Author: admin

Nanton is a small town in the province of Alberta, Canada, with a population of approximately 2,200. It is located south of Calgary and north of Lethbridge. That’s where the Miller and Stewart families live, where they each own a ranch side by side under the vast prairie sky. Think wide-open grasslands, grazing cattle, and the freshest air you can imagine.

Brandon Miller and Buchanan Stewart are both 18. You could say that the two young men embrace the cowboy stereotype, the authentic ranching lifestyle, practically glowing with passion for what they do. Brandon has a sister named Alisson; she is one year younger than him. Buchanan has a sister named Sharon; she is one year older than him. Since the Miller and Stewart families are close friends, the parents have often imagined that Brandon would date Sharon, and that Buchanan would date Alisson. The teenagers regularly sit together for burgers on the grill but the boys never hold the girls’ hand. They seem to enjoy free time in the barn where rope and saddles hung proudly, where the musky scent of wood, hay and horse accentuates a virile glow. That’s where they first held hands and awkwardly embraced each other.

As soon as Brandon and Buchanan graduated from high school, they decided to work on the ranch. They remember that an effeminate classmate was constantly mocked, called a sissy or a faggot. Two bullies even dared to yell “cocksucker!”. At the time, Brandon and Buchanan did not join in the derisive or scornful comments. They kind of felt sorry for the handsome lad. Now, they wonder what the two bullies would say or do if they saw them holding hands. Brandon and Buchanan enjoy cuddling and caressing. They are one step away from kissing. After a delicious angus beef BBQ dinner bringing together the two families, after having drank at least four bottles of beer, the boys say that they need a nap. The Millers and Stewarts separate, but it does not take long before the boys head for the barn.

Not yet plastered, Brandon and Buchanan embrace like never before. Their lips weld together naturally, passionately. They are not too tipsy to feel each other’s erection. Since the teenagers have swum naked in a river a few times, they know a couple of facts: both have a similar cut dick, both sport a peachy butt and a slightly hairy crack. Brandon has in mind the word “cocksucker”; he spreads out a blanket on the hay stack, invites Buchanan to join him, pulls down his friend’s denim jeans and white underwear, caresses the erect dick, kisses the pink mushroom, licks the shaft and gradually swallows the entire rod, triggering moans of pleasure. Buchanan also wants to taste a man’s meat; Brandon’s cock looks a little thicker and his balls are hairier. This excites him and they end up in a 69, pumping each other’s man juice, slurping every drop of creamy jizz.

The teenagers are not ashamed of their mutual attraction. Even though same-sex marriage is recognized in Canada since 2005, they obviously know that homosexuality is not the norm and that traces of homophobia still linger in the mind of some Canadians. What is important to Brandon and Buchanan is that they feel good together socially, emotionally and sexually. They take pleasure in exploring each other’s body, in worshiping each other’s ass. They make a parallel between the butt and the face; both have cheeks, both have lips, both have a hungry hole. You can imagine that fucking is just around the corner. But let’s not go too fast. They are not yet there. Ass exploration first includes caressing, massaging, sniffing, licking, fun-spanking and – what a surprise – eating! The boys ignore the word “rimming” but they sure know how to indulge in it. After having taken a shower, they like to tongue-twist their way as deep as possible inside a clean shit hole while squeezing the balls. Brandon is the first to suggest kissing the ass hole and the face lips back and forth. “It’s so fucking tasty!”

Having been raised on a ranch, Brandon and Buchanan have seen bulls displaying male-male mounts; this behavior is known as the buller syndrome. It doesn’t take them long to feel like a bull in need of a male ass. Fingering is the first step, shoving a carrot is the second step, inserting their dick is the third step, pounding until a full blast is not the end result, however arousing it may be. Buchanan suggests that they use an English cucumber to simultaneously get fucked. In practising this method, they get the idea of shit hole rubbing-frotting. Once their anus is cum dripping, they position themselves to have their lubricated rosebud engage into kissing and licking, into making love. This technique is so arousing that Brandon and Buchanan get hard again and jerk off. Licking each other’s jizz and French kissing are the coronation of their hottest sexual gratification experience.

All this is happening without the parents noticing any change in their son’s behavior. When they suggest dates with the neighbor’s daughter, this idea is brushed aside with subtility. Brandon says that he is not ready yet. Buchanan adds that working on the ranch, with the help of Brandon, is more important. The parents can’t really object because the boys make a remarkable contribution to cattle raising. Cock and ass raising is part and parcel of the young ranchers’ hard work.

“Oh Fuck! You’re Bout to Make Me Cum!” Said the 21 year old boy fucking me from behind. “Fuck yes, fuck yes! Damn, your tight boy hole feels soooooo gooooood! Ugh, ugh, ugh I feel the cum rising from my nuts. Fuck yes, take my raw cock queer boy!”

The slapping sound generated from the muscular straight boy each time he slammed his dick hard and fast against my ass cheeks reverberated within the bathroom stall as well as throughout the University cruising restroom. The grunts and groans coming from the boy expressed the pleasure my fuck tunnel was giving him. The muscular quarterback was firmly gripping my waist digging his fingers into my skin as he drove the entire length of his dick as deep as possible up my boy pussy. The quarterback pushed and pulled on my waist in timing with each fuck thrust in and out of my butthole. I held the palm of one hand against the wall behind the toilet balancing myself and trying to keep the power of the straight boy’s fuck strokes from driving my head into the wall. I furiously, jerked my stiff six inch uncut cock with my other hand hoping to climax at the same time my boy pussy was being bred.

Pow, pow, pow, slap, slap, slap of naked skin to skin anal fucking sounds rang out in the university restroom again and again with each fuck stroke by the hunky, jock sending sexual pleasure surging through the straight boy moving him closer to cumming. Droplets of sweat fell from the quarterback’s face hitting my lower back and running into the crack of my smooth round firm bubble butt.

I heard the quarterback saying; “Holy shit, I love the heavenly tingling sensation cumming from the shaft of my dick and it is flooding my body with pleasure. I have never felt this good from fucking a girl! Dude, your hole is fucking awesome. Oh fuck yeah, your about to make me cum! Fuck, shit, damn, I am gonna cum. I am gonna breed you. Fuck yes, yes, shit, here it comes. Oh my God! Take my fucking load, bitch! Oh, oh, oh, oh, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, I’m cumming, Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh”

I felt the quarterback’s 7 inch, straight as an arrow, cut dick begin to pulsate and throb then, swell and expand for a split second three times inside my boy pussy followed by three long flashes of super white hot heat deep inside my bowels as he shot several long ropes of cum deep inside my ass.

When the young boy started climaxing inside me, he leaned forward resting the full weight of his hard body on top of me. The quarterback placed his mouth near my left ear as I listened to him express the emotions he felt from his extreme orgasm. The feel of the straight boy’s body, his words and sounds in my ear was too much. I pumped my hand furiously up and down my penis three more times and began to shoot cum from the head of my dick. As I squirted cum from my stiff cock I released my hand from my dick allowing cum to spurt from my dick and drop into the toilet below.

The straight quarterback pulled his softening cock from my cum soaked boy hole. He pulled his t-shirt from behind his head back into place. He pulled up his underwear and shorts. As he spanked my ass cheeks with a couple of hard slaps he said; “That was one great piece of ass pussy boy.” He turned unlocked the stall door and left the restroom.

As I pushed out the large load of cum from my hole into the toilet, I thought, what a first great visit to the University restroom. I would definitely, be back for more!!!

Warning! This is a fictional story of Domination and slavery.  The story may include topics that may be offensive to some. It includes teens, incest, intense BDSM scenes, and consensual slavery.   Some aspects of this story could seem too extreme to some people.  Therefore, if this offends you, then please move on.  

Chapter Summary: This chapter describes Master Mitch and his new slave’s first day at their private college. Mitch receives an offer he can’t refuse. 

Author’s Notes:  This is a spinoff story of ‘Owning my Family’.  This is about 6 years after the legalization of volunteer slavery became the law of the land.  Even though this author identifies himself as a slave, this slave doesn’t condone non-consensual domination or slavery. All submissives in this story volunteered to be enslaved.  Remember, this is just a fantasy and does not represent real life. 

• Master Mitch – Alpha student who just became the Master of his long-time friend, a student slave owned by the School. The school pays part of his college costs in exchange for help training his former friend, who is now an owned slave.  

• Slave David – A student slave with ID of SS6996.  He’s a new slave to Master Mitch. Master Mitch befriended David in grade school with a plan to enslave David when he grew up.  Now that has happened.  He is 19, 130 Ib, 5 ft 4 tall, with blond hair and blue eyes. Now, it is hairless per requirements by the college that owns it.

• Prince/Professor/Master Masood – Son of a prince who fled his kingdom to love another man.  Yet, there is also another reason his father left his Kingdom.  He is now a prominent professor at the college and has been accepted back into his royal family.  Now, the King fully supports Prince Masood. 

• Master Johnny – Proud black Master who, with his twin, was saved by Masters Malik and Marcus, who now run the WLO organizations. Johnny came from generations of bred slaves hidden from the world by a wealthy white family that never freed their slaves after the Civil War.  Masters Malik and Marcus hired mentors/tutors to bring Johnny to the 20’s 20th-century understanding of the world. As a result, Johnny and his twin entered college older than most young men of their age group. He is 23, 6 ft 2 in, 200 lb, 11 inch cock, and large muscular frame.  His twin brother and him are strong black men due to being manual labor slaves for most of their lives.  

• Master Jimmy – Proud black Master who, with his twin, was saved by Masters Malik and Marcus, who now run the WLO organizations. Johnny came from generations of bred slaves hidden from the world by a wealthy white family that never freed their slaves after the Civil War.  Masters Malik and Marcus hired mentors/tutors to bring Jimmy to the 20’s 20th-century understanding of the world. As a result, Jimmy and his twin entered college older than most young men of their age group. He is 23, 6 ft 2 in, 200 lb, 11 inch cock, and large muscular frame.  His twin brother and him are strong black men due to being manual labor slaves for most of their lives.   

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POV: Master Mitch – Part 1

I lay back, admiring my boy in my arms.  He is perfect! Just the way I made him to be. Well, he was born to be mine. If not mine, then another Alpha would have claimed him.  I smile down at the slim body I created.  It took planning with his father to make the body and mind I now control.  I made sure his father kept him on a restricted diet and worked hard around his house.  The boy was looked after to avoid being distracted by too many friends or after-school activities.  Jake and his father kept him in a state of being controlled 24/7. Ultimately, he loved the control more than anything in his life.  Exactly, like I wanted him to be.  Now, he sees me as his savior because I control every aspect of his life.  

I watch him sleep in my arms, proud of my boy.  I smile, content that my dreams are coming true.  I fall asleep with the warmth of my boy in my arms.  

I wake up horny as usual.  Yet, this morning, I have a warm mouth tending to my cock.  It’s incredible because I was dreaming of that very mouth worshiping me.  I keep my eyes closed, enjoying my boy as I slowly clear the fog in my mind.  As my mind clears up, the hornier I get.  So, of course, grab the back of the boy’s head and pump deeper into him.  It doesn’t take long to dump my load.   I hold him there for a little while as he tries to push up to catch his breath.  Yet, I want to feed him every last ounce of my seed.  He needs to learn that even his right to breathe is my choice.  DAM! The thought of having that much control is such a rush!  Just as his face turns red, I release him.  

He takes several big breaths as his face returns to normal. 

I pat his head, “Good boy!  It held its breath well. Its daily swims worked as expected.  But we will have to work on longer and longer breaths. I like long, slow cocksucking, so prepare to be able to hold its breath longer as it learns to serve me with its wonderful mouth.  Now, get me a cup of coffee and a biscuit while I prepare for my first class.  I take a dash of cream but no sugar.  You know I don’t believe in loading up on sugar.”

“Yes, Master, I remember.”

I tap his cheek and smile at him, “Good, slave.  But remember not to use personal pronouns to refer to itself.  Saying ‘IT’ reminds it’s just an animal.  Never refer to itself as ‘I’ or ‘me’. Those designations are reserved for free people.  Intelligent Animals like itself are no different than dogs or cats that I own.  It needs to understand that it is no longer human like the Alphas of the world. Does it understand?”

It nods, “Yes, Master, it understands.  It remembers how its Master likes his coffee.”

“Good slave, now GO! Be quick!  I need my coffee!”

My boy runs off as I grab my tablet. I have Chemistry in two hours, and there is a quiz today. So, I review my notes, ensuring I understand everything the professor taught over the last few weeks. 

A few minutes later, my boy sets the coffee on the table.  He is about to set the biscuit down, but I hold up my hand. 

“Feed me as I look over my class notes.”

I focus on my notes so I don’t forget anything, as the biscuit is presented to me. I open and take a bite, and then I read some more.  

“Coffee!”

Next, a hot cup of coffee is presented to me, too.  I lean over and take a sip.  My boy starts to put the cup down, but I order, “STAY!”

The boy stays holding the hot cup of coffee. I can tell he is nervous, not wanting to spill hot coffee on his Master. Yes, that would be bad for me and him! Luckily, this isn’t his first time doing this. Jake has had him hold his drinks for him in the lunch room many times. It was, of course, my idea. I trained Jake to be my sub so he could train my boy. I had Jake start with cold drinks and then progress to hot ones.      

I scan more of my notes and then order, “Biscuit with coffee!”

It’s a test to see if he can learn quickly on his feet. Although he has seen his mother and father dunk a biscuit in coffee before, he has never done it with Jake. I wait for 10 seconds. 

“NOW, BOY!”  

The boy finally understands.  In the corner of my eye, I see he’s dunking the biscuit into the coffee.  Good!

I open my mouth as he presents the nice-smelling biscuit soaked with coffee to my mouth. I lean in and bite.  Yet, some crumbs fall on my chest.   

“CLEAN ME!”

He sets the biscuit and coffee down and then tries to pick up the crumbs with his hands, but I swat them away with a hard smack. 

“BOY, USE ITS MOUTH!”  

So, I lean back, set the tablet down, and grab the cup of coffee while my boy licks my chest.  He licks from nipple to nipple and up to my neck.  The hot coffee is right over his face, and I can see his nervousness again.  However, he needs to learn to trust me, its Master.  I will not damage my boy.  I worked too hard to get him trained the way I like.  Besides, I cannot damage the school’s property.   I take a few sips as he licks my nipples.  Yeah, that feels good.  My nipples are one of my erogenous zones. I would have used one of his holes again, but I don’t have time.  

I pat his head, smiling down at him. “Go get my shower ready the way Jake trained you to do in the group showers at school.”

He looks up at me with recognition on his face, “Yes, Master.  It remembers.” Then he runs to the showers down the hall. Yet, just before he leaves, he grabs a towel. Good. It reminds me that Jake used to require it to bring a fresh one to the shower every day after football practice.  

So, I take one last sip of my coffee and a bit of the biscuit.  I smile to myself.  Yes, all the years of waiting are finally over.   I get out of bed and grab my toothbrush and my favorite shampoo. I need to ensure my boy brings those next time I shower. 

I walk nude to the showers. I’m proud of my body. As an Alpha, my father taught me not to be ashamed of my looks. He had me work out daily to ensure everyone would admire the Alpha I was born as. It’s well known now that there is an Alpha gene. My father had me tested a couple of years ago, and my genes show I’m 85% Alpha. 

As I walk down the hall, many of the slaves stare at me.  I can feel their submissive gene taking hold.  It feels good to be admired by slaves.  Yet, I’m not the only Alpha heading to the showers.  My best buds, Johnny and Jimmy, are pulling his slaves behind them.  They are twins and went through the WLO training center required for all Black slave owners of the white slaves sold by the WLO organization.  I see the two slaves have the branding of the WLO logo on their asses.  My bud’s story is heartbreaking and unforgettable at the same time.  They were slaves growing up until the leader of the WLO Training Center saved them!  We only knew each other this year, but they are fantastic guys.   Despite what they went through, they still accepted me as their best friend at the school.  

I see their slave boys have red asses again, “What did your boys do this time?” I ask.

Jimmy smirks, “OH, that. They asked to see their brother again.  I told the bitches that its brother was sold last week to an owner, and I don’t know who purchased it. All I know is I just got the tax revenue for my share of the white brother’s sale. These bitches don’t seem to get it in their heads that their family is now just IAs slaves with no rights to contact each other.  They just need to move on.  So, I have to get them to focus on me, their owner, with a hard spanking!   Besides, I like seeing their white asses red before I fuck them in the morning.”

Jimmy yanks hard on the leash, pulling one of the brothers down the hall and into the showers.  Johnny does the same to the other boy.  Jimmy and Johnny have an older slave back at the WLO center!  Master Marcus and Malik acquired it before the national slavery law was enacted.   I guess these two slaves were lost family members of the original family that the leaders of the WLO Center took ownership of.  They are still adjusting to life as slaves.  I imagine it’s tough being owned by Johnny and Jimmy.     

When we get to the open shower, my boy is waiting for me, and the hot water is running. I hand him my toothbrush and shampoo and walk under the hot water. Ah, that feels good. 

“CLEAN ME!”

My boy knows just what to do. He quickly gets to work rubbing my body with soap and my hair with shampoo. He rubs my scalp just as I had Jake do to me many times, so of course Jake taught my boy the same methods. 

I hear a yell and look over at Johnny.  His boy’s face is now a dark shade of red.  I feel my boy’s hands shake in fear. I rub his back and whisper, “Be good, or I will have to do the same.”

Johnny’s slave cries out, “Sorry, Master, it will clean your hole with its tongue now!”  

I smirk as the boy puts soap on his tongue and pushes it into his Master’s hole.  That must taste horrible!  I then grab some liquid soap and trace my finger along my boy’s hole as he cleans my hole.  Then, with a quick jab, I push my finger in.  I hear a sharp intake of breath.  I finger his prostate, causing him to moan. 

He stops rubbing my hole, so I lean over and whisper, “Don’t stop cleaning me, boy! ” then push in and out more forcefully.  

He quickly gets the message, and then, to my surprise, he puts soap on his tongue, leans over, and pushes his tongue in my hole!  He must be trying to compete with Johnny’s slave.  This is interesting.  He has never shown any competitiveness before.  Yet, I never gave him a chance to compete before.  I didn’t want to foster pride in himself but instead, focus on what he could do for others.  But maybe I can use this as training that I didn’t think about before. 

Its tongue is nice.  I grab the back of his head with my free hand, pushing him deeper into my hole.  Fuck he’s good.  Jake’s training paid off.  My hole is cleaned better than it has ever been! 

Now my hole relaxes, and suddenly I have to fart.  So, I let one loose. The smell is strong.  I laugh to myself. It must smell awful for my boy.  Yet, it’s just an animal, so smells shouldn’t bother it. 

I push his face deeper into my hole as I fart. That way, it has to breathe in more of the foul stench and less than my fellow Masters, and I have to smell.  It seems to work!  I  will have to remember to do this whenever I have to fart so my boy can breathe them in instead. It’s a good use of a slave, right?  I’m always looking for more ways to use my boy.  I’ve been thinking about it for years.    

When I’m done farting, I pull my boy up by its collar and order, “CLEAN THE REST OF ME, BOY!”

At the same time, I pull my finger out of its hole.  As expected, it gets back to work washing the rest of me.  The boy is good, working every inch of my body, from my toes to the top of my head.  He gets in and behind my ears. Although, I’m not surprised. I have watched him wash Jake many times in the school showers.  In my session as Jake’s Dom, I instructed him how to wash me and expected him to teach my boy the same way. I’m pleased my boy learned what Jake taught him. Yet, feeling his soft hands on my body is a treat I will enjoy every day of my college life and hopefully more.  Jake’s hands didn’t feel the same. It must be because my boy really wants to please me. Whereas Jake did it because he wanted to learn to be like me.  I now understand the difference.  Slaves who love serving me are better slaves. 

After washing me, I rinse off and then walk to where it hung up my towel.  I nod to the towel, and it knows what to do.  It dries me quickly but thoroughly.  Other Masters are beside me, and we just smile at each other’s slaves, satisfied that we are being served as Owners should be. 

Johnny comes up beside me with his arms out.  His newest slaves watch my boy dry me and copy him. Excellent, both are learning from each other.  That’s why it is so important to have public use slaves.  They learn much quicker from watching other slaves who are better than themselves.  Again, I have to rethink my idea that slaves shouldn’t compete with each other.  Well, as long as they compete in a way that improves their service to their Masters, that seems OK.  Just as long as their ego doesn’t get the better of them.  When they start thinking they are better than other slaves, then that is a recipe for disaster. 

Competitive sports have changed so much since slavery became the norm.  There are still professional sports, but the players are all now brilliant Masters. You can’t go to college without a 3.5 grade or higher.  So, athletes are also very successful, intelligent businessmen.  The day when athletes were paid millions is over.  Instead, all players on the team are paid the same. Only if the whole team wins games will they get paid more. So, they have to work together to market their team and not just be the hero of your team. Players are not traded like slaves anymore. Instead, the team players vote every three months to keep or let go of any team player.  If they underperform, then team players may cut the underperformer.  This motivates each player to perform their best.   

Also, there is a growing idea of using slaves as athletes in games.  It’s an increasing trend on campuses around the state.   The problem with the old professional sports system was that the athlete’s ego got in the way of the team’s unity.  The sports clubs would sell athletes like they were slaves.  So, the athletes had to show they were better than their teammates to get on a better team.  It didn’t foster teamwork.  

However, seeing that slaves have no ego or shouldn’t have, they might be the perfect athletes to help their fellow slaves serve their Masters better.  But instead of traditional sport, why not have a sport that the slaves really enjoy doing? Like slaves serving their Masters in all aspects of their lives?  

I look at Johnny, “Hey Johnny, I have an idea.  What do you think about creating slave games where slaves can show how well they serve us, their Masters?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, for example, I think of creating identical staged rooms. The slaves walks in and sees a mess.  We time how fast and good the slave cleans up the room. However, time isn’t as important as doing a good job. In the end, the slaves who do better have to show the slaves that lost what they did wrong.  Then, they all work to fix up the room. Then, the slaves that did their best are rewarded by serving all of the Masters who have slaves in the competition. The slaves who didn’t do their best must watch and work harder to do better next time. However, if any slave shows an ego, they are kicked out of the competition, and its owner feels disappointed with it.”

“Yeah, I like it. It would teach the slaves who didn’t do their best how to be better so they can get rewarded.  You might want to set up these slave games after the slaves passed some of their servitude classes.  That way, they can use what they learn in the real-world competition. It reminds me of what our mentor explained about something they used to call “Reality TV” back when he a kid. Jimmy and I watch some but they were corny as hell but did sucked you in.”  

We both laugh at the stupid shit they had for the reality TV shows.  He’s right, they were so corny.  Yet, they were popular in the old days. 

“OK, thanks for your ideas.  I will talk with Professor Masood, head of IA slave training and education.”

“Well, if you get the OK, count me and my slaves in. I saw how your slave took quickly to cleaning up your hole with soap.  I had to punish mine a lot to get them to clean my hole with a soapy tongue.  I’m impressed with your boy.”

“Thanks, Johnny!”

We break off, heading to our separate dorm rooms.  I notice my slave is getting distracted by all the other Masters, naked or half-dressed, getting ready for classes.  It’s lusting after all of them like a moth to a flame.  Well, as a slave, it’s a natural part of who it is.  Yet, I can’t have it wandering off. It needs to be focused on me and my needs while it’s with me.  So, when we get back to my room, I grab my slave ring and slide it on my finger.  It’s the latest addition to the slave control system from FM Technologies distributed by JR Slave Emporium.  The ring uses ultra-low-power Bluetooth to create a short-range wireless leash.  I have paired it with the collar using the Slave app.  Then, I set it to 15 feet, the size of my dorm room.  So, my slave will be shocked if it gets out of the 15-foot range.

Also, I program another range profile for this dorm floor.   That way, I can quickly switch from only serving myself to serving the whole dorm’s floor. Of course, all doors nowadays are smark doors.  So, slaves can only enter or leave with their Master’s permission.  If you own a slave, then all doors in your private home are required to be smart doors.  It was added to the constitution amendment not long after the constitution was passed.  Several changes to the amendment were made over the past several years, all to keep slaves safe and loyal to their owners.  With today’s slavery laws, it’s impossible to escape enslavement. Plus, the AIs monitor everything from cameras to smart doors, and there is no place a slave can hide. Except there are rumors of whole houses being blocked from the AI reach.  I don’t see how.  Yet, the most powerful, like the Richardson family, it might have the means. They are like our new founding fathers.   

I turn to my slave, “Boy, dress me.”

I show him where all my clothes are located for each day of the week. I’m a little obsessed with looking my best.  So, I order him to dress me in some nice-fitting, mid-thigh blue shorts and a red polo shirt with my favorite tennis shoes.  I also have him add a belt while he tucks in the shirt.  My Dad said I should always look my best in all situations.  This includes keeping my body in shape. So, I threw him my gym bag to carry.  We will hit the gym after breakfast.  

I grab my phone and set the wireless leash to three feet.  Then I grab his balls and pull him to me, whispering in his ear, “Boy, stay close to me.  I will protect it, so don’t worry about the other Alphas outside our dorm’s floor. Also, stay close to me if it doesn’t want to get shocked.  I have set the wireless leash to three feet. If it gets further than three feet, shocks will start.  The further it’s away, the stronger the shocks will be.”

Then slap his ass, “Let’s get something to eat,” and walk out of my dorm room without looking back.  I don’t hear any whimper, so I assume he is following closely.  One thing about barefooted slaves is that they are quiet when walking. So, I’m glad my phone will ping me if it gets farther than three feet.  The slave collar from FM Tech is a wonderful invention.  Slavery, as we know, couldn’t have been possible without it. 

I walk out the hall to a cool morning breeze.  It helps wake me up before my first class.  A short 5-minute walk, we are at the dining hall.  

Once inside, I order, “Boy, grab a tray, a plate, some silverware, and a slave bowl.” 

Everything is labeled, so my boy finds what I want.  As we walk down the cafeteria line, I point out what I want: eggs, ham, an English muffin, and some OJ.  He adds them to the tray while walking behind me.  I can tell he’s nervous about being out in public naked and making sure he gets everything I want.  When he grabs a raisin muffin, I press my finger to the ring, causing him to jump and then yelp some in the process.  

“Without raisins, boy!”

He responds in a high-pitched voice, “Yes…, Master…!”

The sudden shock of the collar must have caught him off guard. Behind us, a Mistress is giving him some snickers.  

Another Master laughs a little louder, “It must be its first day.”  

Yes, my boy will eventually learn my taste and everything I like.  Not everything could be trained into him by his father or his assigned bully, Jake.  

When we get to the cooler section, I point to the slave stew.  He nods and scoops some into his bowl.  Then he grabs a glass and fills it up with OJ.  I point to the water spout called “slave water.”  I’m told it’s room-temperature water mixed with some piss and other supplements for a growing slave boy.  It’s not just water from the tap. He holds his bowl under the spout.  All slaves have special toilets where their piss is collected, reprocessed, and added to the water.  My environmental professor says it’s a form of recycling, helping save the planet one slave at a time. I suspect it also saves on the college’s water bill too. 

At the end of the line, I tap my phone on the reader, and everything is credited to my account. My responsibilities as a Master training one of their slaves cover most of my expenses. 

I find a table with my buddies Johnny and Jimmy already seated. Since I don’t see their twin white slaves, I assume they are under the table serving their needs.

I sit next to Johnny while my slave sets the table.  I then point to the two slave bowls and then under my chair.  He places the bowls under me and waits with his hands behind his back.  I let him stand for a few minutes.  It’s good to be exposed like this.  Jake always put him in embarrassing situations, like tying him to the goalpost.  However, he never made him stand like this to show he was owned.  That’s because I wanted this moment for myself.  The first time a slave is exposed as property in front of boys who could have been his peers but now are his superiors is a good teaching moment. 

Five minutes later, I tap his ass and point to under the table.   Quickly, he rushes under the table.  I pull him into my crotch, looking down at him.  Our eyes meet, and I whisper, “Free ME!”

As the well-trained boy as he is, he quickly opens my pants, freeing me. 

I whisper, “Open,” smirking as he opens wide.

I place my soft cock in his mouth.  

“Seal.”

Once his mouth is nicely sealed around the head of my cock, I let loose the recycled coffee from earlier. 

I sign, “AHH!”

Johnny looks at us, “Your white boy doesn’t spill a drop.  He’s trained well.  Is that your training?”   

I laugh, “In a way.  I had one of my switches, Jake, be assigned as its official bully throughout grade school and high school.  This boy’s father and I trained Jake to be a dominant Alpha but keep a tight leash on Jake.  So, Jake trained my boy in the ways I trained him.  Both learned the skill of drinking from the tap.  I didn’t allow either of them to spill anything fed to them.”

“Dam! So, did the boy know it was being trained via another Alpha/Switch?”

I laugh, “Hell no.  It was fun watching it grow into the submissive bitch it is today.  It thought I was its best friend!”

“WOW! That’s devious. So, you never used it growing up?”

“Nope! But was always in control of it.”

“Do you own it now?”

“Nope, the school does.  I’m assigned to it as its primary Master and have first rights to buy it when it completes its education.”

“Why didn’t you just take it as yours when you came of age to own it?”

“Shit, man, it’s paying for my room and board.  As its primary Master and agreeing to train it to their standards, the school is paying for my room and board. Of course, I have an academic scholarship.  Who doesn’t? But that doesn’t pay for my room and board.”

“No, shit. That’s a good deal.  My brother and I get the tax revenue from the white slave tax sales.  What the tax revenue doesn’t pay for, the WLO organization for a “Better Black Life,” BBL, pays for the rest.” 

“Yeah, I remember. You said you got your slaves from the WLO organization.”

“Yeah, WLO has helped make a better life for all blacks in our country.  There are no blacks now that are homeless because of economic reasons.  About 70% of all blacks now own at least one slave, and over 80% are white slaves.  My people have now taken back what was taken from us for generations.  You know our story.  We were slaves to a white family until Master Marcus and Malik saved us.”

I pat Johnny on the back, “My friend, it’s wonderful to see you and the whole black community finally getting justice! It’s been a long time coming.  Yes, the new slavery law has been great for all Alphas of the world, especially black families that deserve respect.”

Johnny gets excited when it comes to his people getting what they deserve.  Seeing him so empowered to make a real difference is incredible.  His excitement gets me excited as my boy starts sucking me down his throat.

I continued to eat as my boy nursed me, keeping me on the edge.  There are more sucking sounds around the table, with about three other Masters being serviced while a kitchen slave comes over to get drink orders for everyone at the table.  It is a mixed-race slave boy taking the orders. His dick is caged but leaking.  So, as he stops for me, I run my finger over the top of the cage where a steady stream of precum is dripping out.  I ask for another OJ, and as I lick it, my finger is clean. Excellent, it’s sweet, like the boy’s face.

“Thank you, Master, for cleaning up after this slave!”

I rub my wet finger along its crack, “It’s sweet, boy.”

He blushes as it gets the double meaning. Then, it rushes off before I can sample its hole.

The boy gets me close to the edge, so I grab the back of my boy’s head and force hard down my cock.  I take a breath as I dump my load directly into his throat.  Seeing me release my load, others around the table do the same. It’s common for Masters to feed off each other as one release, and others follow suit.  

The cute waiter returns with my OJ. This time, I waste no time sampling its hole. It stands there with my finger rubbing its prostate.  Like all bitches it moans in heat. 

One of the masters complains, “Mitch! Let the boy go.  I want my drink!”

 

I pull out of its tight hole and pat its ass, “Go on, boy, serve the others.”

“Thank you, Master. I hope Master enjoyed its hole.”

“Yes, it has a wonderful hole. What’s IA’s ID?”

“ML5694, Master!”

The letters ‘ML’ means Manual Labor, like my slave has SS for Student Slave before its number.  After slavery was legalized, it was necessary to create classifications for slaves.  There are many other classifications like OC for ‘On-Call’, PD for ‘Protection Detail’, and of course, PA for ‘Personal Assistant’.

“OK, I will have to order its services sometime soon.” 

“It would be a pleasure to be of service, Master!”

I lean over and whisper, “See you soon. Now run along. Don’t want to keep the other Masters waiting too long!” tapping the boy on the ass again. 

I watch the boy’s backside as it serves the other Masters at our table. 

I yell out, “SORRY, ERIC!  ITS TO CUTE TO PASS UP. YOU KNOW, RIGHT?”

“Yeah, Yeah, I understand,” as he plays with the boy, too. 

Alpha students can rent the school’s manual labor slaves for whatever services the Alpha wants.  A temporary contract is created between the school and the Alpha student about using the slave and the conditions of their property after the contract ends. If any student breaches the contract, the student can be sued, and punishment can be up to the enslavement of the Alpha student.  The last thing an Alpha student ever wants is to be enslaved. It was reported that a few Alpha students in the past were sued with a sentence of enslavement. This keeps us following the contract to the letter. 

I piss one last time in my slave’s mouth and head to the athletic building for my morning run. Of course, my boy stays close behind me. 

In the locker room, I order, “Boy, change me into my running shorts and shoes only.”

“Yes, Master.” 

He quickly pulls my polo shirt over my head, kneels at my feet, and removes my shoes and shorts. Nowadays, Most Alphas don’t bother with underwear, and I’m no exception. 

He looks up at my naked form, rubbing his lips with his tongue. I smirk at it. It’s learning to lust after me. That’s good. It makes it more special whenever I want to use it.

I feel the presence of other slaves watching us, especially the school’s ‘On-call’ slave assigned to the locker room. 

“Kiss the head, boy.” 

It grins like a boy being handed a sucker. Then it leans in and kisses the head while staring up at me! 

“Lick!” 

With an even wider grin, it licks the precum off the head. 

“Taste good, boy?” 

“Yes, very much, Master!” 

I stare into its eyes, knowing it just got a delicious treat.  Yet, it can’t have more unless I allow it. Learning to control its natural impulses is essential. That learned control defines it as an intelligent animal rather than just an animal. It’s why IA’s are so special and valuable.

I pat its head, “Nice! Now finish dressing me, and then hand me my phone.”

I see its disappointment, which is good. It knows I’m more important than its natural animal impulse. It’s just like training any pet for domestic use.  If it keeps behaving well, it will be rewarded. 

I’m dressed quickly and then order him to put my gym bags in a locker. After he does, I tap my smart ring to the locker. It locks automatically. All locks nowadays are electronic. Manual locks were replaced quickly after the slavery law was passed. Alpha lawmakers didn’t want slaves to use manual locks to hide something from their owners. So FM Technologies came up with all kinds of replacement locks for everything, even these lockers. It makes sense. Slaves can’t be allowed to hide anything from their owners. It would just cause chaos. Order is what slaves want and need. 

I open my phone and extend the wireless leash to 6 feet. Then I run out to the track. I hear a small yelp, and my phone buzzes. It just got a slight shock as a reminder that it needs to stay within 6 feet of me. 

We run around the track for 30 minutes. It yelped a few times but was able to keep up. Good! Its father’s body training paid off. I told its father I wanted the boy fit, and that’s what I got. Its father knew I wanted it, so he did what I wanted for the boy growing up. I knew he was destined to be mine since I was 10 and knew I was an Alpha. Controlling him with a proxy was fun while it lasted, but ultimately, I had to have him as my personal slave. So, when the slavery law came about, I knew it was my chance to take him as mine. If all goes as planned, he will be my personal assistant slave after graduating. 

After our run, we stretch and go inside to lift weights, focusing on our legs today. Tomorrow, we will work on our upper body. Before I finish my workout, I call over one of the ‘On-Call’ slaves waiting to assist any Master in the gym. 

It rushes over and kneels beside the bench I’m sitting on. 

I look down at it and say, “Go help my boy clean itself out after it relieves itself on the toilet. Bring it back to me when it is cleaned out. Boy, this will be somewhat new for it. Its mother helped it during its introduction week of slavery before its permanent enslavement. Teaching it to do it independently now will be good. So, make sure it understands how to clean its hole thoroughly!” 

The slave nods, “Yes, Master!” and walks over to my slave, whispers in his ear, and then nods at me. My slave then looks at me with a smile.  Our eyes meet, and it knows it’s an order from me. I see it’s already getting excited. Hoping this means I will fuck it soon.  

They head to the restroom while I increase the range of its wireless leash. Every modern restroom around the world has slave toilets designed with enema attachments. All slaves are required to clean out after each use of the toilet. The ‘On-Call’ slave will teach it well and even lube its hole afterward. 

The enema water has a unique added probiotic designed to keep the lower intestines working correctly. The lube has natural healing properties to help with any small tears on the anal walls. So, slaves are taken care of since they are so valuable. 

After my workout, my boy is escorted back to me. I push a finger into its hole to ensure it was correctly prepared. Yes, it’s well-lubed. I pull out my finger and lick it. It tastes clean. 

I pat both boys’ asses, “Well done, boys. Its hole is ready for my use.”

So, as a reward, I bend my boy over a weight-lifting bench, pull down my shorts, and push the head of my 10 inches into its lubed-up hole. After all, I must test whether the boys did a good job.

Sweet! I slip in with little effort, but it still grips my cock nicely.  I always love a tight hole. A boy’s hole is nothing like a female’s pussy. It’s so much tighter, giving the Alpha so much more pleasure. Plus, this hole is still pretty much a virgin despite being doubled fucked yesterday. But one massive fuck will not ruin a boy’s hole.  

Besides, there are ways to train a boy’s hole to stay tight despite being opened wide like yesterday. 

The “On-Call” boy did a good job cleaning and lubing up my boy.  So I smile when Professor Masood comes in with his boyfriend and longtime slave. They take a bench next to us. I nod at the professor as he lies back on the bench while his slave rushes to put weight on the barbell. The boyfriend, now a senior and his assistant teacher, spots him. As I continue to fuck my boy, I admire the professor’s form. Dam! He’s an impressive man. You can feel the confidence he radiates as he enters a room. He just expects everyone to do what he wants without being told to do so. 

The slave on call is there, ready with a cold water bottle and a clean hand towel to wipe the sweat away.  His personal slave kneels on the bench, rubbing his cock as he presses an impressive amount of weight. His boyfriend spots him as he pushes himself to the limits.  All he has to do is push himself to keep his body in shape, as all Alphas want for themselves. 

When he sits up, the ‘On-Call’ slave wipes his forehead, back, and chest while handing him the water. The slave takes the water when the professor is done with it. All the while, his personal slave pulls down his shorts and sucks him to half mass. After resting a minute, he’s back at it. 

It’s fantastic watching this Alpha in his element. It’s something all Alphas are inspired to be like. On top of that, he is a prince who will someday rule his country.  His country has had voluntary slavery for years. So he’s perfect! I lick my lips as I watch this half-naked man’s muscles pop in his arms and chest.  It only makes me want to fuck my boy harder.  

All you here in the room are grunts, sucking sounds, and fresh smacking as I pound my boy faster and harder!  It’s like watching porn in the old times.  Nowadays, you can see live scenes everywhere. Sex with slaves in public is now accepted as normal. That’s why the professor ignored me fucking my slave in the gym. Unlike my Dad’s generation, sex is something natural and not to be hidden behind closed doors.  So there is no more raped or sexual assault between free people. You have slaves to take out your aggression on instead of your life partners. Of course, you can’t rape something you own like slaves. That’s the beauty of owning slaves. 

So, that’s what I did, hammering at my boy’s hole while admiring the men I aspire to be like.  With a loud grunt, I dump my seed into my boy, then fall on top of his back. 

Now! I’m level with the man’s fantastic cock while he, too, rests before moving to his next exercise.  I take in the beautiful symbol of his Alpha status in all of its glory. WOW! It’s perfect up close. The uncut head is displayed prominently on a long, thick shaft, standing on top of two hairy baseball-sized balls. I imagine all the seeds they can collect, filling whatever hole he wishes to fill. Any boy would be proud to receive his seed. Shit! Staring at it up close, I might be convinced to fill my hole, too! 

As I admire him, he lifts my chin, forcing me to look into his face. Then, in a deep, commanding voice, “What is your name?” 

Now nervous, “Mitch, Sir!” 

“Well, Mitch, do you like what you see?”

I nod. 

“Good! I like to take some Alphas under my wing to assess their potential as one of my assistant teachers. Come to my home at 6:00 for dinner. Wear your school’s dress uniforms for special occasions. We can talk about the details I have planned for you! Assuming you accept my offer.”

“Yes Sir, I will be there. Thank you, Sir!”

He pats my face lightly after releasing my chin. 

“Now! Go clean up. I’m sure you have classes to get to.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for the opportunity. I’m looking forward to hearing about your plans.”

Finally, composing myself, I rise and pull out of my boy. Then rush off to the showers, not bothering to cover up my hard cock that just reacted to this Alpha’s display of dominance. 

My boy washes me as I think about the incredible opportunity I have been given. I have heard of guys who have been his assistants. They have become among the most successful Alphas / Masters in the country. Why does he want me in my formal school uniform? That’s unusually reserved for graduations or collaring ceremonies. 

My boy and I stretch again, and then I unlock my locker by pressing my finger to a sensor in the door. The door pops open. I look at my boy as I stand there naked, waiting.  He quickly understands and dresses me. It’s more of my training via Jake.  Yet, I look in the mirror and have to correct a few things I prefer, like how much I like my shirt tucked in. Nothing that would cause me to punish him right now. But I do explain what it did wrong. 

He apologizes anyway, “Sorry, Master!”

I reward him with a pat on the beautiful ass, rubbing my index finger along the crack. 

“It’s OK. Just remember for next time.”

I feel some leftover seed in its hole, so I feed it to him until it stops leaking. 

“Now, boy, keep its hole tightly closed until the rest of my seed is properly absorbed.”

It nods with a smile on its red face, “Yes, Master!” 

Good! It still can be humiliated. That’s something to remember. 

I change the wireless leash to 3 feet and head off to my first class of the day. 

We arrive just in time for my chemistry class with 5 minutes to spare.  So, I snap my fingers and point between my legs.  As a well-trained slave, it crawls between my legs.  It responds to my fingers snapping due to the training that I had Jake do. All through middle school and high school, I watched Jake snap his fingers, and my slave would come running.  Jake would even do it while the boy was talking with teachers or fellow students.  I had to laugh when its head popped up at hearing the familiar snap.  It would stop whatever it was doing and come running!  Of course, as a submissive, no one questioned its response to its Alpha.  Especially after the slavery movement started with the “Managed Bullying” program that swept through the high schools.  

I look down at it, “Free me and hold me in its mouth. No sucking! I need to concentrate.”

It whispers, “Yes, Master!” 

Then pulls out my cock, holding just my head in its mouth. Good, now, if I need to piss, my boy will be ready. I look around to see many of the other Master’s ordering their slaves to do the same. 

The quiz goes well. I relieved myself halfway through, so it’s a good thing Jake trained it to meet my standards. 

After the quiz, the professor has us do labs for the rest of the class. Of course, my boy gets all the equipment I need for the experiments. It’s nice having a personal slave to tend to me instead of the “On-call” slaves. I had to use the “On-call” slaves for anything I needed in each class. They are well trained, but there is nothing like having your own personal slave who knows what to do before you ask. My boy has some of that training via what Jake did, but there is much more it needs to know about my personal needs. It will learn them all in no time. After all, it was born to do so. 

Its father shared its gene test. It’s 99% submissive. It’s the highest a boy can be. So, it was born to become mine. The world is now much more pleasant and peaceful now that volunteer slavery has spread to most countries of the world. There are no more wars, hunger, fighting, or senseless violence. Alphas of the world take out their aggressive nature on their slaves who enjoy it. Usually, the more sadistic an Alpha is, the more masochistic the slave is. Match-making AI programs are now a requirement before a Master can claim the boy. The AI scans the boy’s behavior throughout his young life and determines how masochistic it is. Then, if Master wants to claim it, there has to be a 95 percent match. This came about from the “Managed Bullying” program our founding Masters created before slavery was the law. 

So, no Master can’t be accused of abuse since the AIs do the match-making. 

I take my slave to half of my classes.  He serves my needs so I can focus on learning.  He not only gives my bladder and balls relief but also fetches drinks or snacks for me. His collar records the teacher’s lectures, and at the end of the day, he has to summarize them for my notes that I can then use to study for the following tests.  This allows me to take more classes than when my Dad went to college.  Plus, I can focus more on what the professors say and not worry about taking notes.

For the second half of the day, I’m taught classes on the art of domination and the control of slaves.  I have excel in these classes as well.  All my teachers praise me for my dedication to the art.  No wonder I have been studying the art of dominating all my life.  My slave was the canvas for my art.  I learned what to do right and why it needs to be done.  You see, it’s not just how you handle a whip but how you whip the mind of the slave to your will.  It’s the art of manipulation that makes a great Master.  The slave needs to know it can’t outthink his owner.  With Jake as my submissive, I saw how a slave could try to “top from the bottom”, as they say.  Jake tried it, and I outsmarted him every time.  

In some of the “Art of domination” classes, teachers used school slaves to try to trick me into serving them instead of what I wanted.  But that didn’t work with me and the teachers saw it, so I got high marks on all their lab tests.  For me, it was simple because Jake had tried them all on me.  Even my boy tried to pull that shit on Jake when he bullied him.  But I ensured Jake saw through it and put the boy in place.  That made my slave respect Jake even more, and in the end, because it came from me, he respects me more than Jake.         

As I’m in my “Art of Domination” classes, my slave is in its “Art of Submission” classes.  He, too, excelled on his first day of classes.  I’m not surprised. He learned how to be submissive from me.  That’s what I’m most proud of.   Well, its submissive genes help, too!

After our last class of the day, my slave runs up to me as we head back to my dorm room to change for Professor Masood’s dinner invite. I have my slave quickly dress me in my school’s uniform.  

As we walk toward Professor Masood’s home, I ask, “Has the AI been giving it training throughout the day?”

“Yes, Master. The AI continues to train your slave how you expect it to behave.”

“That’s good to hear!  Yet, it knows what its Master wants more than most new slaves do, doesn’t?”

It smiles knowingly, “Of course, yes, Master.”

I laugh, “Yeah, it has been serving me all its life without really knowing it was.”

“Yes, it has, Master.  It never knew Master’s plan for it to be enslaved until a day ago.  Master is very cunning and smart.  It’s one of many reasons this slave wants to serve its Master.”   

I pat my slave on the naked butt as I set the virtual leash to 3.5 feet and walk down the sidewalk to the professor’s home. 

We pass several Masters/Mistresses with both male and female slaves. I nod knowingly to them as we understand we all are where we belong. 

Soon, we reach the professor’s home on campus. It’s one of the largest houses on campus and has beautiful, modern architecture. As I admire the sleek, contemporary design of the house, my black friends, Jimmy and Johnny, walk up from the opposite direction. 

I smile at them, “Oh! Were you guys invited to dinner with the professor, too?”, seeing that they are in school uniforms.

Johnny replies, “Yeah, the professor asked us to come to dinner,” each hugs me, 

Jimmy takes over, “We are wondering why the professor asked us to dinner.”

Then Johnny again, “You know, the Professor takes on student assistance each year.  It is an honor to be selected.”  

It’s common for the twins to finish each other’s thoughts.  After a few months of being friends, I got used to it.    

We turn to face the house and walk up to the front door.  I lead the way with my slave in tow.  Once we reach the door, I snap my fingers and point to my side.  My slave quickly drops to my side. As I ring the doorbell, I pat my boy’s head as it bows its head in respect.  Johnny and Jimmy stand beside me, with their white boys kneeling beside them.

——— Jakes POV ———

‘Fuck, Fuck, shit’ I started shouting down the microphone ‘their sombra’s on me, I need heals.’ My character, Reaper turned to duel the Sombra, mashing my controller and blasting her with my shotguns, forcing her to teleport away with only a little health remaining.

‘On my way,’ I heard Stephen’s voice clearly down the microphone, his character Moira fading beside me before regenerating my health.

Thanks’ I muttered, ‘this sombra’s fucking me up’

Ricky’s voice appeared in my ear ‘Mate, thought you’d like her fucking you, you spammed the chat with enough fan art of her’ I laughed, it was true, I had stumbled on a subreddit with loads of fan art of her, drawing the petite Hispanic woman in different positions, sharing them as a joke to the chat

‘Wouldn’t say no like’ I quipped back, ‘but right now it’s no bueno’

‘Not doing it for you.’ Ricky continued joking, ‘Dommy mommy Zarya more your thing today?’ referencing the female Russian weightlifter that was one of the characters

‘Yeah, she’d make me feel safe,’ I joked back, ‘still Parah for you’

‘You know it,’ Ricky continued, ‘and if you want to feel safe I’ll cuddle you next time you suck my dick’

‘Nah, mate – ‘ I started my retort

Stephen interrupted, ‘Guys, the payload?’ I started paying attention to the screen again to see him holding them back alone diving between the enemies, stopping them advancing.

‘Fuck, where’s the rest of our team’ I cursed down the phone heading there, knowing full well I should have been there myself.

‘Don’t worry, Reins here to save the day’ Ricky interceded, before a giant 7 ft armour clad man charged into the fray, squashing one of the enemies

‘Nice’ Stephen cheers, moving his character into his shadow. It didn’t take long for us to turn the tide and get rid of them.

The enemy gone I decided it was Stephens turn to get embarrassed, ‘So does Daddy rein do it for you Stephen?’ I asked. I could imagine Stephen blushing on the other end of the call.

‘No -‘ Stephen started, his voice higher than normal

‘Yeah mate,’ Ricky had joined in, ‘he’s all about that Hanso – right Stephen’

‘No -‘ Stephen started flustered. I really could imagine him going red now.

‘So, if you had to fuck one who’d you pick? ‘ Ricky interjected again.

‘None – guys the object-‘

“Come on mate, no judgement, Ricky would take Parah’ 

‘Yep, she’d get it’  he agreed down the phone

‘And I’d get held by my dommy mommy,’ I laughed, ‘so how about you – lifeweaver?’ I asked, referring to one of the new characters, an attractive twink healer

‘No, god no’ Stephen started 

‘So who?’ Ricky asked

He was silent for a minute,’ Fine, fine’ I could almost hear the giggle in his voice. ‘if I had to choose one it would be McCree’

I had to stop from laughing, ‘Shit, the cowboy?’

‘Giddy up Stephen’, Ricky started to shout down the phone, the two of us crying ‘Yee haw’ at the same time.

‘Fuck you both’ he started laughing to us, ‘It’s not his model, it’s the voice -‘

I put on a southern American accent, ‘so pard’ner – this is what gets your nether regions tingling?’

‘No, fuck off, no. He’s voiced by Matt mercer on critical role?’

‘that DnD show you watch?’ Ricky asked.

The enemy had started to gather around the payload now, pushing Ricky and Stephen back.

‘Well guys, if learning Stephen had a thing for cowboys doesn’t get you bricked up, this will’

“I don’t have a thing for cow –“ Stephen started shouting down the microphone

I ignored him. I teleported my character ontop of the payload, unleashing my ult, creating a death blossom in the middle of the enemy team. The screen kept pinging with enemy eliminations, the game shouting ‘Team kill’ as the last one dropped. The game ended seconds later, a blazing banner of victory filling the screen, seconds later ult being shown as play of the game.

‘Nice ult’ Stephen cheered

‘Well, he had to do something this game’ Ricky teased.

‘Fuck you Ricky, that play was sick. Not going to lie, got me bricked up’ I reached down and snapped my hard dick out of my boxers, rubbing it with my palm.

‘Fuck dude, seriously’ Ricky laughed

‘Hey, Stephen telling us how I need to get him stir-ups when he rides me got me halfway there.’ I laughed, ‘but seriously I need to take care of this before we get another game on’ I said, taking us from the queue.

‘Really’ Ricky said incredulously

‘You can’t have your star player distracted. Besides it’ll take five mins’ I said, starting to lean back and stroke myself ‘if it bothers you mute me’

“More like two” Ricky joked, “Nah, if we have to listen to your grunts you can listen to ours. Come on Stephen’

‘What?’ Stephen sounded shocked

‘Don’t pretend you’re not hard.” Ricky continued, “Let’s knock one out then get another match’

Stephen didn’t say anything, as we all sat in silence, stroking ourselves. I heard a keyboard clicking before I got a ping from discord. I clicked it to see Ricky had sent an image of Sombra mouth wide sucking a dick, cum leaking from the corner of her mouth.

‘Fuck sake Ricky – can’t add anyone else to his chat now’ laughing between strokes. I went online and found a similar imagee of Parah.

‘Yeah, more of that, that’s the shit’ laughing along. We sent a few more back and forth giggling the whole time. ‘That one’s for you Stephen’ as an image of Mc Cree getting railed by Hanzo came onto the screen

‘ Dude ‘ he laughed,

‘Not doing it for you?’ I felt bold. ‘Fine, I’ve got something for you’

I pushed my chair back putting my feet on the table and turned on my webcam. I had only been wearing my boxers so I was now fully nude, stroking myself, dick visible on camera

‘Fuck’ Stephen moaned.

‘Yeah, you like it?’ I continued, “wish you were here to suck it don’t you?’

A moment later I saw Ricky’s webcam flash on as he lay back in his chair, naked as well, legs wide, his own boner visible stroking.

‘Nah, he’d rather be here wouldn’t you Stephen?’ Ricky laughed, bringing both hands between his meaty thighs.

I couldn’t help but think that maybe. I would as well. I concentrated back to my stroking ‘You cumming live with us Stephen?’ 

A second later Stephen joined us on webcam . He still had his t-shirt on and wasn’t displaying himself as much on the camera, but. I could see his arm stroking beneath the table.

‘Hot’ I muttered, ‘anyone else getting close’

‘Fuck yeah, I’ve like thirty seconds’ Ricky grunted

‘Race you?’

‘You’re on’ Ricky took to the challenge, jerking off so fast I thought his dick might catch fire. I was so focused on him that I almost missed Stephen start to moan and tense on screen.

‘Shit,’ I said not stopping ‘Stephen’s beating us to it’ A second later he stood still, brining his hand above the table and reaching for a tissue.

‘Stephen’s the dark horse in need of a cowboy, ‘ Ricky grunted, ‘ ‘But I’m getting second”

He stood up and walked closer to the webcam still stroking. I couldn’t see his face, but he reached his palm open in front of his dick and proceeded to shoot into it, holding up his load to the camera for us all to see.

“Nice” I laughed, “guess I’m last – but fuck guys here I come”

I kept stroking, lifting my hips slightly with my feet as I came myself, my ass clenching as I shot my thick load onto my stomach. Panting I grabbed the webcam and brought it up to my cum, “Fuck guys, look at all that cum. You really do wish you were here Stephen”

“Fuck off” he joked, but I could see his eyes getting wider on screen.

I blew him a kiss and we all laughed, I wiped my cum off on my t-shirt before throwing it in the laundry, and slipped my boxers back on, before returning to the screen.

“One more game?” I asked grinning

Episode 1 – Cock-a-doodle-do

I was thinking about getting you here for a weekend. Put a collar and chain on you the moment you arrive and tell you to take your clothes off and lead you to the terrace where I tie you up to the fence in the shade.

Then I prepare the front room for you. My friend (a professional piercer) arrives and prepares.

I tie your hands behind your back and put you in a rubber hood with an internal pump-up gag and your eyes covered. I pump the gag up just enough so that you dribble and can’t speak.

Then I lead you into the front room where you lie down in comfort. Then I tie your arms and legs out spread-eagled on the floor so any attempt to struggle free is futile.

Then I get out the piercer’s desensitising spray, feed a bump of ketamine up your arse and give you some poppers which you have to breathe in through your mask…

You start to feel incredibly horny, and touching any part of you gives you electric-like tingles which force your ever-hardening cock into the air. Which is useful.

Because I then spray a part of your body so that you won’t feel anything as the piercing needle goes through your pinched open piss tube and straight down through the underside glans. It’s not painful, but the sensation is so powerful you go into a calm trance as you feel a thick piece of metal follow the piercing needle into the top of the cock and pushed through to come out the underside of the priapic member standing to attention for the piercer and me. You then feel your cock being tugged from inside and hear a small clink as you realise that you’ve been given a PA. You can’t hold back and your dick pulses uncontrollably and within seconds you’ve shot the biggest load you can remember. The sensation of the cum rubbing past your new ring, spinning it round till the ball hits your glans on the outside makes you jerk more and within seconds after cumming you suddenly shoot another load, not just over your body, but me, the piercer and the mirror behind us. Even the cameraman gets spunked and has to wipe the camera lens. All the time no one has touched you after the piercing went in – you just came with the thought of that PA hanging out of your cock.

After a few minutes when you rejoin the real world you feel a beautiful cold sensation on the head of your metal dick as the piercer uses antiseptic to leave it clean and safe.

You’re dying to see what it looks like but you’re still blindfolded. Then you feel your right hand being freed and a thin medical rubber glove being put on it. Then you can feel lube being liberally smeared all over it.

“OK, boi. You can feel what your new addition is. But approach it slowly and handle your nob gently.”

With faster breath you slowly start to touch your helmet, and you feel 4 mm of thick stainless steel locked into your still stiff member. This discovery is such a shock that it makes you go hot and almost faint as your mind reels in ecstasy and you shoot a third load as hard as the first two.

You come to, lying in a bed, with your hood removed but feet tied to the bed and what look like black boxing gloves strapped and padlocked onto your hands. Just black leather balls on the end of your arms.

A hooded man head to toe to fingertip in black rubber brings a straw to your lips and you suck up beautiful fresh cold water. You’re not sure if any of this has been real – even right now.

“Sit up and look at yourself in the mirror, boi” You gasp.

Your body is completely unpierced. It’s amazing what a bump of ketamine, a few light bits of electro, some simple props and the power of suggestion can do

Episode 2 – The shave

You start taking deep breaths as your deepest fantasies are realised but never thought they would happen. Suddenly your dick starts to pulse and before you have a choice a spume of cum shoots out splashing on your face and dousing the walls. You start to feel warm and ecstatic, as though you’re floating on air. You’re light-headed but so happy. A smile starts across your face. This is good because it enables the piercer to grab your lip. You are puzzled for a moment then begin to feel a clamp over your lower lip, and then a sharp pain. Your eyes focus as you see your reflection in the mirror, now with a labret.

You can’t believe what’s happening. It’s what you have always wanted, but didn’t wanted. Yes, it’s what you want, but you know you can’t have it. Your life isn’t like this. Your workmates at the bank, even your gay friends – they can’t see you like this. It was just a fantasy.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You look at the piercer and for the first see that he is white hot. Cheek bones, six-pack, the lot. You can’t move as the ropes are nice and tight, but hardly struggle in the comfortable bondage to a muscled angel curling his lips and smiling at you in such satisfaction. You’re past cumming now and have entered a state of heightened bliss.

“That’s enough for now, you sexy boi”, says the piercer. “I’m Pearce.” (“Oh, for fuck’s sake, that’s so corny,” you think.)

“No, really, that’s my real name”, he follows, as though you had spoken aloud. “I saw you looking through those tattoo photos earlier at the hairdressers.”

Hairdressers? How does he know? He was there? What’s going on? Shit, this is deeper than I thought. Fuck.

“I saw you pausing much longer on those tribal head tattoos.” But with that sharp, hot haircut, you’ve still got hair over your head. Can’t do a head tattoo with hair on!”

You realise that you can actually speak. The gag’s been out for several minutes but you have been speechless.

“Huh? I’m not sure I – you mean you’re – oh shit no – please no – it was just a fantasy.” “That turns you on big time.”

“Yeah, but.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do it now.”

“We’ve got to get you into some bleachers and a tight Fred Perry, some boots and a nice pair of braces.”

“But, but, my work? I can’t go to work like that?” “Wanna bet?”

“No – please, …”

You start to get a massive purple hard on. You so want it but so don’t want it. You are getting more and more light-headed. You start to yield and relax as your real world thoughts start to vanish and your deepest desires come to the fore.

“It really turns me on, but I cou-“

A gag goes on. Four hunks head to toe in black rubber come in to the room and each grabs a wrist or ankle. Your ties are taken off. But you are still held.

“Stand up, boi.”

He comes towards you with a pair of bleached 501s. With red braces already attached. “OK. Left leg in. That’s it. Now right leg.”

You feel the tight denim cling to your legs. He pulls the jeans up which fit like a glove. A tight rubber glove. He presses your pulsating dick into the left side of the fly and buttons you up. Tightly. You cannot believe the feeling. You cannot understand how this happened. You love it. You’re frightened.

“OK. Boots.”

“Just 20-hole cherry reds. We don’t want to be conspicuous, do we? He-he!”

The two fit guys holding your ankles start to put on and lace up the boots so quickly they’re done up and fastened tight around your calves. The feeling of the bleachers against your legs and now the boots which are so unbelievably comfortable but which you can feel as though they’re welded on…

“OK. A nice XS dark blue Fred Perry will do nicely. Put him in it, lads.”

The two wrist attendants lift your arms up and before you know it you are sealed into a fresh new Fred Perry, tucked into the jeans, and the braces put over your shoulders. Your jeans are leaking with so much precum it looks like you’ve pissed yourself.

“OK lads. Put him back in position.”

You’re put back lying down but with your head in some type of brace. You can’t move. You can’t look from side to side.

Everyone else leaves the room. The lights go out. You are in total darkness.

“What the fuck?” You are now becoming really scared, but still with an almighty hard on.

You suddenly think through your haze, “this beats Alton Towers any day.” You smile and laugh at the trite thought, then your heart starts to race again as you realise something real is happening. What you’ve always dreamt about. But which you though you could never do. The thoughts about your real world start to fade as you fully start to accept your situation, and sweat and horniness take over.

You don’t know how long it’s been when the lights go on again.

A well-built, muscled man approaches – he’s quite young but unusually fit and masterful in his bearing. You stare at his face. A clean cut beautiful left side of his face, which you immediately reel at, but then he turns his head to show his full black tribal tattoo covering all the right side of his face. He’s is beautiful. Why has he done this to himself? You hesitate with thoughts racing through your mind and then decide that the permanent facial marking just makes him more beautiful and even hotter.

You come. Your bleachers get wetter and wetter.

One of the guys that held your wrists earlier comes in. He’s got clippers and a razor. “OK. Hold tight boi, this is going to be a trip and a half! Ha!”

You can’t move in your head brace. But none of it touches anywhere where your hair is. The pillow is removed from under your head and the head rest is put down. Your head is now suspended in mid-air.

Trip-and-a-half man turns on the clippers and there’s that busy hum. Before you can say ‘shit’ the clippers graze your scalp and you can fell the hair coming off. Within less than a minute the clippers are turned off.

“Just need the left side shaved, boi”.

He flannels hot water onto your shaved side of the head, then sprays shaving gel and massages it in.

“This need to be nice and close, eh, boi?” “EH, BOI?”

“YES, SIR!” you shout. You’ve never called anyone Sir before. It just came out. You feel home at last. You are wallowing in contentment. But still on edge and still hard – so hard you think your dick is going to tear your bleachers open any minute.

He glides the razor over your head. You’ve never felt this before. You can’t believe how sensuous it feels. You dribble unconsciously and start to feel it down your chin, which turns you on even more.

As you catch your breath, you see him bring forward a tray with tattooing equipment on. You pass out.Episode 3 – Grand Canyon

You start taking deep breaths as your deepest fantasies are realised but never thought they After some weird dreams, you wake up but not sure whether the dreaming has stopped. A beautiful hot muscled man looks over you and you see two rows of eight spikes making a metal mohawk in his head. The words ‘died’ and ‘heaven’ go through your thoughts. This is so fucking hot, but please, don’t let it be real. I know it’s what I’ve been jerking off to for oh so long, but that was just fantasy…

Mohawk says to you, ‘You OK, boi?’ You instinctively say’ Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!’ (Where does this response come from?)

OK. You need to just breathe deeply and slowly and just let a smile dawn across your gorgeous face. Your plain, pure, gorgeous face.

You feel some sort of head restraint fitted and you can no longer move your head in any direction. Suddenly a ball gag is thrust into your mouth at the same time you feel slimy wet something on your arse – no, up your arse. The chair you’re on has ‘rear access’ you realise. What feels like a few fingers start to work your arse and slowly after several minutes… maybe 30 minutes, it feels like four fingers are up there – no – no – it can’t be – my arse doesn’t stretch that…

You take a very large deep breath and know that Mohawk has his whole fist up your arse. This cannot be happening. It must take months to… You feel his fingers and fist rotate and pleasure your insides and then what must be his index finger started to stroke your prostate. Not just stroke it, he’s flicking it hard with his finger. This is an unbelievable feeling – as though ten ton trucks are rolling up and down your prostate – it’s unbearable, bearable, unbearable, bearable, shiiiit! Oh my fuck, ahh, ahhh, ahhhh!

Mohawk wipes the cum off you and the chair with his free hand, then over what seems likes days slowly pulls his fist out of your arse – it’s like he’s pulling through miles and miles of tight skin. Finally his hand is freed and you start to feel like an ad for the Grand Canyon in living color. Has your arse closed, or is it – as it feels – still gaping open waiting for… well waiting for… something…

That’s a baseball bat. He’s putting a condom on it. You are transfixed. He lubes the condom until the white sticky mess is dripping off the bat. The bat disappears and you know where it is going next. He does it slowly, but you want it more, and faster. Why do I so crave this wood up my crack so much? What is happening to me? You feel someone remove your gag, but you are too freaked out to speak.

Things are different. The room starts to change shape just slightly. You’re not afraid – you click that somewhere along the line you’ve been spiked – not just up the cranny, but in your head. It must be acid. Maybe K. No it’s definitely acid. The baseball bat now feels about six inches in diameter but you want it bigger, fatter. You involuntarily scream out, ‘More Sir! Please give me more Sir I love it Sir! I love you Sir! Anything… anything you want Sir! Please give it to me, Sir!’

There is a period of just beingness. Joy, Ecstasy. You feel you could take a football team of hands up your jacksie all at once. It feels like milliseconds, or is it eons? – that have passed.

As the bat starts to be withdrawn, so you start to focus on the room again. How long has it been? You experience a sated euphoria like never before. There’s a slight smell of antiseptic or something. Clean, fresh. One side of your face feels particularly sharp and comfortable. Sharp and comfortable? – how does that work?

Reality starts to whirl around you, your mind and your body. You remember where you are (or at least build up a picture of where you think you may be). Mohawk leans over and smiles – you almost come again looking at this Adonis of a man.

‘Everything OK?’ ‘Not in any pain, I hope?’

‘No, Sir!, Thank you, Sir! (Where did you learn to speak like that?) ‘Everything is fine. I feel really great, honestly, Sir!’

‘Good! That was an entertaining six hours. I loved watching Pearce working on you. You look even more fuckin’ horny than before.’

It starts to sink in. Something you didn’t appreciate was going to happen happened. But you’re not sure what. You’re still a bit in cloud-cuckoo land, floating on cotton wool.

Then the horror dawns slowly on you – you think of the sun dawning slowly that one time you were at Stonehenge at the Solstice. ‘What’s happened? What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’

Pearce moves over and smiles at you. The chair you’re strapped into starts to become upright. Your eyes start to focus properly. There is a full length mirror in front of you.

Noooooooooo!

Episode 4 – Tatpup

You start taking deep breaths as your deepest fantasies are realised but never thought they You are simultaneously turned on and horrified. You fantasised about this. But – maybe it’s just a joke. Maybe it’s just like those temporary tattoos at Brighton Pride. No. It’s not. The entire left side of your head is now a black tribal tattoo snaking all the way down the left side of your face. It’s fuckin’ beautiful.

Your trippiness disappears for a moment – how the shit am I going to work with that? How do I face – face, HA! – my mum? She hated my little armband. Fuck. Oh, god – this is so wonderful. You fall back into the acid. Your markings start to animate – it’s what you always thought would be done one day – animated tattoos. Please. Please! Your fist again, Sir! Please, Sir! What is going on? You’re pleading to be fisted. 24 hours ago you’d be horrified someone could get a Kit-Kat up there.

Mohawk obliges. But he takes it very slowly. And on your trip it seems likes days pass before it slips in with a little ‘glop!’

It feels like your arse is a washing machine churning over the clothes on a warm wash. First one way, then a pause, then the other. When Mohawk gets to the spin cycle you leave your consciousness and everything is. Just everything is.

When you wake up, you’re in a large room with sunlight streaming yellow through the open French windows with a cool breeze billowing the sheer curtains. You wonder whether this some kind of film set for Scarlett. Your mind’s not completely clear: that’s been made – mid 90s, wasn’t it? Then you take a breath and realise that you’ve actually just had a pretty fabulous horny dream.

But your tits ache a bit. So you rub them – OW! What the – ? Two shining rings, the thickness of, well, the thickness of things that couldn’t possible go through your nips. What, 5 mm? Suddenly you get hard and want to wank. Get a towel first. (Old habits die hard. Blame those covert wanks under the bedclothes at home when you were a teenager.) You walk past to what you think must be the bathroom through a corridor with full length mirrors on both sides and realise it might have been a dream, but it came true. You gaze at your scalp and face – astonished at the stunning tattoo from the back of your head to your jowl. Your right side is completely untouched. Then you clock the midnight blue mohawk carved into your head – set a little to the right, not central, as if it’s giving way to the majesty of your tattoo. Your dick hardens again and you grab it to wank feeling the PA between your thumb and forefinger. Oh, shit, that’s good. You tug it unconsciously, but it doesn’t hurt, it just feels unbelievable. Before you know it you’ve already cum right up one of the mirrors. Entering into the bathroom, you decide to have a shower. But then you wake up and smell the coffee. Yep. Real coffee, waiting by the side of the sink. Hot coffee. As you drink it, you then wonder how it’s hot, how someone knew you were there, having woken up, timed it right, got all –

Hi, Tatpup! It’s Mohawk. In tight red rubber. With his dick sticking out a mile, also in tight rubber. Uh? “Are those your balls?”, you spontaneously spout. “Yeah, just a litre and a half of nice salt water keeps them big and bouncy”. They must be four or five inches big, and swing between his legs as he stands like Mr Muscle. “Have your shower”, he smiles, just standing there just being everything you’ve ever wanted. You shower. He dries you. You begin to relax and think at last all that stuff is over now. Or at least hope it is. As he dries you, he deftly

He ropes your hands behind your back and leads you back to the bedroom and pushes you face down on the bed. He slops lube around and in your arse fingering you, and you realise he’s going to get his fist up there again. But he doesn’t. He pulls you up on your knees with your head supporting you on the pillow as he slides, ever so slowly, his fat cock in and out of the mouth of your arse, going in a tiny bit more at each thrust. It must be 10 minutes later when your mind is on a different plane and you feel the whole cock go in like impatient women when the doors finally open at the January sales. This is one bargain you never thought you’d get.

Episode 5 – A Right Charlie

In the morning you wake up in a room you’ve not seen before. Shiny white walls and ceiling – and then you realise you’re enveloped in black rubber – the sheets, the pillows, the duvet cover – and you. You’ve been sweating and are sliding around in the catsuit. There’s no zip at the front so you feel round the back to unzip yourself. Nope. No zip. It feels great, but it’s very sweaty. You were probably drugged so that you were completely dead to the world while the suit was put on you. You then feel the hood, tight, but comfortable.

“Oh, good morning tatpup”, says someone you’ve not seen before. A beautiful well-built twink, naked except for a steel collar and steel ankle cuffs – and steel boxers with a chastity device protruding out of them. More coffee. “You’re gonna see some changes today that you had never thought about – I promise. But first you’re going to need to shower.” Suddenly you are hit by a torrent of, thankfully, warm water as he aims the hose at you. The water bounces off you and the bed and rubber sheets onto the floor and you see a plughole in the floor where the runaway water drains. Steeltwink approaches you and mounts onto the top of the ball, locks his arms behind your hood and loses his tongue down your throat. Literally. After a couple of minutes of the most amazing osculation, as he pulls out of your mouth you can that his tongue has somehow been stretched – or maybe it’s been surgically enlarged – to an unfeasible length. You see him lick his forehead. Suddenly your stiffy gets much harder with the thought of living with that in your mouth.

You can start to feel your massive infused balls as you try to walk sluggishly towards the door when Steeltwink stops you, pulls back a flap in your suit and presses the hose into your suit. The powerful jet quickly pushes warm water, litre by litre, second by second, into your rubber. The suit instantly begins to bulge like the Michelin man, making it difficult to walk with all that weight. Before soon you have a tonne of liquid swirling around you in every direction. Steeltwink turns the hose off and pours some sort of yellow powder through the flap before closing it and sealing the water inside you. The seal is quite watertight around your neck, but again, still comfortable. You waddle at a snail’s pace while Steeltwink just laughs at you. Within 20 seconds you click what is happening, The water is becoming thicker like wallpaper paste – or maybe, as it thickens quickly – like treacle. You have been transformed into a helpless blob, with your dick and huge balls held in place somewhere in the goo.

“Ha! You look really funny – I love it! It’ll go with your new ears perfectly!” Oh shit – more surgery – fucking Spock ears.

He watches you shuffle squeezing through the door – the suit’s not hardening like cement, you are relieved to feel. But you are in a massive, almost spherical, rubber ball with two hands and two feet sticking out. You want to eat, but there’s no way you can feed yourself.

Steeltwink knows what you’re thinking and tells you, “I’m going to enjoy feeding you breakfast this morning. Sticky egg, messy muesli, Golden Syrup on toast…”

In the kitchen – fortunately spacious enough to contain you – you just stop, exhausted. You’re your own comfy chair. Steeltwink removes your hood and starts to feed you your morning meal. But he’s not very good at it. The runny egg ends up all over your face and chin, the soggy muesli misses your mouth more than makes it and eventually he just pours it over your head. He gives you a really good cup of tea which at least he seems to be more accurate with. And finally he spreads enormous amounts of treacly Golden Syrup over some toast and starts to feed it to you. You haven’t had Golden Syrup since – what – when you were a kid, maybe five or six years old, and you love the sweet taste which brings back childhood memories. Happy memories. But not memories of the tin being poured over your head to coagulate with the soggy muesli.

You see him through bleary, sticky eyes take a pair of scissors and cut two holes in the rubber hood. He puts the hood back on your head, over the glutinous mess which sticks to your face, acting like a mushy lube. Your ears stick out through the newly cut out holes. You guess that that’s what you’ll be wearing when your ears get modded.

Pearce comes into the kitchen, wheeling a trolley of surgical equipment. “Don’t worry”, he smiles, “you really won’t feel a thing.”

“Is that diuretic from the yogurt and the laxative in the Golden Syrup taking effect yet?” grins Steeltwink.

Yes it is, you realise, as your piss mixes with the gel in the front of your suit, and you shit black gold into it at the back. You are being controlled and humiliated for the pleasure of these two gorgeous men, And you get a perverted delight at the degradation, your cock hardening in again, this time into the slush and piss inside your latex bubble.

“Here, swallow this”, says Pearce. “It’ll make you feel fucking wonderful.” More than I feel at the moment? you wonder. Pretty quickly, whatever you knocked back starts its effects – and Pearce was right. You soon can’t wait to be made more of a freak with those pointy ears. It turns you on so much you cum into the gloop in sheer ecstasy.

“Some anaesthetic for your lovely old ears.” ‘Old’ grabs your attention. You hardly feel the needle go in, but enough to give you pleasure that you are submitting to this vision in front of you. Whose ears are getting pointier as you look at his green shiny, scaly skin. And his three dimensional dancing face tatts. Hallucinogen. Had to be.

For the hour or so that this twisted surgeon works on you, you are in an exquisite fantasy world. But it’s not an hour. When eventually you start to land back on earth it’s dark outside – you’ve been tripping all day. You have grown to like the feel of the rubber ball and wonder whether that’s going to be your spongey shell for quite a while, maybe forever. No it can’t be. They wouldn’t do that – they’re damned sure to want to get to the rest of my body to mutilate it.

“OK, Big Ears!” says Pearce. “Take a look at your new lugs!”

In the mirror you baulk – no pointy ears. But you can definitely see them – as large as life. Slightly larger than life, in fact. They stick out 90 degrees to your head and you look like Alfred E. Neumann. What, me worry?

“At last – something to grab hold of when the need arises.” “I hope you like them, plugpup!” he chortles.

The rubber hood is now firmly congealed onto your head and face, with your enormous sticky-outy ears making you look very princely.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. What am I being turned into?

Episode 6 – Material gains

Having accepted your latest body mod (since you always had a thing about men with sticky out ears), you play with them while having a wank that once again coats the walls.

But Pearce and all the rest were watching you, or at least you discovered when you opened your eyes.

“Right – time for a good shower and shave.” “Yes Sir”, you automatically replied.

After 45 minutes getting rid of every possible accessible hair you are told it’s time to have some perfect fitting skinhead gear.

“OK earpig. Get these bleachers on.”

You struggle into tight bleachers which fit like a glove. You obey and put a tight dark crimson Fred Perry on. Then some thick yellow socks with 20-hole cherry reds with yellow laces, finished off with yellow braces.

“Now. Stand upright and still.”

Trip-and-a-half man then produces a largish sewing needle and some thick light blue thread. He puts one hand down your bleachers and starts to sew your Fred Perry to your bleachers just below the belt loops. After 15 minutes your shirt is permanently sewn to your jeans – like some overalls – but with no way of taking them off. Then the buttoned-up front is sewn in place with dark red thread.

Next your braces clips are screwed and locked through your bleachers.

The bleachers are cut just to the top of your boots so that everyone can see the padlocks through the top two holes.

Then the inside of the sewn up cuffs of your jeans are glued to the top of your boots – the glue sticks fast. Immediately.

You are now permanently dressed in skinhead gear.

“I wouldn’t bother trying to cut any of it off. That’s not cotton. It’s a very strong fabric that makes Kevlar seem like candy floss.

You check the fly – yes, that opens. Then you think, shit, how am I going to, well, shit? Of course as you feel behind there’s a rear zip.

“You can shower in that. The shower gel will penetrate the material and you can wash your body easily underneath. The material dissolves the dirt and it just seeps out to the outside. The boots deal with the water in the same way.”

“We’ve been nice and left you to choose whether or not to wear your MA-1. But as the shirt glows bright red in even low UV light, for example, on an overcast day. You may wish to.”

“Here, have a beer.”

You grab it and down several mouthfuls.

“Sit down here. Wait a minute.”

That minute passed. You realise there’s something definitely hallucinogenic in the beer and start to get a full stiffy and feel as horny as hell.

You are gagging to be fucked, and the whole crowd oblige one after the other. You’ve come all over your new gear. Stained with cum.

“Oh yes. One problem with that material is that cum stains stick. We don’t seem to find any way to get them off.”

You come again.Episode 7 – Sleeping it on

You are allowed time to yourself. Watching porn videos featuring body mods of all sorts and creativity, rubbermen, leathermen, skinheads, army recruits, marines, workmen, mummification, siliconing a guy’s balls each permanently pumped up to the size of melons, piercing, sewing up lips and eyelids, encased in rubber or duck tape just able to walk with their hands cuffed behind their back led on a chain and heavy metal collars bolted on. You must have come five times if it was once that evening, leaving more permanent stains on your unremovable skinhead gear.

You cautiously approach the shower. You think, oh well, they said it would all cope with shower gel and water.

A powerful spray jet with washing gel hits your body, or more accurately to say your skinhead gear. But you can feel the water hit your skin underneath it all too. Everything bubbles up under the clothes and boots and as you finish you can see water leaking through the material and boots leaving a completely dry set of gear – and a clean dry you.

You get into your bed – in your newly cleaned gear feeling refreshed and smelling of clean man.

After a good solid eight hours sleep you are awoken with a coffee and croissant – quite civilised you thought.

But as you bite into the croissant something feels odd. Your teeth don’t bite into it the same. Feeling your teeth you feel they are all pointed. You get up and look in the full length mirror.

You have been fitted with titanium implants replacing all your old teeth.

“We can screw in any implants we want, sorry, you want, but we liked the spiked look. Which can do likewise with your matching steel mohawk on the right side of your head.”

You look up to discover six 2” high steel spikes implanted in your head from front to back, offset to the right.

“I think we’re finally turning our transformation slave into a real freak. I think we need to see how you fare in town doing the shopping in Lidl. Here’s a card, the PIN’s your age date and month – 0705. The shopping list is this.”

Just groceries. You are frightened of walking into public with people seeing all your modifications.

“Don’t worry. Tattpup will be your Master and hold your collar lead do you don’t stray. We’ll have fun. Well I will.”

Well if it’s going to be anyone completing my humiliation it might as well be Tattpup. You can feel your weighted dick rise squeezing past your massive balls producing a ridiculously big packet in your bleachers.

Tattpup orders you to walk behind him at all times. We’re getting the BUS there?!

Even though you don’t want anyone to see you, your hard on remains stiff throughout the trip. Every now and then a hot man walks up to you and calls you one of a variety of names from a set ranging from boi to cuntslave; one even addresses you ‘Sir!’ using an audible capital ‘s’.

Your cum stains mar otherwise beautifully fitting clean skinhead gear. Men notice. Most smile. And talk to Tattpup to get a contact number.

It’s then you realise it must be Saturday. I went to sleep Monday. The bastards put me in long sedation again. I haven’t checked for other mods they might have done.

You have to wait until your period of servitude finishes to look. But you are turned on and hard and happy.

You hope it lasts.Episode 8 – All Mod Cons

I was regularly plugged with a puppy tail poking out of my bleachers, the two zips threaded with a steel wire either side of the tail making sure it would stay in place. But it was also removed quite regularly to be replaced by a large wet juicy cock filling its place several times a day.

Pearce said I was lacking a bit in the packaging department.

OK boi! Next modification now due. You’d better drink this.

I now knew that I wanted more, I wanted to become that freak.

Yes Sir! That came so naturally now.

Entering into a haze of loved up bliss I just fell asleep.

I woke up in my bed, always now with rubber sheets, duvet and pillows. But still encased in my skin gear. My balls ached a bit. I rubbed them. I looked down and felt them.

You like ‘em, boi?! Nice big balls – feel the weight of the silicone in them. I thought four inches wide would be enough for you.

My balls filled my bleachers, pressing against the – well – denim, as they appeared to those who didn’t know.

I had a fucking enormous packet bulging through them. I unzipped the front and they fell out swinging from my jeans. The weight of them felt good. Then I realised I had what must be a dozen thick rings running up the skin between my balls – a Jacob’s Ladder. My cock started to cream yet again. But trying to wank, they bounced up and down unbearably. Until I came.

It took a while to push them back into my jeans and getting the zip back up.

I brushed my hand over my head which reminded me of my metal mohawk. I started to get hard again and just fell on the rubber sheets and added more cum stains to my shirt.

I opened my eyes and before I could move four rubber men pulled me up and laid me on the floor. Before I knew what was happening I was sealed between two sheets of rubber and a tube put through the top sheet into my mouth. Suddenly the sheets tightened around me and I couldn’t move. A vac bed.

My tail had been removed and I was helpless.

We’ll leave him there for a few hours till he’s nice and sweaty. Dribble some MDMA down his pipe so at least he’ll enjoy it.

I felt hands feeling me all over. That was fantastic. Then a shock to my grossly enlarged balls.

You’ve heard of a violet wand boi?

I was in blissful pain. That wonderful feeling when you scratch and squeeze your ball sack in the shower, and point the power shower head directly onto your prick and balls with really hot water. This was better. It felt OW OUCH it satisf OWWCH tisfied the aching deep inside me to be controlled and having someone – some people – some men – some horny men –

who get pleasure from giving me torturous pleasure. Unable to move any part of my body not knowing when or where the OW OW AH OH OUCH next zap will be. Just kept on saying ‘Thank You, Sir! Please Sir!’ as an automatic response which comes so naturally now and which I really mean. OUWWWCH AH OHHH AAAH… THANK YOU SIR! PLEASE MAY i HAVE SOME MORE, SIR?

It could have been minutes, hours or months that it continued. My sense of time just disappeared as I fell into delicious ecstasy. My cock was out of my jeans but under the rubber so I kept adding to the cum stains over my bleachers and Fred Perry and braces.

Then all went quiet. It seemed the team of happily sadistic perverts had left me for a while.

I eventually fell into a deep happy sleep. Disturbingly erotic lucid dreams which I could direct to fulfill my deepest desires. I dreamt my arse was being stretched with some steel device which pulled my arse apart slowly and gently but continuously until I kept thinking it could stretch no more. The MDMA must have helped me relax easily enough to open my hole. It felt like it must have become 6 inches wide – not painful at all, just ecstatic.

Then it was replaced with some sort of hard silicone ring to hold it open. Hang on. This is not a lucid dream any longer. This is happening. Now. I am getting rotated over so I’m suspended face down in midair. Oh. I must have been suspended before for them to get access to my arse easily. Then the rubber sheet I’m trapped in rotates me upright and then turns me upside down.

I thought the guys had left me but they had just become very quiet. I heard someone open a beer bottle , or what at least sounded like it.

You’ve been a good boi! We’re going to give you a couple of beers.

My arse started to fill up with liquid. I think three beers are poured into me while I’m upside down. The alcohol absorbs quickly into my arse and system and feel tipsy, no, drunk, within minutes.

I’m brought upright. The remaining beer drops out of my hollow arse hole.

You gotta hand it to him. He’s coping well. Thanks Rubby for the vac bed – it wasn’t nearly as risky getting each of those rubber spikes on the head bit over all of his steel mohawk spikes. It looks great too.

I feel a hand dip into my arse hole with no pain or stretching. But the fingering inside was taking me back to a state of ecstasy again. Another hand joined it shortly after. Then a third.

I wan’t sure this was real or my dream. Being fistfucked by three hands all feeling me inside and then each pulling in and out all out of sync with each other. By this time the combination of the MDMA and the beer took me to a higher state – it felt like there we’re hundreds of hands plunging in and out me like I was a BDSM version of a lucky dip that had just announced that one of the prizes was a million pounds.

Did I have a winning million pound ticket up my arse. Am I an ff Charlie Bucket or just a bucket charlie?

The hands started to get slower and fewer until I was left unfisted.

Now we’ve got your hole to a good size it’ll fit a lovely big puppy tail. Skintop can you get the 8 inch diameter one so it won’t slip out?

As an impossibly large piece of silicone was slowly but surely being pushed into my arse I was distracted by more shocks to my balls, cock and groin. I felt the thickest part slide through and lock into my arse.

I knew some boi would end up with this up him one day. I wonder whether we’ll ever get it out?

Well, plugpup, another reason fir your name now. The tail screws out so you can shit, but your arse is now permanently stretched to a nice 8 inches. We’ve been kind. You may screw in a flat silicone cap when we let you remove your tail. But you’ll certainly need something in it when you’re out in public to prevent it leaking!

My freak transformation was still progressing. I liked it. I wanted it. I want to give these – these SIRS – everything they want. Be their boi. Be their freak.

I fell asleep sandwiched in the latex upright. I woke up in a bed with denim bed linen out of the rubber jail apparently free to move. Coffee and croissants were on the table next to the bed. I savoured their taste and felt refreshed and, well happy and content.

I showered and shaved my head, face and eyebrows. I came as I polished my head metal.

My puppy tail was still in. I tried to unscrew it but it didn’t budge. Oh well. My permanent skinhead gear dried out quickly and looking in the mirror I took out my cock and massive balls through my flies and wanked off again seeing my irremovable modifications and clothing. Clothing which was clean and perfect except for a build up of cum stains.

Time for work, plugpup! Work? Where, Sir?

On the Council waste collection team. First day, so I’ll change your tail for a the flat cap. So you won’t be humiliated.

He gave an Owner’s wry smile and grinned showing he was in complete control of me.

Get into these overalls over your kit.

I took a grimy boiler suit which was ingrained with grease, oil and other identifiable marks. It smelt dirty. Rancid. You could hardly see it was hi-vis orange with reflective panels under all the muck.

Pulling it on over my boots I zipped it up and felt strangely turned on and started stiffening up between my bulging balls.

And here’s your cap. Perfectly designed so that your spikes can go through the holes made in the top.

The cap accentuated my newly modded Alfred E. Neuman sticky out ears. Time to meet the filthy bois who’ll be working with you today.

Three other guys in similarly fifty overalls were brought over to meet me. But I could see under the overalls one was obviously glued into a rubber catsuit, one was naked, apart from tit rings that were so large you could see the outline of them on his overalls – and his whole body was bright blue, with bright blue tattooed eyes with bright blue contact lenses, and one was in full leather including leather shirt with tie. It seemed probable that he was also locked into the leather permanently.

We were piled into the back of an old dirty Transit and taken to the depot to start our day. Right – blueboi, you’re the driver. rawblue, leatherboi and plugboi you’re the collectors.

This wasn’t the recycling truck. It was the landwaste real rubbish collection. As I collected various bins and hooked them on the truck to empty them bits of rubbish, liquids, rotting meat and other disgusting stuff spilled out on to me as I had to be under the bins as they emptied.

By the end of the day I was stinking of god knows what. My hands were caked in sticky rubbish as were my overalls.

Good job, bois! Back in the van and you can get to The All Mod Cons centre and maybe clean yourselves up.

The All Mod Cons centre. I had forgotten I was actually more or less a prisoner, but this was the first time I had heard the place had a name. All Modification Conversions I guessed it meant.

But was I now a dustman? It happened so quickly it only really sunk in when I got back and took off my filthy clothes and showered.

But I liked wearing those dirty overalls. Everything here being forced on me at All Mod Cons got me hard. I wanted to get out. But I wanted to stay to see what would happen to me next. But I am not held prisoner here. It’s just that I’m either drugged up to make me feel wonderful and being played with or resting and being fed. Why would I choose to leave?

I would find out why I might shortly.

Episode 9 – Rubbered up

Right! We’re going to get your skin gear off. 

I was a bit disappointed as I loved the locked on skin gear. 

They used some industrial cutting gear and after half an hour or so I was freed of the gear and naked. 

OK. Just stand still while we lube you up. 

A sticky lube was coated all over my body and head. They brought an orange rubber catsuit and told me to put it on. It was a good 1.5 mm thick and heavy. I managed to get it on, with the attached socks and gloves. It fitted perfectly but it was difficult to move around in because it was so thick. 

Get the hood over and zipped, our new skinrubberboi!

The hood zipped up at the back. There were gauze covers for the eyes so I could see just enough around me, and a zip over the mouth. It was moulded in such a way that my sticky out ears were emphasised – and of course moulded to fit over my head spikes. 

I was now encased in thick orange rubber. 

It will only take a minute or two before that lube glues the suit to your body. Just a crotch zip so you can pee and shit out of it. When we decide you can. 

The feeling was incredible. Movement was really difficult. I felt like a robot. 

I was given high and chunky bright blue mx boots and I clipped them on. They had 10” stack heels and at first were difficult to stand in. But after a few minutes wobbling precariously I managed to gain my balance. 

Pearce then shined me up until I glowed fluorescently. My siliconed balls protruded noticeably giving me an amazing bulge and you could see my PA and its ball clearly defined by the rubber. 

You will stay glued to your suit for six weeks if you are a good rubberskinboi. Much longer if not. 

That didn’t seem a threat as the rubber suit felt fucking wonderful. Little did I know.

Episode 10 – Holes and Goals

Nothing much happened in those six weeks glued into my rubber suit except for my hole being filled by fists and toys. And I was taken out to the street one night and made to sit on a concrete bollard and my whole body and piercings played with for hours. It was exquisite pain and ecstatic sensation.

After exactly six weeks, Steeltwink takes you to a concrete cellar and uses a solvent to take off your orange rubber that you’ve been enjoying so much. He unlocks your boots and hood and finally you are naked for the first time in months. It’s a strange feeling, naked skin, apart from steel head spikes, an eight inch diameter puppy tail and all the other mods you now have.

You are allowed to shower and spend a few hours to yourself, wondering what is going to happen. 

He brings Pierce in, who has his equipment laid out on a tray. Pierec and Steeltwink grab you unexpectedly and clasp steel cuffs and ankle manacles on you and within seconds you are spreadeagled upright in the cellar. 

“We want this to be a pleasant experience”, Pierce says and holds a cloth up to your face and you start to relax and feel as though you can take anything given or done to you.

He shows you a large steel ring, smooth, and the two halves held together by two screws. It’s about 10 mm thick and about 50mm in diameter and 10 deep. Then he sprays something on your balls – “this will numb any pain for you”.

You see him grab a dermal punch – about 10 mm thick – and before you know it it’s between your balls and he punches a hole in the middle of your scrotum. It’s not painful, but it feels incredible. Then he puts one half of the steel ring through it and screws in the other half. When he’s finished he lets go and suddenly you feel your balls being pulled down by half a kilo or more of thick steel. 

“OK – that transcrotal worked well – you look great in that!”

You feel a bit dizzy, but very happy.

Then he lays out 15 ball closure rings – about 3 mm gauge and 15 mm diameter. He starts at the base of your scrotum and starts to pierce and insert a ring all the way up your scrotum till 20 minutes later he puts the last one in half way up the underside of your dick. 

“That’s a ladder to help you get higher”, he smiles.

You’re left there with your balls hanging low and the rings in your balls swinging as you move even just a little. For a few hours.

Finally, they free you from your manacles and are led to your bed, where, Steeltwink starts to lick your balls and tug at your transcrotal ring as you writhe in combined agony and ecstasy and shoot a load up your chest and even up your nose. With exhaustion, you fall asleep.

When you wake up you realise you have been manacled to the four corners of your bed. Pierce comes in and says “oh, today is going to be fun!”

He gives you some water, or at least you thought it was, and once again you start to feel warm and wonderful. 

He lays out on his tray 16 what look like 15 mm long, perhaps 3 mm thick ball closure rings. Before you know it he’s already pierced your left eyebrow in the corner. It doesn’t seem to hurt. With speedy deft of hand within minutes you have 8 rings in your left eyebrow and another 8 in your right. You can see the balls of the rings hanging over your eyes. Then he grabs your lower left eyelid and pushes a needle horizontally through it and puts in a 20 mm long 3 mm thick bar, followed by doing the same in your right eyelid. By now you are so turned on that your dick is straight upright and when he shows you your face in a mirror you spurt all over it. You are being turned into such a freak – something you always fantasised about but never ‘wanted’ or ‘reamed’ to happen But now it has.

“OK – last one today”, he says, and shines a light from inside your mouth so he can see your veins. Then he gets a dermal punch – it looks like about 10 mm – and then pierces both your cheeks and puts long 10 mm bars into each of them. “You might want to stay on soup for a week or two”, he says. 

You can feel the balls and the bars inside your mouth and clanging against your metal teeth. Suddenly you come again. And again.

Freak.

He unties you from the bed, and orders you to put on a full enclosure transparent PVC hooded (with enough room for your head spikes), gloved and socked suit which he zips up and glues the front zip shut. There are zipped holes for your arse, cock and mouth. 

Episode 11 – Bumps

You have to go to work with your filthy overalls over the PVC suit, even with the hood being easily seen. It’s hot and sweaty and you slide around inside it as the sweat builds up.

You get back home, have your dinner, and look forward to relaxing.

“This evening you’re going to stand out much more than ever before!” says someone you’ve not seen before. He has horns on his forehead and what looks like golf balls all around his neck. “I’m Dermal Dan”, he says.

Once again, you realise that your drink has been spiked and you start feeling really horny, but relaxed.

Dermal Dan leads you to a chair and ties your hands to its arms and your legs to its legs. 

He feels your eyebrow rings and rubs them. “Need something else to help show them off”, he says.

“This might take a while, so I’m going to sedate you for a few hours”, and injects something into your arm. You drift off.

When you come to, He looks at you and smiles – “Bumps are beautiful”, he says. He brings a mirror to your face and you now see you have massive 3” long curved bumps, standing out about 10 mm, above each eyebrow. You look like a neanderthal man but know that this is probably not the end of your freak transformation. Not by a long stretch.

You fall back into a trance again, and wake up in your bed. You assume it must be the next morning. When you turn over in bed, you feel your breasts move strangely. You feel them. They fill your hands. You leap up and look in the mirror. You now have enormous boobs like a supermodel. You don’t know what to do. You feel them and waggle them about and then you feel your cock grow. You love being a freak and want to stay here forever, wondering what else they have in store for you – but you can’t think what else there is left to do.

Oh, believe me, there’s a lot more.

At work, the others can see your big breasts under your overalls and start to take the piss and humiliate you. This just turns you on more and you cream your already filthy overalls.

---

Some fantasies by John Stephen Rymell © 2025

I was on a sightseeing break to Ireland with my gay uncle Joe, a randy old guy who had been wanting to fuck me . I was just nineteen and curious about my own sexuality and really up for anything so our first day together in a camper van had been a real eye opener.

As to sight seeing the only sight I had seen was my uncle Joe’s balls as he held my head down to feel my mouth on his cock.

Day two started with my uncle waking me by pushing his stiff seven inches of cock into my sleepy open mouth.

I didn’t know whether I was dreaming it or not but my instinct was to get sucking on it and enjoy the feel of it in my mouth.

“Oh! Dean. You are one hell of a cock sucker lad” he said as he began to fuck my mouth. I put my hands on his hips to control his thrusts as he was trying to get into my throat. He eased back and began to fuck my mouth gently letting my tongue work all over his wonderful prick, the knob of which was a gob stopper.

“Easy up lad, that mouth and tongue of yours will make me fucking pop my load and I want to fuck you”. he said pulling from my saliva dribbling mouth.

I was ready to be fucked anyway, my arsehole twitching with excitement and longing for the feel of  a big stiff cock. With all the slobber around his prick, getting stuck up my arse was easy. I was on my back and he was on top of me feeding his cock into my hole until his cum loaded balls were pressed hard against me.

Already I was moaning as his lustful knob was stroking my prostate ecstatically.

“Fuck me real hard” I said “Make me whimper uncle Joe” and he began to thrust in and out of my arsehole with his randy solid cock.

I clutched his hot arse cheeks and smothered his lips with mine our tongues wrestling together as he shafted me good.

It was a pretty quick fuck as uncle Joe was so excited.

“Fuck! Lad! You got me creaming already” he said ramming his prick home and starting to spurt his spunk into my guts.

“Not yet” I hollered. I was just getting into the thrill of the fuck and wanted it to last but of course once you reach that point of no return a man has no control over his cock.

I lay as still as possible letting the sperm juice my arsehole up till it was squelching with cum.

He looked really disappointed as he withdrew his dripping prick from me but perked up when he saw his spunk seeping from my pulsating arsehole.

Unable to resist the look of my cream pie he was soon sticking his face between my legs and licking his own spunk out of me.

I lay loving the feel of his cum creamy tongue delving into my throbbing hole as I wanked my cock.

Soon he was gnawing on my shaft and gobbling on

my knob, his hand working up and down my prick and turning his fist around it. With an oral work out like that I was soon gushing, my cum spurting into his face with a speed of knots.

Looking at his cum coated face was a treat, his eyes closed, his tongue licking around his lips in search of semen. The man was a cum junkie and fuck hound and this was just day two of our trip.

On the third day we actually did some sight seeing, travelling up the East coast of Ireland but really I knew my uncle just wanted to fuck so we parked in a lay by and he gave me a good fingering followed by a glorious cock suck that had my balls jiggling.

“I’ve been wanting to get my cock up you since breakfast” he said pulling out his randy stiff prick.

The knob was fucking pulsating for my arse and my tight little hole was ready to take it.

With a good helping of lube my uncle eased his cock into me as I lay naked and arse up on the camper van double bed.

“Give me your big cock uncle, ram that fucker up my bum bollock deep”

I knew talking dirty to him turned him on so I kept up the filthy talk.

“Every fucking inch uncle let me feel every fucking inch sliding up my arsehole”.

He began fucking me good and hard, my whimpers obviously audible to any passer by which happened to summon a third person into the camper van.

A middle aged scholarly looking man of about sixty spied on us through the camper van window and my uncle ushered him in.

Pulling his cock out, the stranger offered me his thick un cut cock to suck on which I slurped to the back of my mouth in one swoop.

He held the back of my head and mouth fucked me as my uncle shafted my arse with renewed vigour

“Do you want to fuck my randy nephew mate? He loves getting fucked and needs a lot of cock to satisfy him”.

“I’d love to” said the stranger taking off his clothes, “He sure looks like he enjoys being fucked.”

The man was soon packing my arse with his long thick cock and slapping his balls against me as he fucked.

“Oh! Yes mate, shove that cock into me. Give me that fucking dick”> I squealed.

My uncle spread my arse cheeks with his hands and then bent over to lick around my cock packed arsehole as the man fucked me.

To feel a tongue and cock pleasuring my arse was awesome and with the stranger waning me at the same time I was in absolute bliss.

“You can shoot your spunk into him, he loves getting his arsehole creamed” said my uncle, between licks.

The stranger was groaning and shagging me like it was his last shag, a loud grunt summoning a thick load of sperm from his prick that shot into my hole at some speed.

The man kept fucking until he was drained and my uncle still licking around my cock packed hole tongued into me to get a share of the strangers cum.

Without any goodbyes or thank you’s the stranger dressed and left the camper van and me now laying on my back with my uncle’s face right in my arse and his tongue up my hole.

Holding my wrists above my head my uncle slid his throbbing prick into my cum saturated arsehole and began fucking me.

I gripped hold of him, my lips seeking his for a passionate manly cum kiss as he rammed my arse good and hard.

The heat of my uncle was so sensual, his warm arse cheeks a joy to hold as he poked his cock into me. I slipped a finger up his hot arse and immediately he began to cum

“Fuck! Lad! I’m gonna splatter your guts” he said and his orgasm triggered my own.

My cum was flying everywhere as my uncle filled me with his, our bodies tight together, sweaty and hot and so sensual.

“I love your juicy arse lad, and adore your cock, let me suck the last drops from you” he said and he was down on my dick sucking off my last sperm shots.

Watching his mouth envelop my creamy dick looked so fucking sexy and I didn’t want the holiday to end.

I told him that I had enjoyed the encounter with a stranger and that I’d like to try being double fucked.

“That sounds like a lot of fun lad, bet your little hole could take two big fucking cocks. Bet you’d like two cocks spurting their loads into you?”

“Oh! Yes!” I said “That sounds so good, so what shall we do tomorrow uncle Joe?” I asked naively.

“Fuck of course lad” he said “Double Fuck!”

Andrew Mercer woke up to a peculiar silence. His alarm clock was blissfully mute, and the usual chorus of early morning birds was nowhere to be heard. He squinted at the clock on his nightstand—5:30 AM, the digital display blinked.

He stumbled out of bed, the cold wooden floor sending a jolt through his body and shuffled over to the window. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm glow across the quiet neighbourhood. His eyes scanned the backyard, landing on the clothesline. A sudden pang of anger knotted in his stomach. Six pairs of brand-new Fruit of the Loom tighty whities, which had been flapping in the breeze the night before, were gone.

Andrew marched to the back door, the scent of fresh dew clinging to the air as he stepped outside. His eyes darted around the yard, searching for any clue as to the whereabouts of his underwear. That’s when he noticed the slightly askew post holding up the line. A smudge of mud, not his own, marred the white paint. His heart raced as he realized he had a thief in his midst.

It was then that he decided to set a trap. After purchasing another six pairs of the same underwear, he placed them strategically on the line. With the aid of a hidden camera, he hoped to capture the culprit in the act. The anticipation kept him on edge as he waited, checking the live feed every few minutes.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the lawn, and still, there was no sign of anyone approaching. Just as Andrew was about to call it a night, movement caught his eye. A figure emerged from the tree line behind his house, tall, lanky, and unmistakably human. It was Steven, the young man who lived on the farm at the back of his property. The camera’s feed was grainy, but Andrew could see the criminal walking towards his underwear.

Steven looked around nervously, his eyes darting from side to side. He paused for a moment, hand hovering over the line where Andrew’s favourite pairs hung. Andrew felt his anger rising, but he remained still, watching from the safety of his window. He had to be sure before he made his move.

With a furtive glance over his shoulder, Steven reached up and grabbed the pairs of tighty whities. He stuffed them into a plastic bag he had brought with him, his hands trembling slightly. Andrew Mercer clenched his fists, his breath shallow with rage. This was all the proof he needed as he waited, giving Steven enough time to make his escape before he sprinted outside wearing just a nightshirt and underwear to apprehend the criminal red handed.

“Hey, stop right there!” he bellowed.

Steven’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with fear as he froze in his tracks. “Mr. Mercer?” Steven’s voice was a squeak. “What are you doing up?”

Andrew stormed closer, pointing an accusatory finger. “Don’t you play dumb with me, young man. I know what you’ve been up to. You’ve been stealing my underwear, my tighty whities!”

Steven took a step back, the bag clutched to his chest like a guilty child caught with a cookie jar. “I can explain,” he stuttered, his eyes darting around the yard.

 

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” Andrew spat, his voice laced with disgust. “You’ve been sneaking around here like a common thief, violating my privacy, and now you’re going to answer for it.”

The tension between them thickened, the air crackling with unspoken accusations and embarrassment. A soft breeze picked up, carrying with it the scent of the distant farm.

“Look,” Steven said, his voice shaking, “I know it’s weird, but I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I just… I don’t know, I had this weird obsession with the way they smelled. It’s like… I don’t know, I just needed them.”

Andrew felt a mix of confusion and anger. “That’s no excuse. You can’t just take what doesn’t belong to you!”

“I’ll pay you back,” Steven offered, desperation creeping into his tone. “I’ll buy you more, I promise. Just don’t tell anyone, please.”

Andrew took a deep breath, his fists slowly unclenching. He knew he had to handle this delicately; he didn’t want to ruin the boy’s life over a strange infatuation with his underwear. “You’re going to do more than just pay me back. You’re going to learn a lesson, and you’re going to learn it now.”

“What do you mean Mr. Mercer?” Steven asked.

Andrew studied the young man’s face, seeing a mix of fear and hope. “I can either call the police and have you arrested, or I can deal with this myself. Entirely up to you but you have to make your choice now.”

Steven swallowed hard, his eyes darting from Andrew to the bag and back again. “I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t tell anyone you caught me. It was bad enough the local gossip when I sort of came out but news of this will destroy me completely and I don’t want my mum and dad to know either for the sake of their reputation,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Andrew’s anger wavered. He wasn’t heartless, and the desperation in the young man’s voice was obvious. He took a step closer, his tone softening. “What you’re feeling is natural, but what you’ve done isn’t right. You can’t take things that don’t belong to you, no matter what the reason but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone because I remember the gossip when you told a couple of friends you were gay, and they made your life miserable.” Andrew continued to look at Steven understanding his fear and dread. “We will settle this the old way if you agree.”

Steven nodded eagerly, his eyes pleading. “Anything, Mr. Mercer.”

“Fine, come with me Steven.”

Andrew’s tone was firm as he walked towards, the wooden shed leaving Steven no choice but to follow. Andrew pulled the heavy door open with a creak that seemed to echo the young man’s fear. The musty scent of tools and dust filled the air as they stepped inside. The centre light cast a weak glow, but it was enough to illuminate the centrepiece of the room, a spanking bench. It was a simple construction of wood, with leather straps and a padded cushion.

Steven’s eyes widened in shock. “What is that?”

“That,” Andrew said, his voice low and steady, “is where naughty boys come to learn their lessons.”

He stepped closer to the bench, his nightshirt billowing around his legs. “You see, I’ve dealt with situations like this before. And I’ve found that sometimes, a good old-fashioned spanking is the best way to get the message across.”

Steven’s cheeks flushed as he took in the bench. The leather was worn, showing signs of past use, and the very thought of being bent over it sent a shiver down his spine. He looked up at Andrew, his eyes full of dread.

“But, Mr. Mercer, I’m not a kid anymore,” he protested weakly.

“And you’re not acting like an adult either,” Andrew replied, his expression unyielding. “You’re going to get what you deserve for stealing from me, now give me the plastic bag of my tighty whities.”

Without another word, Andrew took the bag from Steven’s hand and set it aside. He gestured to the bench. “Are you still wanting to keep this incident between us Steven?

“Yes Mr. Mercer,” Steven responded almost overcome with fear and trepidation at the thought of getting a spanking.

“Then, take off your shirt, trousers, sock and shoes and bend over the bench.” Andrew instructed him.

The young man hesitated, his eyes searching Andrew’s for any sign of mercy. Finding none, he started to strip his clothes off as ordered. In a brief time, Steven stood in front of Mr. Mercer wearing only a pair of Fruit of the Loom tighty whities.

“I guess those are mine,” Andrew exclaimed looking at the beautiful young man’s physique, taking note that whilst he appeared to be terrified, his body was suggesting differently with the presents of an erection pushing the cotton fabric of the underwear. “Let’s get on with this shall we before it’s too late in the day? Bent over boy.”

Steven slowly lowered himself over the cold, unforgiving surface, his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel the coolness of the wood against his bare skin, the rough leather biting into his flesh. His face was pushed against the padded cushion.

Andrew took a deep breath, as he secured Steven’s wrist with the leather straps. “You won’t be needing these either,” has he slipped the tighty whities down his legs dumping them on the floor by steven’s feet.

Andrew picked up the paddle, feeling the weight of it in his hand. “Ready?” he asked, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Steven nodded, his breathing shallow and rapid. The first stroke came down hard, the sound of the wood connecting with flesh echoing through the shed like a gunshot. He yelped, the pain sharp and immediate. The second followed quickly, and then the third, each one more painful than the last. He bit down on his lip, determined not to cry out, not to give Mr. Mercer the satisfaction of seeing him break.

By the time he reached ten strokes, tears were rolling down his cheeks, and his bottom was a fiery mass of pain. Andrew also noted that Steven had lost his erection as the pain overwhelmed his senses.

The next ten strokes came in rapid succession, each one harder than the last. The pain grew, a crescendo that threatened to consume him. He gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut and focused on the rhythm. It was all he could do to keep from begging for mercy.

As the twentieth stroke fell, he felt his resolve cracking. His bottom was on fire, and he was sure it would never be the same again. The thought of enduring another ten was unbearable, but he knew he had no choice. He took a deep, shuddering breath and steeled himself for the next onslaught.

The paddle continued its relentless assault, and with each stroke, the pain grew more intense.

By the time Andrew delivered the twenty-fifth stroke, he was panting and sweating, his eyes swollen with freely flowing tears as he started to cry like a child. On the count of twenty-eight, Steven lost control of his bladder and started to wet himself, the gush of warm water running down his legs settling in the tighty whities that lay by his feet as his body moved with each stroke of the paddle.

Crying like a child, Mr. Mercer delivered the thirtieth and final stroke. The sound of the paddle meeting flesh was like a crack of thunder in the quiet night, and Steven let out a hoarse scream, to signify his complete humiliation.

Andrew set the paddle down, his hand shaking slightly from the effort. He stepped back, his chest heaving with the exertion, and surveyed his work. Steven’s bottom was a mottled mess of red and purple, and the young man was trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he started to stop crying.

For a moment, Andrew felt a pang of guilt as he stepped closer and reached out, his hand hovering over the burning skin. He gently touched the tender flesh, feeling the heat radiating from the welts as he began to rub in small, soothing circles the boy’s bottom.

Andrew’s eyes were glued to the reddened flesh, the sight of it strangely mesmerising. He could feel his own arousal growing as he took in the beauty of the boy’s body, bent over and trembling before him. Despite the situation, he couldn’t deny that there was something incredibly alluring about the vulnerable position that Steven was in as he gently scratched his back with both hands.

“Mr. Mercer,” Steven whimpered, his voice muffled by the bench. “It hurts, when can I get up?”

Andrew stepped closer, his hand moving to the small of Steven’s back, his thumbs pressing into the muscles there. “Not yet,” he said, his voice firm. “But I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

With a gentle push, he urged Steven’s hips up slightly, giving him better access to the boy’s crotch. His heart was racing now, not just from the exertion of the spanking, but from the anticipation of what he was about to do.

As his hand touched Steven’s cock, he felt it jump in response, growing hard and rigid beneath his palm. “Do you like me touching you, Steven?” as he gently rubbed Steven’s shaft. He slid his hand down, cupping Steven’s balls gently and giving them a squeeze. The boy gasped, his body jolting slightly against the bench.

“Mr. Mercer, if you want, you can take me. I’ve never been fucked over a spanking bench before.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with lust and desperation. The offer was clear, and Andrew felt his own desire swell. He had never felt so powerful before, so in control of another man’s fate. “Are you sure Steven?”

Steven nodded; his voice muffled by the bench. “Yes, I’m sure,” he managed to say.

Andrew slipped his hands under his nightshirt and pulled his tighty whities down, allowing them to fall as he stepped out of them. Then, reaching behind him, he grabbed a tube of KY Jelly from the shelf and squeezed the liquid on Steven’s hole. Slowly he lifted his nightshirt up and started to insert is cock into Steven’s backside.

As he pushed into Steven’s tight warmth, Andrew felt a strange mix of triumph and relief. The young man’s body was tight around him, his muscles clenching around his shaft. He began to move slowly, savouring every inch as he went deeper. The sounds of their bodies coming together filled the shed, a stark contrast to the silence that had reigned moments before.

Steven’s sobs had turned to moans of pleasure, his body responding to the invasion despite the pain from the spanking. His hips started to rock back and forth, meeting Andrew’s thrusts with an eagerness that was almost alarming.

The sound of skin slapping against wood filled the shed, a rhythm that seemed too crescendo with each of Andrew’s thrusts. The air was thick with the smell of sex and fear, a heady mix that only served to heighten Andrew’s arousal.

As he approached his climax, Andrew’s grip on Steven’s hips tightened. Andrew couldn’t hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, he came deep inside Steven, his orgasm ripping through him like a bolt of lightning. He felt the young man’s body tense around him and then go slack.

They remained there, both panting and trembling, for a few moments before Andrew slowly withdrew. He undid the restraints and helped Steven up, his own legs feeling like jelly, and the two of them stumbled out of the shed into the cool night air.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Andrew thought he saw something like gratitude in Steven’s gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Mercer,” he murmured, his voice still hoarse from crying out.

Andrew handed him his wet and dirty tighty whities that had been on the floor that had acted as a sponge collecting Steven’s urine “Remember, no more stealing,” he said, his tone firm. “This is how we deal with things from now on.”

Steven nodded; his eyes downcast. “Yes, Mr. Mercer,” he whispered as he walked away naked holding his tighty whities but forgetting the rest of his clothing.

As Andrew watched him go, he couldn’t help but wonder what this twisted dynamic meant for their future. He knew that this wasn’t the end of it, that this was just the beginning of something darker and more intense between them.

He went back inside, the taste of power still lingering on his lips, and the scent of fear and desire clinging to his skin like a second skin. He had never felt more alive, and as he cleaned up the shed, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his life had just taken a very strange, very thrilling turn as he wondered when Steven would remember the rest of his clothes.

——— Josh’s POV ———

The keypad beeped as I started entering the door code to my apartment building, opening to the lobby. I walked into the foyer feeling like a child. I was still wearing Ed’s t-shirt that draped over me, trailing about halfway down my thighs. I thought about stopping to get my mail but wanted to get back to my apartment as quickly as possible.

I started jogging up the stairs hoping no one would notice me. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

I turned the corner and saw Mark my neighbour open the door, dressed to go on a run.

“Why did it have to be him.”

I felt my cheeks start to flush. I had hung out with him and his girlfriend a few times and there was one undeniable thing about him. He was fucking hot.

Chiselled cheekbones, jet black hair, green soulful eyes. I had a crush on him ever since I met him. And now, here I was, dressed like someone having a crisis after a breakup.

He saw me, unhooking his earbuds. “Hi Josh – shit, didn’t  take you for a Metallica fan.”

I hadn’t even focussed on the pattern, feeling swamped in this t-shirt about 2 sizes too big. “I’m not, the man who had me wait naked and, before fucking me in the shower lent it to me.” I thought.

I settled for an easier lie. “Yeah, I love them.”

“Oh cool, we’ll have to listen sometime – I’m a big metalhead,” He grinned at me, putting his earbuds back in “Anyway, catch you later.” As he dashed past me down the stairs.

Sighing, I got to my door, opening my apartment and throwing my bag onto the sofa, collapsing beside it. I rubbed my eyes, I was sore and tired from the gym, and still shocked at myself. I couldn’t believe I had just waited for him in that shower, couldn’t believe I had done that, that I wanted to do that, that I wanted to do it again. I had spent my whole life being safe. Good grades, straight into uni, straight to a good boring job.

Risk made me nervous; it made my stomach turn at the thought. I looked around at my clean apartment, everything neatly in its place, everything just right. Everything ordered.

“So why do I like it so much when he takes control?”

I couldn’t deny how attracted I was to Ed. He was old enough to be my dad, maybe even my grandad at a push. But fuck, there was something about him. Something about his confidence. He knew as soon as he saw me that I wanted to serve him. That he could do what he wanted with me and that I’d happily follow along.

He had me pegged the moment he saw me.

I looked down, no matter how tired and sore I was, the thought of him was getting me rock hard, my sweaty boxers straining. I felt like a teenager again every time I imagined him telling me what to do.

There was no point holding off, trying to move on. I knew I was going to touch myself. I knew even when he wasn’t here I’d cum for him.

I reached my hand down into my boxers, feeling the warmth of my dick, the hardness as I took myself in my hand, stroking slowly. I reached my free hand to pull my shorts down, leaving myself bottomless on my sofa, stroking furiously as if I hadn’t already cum twice today.

My hand felt dry on my shaft so I spat on it, letting the wet saliva cover it before resuming my stroking, feeling the wetness up and down my shaft. I thought about heading my room, grabbing my dildo, but I knew it would be disappointing, knew it wouldn’t be as good as Ed, that it would leave me just wanting more. I couldn’t replicate the force he had shown when he bent me over the massage table, or how he had controlled me when we were in the shower. That’s what I wanted more than anything. To make him happy.

I felt my stomach start to tense at the realisation.

“I’ll be here the same time next week; I want those back stiff as a board. Every time you jerk off thinking of me, you cum on them, right.’

It was the last thing he said to me before leaving. I couldn’t disappoint him.

I pulled off the t-shirt and wrapped it around my dick, stroking myself quickly, furiously, desperately. My stomach tightened as I came into the shirt, my body trying to force another load from my twice emptied balls.

I opened the t-shirt to see my meagre load on the front. It wasn’t nearly enough for him. I’d have to spend the week working on it.

---

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My heart is pounding, threatening to break its bony cage when I open his front door. The house is deceivingly quiet as I toe off my work boots. Trying to be as quiet as a mouse so Sir can catch a few extra winks, I unfasten my belt and the button holding my jeans closed and lower the zipper. Sliding them over my hips, my quickly hardening cock springs out in the cool air.

I steal a quick glance out the window in his front door. If there was anyone walking in the street, they could see the shameful undressing ritual that I perform alone, in Sir’s foyer with each visit. The thought both excites me and fills me with apprehension. And both of those add to this experience.

I unconsciously shiver under the cool air with my pants and boxer briefs lying at my feet. My feet slide haphazardly out of each leg of the denim. Unbuttoning the top fastener, I quickly slide both shirts over my head in one quiet and efficient motion before I bend over, naked ass poked up in the air to finger off each sock.

On the table in front of me, beside the hat I just placed there rests my next goal. A thick black leather collar teases me for a slim second before I wrap it around my neck and fasten the silver buckle. The slick leather is cold against my skin, in contrast to the heat climbing my pink cheeks.

Reminding myself of Sir’s newly set protocol, I lower myself down on my hands and knees and crawl across the dining room as quietly as I can. My eyes downcast, I watch my hands slap quieter than my knees and the tops of my feet until I cross the threshold of his carpeted bedroom with my painfully hard dick swaying beneath me.

“Mmm, good morning, boy.”

The sound of his voice is pleasant and not a complete surprise. As stealthy as I can be, there are not many mornings that Sir is not lying awake and hard awaiting his plaything. This doesn’t disappoint me by any means, however, I take it as a personal challenge to get to the side of Sir’s bed, kneel back on my heels, and silently await his awakening. It didn’t work out today.

“G’mornin Sir.”

“No need to kneel today.” He shifts around, kicking his duvet to the side, and reveals his impressively hard cock, my treat. “Come get your breakfast.”

It’s the first time we make eye contact this morning and he’s smiling devilishly at me. I guess he enjoys seeing me; a forty-something-year-old, bearded and tattooed masculine man on my hands and knees in submission to him. That works for me, I’ll get an hour or so where I can let go of everything and just be his plaything.

When I reach his bedside, I crawl up and start to position myself between his spread legs when he stops me. “On second thought,” his teasing voice whispers into the room, “I want to see your pretty dick.”

I sit back on my haunches and bashfully reveal my nakedness to him. His eyes travel from mine to my pierced eyebrow to my fur-lined face. I can almost feel his desire as they rake down to the angry tattooed tiger on my left peck, down my slightly rounded belly until they stop on my seven inches of needy cock standing straight up and pointing to his ceiling.

I am motionless as he takes me in, all of me. I couldn’t feel sexier than in these moments when he sees me in such a vulnerable state, my dad bod in all its McDonald’s glory just before he takes me. Sometimes I’m unsure of what he sees in it, but he likes it and holy fuck does he use it in such pleasurable ways.

Today he instructs me to start the morning by grabbing my dick and stroking it for him. Like the good little slut I try to be for him, I do as he commands and slowly move my hand up and down my shaft pushing a little pearl of precum out of the slit. A moan softly leaves my parted lips as I perform for him.

He watches intensely on me as I masturbate for him. It’s such a turn-on for me to feel so scrutinized as I watch him watch me. My body is tingling under his gaze. I could almost cum just from this but he hasn’t given me permission for that yet. And unfortunately, he may not permit me an orgasm at all this time. He’s let me cum the last couple of times I’ve visited.

“Sir,” the silence is broken by my breathy voice, “may I put your cock in my mouth?”

His dark eyes find mine and he holds them there for a long few seconds. He nods his permission as he says “But no sucking. Just warm it up for me.”

I nestle in, between his strong legs and bliss washes over me when the smooth skin of his dick slides across my freshly moistened lips and rests on my tongue. The temptation to suck, to move, and feel him going deeper into my throat is so strong that I have to remind myself that I’m here to serve him, not my own desires. Sir will see to it that I leave satisfied. Even if I’m not allowed release today.

Sir’s hands rest on either side of my head and grip my ears. My hair is too short for his fingers to thread into. I catch myself fucking into his mattress, the motion is involuntary to my arousal, and force myself to still. I can’t cum.

Holding my head still, he lifts his hips slowly pushing his cock in before dragging it back out and I whimper into his shaft. He repeats the motion, picking up his pace and going deeper with each cycle. Before long, he’s ravishing my throat, my stomach clenches to fight off the gagging.

When he lets go of my ears it’s my sign to take over. My lips slide slickly over his smooth hard dick; slow and methodical leaving glistening dampness that I use as lubrication for my perfectly synchronized hand stroking and twisting at his base. The sounds he makes because of me inspire me on.

“Dammit boy, are you trying to get out of here early,” he asks broken only by his moaning.

My mouth is full of his cock, knowing my words will only be guttural sounds, I look up through my eyelashes and hum into his flesh while shaking my head slowly. It’s thrilling and encouraging me on when his half-lidded eyes close the rest of the way and his head tilts back. I’m serving Sir well.

When he lands from whatever euphoric clouds he floated to, he pulls my mouth off of his dick by my ears and pushes me off and to the side. I’m lamenting the sudden emptiness of my mouth when he stands up and points to the edge of his bed. “Come here, boy.”

Assuming the position I’m hoping for, Sir stops me. “Not like that. Turn around.” His strong hands guide my body to where he wants me and then pull me forward so my head hangs over the edge. My stiff cock flexes and feigns for attention when he smacks his cock against my cheek.

His low-hanging balls lightly brush against my brow on their journey up the bridge of my nose. He’s above me, an artist brushing my own saliva across his canvas, my face with the mass of his dick.  His musky essence is heady as I breathe him in.

The head of his cock pushes against my lips and I instinctively open for him, a silent plea to fill me again. He’s a tease though, he dips his crown in slowly and withdraws it, rubbing the velvety mushroom over my lips and across my chin. Fuck, I wish he’d just run it down my throat!

“Please, Sir?” I whimper. All I want right now is for him to, “Please use my throat?”

I know he likes it when I beg, when I’m so needy that all of my inhibitions fall and I whine for him. He calls it my surrender. Sometimes I use that knowledge to my advantage and overplay my hand. Today though, I need him to use me!

“The dirty cock sucker wants my cock huh?” He asks menacingly, to which I whimper in agreement. “This cock?” He asks while he pops my already puffy lips with its weight.

“Yes Sir, please?” My words are merely a whisper emphasizing my deprivation.

My guttural moan reverberates in my chest when he pushes in until the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. It’s sheer bliss; his swaying balls sliding across my face, his thick hard dick invading my mouth, his hands around my throat feeling himself bulging through the skin of my neck.

I’m struggling not to gag at this depth, my stomach muscles tense in a feckless attempt to fight the cough. When it comes, the exhale pushes spit around his shaft, through my mouth as well as liquid pushing out of my nostrils.

This seems to invigorate him because, after a few shallow breath-catching strokes, he’s back in deep. This time he holds it and smiles as my face grows more and more red. I feel like tapping out but want to push it for him, as long as I can. It could have been ten seconds or ten minutes based solely on the desperation I felt for air, but Sir pulled out before I freaked out and had to signal my need.

“Good boy.” He croons at me.

I love it when he praises me. Fishing for it is probably the driving factor behind pushing myself to new limits for him. That and the trust we’ve built together. However, I’m pulled out of my reverie when he smacks my leg as a gesture that it’s time for a position change.

He manhandles me and I love it. The strength he uses to spin me around and roll me over is aggressive and intoxicating to me. When he’s done I’ve been spun around a hundred and eighty degrees and pulled so my ass has replaced my face against his pelvis.

This is where it gets good for him. My legs are in the air and spread wide for him. My hole is needy, exposed, and vulnerable for his pleasure. Please don’t misunderstand, this is where it gets good for me too! Not that it hasn’t been good the entire session.

I flinch and hiss when I suck air in through clenched teeth as the cold lubricant drips onto my ball sack and runs down my taint. The contrasting warmth of his fingers against my skin brings comfort to me that is quickly stolen when “Oh fuck!” his thick finger breaches my ring.

I can’t tell by looking at him, what he’s thinking. His face is stony and intentional while his finger, and now fingers fuck into me. More, my mind silently cries out. I need more, thicker and deeper. But he’s being methodical, assuring that I’m properly stretched to receive him as comfortably and painlessly as possible. Yet another thing I appreciate about him; is his care for detail and bringing me the most pleasure.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you?” He asks like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“Yes Sir.”

“You’ve behaved well, but this is for me. Do you understand?”

That’s new. I mean, I know our dynamic and the roles we play within it. I’m his ‘fuck boi’, a tool and a toy for his use. Even though I know this and he often mind fucks me via text with similar lines, he’s never made this type of proclamation as he’s about to enter me.

“Yes Sir.” I moan. “As it should be.”

The next thing I know, he’s buried to the hilt inside of me, groaning like an animal. I grunt when he slams his body against mine. Before I know it, he’s withdrawn and slamming back into me. “Holy fuck!” The words come out involuntarily against the assault.

“Remember your safe words and use them if you need to. Understand?” He smashes against me again causing unusual inflections in his voice.

Our safe words are the stereotypical traffic light colors. I’m sure you know them and their meanings, but I’m kind of a masochist while Sir is one of those gentle Daddy Doms. I’ve never had to use them or our predetermined hand signals to slow or stop him, although I trust that he will respect them if he ever pushes me to those points.

“Mph… yes, ohhh… Sir.”

He pistons into me and back out and I’m suddenly thankful for the time he took to relax my sphincter. However, at the bottom of each stroke, he’s hitting something, bottoming out inside me and fucking very pitiful sounds out of me. His unusual aggression melts my subby heart into a puddle of goo.

He fucks me hard for countless minutes until both of our bodies are beaded with sweat and breathless. His endurance is impressive for being nearly a decade older than me. He’s slowed some, but aside from fucking into me at different angles, he keeps a pretty steady pace.

Each time he comes in low and pushes up, he brushes across my prostate and forces filthy sounds from me. Left to right and visa versa to ensure maximum soreness for later but he’s intent on beating up that little lump inside me until the pressure and the intensity pushes me over the edge and I cry out.

My cock throbs and spits ribbons of cum across my belly, but more importantly to Sir, my ass is contracting and releasing in synchronicity to each stream of cum  that spills out and down my shaft.

He likes it, obviously because he is howling between pants. When my body has spilled all it has and relaxes into him, he finds a new pace. Slow. “Thank you, boy.” He breathes out.

He calls it a gift when I cum for him. So often, he’s a really sweet dominant, albeit there are times when he has a bit of a mean streak. His paddle, or a belt reddens my ass really well. However, when he gives me prostate O’s like this one, it’s a real ego boost for him and he’ll reward me with extra attentive aftercare.

This is where I completely surrender though. Post-nut euphoria sets in and I am now the one floating here, and he is taking slow deep strokes in and out of my wrecked hole. Like when I worship his cock with soft slow movements, his release is strong and voluminous when he lets go like this.

He’s pulling all the way out of me, leaving me empty and wanting before diving back in. In his tall bed, my ass is in the perfect trajectory for his hands-free entrance back through my ring. I’m nearly silently blissful now, his inanimate toy. Only soft whimpers float out of me when he leaves me empty.

He tells me, or maybe just the space around us how loose my channel is and how swollen my man cunt is. I can faintly hear him, but I’m still lost to my own endorphins. We both like it when he fucks me into just a shell, already found my release and I’m just there for his use. He tells me I’m a unique bottom because I don’t make him stop after I cum. The thought has never even crossed my mind.

The gentle way he fucks me keeps me lulled in my complacent state. I must be in a pretty receptive, almost trans-like state because words and phrases drift into my ears; “good boy”, “fucking you feels like fucking the clouds”, “I’m so honored that you offer yourself to me”. A feeling of pride swells next to the contentment I’m experiencing.

Then suddenly I feel it. Like some distant bass drum pulsing inside my sore and burning ass, he stops moving and lets go. The warmth of his seed washes through me as he fills me full of his cum partnered with gravely sighs and tranquil moans.

My hips feel like they’re going to break from my pelvis when he pulls out, slowly lowers my legs and swivels me fully into his bed. I couldn’t care less if he dropped me right now and body parts fell off. My entire inner world is at peace when I feel his duvet sliding up my naked body. And he’s gone.

It’s only a minute or two before he’s back at my side, urging me to lift my head to drink from the glass of orange juice he’s holding by my mouth. After a couple of swallows of the citrusy drink, he lowers my head to his pillow and ruffles my short brown hair. Before I know it, sleep is taking me under.

It’s a Friday and today happens to be casual Friday, this happens once a month. When it does I make sure to wear not my tightest jeans but close to it! and no underwear because I like the way my shaved cock and balls feel against the material.

It’s only been a couple of hours into the work day and I’m bored beyond belief, the only thing that makes it better is the view I have of Tommy the office hunk. He’s around 35, black hair, blue eyes that want to make you melt, well built and if I had to guess 175 pounds and hopefully a huge cock to make you want it deep in your hole.

Tommy must be a runner because today like most of us he’s wearing jeans and let me tell you the way he fill those jeans makes your mouth water. Today also happens to be another co-workers birthday and of course everyone goes out for a long lunch to celebrate. I’m staying back just because I don’t feel like going but in good nature I wish her the best of birthdays.

It’s still another 2 hours before lunch and again I get a look at Tommy as he’s bending over to retrieve a piece of paper that’s fallen to the floor. Lost in my day dream as I’m watching him my mind wanders off into a lustful happy place. I’m on my knees sucking his cock like it’s the last cock on earth and I’m cum deprived. Just as he’s about to fill my mouth with his sweet cum I snap out of my dream to him standing next to my cubicle asking me about lunch. 

Good thing I was sitting down because I had the biggest boner that I have had in weeks, there would have been no way of hiding that from him or anyone. 

Well for lunch I stammered, I’m staying back when everyone else is going out. I’m just not in the mood for a lot of noise, people and the overall place of extreme fake happiness. Oh that’s too bad he said I thought we could sit together and chat about some ideas I have for a couple of tasks here at work. Well maybe next time or something like that I said, ok Tommy said as he turned around and headed back to his desk, man what an ass I thought as he walked back. I could have sworn he walked a little slower than usual and made his but jiggle just a little more, I could feel my boner making a comeback as I watched.

Finally lunch had arrived and there goes the majority of my coworkers including Tommy. I get my lunch and head to the break room, I’m the only one in there and it’s totally fine with me. About fifteen minutes into the two hour lunch break and in walks Tommy.  Hey I thought you went out to help celebrate the birthday? Na I changed my mind he said as he smiled at me, I really need to run my ideas by you, go ahead I said back with a smile.

Well I was wondering what positions you like best? Well I thought for just a moment and started to say general manager would be nice. He looked at me and laughed no, that’s not what I meant! Well, what did you mean then?  He said again, what positions do you like the best? as he unzipped his jeans and his rock hard cock popped out. I almost choked on my tongue, good thing I didn’t have any food in my mouth or I probably would have choked for sure.

Oh those positions I said back quickly and a little higher pitched voice than usual. Well I’d like to show you I said as my cock swelled in my pants but we’re at work and I know of nowhere to demonstrate to you.

I do, Tommy said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single key.

Where’s that go to? Tommy said follow me and I’ll show you. I quickly put my lunch back in my locker and followed him to the third floor which was abandoned at the moment. 

Tommy led me to a corner office with no windows except to the outside. He unlocked it and in we went. There was a desk, chair and in the far corner a mattress. How did that get in here I asked? I brought it in on my weekend when the office was empty, I come up here at least once or twice a week and Jack off multiple times a day.

Now that we’re here, why don’t you show me your stuff he said. Sure thing as I started to take off my clothes, as I began I could feel my cock harden to peek stiffness. When I finally got to my pants and took them down my cock slapped against my waist with a snap.

I went to Tommy who was at that point sitting on the desk watching me undress. I leaned in for his lips and he met me half way. As we locked lips in a lustful kiss my hand went down and found his hard cock and started to stroke him. 

He moaned as we kissed for a least two minutes and as we did I could feel his cock start to jump getting ready to go off like a cannon. 

He pulled his lips away, oh God yes as he blew his load over my fingers and hand. I finished him with my mouth covering his head making sure what was left in him went down my throat.  I didn’t let up as he started to go slightly limp and soon was rock hard again. 

I released his cock from my mouth, turned around and lubed my hole with the cum that was still on my fingers. Fuck my hole I said as I bent over the chair, gladly he responded. He lined up behind me and plunged me deep, in no time he was balls deep.

I let out a quick gasp in pain that subsided as quickly as it happened.

God what a stud I was thinking as he’s fucking me hard. I moan in pure pleasure as he’s breathing quickly and I could feel my own cock wanting to explode in an orgasmic bliss.

I leaded back so I could feel his chest on my back giving him better access to my cock. He nibbled on my ear as his one free hand stroked my cock. With every thrust, plus his hand pumping me it was only thirty more seconds.  I had the most intense orgasm I’ve had in a long time and as I cummed my pussy clammed down hard on his cock, he moaned loudly. It seemed like I cumed gallons as I blew my jizz all over the chair. When I finished I pulled Tommy’s cock out of my ass. I needed to taste my juices, God damn yummy as I slurped him for a minute but I wanted more.

I got up and led him over to the mattress, lay down on your back please. He did as I wanted and that beautiful cock stood up like a flagpole.  We sixty nined for a little as we both moaned like animals. I again let go of my mouth clamped on his cock, turned around and lowered my hole down on him until I was sitting completely on his legs.

God what a feeling, having his cock so deep in me that it feels like his hitting my stomach from the inside.

I quickly picked up my pace as I could feel him getting closer once again to exploding and I didn’t want him to finish before me. As I bounced up and down like a ball his hands grabbed my waist urging me to go faster.

I responded both in my pace and jacking of my cock as we both cummed at the same time. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside me once again gave me another intense orgasm as I blew my load all the way up to his face. I collapsed onto him with his cock still in me, I loved the feeling of my body pressed against his plus the feeling of cum that was sticking us together. We kissed passionately and as we did I scooped up some cum to share with him he licked my fingers clean and shared back with me.

I’ve always liked the taste of my own cum but with it being shared with a hunk of a man made it even better. 

Holy shit Tommy said we only have 5 more minutes before people start showing back up from lunch. Damn I was hoping for an encore I said, well next time then as I peeled myself off of him. I quickly got dressed and made it back to my desk with about a minute to spare and as everyone stared walking in, I could feel his cum leaking out my hole making my jeans wet.

Again this made me hard and I couldn’t help but go to the bathroom quickly to get all that I could on my fingers to lick them clean. 

Tommy came back while I was in the bathroom cleaning myself and as I got to my desk he just gave me a smile as if nothing had happened. I’m hoping for another fuck session with him as soon as possible. Maybe I’ll do him if he wants to but if not then I’ll be more than happy to be his bitch as long as he keeps filling me with that hard cock and sweet sticky cum.