really turned me on. "Oh shit! Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to do that." Chip reached into his pocket and tried to carefully pull out a handkerchief without letting his dick slip from my mouth. Instead, I did take his dick out of my mouth. Before he had a chance to wipe the loogie off my cheek, I wiped it onto my finger and put it in my mouth. I then smiled at him, said "More!", closed my eyes and opened my mouth. "You're fuckin' gross, kid! That's nasty!" "Please?" I begged. I still had my eyes closed and my mouth open. I didn't know whether he would do it to me or not. Soon, I felt a slimy gob of mucus on my tongue, sliding back towards my throat. I could taste the cigarettes he had been smoking mixed in with the taste of his mucus. I was pleased. "Thank you!" I said, and then happily went back to sucking him off. While I was sucking him, Chip called to Randy's brother. "Hey Marshall, check this out!" Bryan had been watching his brother suck off his passed-out friend. He came over to where I was working on Chip. "Watch this, Marshall. Hey kid, open up!" I stopped sucking Chip's cock and opened my mouth again. Chip hocked another loogie into my mouth. I swallowed and smiled. "Shit! He's even nastier than my brother!" I snaked my hand up to tease the bulge in Bryan's jeans. "I can handle two at once, you know." "Fuck, this is crazy!" Bryan said, shaking his head. "What the fuck am I going to think when I sober up?" Still, he made no effort to stop me from unzipping his fly and pulling out his massive cock. I now had one cock in each hand. Gently, I licked Bryan's cock. Already half hard, it sprung to attention at the touch of my tongue. I guided the two older guys closer so I could get both heads into my mouth at once. I stretched my mouth to accommodate both cocks, rubbing them against each other to increase the friction. Then I felt something land on my hair. Chip was spitting on me again. I revved up my sucking. "See, I told you he digs it. Go ahead, spit on him. It turns him on!" Then I felt a gob of spit from Bryan hit the side of my face. It felt so good to have those guys spitting on me. Every few minutes I would take their cocks out of my mouth so they could replenish my spit with theirs. Bryan spat on his cock right before it went back in my mouth. Randy came over to see what I was up to. "Hey, get back to work on Ronnie over there!" Bryan scolded him. Randy shrugged his shoulders. "That guy already came. I think he's unconscious now. Looks like all the action's over here!" Without saying a word, Bryan reached over and pinched Randy's nose, causing him to involuntarily open his mouth to breathe. Bryan bent over and hocked a loogie into his little brother's mouth. "Thanks, bro. How did you know I always wanted you to do that to me?" "Well, your little friend here seems to really dig it, so I figured you would, too." I let go of Bryan's dick and offered it to Randy. As Randy got on his knees to suck off his big brother, I knew that his lifelong dream had come true. I've never seen a boy so happy as Randy at that moment. Many gobs of spit later, Randy was treated to his first taste of his brother's cum and I was treated to Chip's. Once it was all over, the two guys woke Ronnie up and tried to get him home. That left me and Randy to go and wash up by a nearby stream. "You know, at 1:30 today, I went to the boys' room to secretly taste some piss. I thought I was a freak. I couldn't tell anyone my secret," Randy said. "Little did I know I was going to meet you, and that my life would change in an instant. This has been a very special day for me, Jaden. Thank you." And then he kissed me. His mouth tasted of everything we had shared: piss, spit and cum. "Things are never gonna be the same between me and my brother, that's for sure!" "You know, Randy, I feel the same way as you. For years, I never had anyone to talk to about the things I do with my dad and my brother Adam." Randy was aghast. "You mean you've done your brother before? And your dad?! Omigod! Fuck! I'm so jealous! I had no idea!" "I guess I've got a lot to tell you, Randy. It's a long story. Why don't you ask your mom if you can sleep over tonight and I'll tell you everything." "Great idea. You know, after all that, neither of us had a chance to get off yet. I'll come over and we'll finish each other off in your bed." "Sounds good to me."

Other Parts of the Urinal Boy Series: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

 

Originally posted on https://statdig.com

Urinal Boy 6: Service With A Smile

I wasn't sure if I should tell Dad or Adam about my new friend Randy. With my father and brother, my role was always to serve them, but with Randy it was different. We were equals. We understood each other. We had fun. Somehow I worried that Dad and Adam wouldn't approve. It might make them really jealous. But then, I knew Randy would want to service them too, and that they might enjoy having another Urinal Boy around. I was thinking about these things when Dad picked me up from school that Friday. "Get up here in front with me, Jaden," my dad instructed me when I was about to get in the back seat, "and keep your clothes on. For now, anyway. Oh, Adam went off with some of his friends this weekend, so it's just you and me." Soon my dad pulled the car into a parking space in front of a convenience store. I knew my dad had something planned for me, just like Adam did at the gas station a few weeks ago. I looked at my dad's crotch. Sure enough, his cock was straining through his jeans. Did he want me to suck him right in the parking lot where everyone could see us? "What are you waiting for, Jaden? Start blowing, you little fuck!" I unbuckled my safety belt and leaned over to unzip my dad's pants. I took his fat dick in my hand and bent my head down to start licking the head. His dick was a little smelly, so I knew he hadn't showered that day. Secretly I was thrilled to think that people were passing by the car to go into the convenience store and probably didn't even notice what we were doing. It seemed to turn my dad on, too. He was harder than usual, and it didn't take too long before he was ready to cum. Every few minutes I'd poke my head up to see if anyone could see us. Dad would just put his hand on my head and guide it back down onto his cock. "Never mind that, Jaden, just keep your mouth on my dick." When he was ready to cum he began to buck in the seat, spearing the back of my throat. I was getting more and more excited when I finally felt the sticky liquid building up around my tonsils. Then my dad grabbed my hair and yanked my head up, his cum squirting all over my face and getting into my left eye. It stung like a bastard, but I knew my dad would be mad if I complained. I looked up and smiled at my dad, squinting out of my left eye and wiping the cum out of it with the back of my hand. I could feel the rest of the cum dripping on my cheeks, nose, lips and chin. "Okay, Jaden," my dad said, handing me a $10. "Go in there and get me a pack of cigarettes. Lucky Strike." "But Dad, you know I'm too young to buy cigarettes! I'll get carded!" I also had no idea that my dad smoked. "Just do it, Jaden! Get in there and don't come out till you get my cigarettes!" I was just about to wipe my dad's cum off my face with my sleeve when he grabbed my arm. "Don't you dare wipe it off! Go in there just like you are!" Aah, so that was the deal! First it was Adam's trick of throwing away my clothes at the gas station to humiliate me, and now this! I couldn't think of anything more challenging than trying to talk the guy behind the counter into selling me a pack of cigarettes, especially with fresh jizz all over my face. Both Dad and Adam were pretty skilled in the art of humiliation. Inside the convenience store there was a lady buying scratch-off lottery tickets. I went to the magazine section and started looking at the sexy boys in Tiger Beat magazine. I decided the safest thing to do was to keep my face hidden in a magazine until the lady left. She seemed to take forever. When she finally left I approached the cash register, hoping no other customers would come in until I was out of there. Hanging my head down, I placed the crumpled-up $10 on the counter. "Pack of Lucky Strikes please" I mumbled. "Gotta see id." "For my dad." "Told ya, kid, I gotta see id. No id, no smokes. There's no way you're eighteen. And look at me when I talk to ya." I looked up at the cashier. He couldn't have been much more than eighteen himself. He was wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, and a hemp necklace. He had short blond hair spiked up with gel and would have been quite handsome if he didn't have very bad acne. Actually, something about the guy's bad complexion really turned me on. It reminded me of some of my brother's friends that I enjoyed servicing, and made him seem kind of raw and sexy. "What the fuck you got all over your face, kid?" I didn't answer him. He looked closer. "Holy shit! Is that what I think it is? Did some dude just shoot a load all over your face? Fuck!" I still didn't answer him. "So you're like a little faggot, right? Like to play the skin flute?" He snickered, then he grabbed his crotch, which was right at the level of the counter. "Bet you'd like to get a piece of this, wouldn't you?" I still didn't answer him. "You want this, don't you? Hey listen, you little homo, if you really want those cigarrettes you gotta come back here give me some real good head! You like that, don't you?" I swallowed hard. I knew what I had to do. "Yeah, I wanna taste your cock!" I told him. "I want you to shoot your load all over my face. Or down my throat. However you like it." "The cigarettes are $7.50 a pack." I handed him the money. He gave me the change, but didn't give me the cigarettes. "Get back here, fag. Come around that way." I was behind the counter and on my knees in a flash. The pimply, hormonal teenager was really turning me on. I loved his smell when I got really close to him. He had a strong body odor coming from his armpits that he tried to cover up with liberal amounts of Axe body spray. The smell of this hot, feral boy mixed with the cheap body spray was really sexy, somehow sexier than either the sweaty pits or the body spray alone. Dad and Adam never wore any sort of cologne or deodorant, so this was a new sensory experience for me. Eagerly I began to rub my face all over his jeans, feeling his bulge pressing against my cheek. At this point things had happened so quickly that I had begun to suspect that my dad had planned this whole thing. Maybe this convenience store guy was one of Adam's friends. When I got his cock out of his jeans, I was a little alarmed at how huge it was. Now don't get me wrong. My dad's cock is pretty big, and I'm usually much happier sucking a fat cock that can gag me than a little weenie, but this thing was unnaturally large for such a skinny kid. But this thing was way too much to handle. "Bet you ain't never seen a cock as big as that, have you?" I hadn't. How big was it? 10 inches, maybe even 11 or 12. "It's huge!" I gasped. So there I was, on my knees behind the counter with all the lottery tickets and Hustler magazines, trying to wrap my hand around this huge, veiny uncut monster cock. I might add that all of the guys in my family, including myself, are circumcised. I know this, of course, because I had been giving Adam and Dad head since I was six years old. But plenty of Adam's friends and Dad's co-workers at the furniture warehouse were uncut, so it wasn't like I hadn't had any experience with an uncut cock before. I usually just slid the foreskin down and licked the cock head like it was an ice cream cone. I tried doing that with this one, but the foreskin was very tight and I couldn't move it at all. I tried a little harder to pull the foreskin down, but it still wouldn't budge. It was stuck there. I gave up because I was afraid that I might hurt the guy. Whenever I'd suck my brother's cock, he'd usually smack me if he felt my teeth or if I sucked his nuts too hard. I didn't feel like getting hit by this guy, so I just decided to go on with the blowjob. So I opened wide and got as much of it as I could in my mouth, which wasn't very much. The guy's cock smelled and tasted great. He wasn't very clean and his cock had a nice, sweaty, pissy flavor. I impaled myself on his cock, but could only get about halfway down. I could smell a strong funk coming from the guy's wiry, reddish pubic hair. I was really digging the smell, so I decided to take his cock out of my mouth and bury my nose in his pubic hair. I worked my nose and tongue down from his pubic hair to his balls, putting the whole sac in my mouth and teasing it with my tongue the way my brother liked. The guy started to moan. I moved my tongue further down between his legs. I could detect the faint smell of shit from his asshole, which I was getting closer to. One thing about my brother Adam, he never wipes his ass really clean. That's why he has all those skid marks on his underwear that I like to sniff and lick when I'm doing the laundry. What always happens with Adam is that he goes around all day after a half-assed ass-wiping and his hole starts to get sticky and itchy. On Friday nights when I rush to greet Adam by crawling naked on my hands and knees and kissing his cock through his crotch, sometimes he'll stop me from worshipping his cock right away. He'll say, "Jaden, give my ass a tongue-wiping first. It's really itchy." I happily lick all the crusty shit and sweat from around his hole until Adam is satisfied. Just from the smell coming from this guy's ass, I knew he had the same problem as Adam. I felt bad for him, having to stand at the cash register all night with an itchy hole and nobody to clean it for him. I put my hands on the guy's hips and tried to get him to turn around for me to access his asshole. "What do you want?" "I wanna lick your ass." "You dig my ass, you filthy little perv?" "I wanna wipe it clean for you with my tongue." He looked irritated. "Okay, fine." He turned around and leaned over on the counter, exposing his ass for me to lick. I spread his cheeks and began working on the slightly hairy hole. I licked from the outside in, sticking my nose in the crack and enjoying the nasty smell. To my disappointment, he got bored with my service to his anus and turned around again. "So far you've been a lousy cocksucker. Can't you do any better than that!" Now I was irritated. I knew I was a good cocksucker. My dad always told me so! I was insulted. I was now determined to show the guy that I really did know how to suck a cock. I licked from his balls, up his shaft to the tip and then opened my mouth wide. I sucked him like a vacuum cleaner. His foreskin still hadn't moved at all by this time, and I was determined to get at his cock head with my tongue. I wrapped my lips around the head and began to wiggle my tongue around the piss slit very slowly. He started to moan, so I kept it up. It took some doing, but I started to wiggle my tonge around between the foreskin and the head. Once I got my tongue in there I was rewarded with a wonderful taste. The flavor was pure, concentrated cock, piss and cum. I was getting a taste of his cock cheese, which had pretty much glued his foreskin to the head. I couldn't get enough of it. I wiggled my tongue in deeper, trying to get as much of it out as I could. It was hard work, but I really wanted to make him cum. He grabbed my head and began to face fuck me. I really love it when a guy does that to me. I was in heaven. Just then a customer came in. Instinctively I pulled away, but the guy held my head on his cock. I realized that probably nobody could see me sucking him off behind the counter, so I just tried to be as quiet as I could, with my lips still around his cock. The customer was some chick who bought some fashion magazines and a scratch-off ticket. She must have been pretty hot, because I felt the guy's dick instantly get harder in my mouth as he flirted with her. I slowly started a rhythm going on his cock, being careful not to make any noise to give us away. I could tell he was enjoying it. He gently started to thrust his hips. I could tell he was also being careful not to give us away. He gave the girl her change and as soon as I heard her leave he began fucking my face wildly. After about 30 seconds I felt his hot cum flooding the back of my throat. He grabbed my hair, pulled my head off his cock and shot his load all over my face. Then he smeared it all over my face with his cock, mixing his cum with my dad's, which had already started to dry on my face. Then he wiped his cock on my hair. I looked up at him. "Here's your smokes, you little turd." He grabbed a pack of Lucky Strikes and threw it at me. I tried to catch it but I fumbled. I picked it up off the floor. I stood up and began to walk through the part of the counter that opened up so the cashier could get in and out. The guy grabbed me by the hood of my sweatshirt. "Where's your fuckin' manners, penis breath?" "Thanks for the cigarettes." He still didn't let go. "That all?" he snarled. I'd had practice with this sort of thing, so I knew what he wanted to hear. Adam and his friends loved to make me say humiliating things after I had sucked their cocks. In fact, Adam and Cole had spent one afternoon making me say the most degrading stuff I could think of into a tape recorder. Adam would usually play the tape whenever his friends came over to get them horny before I had to service them. So it was pretty easy for me to figure out how he wanted to be thanked. "Thank you for letting me lick your ass clean for you. I loved being your toilet paper. Thank you for using me as the dirty cum rag that I am, because I know the only thing I'm good for is to be used as something for a hot guy like you to shoot his load into. Thank you so much for letting me put your beautiful cock in my mouth. I know I don't deserve to service such a fine piece of meat." "Now get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass!" When I got back to the car and gave Dad his cigarettes, he looked at all the cum dripping off my face and said, "I knew I could count on you. You're a good boy, Jaden. You didn't wipe any cum off your face and you even got some more. Now get in the back seat. I want you buck naked by the time we hit Plainfield Road." "Yea, Dad. We're gonna have fun this weekend!" I got into the back seat and Dad opened up his pack of Lucky's. I was curious about when my Dad started smoking, since I had never seen him do it before. He handed the first cigarette to me. "Go ahead, Jaden. You earned it." "But I don't smoke!" I protested. "You do now." He lit my cigarette, and then he lit his own. Then he started the car and pulled back onto the road. "Dad?" "Yes, son?" "Could we stop at that convenience store every time you pick me up for the weekend?" "If you want. I'm sure I can always find something to send you in and get for me."  

Other Parts of the Urinal Boy Series: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Originally posted on https://statdig.com

A Wish Too Far

It was my  come true. My Master, (we’ll call him Darren for the sake of the story), was moving back to my town and coming to live with me.

I had been ordered to clean the house from top to bottom ahead of his arrival and ensure the cupboards were well stocked with food and drink.

I had done all of this and rushed home after work on Friday evening, as he had told me that the first weekend would be dedicated to training me in ‘how it was gonna be from now on.’

I was very excited (and a little nervous) as I entered my house. He was already there, having arrived about lunchtime.

I took off my clothes at the foot of the stairs as I had been instructed and waited, facing the wall, for him to come down to me.

After a few minutes, I heard him come descend the stairs and halt behind me. Without speaking, he fitted the leather mask over my head and did it up tightly. The zips were fastened and I was suddenly in a world of darkness.

“When you come in,” he spoke at last “You will put on whatever you find at the bottom of the stairs. If there is nothing, you will be naked. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master” I replied.

He led me into the bedroom. “This is now the dungeon and my sleeping place,” He said. “Where you sleep depends on my mood.”

I was made to stand in the centre of the room while he began to tie restraints around my wrists and ankles. These were tied off to hooks above and below so that I was forced into an ‘X’ position.

Then I felt him stand close up behind me. His warm hands caressed my cold skin, gently at first. His hand moved between my legs to grasp my balls from behind and he gripped then tightly.

“This is where it begins,” he whispered. “You will never touch your cock & balls again,” he said more sharply, “Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“When you are out of the house, you will always be in chastity and I will have the only key. You will only be released in my presence. These are mine now.” And he flicked my balls, painfully. “They will be emptied, only when I think you deserve it. That could be daily, weekly or monthly. It depends how much you please me.”

He moved round to stand before me and grasped my nipples. I winced slightly. “These, I will have pierced. And I think it is high time you were tattooed. Not a mans tattoo like mine, but a sign of your slavery. A barcode, perhaps?”

I nodded again.

“All this hair must go.” He said, tugging at the hair under my arms and around my groin. Hair is for men. You will be smooth all over. Your head will be shaved to grade 1 each week.”

I felt him untie my wrists but he quickly re-tied them to my ankles so I was bent over. Shocked, I felt him poke a finger between my ass cheeks. “All this hair needs to go, too. Smooth ALL over.” He said, chuckling. “It gets in the way” and I felt him push something firm between my cheeks. He continued to apply pressure until it slipped inside me. It was a butt plug.

“You will wear this when around the house unless I remove it” he said. Then he stood me back up again and fitted a  round my neck, over the , and a strap around my cock and balls. Working quickly, he fitted a  which ran down my back and between my legs, connecting the two, tightly.

It had the added purpose of ensuring I could not remove the butt plug.

“You wanted to be my ,” he said “Well this is what it means.”

It was true, I had wanted this. My stiff cock showed that, despite my humiliation at the hands of this man, I still did.

I felt a sudden sting as he brought a whip down across my bare ass cheeks.

“Now for some duties” he said.

He proceeded to outline what my tasks would be each day – and between each one, he struck me with the whip and asked me if I understood.

They were:

· To get up at 7.00am each weekday and get ready for work quietly.

· To bring him a cup of tea and a cigarette before leaving for work.

· To call him at lunchtime to seek any orders or shopping requirements for the day

· To return straight home after work (unless given permission otherwise)

· To strip off on return and wear whatever was put out for me

· To immediately seek out my Master and attend to his needs

· To cook and clean to my Master’s satisfaction before being allowed to eat

· To submit to my Master’s plans for the evening’s entertainment.

· To obey all orders without question

· To help prepare my Master for bed before I was put to bed for the night.

This last task made him laugh and he released me from my bondage and dragged me over to the bed where he said he would give me a demonstration of how to fulfil that duty.

Still hooded, I heard him unzip his jeans and felt the zip on the hood open. Immediately, he forced his solid cock into my mouth and told me to suck.

“Your last job of the day will always be to clean my cock,” he instructed. “You will worship it with your tongue and ensure it is clean. You will swallow whatever comes out of it” and as he said that, I felt his warm  begin to flow. I began to pull away but he shouted “Drink it, bitch” and thrust deeper into my throat. I had no choice but to swallow. He kept pissing and I kept gulping, thinking I might choke or vomit at any moment. But I didn’t and eventually he finished. But my ordeal wasn’t over.

“Now show me some queer  boy sucking” he ordered and his cock remained in my mouth. I began to work it as best I could and before long got a rhythm going.

I felt him tense and moan softly then suddenly, he exploded in my mouth, filling me with his salty cum.

“You better swallow every last drop” he said. I dared not disobey, licking his dick clean of the stuff.

“Good boy” he said. “Now for your reward.”

I was pleased at this and waited to be released. The chain was removed and my wrists and ankles freed but the butt plug remained.

He stood me up and I felt him begin to wrap me in soft bandages. First my legs then my arms then my body until only my cock and balls were left sticking out.

I must have looked quite odd but I was still hooded so couldn’t see myself.

He lay me on the bed and I felt him rub my bollocks gently. I groaned with pleasure but he stopped. I wondered why but in a few moments, I knew. He had rubbed toothpaste on them and I could feel them burning already.

I groaned again, this time in pain.

“See you later” he called and left the room. I was alone with my balls burning from toothpaste and mummified from head to toe. I couldn’t move an inch.

I waited. And I waited. Although the burning sensation eventually died away, it left my balls aching and my cock, rock-solid. The plug was still buried deep inside me and was a constant reminder of my status.

I was alone in a dark world of my own. My thoughts wandered and my imagination played tricks on me. It felt like I was being watched but I heard him moving upstairs and I knew I wasn’t. After what seemed ages, I called out “Master! Master!” But there was no reply. I desperately wanted to cum. SO desperately that I began to sob. “Please Master!” I called. But there was no-one to hear me and eventually I drifted off into a sleep of sorts.

I awoke with a warm sensation on my cock, which had softened. It was pleasant, like someone breathing on it perhaps? My balls felt like they were being tickled by something but I couldn’t tell what.

My dick instantly stiffened again. “Master?” I wasn’t sure but I guessed he must be with me and called out. He didn’t reply.

Over what seemed like the next hour my cock & balls were subjected to various sensations. Some of them were pleasant, others bordered on painful. Sometimes there was a pause of several minutes between and sometimes it went on uninterrupted. It was completely outside of my control. I could not stop it or resist – even if I wanted to. But my cock was now throbbing, so intense were the sensations.

Still he had not spoken and I began to wonder if it was him. Could I really feel anything? Could I be dreaming or imagining all of this?

“Master?” I called again but again there was no response.

I began to struggle but it was useless as I was tightly secured. I screamed out my safe word. But then I remembered – I had said there was to be no safe word from mental torture. I was utterly powerless. I felt like I would go insane from the things going on in my head at that moment. Intense pleasure mixed with intense suffering; confusion, helplessness, humiliation and desire all blended together in an intoxicating mix.

Then it stopped. Completely. Nothing happened. Minutes ticked by. My dick, still throbbing, was untouched. I hadn’t wanted it to continue – but stopping was worse.

“Please, Master,” I begged, realizing that I was almost crying. “Please finish me”.

Then I got a reply. It was a laugh, not spoken words, but it was a reply and I was overjoyed. My Master had laughed at me. Deep down, I knew he had already broken any resistance or dignity I might have had. I had become little more than a dog, craving its master’s attention.

I heard him strip off and felt him climb into bed beside me. He reached out for me but I could not respond, mummified as I was. I felt his warmth through the bandages as he held me. Felt his hand brush lightly over my cock. I couldn’t bare it any longer. “Please stop now” I said in the most manly voice I could muster.

But he laughed again. “Oh no” he said. “This is only a taste of what is to come. Or not to come,” he added laughing at his own joke and stroking my meat. “I am naked beside you” he said. I struggled and strained once more but I knew it was in vain. I could not escape.

“One more thing,” he added. “Something for you to think about before you go to sleep. You are 100% mine which means no running off to your best mate’s when he calls.” I tried to protest but his hand stroked my balls lightly. “I though about theat problem and I came up with a brilliant solution,” he went on. “I told him what I was doing with you. He knows. He understands. He is glad cos it means you wont be pestering him every two minutes. I have agreed to let you undertake jobs at his request and release you when he asks. He will help me control you. In fact, he is coming round tomorrow to see you. To see you like this.”

The words took a while to sink in.

“I told him everything and he thinks it’s what you deserve. So now you have no reason not to be here at my beck and call. Think about that, slave,” he said, “Goodnight” and with one last sharp tug of my cock, he turned over and settled down to sleep.

I awoke the next morning after a night of broken sleep and intensely sexual dreams. The first thing I realized as my mind began to focus on  was that I had a hard-on and my balls ached from the need to be emptied. The plug was still inside me and uncomfortable when I moved.

As far as I could tell, Darren was still in the bed beside me. I felt a soft movement over my cock and groaned from the exquisite pleasure and yet suffering.

“Oh, my slave is awake is he?” he said. Before I could answer, he rolled over on top of me and undid the mouth zip on the hood I was still wearing.

I thought it was so I could speak but instantly, his semi-hard cock was in my mouth. “Suck it clean, bitch, ” he commanded. I did as I was told, savouring the smell and taste. He had been very clever really. Had I been allowed to cum by now, I would probably have not been in the mood for games first thing in the morning but so desperate was my need for relief that I would do anything at this moment.

I hoped by pleasuring him, he would reward me.

I was disappointed. A few minutes in, he withdrew his dick and redid the zip before getting up and without speaking, leaving the room. I heard him in the bathroom then I heard him upstairs.

I was left alone for some time and began to drift back to sleep, despite my discomfort, when he suddenly returned.

I was de-mummified and the hood was removed from my head. I blinked in the morning sun.

“You may remove the but plug and you have 15 mins for shit, shave, shower. Then I want you upstairs wearing this” he said, flinging the slave pouch at me. “But before I let you go, I need to put this on to make sure you don’t play with yourself.”

He produced the CB3000 chastity device which he quickly fitted and padlocked in place. My cock was now encased in a tough plastic prison and out of bounds.

“15 mins – Go!” he snapped and I dashed past him to the bathroom. He slapped my ass as I ran by.

Once alone, I was able to take care of my toiletries and freshen myself up but I couldn’t so the one thing I really wanted to do – wank!

15 mins later, I stood before him once more, wearing the slave pouch as instructed. He was sat on the sofa wearing my dressing gown and smoking. He had the Cat o’ nine tails with him.

“Very good,” he commented, looking at the clock, “Now in the kitchen and make my breakfast. I will have coffee and egg on toast. You will have bread and water.”

I nodded. “Yes Master” and set about my task.

I could hear him on his mobile phone as I worked but could not hear what was said. I wondered if his threats about Jim from last night were true but didn’t think my best mate would go along with something as cruel as that.

When I returned with a tray bearing our breakfast, he was off the phone and seemed pleased. I put the food down and he made me eat mine on the floor. After breakfast, I was made to wash the dishes as he whipped me for every fault he could find. Then I was sent down to the bathroom with orders to prepare a bath.

I did so and shortly, he joined me. He put the hood back on me and then dis-robed and climbed into the foamy waters.

“Now, slave, clean me!” he ordered. Carefully, as I could not see anything, I began to soap up his muscled body and wash him all over. If I had not been hooded, it would have been a horny experience. The fact I was hooded, made it 10 times more horny. I could feel every bulge of his muscles in my hand but could not see! Real torture beyond anything I had experienced before. My cock strained against its plastic prison.

When he was done, he ordered me to towel him down then he left me alone, temporarily, whilst he dressed.

When he returned, the hood was again removed. He had assembled various tools and it was clear I was to be shaved and trimmed as he had explained the previous night. The CB3000 was removed and my pubic and body hair was shaved along with my head whilst Immac was spread between my ass cheeks and left to do its work. Five minutes later, I was made to get into the bath – the same water he had used which was now cooler and bubbleless – and I cleaned myself off. He watched me carefully to ensure I didn’t touch my cock.

When I was done, he ordered me to stand in the bath whilst he applied baby oil all over my hairless body. The touch of his hands on my smooth skin sent my cock into overdrive and I felt I would cum from the feelings alone. But I didn’t and before we left the bathroom, he reapplied the CB3000 and hood. I was taken back into the dungeon and forced into the .

He locked it shut and I was left once again in the dark and unable to ease the pressure in my aching bollocks.

I again drifted off to sleep, despite being cramped and having only a single blanket to wrap myself in. My uneasy dreams were full of dark happenings and I awoke several times. At one point, I imagined Jim and Darren were stood laughing at me in my humiliation.

Then I awoke. It was not a dream. Although I couldn’t see, I could clearly hear Jim’s voice. He was here, in the room, alongside my Master.

“Get him out” I heard him say and then heard the padlock being opened.

“Out” Darren commanded. Reluctantly, I obeyed. I didn’t want to play – not in front of Jim. It was too humiliating. Too embarrassing.

I was stood before them, naked but for the chastity device on my cock and the hood over my head. I guessed this made it easier for them to look at me for they didn’t have to look into my eyes but, knowing they were seeing me like this, didn’t make the humiliation any less for me.

“What can we do with him?” Jim asked

“Anything you like” Darren replied. Then he snapped “On the bed, face up”

I was half pushed into position and quickly my wrists and ankles were secured so I was spread-eagle. The CB3000 was removed and replaced with the studded parachute. Darren explained to Jim about the tiny spikes inside then I felt pulling on it. It hurt and I winced. Jim laughed and I felt more force on it. Then I heard rattling of chains and they somehow managed to secure a constant upward pressure on it meaning my balls were continually subjected to dozens of pin-like pricks. I moaned in pain.

“What do these do?” I heard Jim ask, wondering what he was referring to. I soon found out as I felt clamps applied to each nipple, biting hard and deep. This time I yelped with the pain but that seemed to encourage them.

“Try this” I heard Darren say. I braced myself for whatever was to come.

Suddenly I felt a searing sensation on my chest, making its way down towards my navel. I cried out in the mask, guessing Darren was introducing Jim to the delights of hot candle wax on my body.

“Try it on his balls” Darren suggested.

I yelled “No!” but it was too late. The hot wax covered my balls and I screamed.

My mind was clouded with the pain but my cock, also now being coated in hot wax was harder than steel. Here I was, a worthless piece of meat, providing entertainment for two men. And why shouldn’t I? That was all I was fit for. They were men, it was their right to use me in whatever way they desired.

The pain was now intense in my balls, my nipples and from my cock.

“Want to make him really suffer? Watch this” Darren said.

I was ready to scream. I was ready to shout out my safe word, though I didn’t think it would do any good. The nipple clamps were removed and the relief was overwhelming. The studded parachute was removed. It felt amazing to have my balls free. Something cold soothed the burning sensations of the hot wax.

Why had he stopped hurting me – or was he just building up for the big one?

I tensed up and prepared for massive pain. And felt nothing, Nothing except his hand on my balls. And then on my cock. His hand, covered in baby oil. Working me. Slowly. Gently. I writhed on the bed. Fuck this was beautiful. He teased my balls, gently squeezing them in his hand. He knew I liked that.

“Ohhhh Fuckkkkk! I exclaimed, my mind on another level with so much pleasure after so much pain.

“You like that?” he asked, softly.

“Yes Master” I replied, squirming and pushing myself up off the bed toward him.

“Pleeeeaaaaasssssseeeeeee” I begged, wanting him to go harder, faster. Wanting him to let me cum. But he continued at the same slow, steady pace.

“What are you?” he asked.

I paused for a moment then replied. “I am yours, Master. Whatever you want me to be. I am your slave, your toy, your piece of meat. I will do anything for you Master, please…”

He laughed and stopped all contact with me.

“No…Master!” I begged, “PLEASE!”

“See how easy it is to control a fag” he said to Jim, who also laughed.

“Do you want our cocks?” Darren asked me and I replied instantly

“Yes Masters”

I didn’t even realize I had said it until Darren pointed it out. “It seems you are now also his Master, Jim”

Jim laughed again “fuckin’ queer!” he exclaimed.

I heard Darren unzip his jeans and then heard Jim do the same on the other side of me.

“Our cocks are out” Darren said, “Here they are” and I felt something brush passed my hand on Darren’s side. Of course, my hands were tied to the bed and I couldn’t move them but it didn’t stop me straining against the bonds.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Jim, that’s massive” Darren said, laughing.

I had no way of knowing whether they really did have their dicks out or not as I was still hooded but my imagination had taken over.

“PLEASE!” I begged again.”PLEASE MASTERS! PLEASE HAVE MERCY”

”What do you want?” Darren asked. “Tell Jim and me what you want”

With no thought of my dignity, I pleaded to be allowed to suck them both off. For them to fill me with their spunk. To be fucked. To be spit-roasted. To be ridden like a bitch. To be made to satisfy their every fetish and desire.”

I was now so desperate to cum and to be used by these two men, I really would have done anything they demanded of me.

Instead, they left me to one side and both climbed onto the bed next to me. I heard various muttering and laughing and I felt a faint thud thud thud. I strained to hear, from inside my hood, what was going on.

I heard gasps and moans of pleasure and whispers of “Yeah, that’s good”

Like a bolt of lightning it hit me! They were wanking each other off! Of all the tortures I had endured today, this was surely the worst. Not just two young, fit, straight guys wanking each other off but THE two fittest guys in my life, doing it here, right next to me. And I was too well restrained to move a muscle, let alone join in and too well blindfolded to see a thing. But I could feel the bed shaking with their movements and hear their gasps of pleasure and delight. And I cried! I cried in frustration and desperation. I cried real tears and lots of them. I sobbed and yelled and struggled but they ignored me, too far gone in their own pleasure no doubt. Pleasure that should have been mine. Despite my agony, I calmed myself as I could hear from their sounds that one or both of them was getting close to cumming.

And I SO wanted to join them.

Then I heard a shout and felt warm liquid splatter across my cock and balls. I yelled out in disbelief. “PLEASE” I shouted, “PLEASE – LET ME HAVE IT!”

The first wave was quickly followed by more until my cock and balls were dripping with thick creamy straight-boy spunk. I writhed and shivered in unbelievable ecstasy but at the same time sobbed and cried in frustration.

I felt some of it being scooped up from across my balls and then the zip was opened on the mouth slit. Fingers were pushed into my mouth and greedily I sucked – on yoghurt!

I heard the two of them laughing loudly at me, no doubt finding humor in the way I had completely humiliated myself before them. Thinking it was all real, imagining them with their cocks out and wanking, I had promised them anything and everything in return for a share in their fun. I had debased myself and it had all been a big joke.

I felt utterly defeated. Worthless. Useless. Inferior. My dick now lay limp and lifeless though my balls were still swollen and aching. I didn’t deserve to cum. I had been used and abused by two straight guys and I felt broken and sub-human.

I began to cry again as they left the room, still laughing at me.

I must have cried myself to sleep because when I awoke, I was being manhandled. The restraints round my ankles and wrists were removed and I was told to stand by Darren. The hood was not removed but the eye slit was opened and I was half dragged to the toilet where I was told to do whatever I needed.

I could not see or hear Jim. I had no idea of the time or how long I had been asleep though it seemed to still be daylight.

It was difficult to use the toilet whilst being watched but I managed somehow, taking every opportunity to stretch and flex my stiff limbs and muscles.

I was then led upstairs into the lounge. Jim was there, sipping from a can of beer.

He stood up and came towards me, zipping the eyeslit shut before taking me completely by surprise by grabbing my balls sharply and squeezing them. I winced.

My cock instantly leapt to attention. I was shocked. This was the first time, to the best of my knowledge, that Jim had ever touched me in that way. He seemed to enjoy the reaction and flicked my knob, causing me to wince again and wobble slightly. I had no time to enjoy this latest development before Darren said “ him, then” Almost at once, Jim yanked my arms behind my back and I felt solid steel handcuffs around my wrists. My feet were bound together, also by Jim, I guessed.

Then, what I guessed was a duvet, was wrapped around me tightly and secured with rope. This in turn was lifted – complete with me inside – into some kind of large bag or sack. I felt the top of the sack being tied and I was then hoisted into the air with some effort.

All sounds were muffled inside this new prison and I was still wearing the hood so it was extremely dark. It quickly became very warm too.

I dangled for a few moments as I heard Jim talking to Darren, he seemed to be explaining something.

Then I felt a blow to my side, cushioned by the padding surrounding me. Then another. And another. Some laughing, some talking; then another blow followed by a series on various parts of my body. I was being used as a human punch bag.

Although I was protected, some of the blows were quite hard and I felt them, even through the duvet.

I was getting hotter and sweating. Breathing was difficult and several blows had partially winded me. I didn’t know when or where the next one was going to land so I couldn’t prepare for it.

This went on for ages and despite my protests, they continued, turning the music up to drown out my cries.

Eventually, I felt myself lowered and I dropped to the floor. I was released from the duvet. They examined me for bruises, laughing at the marks on my battered body.

I was then released from the cuffs and fitted with a collar and lead around my neck. I was given the leather chastity belt to wear but Darren made an adjustment so that a long piece of string was tied around my balls first. I was then locked into the belt but he gave a sharp tug on the string, telling me that was their signal if they wanted me for anything.

I was made to crawl to the kitchen, led on the lead by Darren, and told to make them both dinner whilst they were in the study, surfing the net.

I set about the task, grateful for some time on my own where I could move my arms and legs and was not being beaten or abused.

However, my cooking was interrupted by frequent tugs on the rope as they demanded more beer, biscuits, updates on the food and various other questions I suspected they devised simply to inflict pain on my poor aching balls.

Eventually, I finished my task and brought them two large plates of tuna & pasta bake with garlic bread. They made me sit at their feet and Darren hand-fed me scraps from his plate. Jim put his on the floor when he had finished and ordered me to lick it clean.

I was quite hungry so was glad to eat, though licking from a plate on the floor like a dog was a humiliating experience. Darren gave me a couple of slices of dried bread and a glass of water and told me I had been a good boy.

I began to hope that my ordeal was almost over. After dinner, I was made to wash all the dishes and clean the kitchen – which I was left mostly in peace to do.

Then I was hauled back into the lounge, again crawling on my hands and knees, and told I was to be a footstool and coffee table for them whilst they chilled out.

Hardly daring to move, they rested their feet, and an ashtray, on my back and chatted together. It seemed they were planning to go out to the pub and were debating which one.

Eventually, they decided and I was taken back downstairs and padlocked into the  – the end of my ordeal, I hoped. I heard them moving about up and down stairs, getting ready but they didn’t bother with me anymore.

Locked in the cage, with my cock and balls inside a leather prison and a hood over my

head, I was far from comfortable. The pressure in my balls was immense and I couldn’t help but think about all that had happened to me over the last 24 hours which gave me an instant erection.

However, they hadn’t finished with me yet! I was dragged out of the cage. My hands and feet were tightly bound and I was placed into a sack or bag – without the duvet.

I was breathing heavily, not knowing what to expect. They carried me out of the house and put me in the boot of Jim’s car. Then the boot slammed shut.

Moments later, I heard the car doors slam and the engine start. A sudden jolt and we were moving.

Jim must have decided to take the bumpiest roads he could find and drive as erratically as possible because I bumped and banged around in the boot until I began to feel quite sick. My plea’s for mercy were drowned out by his stereo system.

Clearly, they did intend to go the pub because eventually the car stopped and I heard the doors slam again. The boot was briefly opened and a finger prodded me. When I responded, Jim laughed and said “He’s still alive”. Then the boot slammed shut and I was left alone.

I was cold and scared. I couldn’t sleep but I couldn’t move, either. I waited for what seemed like an eternity before they returned to the car.

They checked on me once more before setting off. The journey back was even worse than the journey there. Maybe Jim had been drinking or maybe I was just more bruised and sensitive but I seemed to feel every lump and bump in the road.

When I was eventually lifted from the boot and returned to the house, I was very relieved. I was removed from the sack and thrown into the bed, still bound. The light was switched off and I was left alone.

Despite my bonds, I drifted off to sleep very quickly, being both emotionally and physically exhausted.

Once again, I was awoken from my sleep by movement. Once again, I had lost all track of time.

It felt like my bonds were being removed. I stretched my tired muscles as soon as I was freed. Then, the hood was removed, too. It was dark in the room but for a single candle burning.

I was aware that it was Darren who had removed my bonds. He was lay on one side of me. To my astonishment, Jim was lay the other. Both were topless. I couldn’t see what else they wore as, like me, they were beneath the duvet.

I lay still, hardly daring to breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

My heart sank as I was once again tied, spread-eagled to the bed. I wondered what torture awaited this time and I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes – when would it end?

Softly, I heard Darren whisper “Poor slaveboy. He has suffered so much today. His puny body is battered and bruised.” And he began to gently caress my outstretched arm. I tensed myself, waiting for the pain – but there was none. He continued gently massaging my arm and I felt Jim do the same on my thigh.

Yet again, my cock stiffened, still in its confinement. So this was their torture. To tease me as they had done earlier. I tried not to respond but their firm manly hands working my sore and aching muscles felt divine. Darren’s hand moved to my chest and began to gently squeeze my nipple. I waited for him to pinch but he didn’t.

Jim’s hand moved to the top of my thigh and he stroked around the leather belt.

I groaned in pleasure – despite my attempts to hold it in – and threw my head back.

“PLEASE” I begged again despite knowing they had ignored all of my begging and pleading throughout the day “Please don’t tease me, Masters. Just do what you are going to do and get it over” My voice sounded weak and pathetic.

Jim replied, “We’re not teasing. You have done really well and you deserve this reward.” And I felt him fumble with the padlock on the belt for a moment and then it clicked open. He removed the belt and my stiff cock sprang up, my two heavy balls hanging large in their sac.

Darren continued to tweak my nipples as Jim’s hand grew ever closer to my balls. As he touched them, I arched my body in ecstasy. Darren had chosen that same moment to bite my neck – not to inflict pain but maximum pleasure. I felt my cock shoot out great strings of hot gushing semen. I didn’t want to cum so soon but my body was under their control. I yelled out “Oh Fuck! Oh God!” as I pumped out more and more of the sticky white substance, drenching myself in it. My body spasmed as waves of intense pleasure shot through me.

I think they were impressed at themselves and the effect they had on me. I was disappointed. I felt robbed of what could have been a much longer and more pleasurable experience.

I lay on the bed, shuddering for a moment until Darren grabbed a towel and cleaned me up. I was still tied and couldn’t move.

“Do queers always cum that easy?” Jim asked. I shook my head. “No Master” It seemed odd to call him Master but after what I had been through, I knew I would never be able to think of either of them as equals again. They had broken me and made me theirs.

I lay, looking at Darren, waiting for further instructions. To my great surprise (and pleasure), they picked up where they had left off. Darren began running his hand over my chest while Jim fondled my balls, no longer swollen or aching.

My cock lay to one side, at rest, but I felt it begin to stir again. I lay back, savoring the moment. All the pain and all the suffering had been worth it for this. The two most important guys in my world, the two who now owned me, were pleasuring me.

Darren began stroking my neck whilst Jim’s hand ran lightly over my now hard cock.

I was determined to hold out much longer this time and make the most of this amazing experience.

Darren was tweaking my nipples again and whispering in my ear. Jim was stroking my cock, agonisingly slowly. I strained against my bonds – I SO wanted them both.

As if he had read my thoughts, Darren whispered “Do you want us to take you?” His breath in my ear drove me wild.

“Yes Master” I whispered back.

“Whatever the cost?” he whispered again.

“Yes Master, please”

They stopped for a moment, exchanged some whispered words, then I felt them swap places. Jim was now concentrating on my neck whilst Darren played more firmly with my dick.

“Would you like to taste the Jim cock?” he whispered softly.

I nearly choked there and then. “YES” I said in a definite tone. “YES MASTER”

”While Master Darren fucks you?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing

“YES PLEASE MASTERS”

“Whatever the cost?”

“YES PLEASE MASTERS” I repeated. I had got the idea in my mind and I wanted it more than anything else. I should have picked up on the ‘whatever the cost’ line which both had used on me – but I didn’t.

They re-tied me on the bed in an ‘on all fours’ position

Jim shuffled round in front of me and unbuttoned the fly of his boxers. He pulled out his dick which was semi-erect and already appeared large. He pushed it to my lips which I willingly opened for him.

It slid in and down my throat. I began to suck. It tasted even sweeter than I had imagined. Quickly, it stiffened and became fully hard. It was almost more than I could take. But I was determined to give him the blow-job of his life, even if it choked me in the process. I began to build up a rhythm and he sighed, as if in pleasure.

Suddenly, I felt Darren’s cock sliding between my spread legs. It hurt as he entered and I tried not to let the pain distract me from sucking Jim’s now huge cock.

I was finding it hard to breath with Jim’s cock in my mouth and Darren’s up my ass but I concentrated on getting synchronized so that as Darren pushed in, which pushed me forward slightly, I went down on Jim.

Ever since I had known them, I had fantasied about this and now here I was, getting spit-roasted, by my two former best mates – now my owners.

This was my sole purpose in life, this was why I was here; to serve these two young studs.

The pace quickened now as Darren’s relentless pounding became faster and harder. This caused me to push deeper down on Jim’s solid meat. I cradled his big hairy balls in my hand and he seemed to like that. Moments later, I felt him tense. Then he exploded. Hot spunk fired down my throat like a bullet from a gun and he gave a yell “Swallow it bitch!” I didn’t need telling. Greedily, I milked every last drop. Moments later, I felt Darren shoot his load inside me.

I didn’t care about humiliation anymore. Only men could be humiliated. I had gone past that. Why should a slave feel humiliation – it was part of my role to be used as their fuck toy, to take their spunk.

Darren slapped my ass cheeks hard as he continued to shoot inside me and Jim slapped my face as I licked the end of his knob clean.

They both withdrew and smiled at each other.

Again I was released and given a towel to clean myself up. My cock was still hard from what had just happened but I could see that having both cum, they were now interested in just one thing; sleep.

They tied me back in my spread-eagle position on the bed and settled down, one either side of me. I didn’t mind too much. What had just happened had changed everything. I felt sure it was to be the first of many such sessions and I would have the chance to cum again. How wrong I was to be….!

I slept long and deep that night and awoke the next morning to find myself being untied by Darren. I was ordered to make breakfast and perform various household chores – wearing the leather chastity belt, hood, collar and lead.

Dutifully, I carried out my chores, all the while, reflecting on what had happened last night. Once I had finished, I was given a cold shower and cleaned up by Darren who then informed me that he and Jim were going out. I was made to drink a glass of whisky and swallow four tablets and tied back in my spreadeagled position on the bed. They removed the chastity belt but tied my balls up so tight it made me gasp but I was already feeling a little light-headed as they threw a duvet over me.

I heard them drive off in Jim’s car and thought they had been a little quiet. As sleep overtook me, I wondered where they were going and what else they had in store for me.

My dreams were filled with strange sexual images, no doubt inspired by the previous night’s antics. I dreamt I was being pushed about and slowly realized that I wasn’t dreaming it but in fact I was being manhandled. As I fought to come to from my sleep, I realized that the hood was being removed..

Bright lights were shining down on me. My head was spinning.

I blinked and saw both Jim and Darren in the room. Both were wearing surgical gloves and various medical equipment was in evidence.

“Slaveboy,” Darren said in a somber tone, “You are accused of trying to make us gay by enticing us to get involved in sex acts with a male. We have decided that the only course of action to cure this is if you are NOT a male anymore.”

I guessed this was one of Darren’s mock  specialties which he used from time to time to scare me. I felt sick from the whisky and tablets and I had a pain in my groin.

“I don’t feel well” I said. “I’m sorry but can we stop now?”

”I don’t think you understand the seriousness here,” Darren said. “You are going to be castrated”

“Yeah, I know the routine,” I replied, not in the mood for playing, “But I really don’t feel well. Its those tablets you gave me with that whisky. Can you let me sleep it off and we can play later?”

”We are not playing,” said Jim, pulling back the duvet, “This is for real”

I looked down and almost passed out from shock. My balls were swollen and black. They had been tied so tightly, that the circulation had been cut off. Even if they were playing, they had probably done irreversible damage. But I suddenly knew they were deadly serious. I freaked out and began to scream, still staring at my half-dead testicles.

Darren came over and stuffed a sock in my mouth, taping it over with duct tape.

I struggled and yelled muffled shrieks through the gag.

He put a hand on my forehead and spoke softly. “Didn’t you enjoy last night? Don’t you want to do it again?”

I stared at him, wild eyed, and he gazed back.

“We want to do it again. All the time, in fact. But we cant with a man – it would make us gay. But if you lose these,” and he put his other hand on my balls. They were cold and had no feeling. I knew they were almost ruined. “If you lose these, you can be our sex slave . You wont be a man so it wont be gay. And anyway – you agreed to it last night. We said ‘whatever the cost’ and you agreed”

I was shaking. Tears filled my eyes. But I knew it didn’t matter what I wanted. They were going to do it anyway. My two tormentors were going to become my two castrators. They were going to nut me, here in my own bed, in my own home, and I was powerless to stop it.

“We have entonox so it wont hurt,” said Jim, pointing to a cylinder by the bed. “And I have got a load of pain killers, antiseptic stuff a proper scalpel and some superglue so no need for stitches. A simple cut and it will all be over.”

They had it all worked out. A simple cut and it would all be over. My life as a male would be over. I would become a sexless eunuch. Their sexless eunuch; to be used for fucking and sucking whenever it pleased them.

It was my sweetest dream and my worst nightmare in one. I felt sick to the stomach. My head hurt, I felt feint, the pain in my groin had worsened and to add to it all, I had a raging hard on. Darren spotted it. “Look,” he said to Jim, “His dick has decided for him. Cut him.” And with those words, my fate was sealed.

I begged and pleaded with them through my gag but they took no notice.

Jim began to paint the antiseptic solution over my balls and my cock was duct taped to my belly to keep it out of the way.

Darren put the mask that would deliver the pain-relieving gas over my nose and mouth and switched on the flow.

They prepared everything and ran through a checklist before Jim picked up the scalpel. I was glad, in a way, that if anyone was going to nut me it should be my one-time best mate and now one of my two Masters.

Resigned to my fate, I watched – horrified and fascinated – as he located the area he would cut. And then, almost surgeon-like, he began to work with the scalpel.

As the blade cut into the tiny neck of flesh between my cock and balls, I came one long, last time.

It was the last time I would ever shoot my load and was probably the best one of my life. As my scrotum was separated from my body before my eyes, and my cock pumped out jism for the last time, I knew that this was what I wanted.

A life of slavery stretched before my eyes – of being bound and helpless at their mercy. Of being forced to perform for their pleasure and always denied that ultimate pleasure for myself. The only cum I would ever know again would be theirs. Being made to suck their mighty cocks or have them rape me when they desired. And all the time, being reminded of my status by the space between my legs where my balls had once hung.

I felt little pain thanks to the drugs and gasses. Jim’s cut was a clean one and there was scarcely any blood as they had tied them so tightly. He made a neat job of gluing my severed scrotum back together and he applied dressings in a very professional manner.

When he had finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork and to smile for the camera.

To my astonishment, I realised that they had filmed the whole thing. “We didn’t tell you as we didn’t want you to pose or act up. We wanted it all to be natural.” Jim explained.

“We are gonna put a trailer on the internet but sell copies of the actual .” Darren added. “You will be famous”

“And anyway, its not something we can do again so we figured we needed a souvenir” Jim added, laughing.

I actually smiled back. Already, I was beginning to fall asleep again, the drugs and my emotions taking effect.

“You are gonna be out of action for about a week but when you are recovered, we will have a nice new plaything,” Darren joked. He bent over and kissed me on the forehead. “You have been a good slave today. Now get some rest and get better soon.”

I nodded weakly and watched them both leave the room before finally sinking into a deep sleep – my first as a eunuch.