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Stepping off the bus at Port Authority at one in the morning, the scared young runaway never felt so alone in his young life. It was the first time away from home. The city garishly lit up looked so different than the green quiet suburbs left behind. Needing a place to crash, nervously he calls Marc's friend Big John but there is no answer. Within minutes the gritty reality of city life envelopes. Walking down 42nd Street, the dealers and the whores approach but he has neither the interest nor the money to buy anything they are selling. Feeling so afraid and unsure, golly would he love to take the next bus back home but he can't. Gosh, what a nightmare. He did not look like the type of kid you would expect to see walking the city's streets. Pretty, almost too pretty, with brownish hair parted in the center, and small at 5 feet tall and only a hundred pounds. Finding an Sbarro's Italian restaurant, Curt orders a slice and a Mountain Dew. Paying for the food, his wallet is left absent mindly left on the tray. Needing privacy he heads toward the back. After finding a suitable table he sits and munches on the slice. Curt feels the piercing stare from an old creepy geezer sitting just a couple tables away. Suddenly Curt realizes the guy is playing with himself. Grossed out Curt grabs his bags and moves to another section, foolishly leaving his wallet behind. By the time he realizes it is too late, two Spanish kids snatch the wallet and run out into the night. He is pissed off. Inside his wallet was Big John's phone number. Now he will never be able to contact him. With no money and no place to sleep the fuming boy, grabs his bag and walks into the night leaving the slice behind. With each step up and down Broadway, 7th and 8th Avenue, 42nd and 43rd Streets, the boy puts even more miles between him and that comfortable home he left behind. Young, the boy must fend for himself. His roots are burned completely behind him. More whores and dealers approach him. Occasionally a pimp tries to entice him. And dirty old men keep trying to talk to him. It angers him that everybody is approaching him while he wants to be left alone. Tired he needs a place to shower and sleep, a place to think over his next move. Outside a dive bar, an older smiling Pakistani male says hello. Curt worn out from walking, figures that maybe this man can help him. They talk for a few minutes. The man asks, "Why are out alone on the streets. It is very dangerous for a very pretty boy like you." Curt admits, "I am a runaway, my stepfather was abusing me so I came up to NYC to find a friend of a friend. Hey man, can you help me out a little. I haven't had anything to eat all day except part of a slice of pizza." "I am so sorry I am flat broke but I have a friend who pays good money for good-looking models like you." Knowing already the answer Curt still asks, "What kind of modeling?" "Nude of course, but there will be no kinky stuff. All you have to do is masturbate as you are photographed." Curt reluctantly agrees, even though he already posed nude for Marc he hates the idea of being photographed naked. With no other options he agrees and walks several blocks with the man to a spice store. Once inside they walk to a back room where two other Pakistanis greet him. After some swift negotiating they strike an agreement. Curt will get sixty dollars for letting them take pictures of him masturbating. The three men take Curt to a dreary wood panel room, telling him to strip. As he does, the cameras start photographing. He is then told to lie on his back on a long wooden table and start jerking off. As he starts stroking, he hears the sound of the men dropping their pants. Alarmed he tells the guys that he hadn't agreed to have any sex with them. They assure him that they don't plan to but they were going to masturbate as they watch and photograph. Relieved, Curt as he strokes his dick, closes his eyes and thinks of loving Marc. In a few minutes he shoots a decent load on his tummy. As he finishes cumming, someone shoots their load over his mouth, nose and eyes. Jolted Curt tries to sit up, but the men hold him down and make him watch as they masturbate. Finally the second man's cock pops a load all over Curt's chest. Rubbing the cum into the boy's body the third man also shoots his load on Curt's face. Still they won't let him up until the first man gets off a second shot With their cameras flashing, the man again shoots, this time landing on Curt's legs and feet. Finally let go, one of them hands Curt a wet towel to wipe their spooge off. After rubbing as hard as he can to get the vile crap off, Curt dresses. Ready to go, he asks for his pay. One of them hand him a ten-dollar bill and orders him out. Curt angrily demands the remaining fifty. the first guy pulls out a gun and says, "Go now." Feeling he was used and betrayed he quietly leaves, holding back his frustration. Now back on the street he walks for a while, finally stopping at a subway shop for a desperately needed meal. With no other apparent options, nervously the boy ventures down an alleyway looking for a suitable cardboard box for catching a few Zs. After selecting one, he huddles inside a cardboard box for some well-deserved sleep using his bag as a pillow. About an hour later a commotion awakens him. Peering out of the box, he sees a well-dressed businessman surrounded by a gang of Puerto Rican thugs. The man is drunk and refuses to turn over his wallet. Angrily he pushes one of the thugs asides and tries to escape. Curt screams as the knife stabs the man. As the man falls mortally wounded, the thugs realize Curt is a witness and run towards him. Seeing the danger, he quickly runs out of the alley. Luckily the boy's scream brings an inquisitive squad car down the alley. The thugs take off in the other direction. As the screaming flashing lights pour into the alley, Curt quickly blends into the night. He decides not to go back for his bag, knowing if he did the cops will question him and then place him in a detention center. Fearing that the thugs are probably still looking for him, he decides to accept whatever is the next opportunity. He can't be caught by the cops and certainly not by the thugs. By now his wandering brings him to the water fountains in front of Rockefeller Center. The boy sits down on the cool marble wall; while an occasional wind drifted mist of water gently plays with him. Finally the horror of it overtakes him. He begins to cry. Why did his stepfather have to catch him making out with Marc? Why did they have to steal his wallet? Why did he have to leave his bag and why did he have to witness a murder? How is he ever going to hide from those thugs? He barely feels the presence of another person sitting nest to him. Finally a gentle voice says, "Hi, you will be all right. Things will work out. Please stop crying." Through his teary eyes, he looks and sees a handsome blonde haired boy no more than a few years older. Curt says, "Man, you don't know half the shit I am in. I am really fucked." The blonde introduces himself "I am Jon, I ran away too. It seems real scary at first and everybody rips you off but eventually you get on top. So why did you leave at home. You don't look like a druggie." "Hi, I am Curt. No, I am not a druggie. I never did anything more than a little weed. I just got in a fight with my step dad and he was going to send me a military school. I bolted instead." "That happened to me too. My step-dad found out I was queer and I fled into the night. Now I am a rent boy, serving fat ugly Johns who luckily pay me lots of money for the chance to suck or fuck me. So are you gay too? Curt admits he is queer. For the next hour the two boys talk about everything. Curt reveals his life in depth even talking about Marc. Finally Jon asks Curt if he wants to crash at a safe place. He promises no sex, just sleep. A weary Curt readily agrees. Lost in the big Apple, Curt has no idea where they are headed. But when they walk down cobbled streets and deserted piers and warehouses, he feels uncomfortable. At a small building, almost crunched in between two larger ones, they pause at a faded blue door. A series of sequenced knocks opens the door. Greeting them is Luther, an aged hippie biker, in leather chaps and smoking a cigar. He signals for Curt to come on in. As the biker bolts the door behind, Curt realizes Jon never entered. Knowing he was just betrayed, Curt tries to push his way out but the beefy biker grabs him in a bear hug, carrying the screaming boy down a flight of steps then throws him into a room. "Hey kid, calm down, nobody ain't gonna hurt you - yet. Trust me." He laughs. The biker slams the black steel door locking Curt in. Looking around, poor Curt is horrified. The windowless basement room is filthy. The floor's black and white tiles are littered with old newspapers, McDonald cups and boxes. The only furniture is a steel framed bed, with a yellowed mattress. Off to the side is a cubbyhole of a bathroom, the stench of old piss and vomit is over powering. Only the toilet works. Then the light is turned off, with the room black Curt sobs himself to sleep. Countless hours later he is woken by a group of three men. Two are muscular white guys in their late twenties, one is bald, and the other wears his blonde hair real short. The third is a black male in his late thirties looks a weight lifter. The guys are dressed real kinky in leathers pants and chest harnesses. Their outfits are adorned with chains. "Hey kid, come with us." The bald guy demands. Curt, barely awake screams, "Fuck no. Now let me out of here." His insolence earns him three powerful slaps right across the face by the bald guy. The black guy yanks him up by the arm and leads him out of the room. The two other guys walk behind as if they were guards. Up two flights of steps, as they pause outside a thick white wooden door, Curt is just moments from Hell. The black guy shouts "Are you guys ready for us?" "In about two minutes, we will let you know when it is all set up. You might as well put your masks on." Curt can't make sense out of what is about to happen. He can't understand why they are wearing masks. Panicking, he fears he is about to be murdered. Sobbing he begs the guys to let him go, to let him live. They say nothing because they want the boy scared as all can be. Terror sells. Frightened Curt promises me to do anything they want if only they let him escape. Instead the door is suddenly opened and they are bathed in an intense stream of light from several photographers' lamps. Curt looks into the room. It appears to be some sort of theater designed for a ritual or sacrifice. In the center of the room is a wooden platform topped with a blue foam gym mat. A series of rings are bolted to the two sides. Lying on the floor to one side of the platform is ropes, whips, various dildoes and leather stuff unfamiliar to Curt. On the other side of the platform he sees a nude boy and girl, gagged and bound at their hands and feet. Dried blood appears caked around their genitals. Their bodies are littered with harsh red marks as if they had been whipped. Both kids are crying. The back of the room is sloped towards the platform. It is set up much like a movie theater, complete with cushioned seats. Sitting in these seats is a cheering group of hundred or so older guys wearing tuxedos. Bolted on the ceilings he spots three remote control cameras, the cameraman is sitting at the monitors off to the side. As the guys push him in, he fights back, swinging arms and flailing legs. But the strength of the men is too much and the struggling boy is quickly pushed to the center of the room. For the next ten minutes the guys delight in a game of catch the boy, tossing him from one man to the next. And in the process each winner gets to pull a garment off. Horrified and hurting, Curt is embarrassed being striped in front of an audience. He tries to cover his genitals from the cameras' lecherous eyes. Then the guys drag him onto the platform, throwing him on his belly. The muscular black sits on the boy's back, while the others tie him to the rings. They grab Curt's left foot, then the right foot and tie them down. Curt flails his arms so wildly and they aren't able to catch them. Pissed the black guys punches Curt in the small of his back. For minutes the pain is so intense, Curt can't move or say anything. The cameras tape Curt's torment and shrieks. With the boy quieting down, the men strip off some of their leather gear and grab some whips. Absorbed in his pain and humiliation Curt does not notice that the men are now standing behind him. Suddenly he hears the whoosh sound as the whip cruelly lands on his ass. Then again and again it strikes. Some strike his legs, arms and back. The crowd goes electric. Curt struggles and screams from the intense agony. Eventually they let the crying boy calm down. Then the black biker strips off his remaining gear, exposing his rock hard cock, far larger than anything Curt has ever seen in the showers at school. Ordering the boy to suck and not bite, he forces his cock in Curt's mouth. Fearing more whippings, Curt tries his hardest to accommodate but the dick is too large. Frustrated the black guy pulls his dick out and masturbates onto the boy's face, shooting juices over the kid's eyes, hair, and lips. The crowd cheers. Next, the blonde biker shoves his dick in Curt's mouth. It is smaller and a frightened Curt sucks it like a newborn with a tit. Quickly the biker screams "I am cumming" and then a load of cum fills his throat. As Curt tries to spit the juices out of his mouth, the crowd laughs. The third biker, from the rear spreads the boy's cheeks his cheeks and fingers his nether region, Curt realizes he is about to be fucked like a whore bitch. With each finger going in and out of his tight butt, Curt begs him to stop. The man laughs and continues to jab. He announces to the crowd that the boy is too tight and he must use a tiny dab of Vaseline. They groan. Curt braces himself for what he knows is going to be hellish. He ignores the man's suggestion to relax. Instead he angrily clenches his cheeks together as the man lies on top of him. He feels the guy's cockhead trying to enter his hole but he resists with all his might. Without warning, with lit cigars the two other guys burn the soles of his feet. That moment's distraction is enough so Curt involuntarily loosens up and the biker's cockhead is just able to slip in a little bit. Time and time again the men singe his soles, making Curt loosen up allowing the intruding cockhead to slowly slide into his rectum. Curt is shaken from the pain and humiliation. His ass is on fire. It feels like it is about to burst. Vainly the boy tries to escape but he is too tightly bounded to the rings. Finally the man announces he is all the way in. The crowd wonders was the boy a virgin. Proudly the man withdraws his cock, claiming the blood covering it is proof. Thinking the guy is done, Curt is relieved to have the cock out. But the man lies on top of him again. And ignores the terrified boy's resistance as he again enters the tight rectum. As the man pushes all the way in, the boy fears he is going to be crushed. With his dick firmly impaled deep inside the boy, the man's tongue ravishes the innocent boy's face, neck and armpits. For at least twenty minutes the man roughly fucks the boy to an almost climax then he pauses and begins to roughly fuck him again. His fingers explore the crying boy everywhere. Through this degradation Curt realizes tonight to this crowd he is nothing anymore but a fuckhole, nothing more than a cum rag. The crowd is going wild. This fuck spectacle is fantastic. To them, Curt's humiliation was so excitedly beautiful. The look on his face, moaning and tears pouring as the man rode him was well worth the fee. Somebody started passing around jars. Many of the men excited by this spectacle fill it a bit with their precious male juices. Finally the fuck sensations overtake and the man shoots a giant load all the way up Curt's butt. As he screamed out, the crowd went nuts. Curt is terrified from the feeling of the throbbing prick filling his ass. Finally the man withdraws from the cum drenched hole. Hoping that his agony is over Curt wants to be released from his bounds. Instead the black man lies on top of him and starts to fuck him. Curt's hole resists even blocks harder for this man's battering ram. It takes another series of cigar singes to get Curt to loosen up. Finally in, the man cries out "I am all the way in! Oh baby this bitch feels so good." Then the man humps the boy for fifteen minutes. By now Curt is reduced to tears as the man aggressively humps the boy. Finally the man climaxes a wild load. Curt again feels the spooge soaking all over his insides. To the cheering crowd the man invites the audience to inspect the boy's battered hole. After the crowd examines him, the blonde biker lies next to the boy. Lovingly the man explores the boy's body, his tongue gently bathing the boy. His fingers snake under the boy and massage his dick. A few strokes and Curt can't control himself. He screams as his cock flushes clean the boy semen from inside his balls. The man whispers in his ears, "You are so beautiful, I fucking love torturing you." Next the man's dives his face and tongue into the boy's. Kissing like French lovers, strangely the boy starts to enjoy this man. As they kiss, the man snakes his arms to the boy's ass and dick. With one hand, slowly his fingers play with the boy's ravaged hole. With the other hand he brings the kid's cock to life again. With another few stroke the boy cums again. Then the man slowly mounts Curt. Gently he enters and slowly his cock slips down. With a gentle steady pace, the man rides the boy. Curt shudders as this man screws him. With a scream the man shoots his load deep within. For a few more minutes he embraces and tongues the boy. Satisfied that he has broken the boy's spirit he slides off to the cheering crowd. Relieved, the boy is untied. So broken is he, when handed the jarful of cum, he opens his mouth wide as the MC pours in a mouthful and swallows it as told. Curt now lives to be shamed. The blonde biker whispers, "You did well, you did exactly as they want, you won't be whipped anymore tonight I promise you. In an hour or so you can return to your room. They just want to look at you and play at little more. Just keep calm, the worse is over." Startled, Curt asks, "Will they murder me, please I don't want to die." "No, you are safe, I will protect you." Curt is ordered to lie on his back, and then the other tormented boy is also forced to lie on his back next to Curt. Then the girl is forced to lie on the other side of Curt. The arms of all three kids are bound to rings. One of the tuxedoed men dons a gold mask and speaks into the microphone. "For our closed circuit viewers, in a few minutes the festivities will be ending. We hoped you enjoyed tonight's triple feature including the deflowering of two boys. And most of you saw pretty Carla's deflowering last night. We ask you back tomorrow night to watch another night of The Fort's Theater Productions. On this star-studded weekend, we promise another triple feature show with at least one fresh young virgin deflowered. I promise you tomorrow's will be a dog of a show." Hearing those words, the crowd breaks out in a knowing laughter. As the photographer's lights shut down, the crowd gets up from their seats and the masks are all shucked. Like in a Fellini movie, four young teen boys nude except for studded leather dog collars roll in carts full of buffet food and champagne bottles. For the next hour or so, Curt and the two other remain bound to the platform as nothing more than a centerpiece for this party celebrating their rapes. Countless hands and fingers explore the kid's bodies. Too often a guest whips out his tool and shoots a load onto the kid's face or bodies. The three kids are a mess, covered with countless shots of jism from the hundred guests. Eventually the party breaks up, and Curt is brought back to his room. Humiliated, degraded and angry Curt screams his frustrations. Covered in his ravisher's dry cum he falls to sleep. He is nothing more than a cum rag that cries. During the night, he dreams of the blonde biker who said I love you and then disappeared. And twice his lust betrays himself in the form of wet dreams. He won't admit it but he rather liked his abuse. Curt now locked in that darkened room slept for many hours, trying to heal his body agonized from the torture and abuse. In his dreams, he is again with Marc, tenderly making love. They left him on dirty mattress wearing just tattered underwear. His sticky body stinks of stale cum and piss. Only a greasy pillow and a thick itchy blanket offer comfort. The concrete walls and floor make the room a prison of solitary confinement, a dungeon. After many hours, he finally awakens, and then tries to move but the pain is too formidable. There is too much body hurt from the whips, the burns and the repeated rapes. From lying still so long, his muscles stiffened, making it harder to move without torment. But eventually he must urinate. Slowly he slides to the mattress's edge and pisses at the floor. He wishes he had the strength to wash off all the dried spooge and piss. Worn out from the exertion, he continues to drift in and out of sleep. Eventually Curt can no longer sleep. His body feels better as if someone rubbed a healing salve over the wounds. And in the air is a hint of a medicine. Curious Curt wonders who tended him. Perhaps it could have been Jon or the blonde biker? Perplexed but grateful, he struggles to sit up. At first he can't find the coordination. His muscles ache from inactivity. Over the next hours he pulls himself upright, wincing at the pain from lying still for days. It is time to face facts. If escape were possible from this hellhole, where could he run? Since his wallet is lost, there is no way he can find Marc's friend. Going back home is not an option, not with his step dad planning to send him to a military camp "to cure those fag feelings." Nor are the streets of New York City an option. Either those thugs would find him or he would end up in the clutches of some other perverts. He already knows he is easy prey for pimps. He contemplates the words of the mysterious blonde biker: "You did well, you did exactly as they want, and you won't be whipped anymore tonight I promise. You are safe, I will protect you." But was the protection just for the night or from all future harm? Tears rolls as the boy, hungry, thirsty and frightened he tries to survive in that darkened cell. Copyright 2002 by Kevin17.
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looking for a NO LIMITS live-in slave to own and pimp out . MASTER
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Anonymous Breeding By The Hotel Concierge
rawTOP posted a topic in Bug Chasing & Gift Giving FICTION
I recently had to go to Cleveland, Ohio, on a business trip for several days. My company put me up in one the very expensive, downtown, hi-rise hotels. I was totally unfamiliar with the area, alone in my room, horny as always, and bored out of my mind. I decided to use the concierge service to try and find some "fun" gay bars within walking distance of the hotel. I called the concierge from my room, and asked if he could recommend any good gay leather bars, or BDSM oriented bath houses in the downtown area. This request definitely gave him pause, but he then replied "there's nothing within walking distance like that, but I might be interested". He asked what I liked, and I told him I liked to be tied to the bed naked, blindfolded, and used for sex. He said "ummmmm", I get off at 8:00, I'd be glad to stop by your room and see how you're doing. He knew my room number, and had a pass key, so I told him I'd be waiting. I always carried a few "toys" in my suitcase, and this time I was glad I did. I stripped naked, put on my tightest cock ring, got out a couple of neckties, a blindfold, a ball gag, a tube of KY jelly, a riding crop, and a rubber dildo, and a couple of condoms. I then proceeded to do a very thorough job of tying my hands together, and then to the headboard. It was nearly 8:00, and I was lying on my back, naked, blindfolded, tied to bed, and waiting. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually, I heard a knock at the door, and someone said "concierge". Nervously, I spoke out, "come in". I heard the door open, close, and footsteps walking around the bed. I prayed it was the right person. Next I felt fingers lightly tracing up the inside of my thigh, lightly tickle my taught scrotum, and then yank hard on my cock. Then two hands firmly rolled me onto my stomach, stroked my thigh some more, then proceeded to slap my ass until it had to be cherry red. Then he slowly traced my ass cheeks, asshole, and lower back with his fingertips. I was in heaven. Then I heard him stand, and undress slowly, enjoying his power over me. He then rolled me back onto my back, and climbed onto the bed with his knees astraddle my head. He grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled my head up off the bed, and shoved his cock into my mouth. It was already large, and growing fast. He was literally fucking my throat, slow and deep, and there was no way for me to escape it. He clearly enjoyed sliding his cock all the way down my throat, leaving it there, and watching me struggle to breath. Occasionally he would pull it out, and slap my face with it a few times, then shove it back down my throat. He must have been really enjoying my discomfort, because he was hard as granite. After a while, he started using his free hand to reach behind him and search for my nipples. He quickly found one, and started lightly pinching and pulling it, slightly increasing the pressure until the pain became so intense I was squirming like a beached trout. I tried to cry out, but was effectively gagged my the huge cock jammed in my throat. When he tired of this, he dismounted, and proceeded to strap a ball gag into my mouth. He stacked several pillows on the bed next to my stomach, then rolled my onto them. This basically left me on my knees and elbows, hands tied, legs spread, blindfolded, and gagged. He spent a long time tracing small circles around my asshole, and teasing and tugging on my balls. Soon I heard him opening up the KY jelly, and felt him slide a cool, lubed finger deeply up my ass. That felt sooooo goooood. He probed with one finger for a while, then inserted two, then three. Soon he started sliding the rubber dildo up my ass, deeper than I would have thought possible. Again and again, slowly sliding in and out of my growing asshole. He was really stretching my tight, muscular sphincter. I have a really tight, muscular ass, and it needs a lot of stretching. While he continued dildo fucking my ass, he used his other hand to yank hard on my rigid cock, squeezing & pulling, over & over. After several minutes of this, I felt him move to a kneeling position behind me. I could feel his hips moving up behind my ass, and feel his hands spreading my ass cheeks. I felt the swollen head of his raw dick probing for my stretched, greasy opening. Soon he found it, slid his hands around to the side of my hips, and firmly shoved that monster all the way in me. I could feel my tight sphincter tear a bit, desperately trying to accommodate his blood engorged cock. I was a bit worried 'cause the few guys I had let fuck me raw in the past were guys I knew well and trusted when they said they were neg - and here was this complete stranger fucking me raw and I had no idea if he was poz or neg... I had just assumed he would use the condoms I put out, but he wasn't using them. I just hoped he'd at least pull out when he came... He held himself deep inside me for a few moments, savoring my tightness. I could tell he was taking sadistic pleasure from the total control he had over me, and the anonymity of my not even knowing who he was. Soon he started slowly pumping his cock in and out of my ass, long, deep strokes. I could tell that I was nothing more than a piece of meet he was using to jack off into. Luckily, that's just the way I truly love to be used. His firm grip on my hips totally controlled the pace of his abuse. He slowly increased the tempo, slamming his hard cock into my ass, over and over. I could feel his balls slapping against my thighs with each successive plunge. After what seemed like an eternity, he reached a feverish, impassioned pace, slamming into my ass just as deep and fast as he could manage. Suddenly, he plunged in, stopped, and I could feel a shiver run through his entire body. He cried out with a incredibly loud, long, moaning groan, and started shooting squirt after squirt of hot cum deep inside me. I knew he hadn't used a condom, but there wasn't a damn thing thing I could do about it. He just held himself inside me, milking out every last drop of his hot cum. All I could do was hope he was neg... Then he just went limp, and leaned over onto my back. I could feel his cock slowly softening, and gently being drawn out of my wet, greasy hole. When he finally slid all the way out, I could feel the cum leaking from my ass and dribbling down my balls, scrotum, and inner thighs. He needed a moment or two to regroup. He was obviously totally satisfied, and physically spent. My ass hurt like it was on fire, but my cock was hard as a rock, just throbbing and waving about - apparently my dick didn't share my brain's concerns - it liked me getting bred by an anonymous top. He made no move at all to untie me, but eventually dressed himself. He walked up behind me, slapped me on the ass, and said "oh, by way, I'm not really the concierge, I was just covering the phone while she used the bathroom". He then loosened the knot on the headboard, enabling me to eventually free myself. But by the time I did that, he was long gone. I felt up my hole and found there was blood mixed in with the cum that was seeping out of my ass - he had fucked me pretty hard. If he was poz, I guess I was now as well. You'd think I would have been scare of what just happened, but I was so fucking horny that I immediately jerked myself off using his cum for lube. I shot a tremendous load, squirt after squirt. God I was hot. I guess I'll never know who he was or what he looked like. That's too bad, because he changed my life... It finally convinced me to become a professional male escort, doing bondage/rape sessions for whoever wants to pay my price. And yeah, I stopped worrying and just let guys bareback me if they wanted to. I've come to see that deep down I'm just a cumhole - it's not my place to say 'no' or ask questions... -
When he presses the buzzer I open my door and buzz him into the building. Quickly I get back on the bed, face down, wearing a slave collar, and leather wrist and ankle cuffs. As I hear the door shut and hear him come into the room, my heart begins to race... focusing in on the quiet sounds that for some reason seem so loud... the sound of his zipper, belt buckle, the sound of his clothes coming off and falling to the floor... not knowing what will happen next. Though my heart races, it is from excitement not fear. The fear ended long ago, and was replaced by unending trust. My master hurts me, uses me, abuses me, but I am never harmed and I have no fear of being harmed. I do what he tells me, I never say no, and I never feel the need to question or think it over first. The only needs that matter are his needs. What I need doesn't matter, but I can tell you that it is very fulfilling and rewarding to see that his needs are met, and to see him get turned on. Truthfully, that is enough for me. There is nothing that makes me happier than to see him have a good time. As I'm face down in the pillow, he grabs me by the collar and lifts me up off the bed, arching my back. Under his breath he tells me that I'm a fuckin pig and that I had better please him. As I start to get light-headed and feeling weak... I can feel his hand pressing at my hole, testing to be sure I'm properly lubed and loosened up. He lets go of the collar and I fall onto the bed. As I reach out to grab poppers, the loud crack of his hand whacking my ass fills the room as he gives his first order. "ASS UP - HEAD DOWN!" I am so overwhelmed with excitement and poppers, what he said just didn't register quickly, and I didn't respond fast enough. "DOUCHE BAG! ARE YOU FUCKIN' STUPID? I SAID ASS UP HEAD DOWN!" I am startled, though not scared, when suddenly he smacks me upside the head. Quickly, I follow his order and get in position. Immediately, he uses his knees to kick my legs apart. As he sticks his cock up my ass, he grabs me by the collar and shoves my head down in the pillows. I don't resist because I know how good he always is to me. Submitting to everything he wants is the only means I have to prove my trust to him. My ass starts to rock and he smacks me again telling me to tighten up. As I tighten up, he starts to moan. Hearing him moan with pleasure in addition to the incredible feeling of his cock deep in my ass, brings me to the very verge of shooting my load. I have to work hard to distract myself, despite the feeling of my cum boiling inside, aching to get out, making me twitch and tremble. He pulls out and backs off, reaching over to lube up that huge dildo. It measures 9 X 8 and is really huge. We are using it to work towards the day when I take his fist. That will be a very special moment. As he lubes it up, I reach for the poppers and take a real big hit. He starts to work that dildo slowly in my hole, twisting and thrusting it to get me looser. He's being really careful when it gets deep.. so as not to harm me. But as I get higher and higher on poppers.. I can't help myself. I start to buck around like a wild animal. I want to take it all the way, I want to show him that I'm making progress. I want to prove to him I'm trying. With him holding it in place, I'm backing into it, wiggling onto it, being the hungry fucking bitch I am.. I fantasize that he will overpower me and force it all the way in, but I know that he is more cautious and caring than that. He is cruel, but he would never harm his pig nor risk injuring me. He's very good to me. He orders me "DON'T MOVE! STAY STILL!" Despite my complete and total respect of him, I am so out of control I just can't help myself. My teeth are clenched, I'm breathing rapidly, and growling like an angry dog as I continue to buck around trying to take that dildo. I am consumed by the moment and not even realizing that I am acting in total defiance of the master who I worship. Worried, I think, that I would get more out of control and injure myself, he yells "I TOLD YOU NOT TO MOVE, ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?" He grabbed me by the collar and yanked me up, smacking me in the head and continuing to yell. He punched me in the back, and it snapped me into reality. I froze in place, motionless, except for my rapid breathing. Agitated and panting, my mouth going dry, I was motionless. "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING? WHEN I SAY DON'T MOVE BITCH; YOU DON'T FUCKING MOVE!" I didn't respond, I didn't move. "I AM GOING TO HAVE TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU NOW, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?" I never say no to my master. He is too good to me. I just screwed up so bad, I had to be punished. I knew it. I couldn't make it worse by saying no. I nodded affirmatively. He looked around the room and grabbed my belt. He reached down on the floor and picked up one of his socks, stuffing it into my mouth. If he needed to keep me quiet, I knew this would be bad. He walked around the other side of the bed, and yelled "IS THIS WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT? IS IT?" I turned my head to see him standing there. His perfect v-shaped body, an angry look on his face, and the belt doubled back in his hand, cocked and pulled back ready to strike hard. "IS THIS WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT CUNT?" I nodded affirmatively. As I saw him cock back further ready to strike, my eyes closed. The crack of the belt filled the room, the sting was intense. A few more lashes with that belt, each one getting harder and more painful. Just when I started to think that I couldn't take any more, he threw the belt on the floor. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD FUCKING DO THIS!" The disappointment in his voice made my mind race, wondering what would happen next, and trying to think of a way to fix this mistake. With his sock still in my mouth, he grabbed me by the collar and dragged me into the bathroom. I was crawling on my hands and knees but being pulled at the same time, feeling weak due to the tightness of the collar. He ordered me in the tub. While I was kneeling in the tub, I could see the disappointed look on his face. He pulled his sock out of my mouth, rolled it up into a ball, held it out and started to piss all over it. It was so soaked with his piss that it was dripping. He held it in front of my mouth and ordered: "OPEN!" I opened my mouth wide, and he shoved his sock completely in. My mouth was filled with the sock and the taste of his piss when he ordered "CLOSE!" I closed my mouth and stared at the floor of the tub in complete shame. He then said, "I WAS JUST ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING NICE, AND THEN YOU HAD TO GO AND DO THIS! YOU JUST STAY THERE AND DON'T MOVE!" As he walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, I hung my head in shame. This is the man I worship. This is the man who is trying to teach me to be a better pig. He beats me not because he hates me, he beats me because he wants the best for me, but I frustrate him really bad when I fuck up. The feeling of shame was just overwhelming. As I kneeled in the tub in complete silence, I heard the sound of him pouring a large glass of water from the pitcher. Time elapsed and again I heard water being poured from the pitcher. I knew what would soon follow, but of course I never know for sure. My master is very unpredictable. Time passed, what seemed like a very long time, and I didn't hear a single sound. I began to worry that something might be wrong with my master. Is he that angry with me or has something happened to him? I listened even closer, trying my best to hear some noise, something at all, to show me that he was ok. Hearing nothing at all, I began to get very concerned. I was contemplating calling out to him, asking him if he was OK, but was very worried that he might think that I was an impatient pig, or trying to rush him. I'm patient, but if something was wrong, I would hate my master to think that I'm an uncaring pig or a selfish pig. I love my master, and if something were wrong I would run to assist him, just as I know he would do for me even though I'm just a pig. I turned my head looking out into the hallway, hoping again to hear something, and just then, he rounded the corner coming into the bathroom. I quickly began looking at the floor of the tub, and hoped that he hadn't seen me looking out into the hallway. I was so relieved that everything was OK with him. He grabbed me by the collar and pulled me so that I was facing him. I didn't look at him because when a pig makes eye contact it is disrespectful and considered an act of aggression. I stared straight ahead at his cock, only inches from my face. I jumped, startled, as he leaned down and spit in my face. As his spit dripped down my cheek, I once again filled with shame. When master spits in my face, he is letting me know how disgusted and upset he is with me. He grabbed my by the collar hard, and yanked me up, ordering me out of the tub and onto the floor. I got out of the tub and kneeled quickly on the floor. Still holding my collar, he pushed me over closer to the toilet, and slowly pushed me down into the bowl, stopping with my face just inches from the water. "YOU NEED TO FUCKIN LEARN PIG, TO DO WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO!" With that said, he pushed my face down into the water. It was ice cold and I couldn't breathe. Out of reaction, certainly not defiance, I pushed back to get my face out of the water. He tightened up his grip and held me firmly under water. I stopped resisting. I worked hard to just relax and stay calm. I didn't fight. He held my head under with just one hand, and then crouched down enough to get his cock up my hole. My mind was running out of control. Feelings of panic held back only by my unending trust in him, but so distracted and turned on by the feeling of him fucking my ass slow and deep, making me want to cum like never before. It's as if he wanted to really fuck up my head, giving me all these emotions to process all at once... all of course, while unable to speak or breathe. Overwhelmed, I had to focus on showing my trust in him, and obedience. I was determined to show I was a good pig, and a sturdy durable pig. Finally he grabbed my collar and yanked me up out of the water. Gasping for breath, panting, and dripping in ice cold water, I realized that only about thirty seconds had elapsed, but it sure felt like an eternity. He held me by the collar and ordered me back in the tub. When trying to stand up, shaken, I slipped on the wet floor, but my master held tight and didn't let me fall. I'm sure that I looked like a pathetic pig. Master said nothing. He is good to me, and never judges me. Sure he calls me a douche bag, a slut, a cunt, a whore, a pig, but these are not criticisms, these are just facts. I knelt in the tub facing him, and soon a quick stream of piss hit me in the face. I flinched, startled. I try to stay still, but no matter how hard I try, I always flinch when his piss hits me in the face. I feel ashamed, because I always worry that he may think that I don't like his piss. I love his piss. Giving me his piss is one of the nicest things he does for me. That's how I know that he cares. I wish I weren't greedy, but sometimes a pig just can't help himself. I stared as his cock like a hungry bitch, and opened my mouth wide, hoping that he might be so good to me as to fill my mouth with his piss and let me drink it. He aimed, and started spraying a stream of his hot piss in my mouth. I can't describe the taste, but it makes the cum start to boil inside me. I try to enjoy as much as I can, but with my mouth open, it spills out, and when I close my mouth for a second just to swallow, it sprays all over my face. He stopped. "YOU'RE WASTING ALOT OF MY PISS, MAYBE I SHOULD JUST FINISH PISSING IN THE TOILET! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO?" He moved and stood in front of the toilet waiting for my response. I shook my head and pleadingly said "NO! PLEASE! I'M TRYING!" He turned back and stuck his cock in my mouth. Patiently, I waited for it to start. He started to trickle his piss in my mouth, I waited a few seconds and took the first gulp. A moment later, he put it up to full pressure, and I could feel it streaming and swirling around in my mouth. I was having to take a big gulp every few seconds, my cheeks puffing out, but not spilling a drop. Gulp after gulp, I was going into a trance, wanting it never to end. I am always thankful that he is so good to me. My needs don't matter, I know that, but my master is good to me even though I don't deserve it. He ordered me not to move, and left the room. I was so horny and hard, I really thought that I was going to just shoot cum everywhere. I had his piss all over my face, in my hair, on my chest, dripping everywhere. I was a mess. I was the ultimate example of a total pig. Cold, wet, exploited, shivering, emotionally broken down, but yet appreciative. A long time passed, slowly I began to dry. Periodically I would hear him pouring more water from the pitcher to his glass. I felt bad that I wasn't there to do it for him. That's one of my jobs. He came back in the bathroom, I was still kneeling, and mostly dry. The smell of his dried piss was all over me, marking his property. He does own me after all. He grabbed the red rubber douche bag, unscrewed the hose, and began to piss into the bag. I couldn't believe how much piss he had in him. "ASS UP HEAD DOWN!" he ordered. I quickly got in position. He got in the tub with me, straddling my body. As I looked at the floor of the tub, I was staring at his beautiful feet, standing in droplets of his own piss...wanting to lick the piss off of his feet. I have so much trust in him, I was in my own world, not even paying attention to him as he played with my ass and inserted the tube. That's part of being a pig I guess. I heard the click of the valve being released, open, and soon felt my insides being completely filled with master's hot precious piss. I can't even describe how warm and secure it made me feel... content to be as always, in his total control. I was starting to feel really full, almost a little discomfort. I wouldn't complain though, what could be better than to be that full of piss from the master you worship. The discomfort was just a tiny sacrifice to prove my respect and appreciation. He clicked the valve off and set the bag aside. He told me to hold it. I tried, and did well, until he started to finger my ass. His piss was spraying out a little here and there. "ARE YOU LEAKING?" he asked, taunting me, "I TOLD YOU TO HOLD IT" I started to explain, "I'M TRYING BUT..." he interrupted "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I was getting so turned on, so horny, just realizing that here I was with my hot master, his toy, and completely filled with his piss... Before I could even imagine what was going to happen next he crouched down and slowly stuck his cock right up my ass. As he started to slowly ram it in and out, his precious piss was spilling out all over the place. I tried to tighten up so I wouldn't spill more, but my efforts were useless. I was watching his hot piss running down the bottom of the tub between my legs. I was feeling like such a useless pig. I wanted so bad to hold it as he told me to, but I couldn't stop it. I was worried that I was disappointing him once again. Slowly he began to moan and really get into it, with his piss spilling everywhere. He sounded so excited and so turned on, my worries disappeared and the moment began to consume me. Once again this pig was getting overwhelmed with the whole situation. An ass full of piss, my master's cock pounding my ass, and moans that proved beyond any doubt that he was having a good time. When my master is having a good time, it just drives me wild. Abruptly he stopped. He stood up, and stepped out of the tub. As he walked out of the bathroom, he said under his breath. "CLEAN YOURSELF OFF." I took a deep breath and stood up. I was a total mess. I was too covered in piss to even step onto the floor. I had to empty the rest of his piss right there in the tub. It broke my heart to let go of it, but I did. I felt a sense of accomplishment. When my master moans, it makes me feel like a good pig. I never get overconfident though, if anything, it inspires me to be even better. Feeling like I had done a good job, I was happy. I just felt great, and slowly unbuckled my wrist and ankle cuffs, and one by one threw them over into the sink, then I removed my slave collar. I took a hot shower and cleaned up real nice for my master. I wanted to get back on the bed with him, all warm and clean. When I finished, I cleaned up the cuffs and collar, dried myself off, and returned to the bedroom. I stood at the end of the bed, and with determination, put my collar and cuffs back on. I wanted to show him that pig was reporting again for duty. When I was done, I got face down on the bed beside him, but of course respectfully, with my head at the foot of the bed, and trying not to take up much room. Like a loyal dog, this pig takes comfort in being near his master, even when nothing is happening. He rested his feet on my back, and just watched the porn movie that was playing. I didn't move. I was peacefully still, my face buried in the sheets, just enjoying the moment. I wanted it to go on forever. After our rest, he ordered me to move towards the center of the bed and stay on my stomach. He lubed up my ass and started to play. It was a few moments before I had realized, that he was not using his hand, but using his foot...to see how much of his foot he could get up my bitch hole. He started to laugh at me, but it never bothers me. I love to turn him on, and love to entertain him, and it felt so good to be comfortable with him, and so good to be his toy. Soon he ordered me to turn around. When I turned around he ordered me to clean his foot. With enthusiasm, I licked his toes, and the bottom of his foot. I got it as wet as I could, and opened wide so that he could stick his foot in my mouth. I tried so hard to get as much of his foot in my mouth as possible. I tried too hard. I scraped his foot with my teeth. "YOU FUCKING CUNT! BE CAREFUL! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" I held his foot with both of my hands, and continued to lick and suck his foot carefully. The whole time, gently rubbing his foot lovingly while holding it with the other, to show him how sorry I was. He grabbed me by the collar and pulled me higher up on the bed and pushed my face down in the pillows. Once again he grabbed that 9 x 8 dildo and started lubing it up, and lubing up my ass. I reached and grabbed the poppers, and had a short blast. At this point in our time together, I was pretty loosened up even without poppers. He was working it really good, and quite deep and suddenly paused. He reached down on the floor to grab his one dry sock and reached for the ethyl chloride. He sprayed it heavily on his sock, concentrating it in one spot, drenched. He reached and grabbed my collar with one hand, and with his other hand, cupped the ethyl covered sock over my mouth. There was no getting away from him, and of course I didn't want to. I was being taken, being assaulted, being drugged, unable to resist his power, and not wanting to either. I am his to take total control of. It was sprayed so strong, I could feel it burn my lungs. I took three deep breaths. In through my mouth covered with the sock, and out through my nose. This avoids wasting any when I exhale. At the end of the third breath, he started to release his hand over my mouth, but being a hungry bitch, I wanted more. I buried my face into his hand, pressing hard. I wanted to show him that he was taking me with full consent. I was going to be his drugged fuck toy, a helpless defenseless pig. I don't need to defend myself though, as I've said, my master would never harm me. Deep inside, I get even harder when he does take me by force, holding that ethyl sock over my mouth. I love it when he rapes me by force. But his judgment is better than my own, and he watches out for me even when I don't watch out for myself. He pulled his hand away, so that I couldn't breathe anymore of the ethyl. Now a drugged and wild horny out of control pig, I was so fucking hungry for that 9 x 8. I pushed hard to get myself opened up, and I could hear him gasp with excitement and shock. This bitch was takin' it! I was ravenous, and started to buck and growl, acting like a rabid dog, an out of control animal. I was taking it so well, he finally pulled out the dildo, and started to work his hand up my ass. There is nothing I want more than to do this for him. It's something we both want. It is going to be a very special moment when we do it. I want it so desperately I get out of control. Luckily, he keeps his head on straight, and realizes that we have to be patient so that pig doesn't get injured. I could feel him getting closer and closer, deeper and deeper, but then it started to get painful. Defiantly and without permission, I grabbed the ethyl spray and his sock, and sprayed that sock till it was wet. I took a few deep breaths and suddenly felt the wave come over me, I was now completely inhuman. Pure animal. Without permission I spoke, loudly, begging my master, "DO IT! DO IT! I KNOW WE CAN DO THIS! GO AHEAD! DO IT! I WANT TO DO THIS FOR YOU SO FUCKING BAD!" He slowed down, pulled back a bit, and stopped. Slowly, he pulled his hand out. We did not get all the way. He was silent. As a few minutes elapsed, my mind came back to reality, but he was still silent. He just was still. I began to reflect at my outburst. Realizing what a bad pig I had just been. Risking injury, defying his power. I began to remember when this happened earlier, and I took the belt. I can handle the belt, but I can't handle making angry the master who I worship. He said nothing. Sometimes he lets me off the hook. I don't know why. I suspect that maybe he realizes that sometimes I mean well, and just get out of control. We relaxed, and as minutes went by, I began to really feel the need to piss. I asked for permission and was denied. Time went by, and the need to piss was so intense I couldn't think of anything else, so I had to ask him again for permission. "OK - YOU CAN PISS - BUT YOU KNOW THE DRILL!" I do know the drill. If I have to piss during our time together, I must piss in a bowl and then drink it. I went and got a bowl, went into the bathroom and in seconds, filled the entire bowl with piss. I returned to the bedroom. Usually we keep pissplay in the bathroom. When I came back into the bedroom he looked surprised. "WHERE IS YOUR PISSBOWL PIG?" I replied "IN THE BATHROOM" He looked at me in disgust and said, "WELL GET ON YOUR FUCKIN HANDS AND KNEES AND GO GET IT!" I got on my hands and knees and crawled into the bathroom. I had to hold the full bowl with one hand and crawl back on my knees, using my other hand to balance me. I have never moved so slowly and carefully, thinking of the $4,000 check I wrote last year to carpet this place. When I got back into the bedroom, he was relaxing on the bed watching me carefully. "GET A TOWEL AND PUT IT ON THE FLOOR - PUT THE BOWL ON THE TOWEL!" It took me a few moments, but I was able to get that accomplished. He came over to where I was on the floor, and told me to kneel in front of the bowl. He got behind me, and grabbed me by the collar, twisting it until I began to feel lightheaded. He let go and ordered me to lean over and drink the piss. Slowly I leaned forward, and just as I got my face over the bowl, he put his hand on the back of my head and forced my face into the bowl of piss. With my nose and mouth completely immersed, I could not breathe. He held me there and ordered me to drink. Soon, I realized that he was not going to let me up to breath, I would have to drink it quickly to lower the level of piss in the bowl to allow myself to breathe. It didn't take more than four or five big slurps, until I could breathe. I stopped to catch my breath, and at that moment, he shoved his dick into my ass and started fucking me again. While he's fucking me, he commented, "IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE YOU'RE FINISHED - START DRINKING" I'm trying to drink piss from a bowl without spilling while he is slowly fucking my ass. I am fucking out of my mind and out of control wanting to shoot my load, but too busy slurping up piss. Finally I finished, and took a deep breath. He ordered me to lick the bowl clean, and I did. "GET ON YOUR BACK!" he ordered. Quickly I complied. Flat on my back, on the floor, staring at the ceiling, poppers close by. He grabbed me by the balls and started to squeeze. I started to moan, and really thought I was going to cum. While squeezing with one hand, he started to lightly hit my balls with the palm of his other hand. It was a delicious pain. Such a sweet deep pain. I reached for the poppers and started to moan. For several moments I was pure heaven. He then told me to jerk off. OH FUCK! This was going to be great. I began stroking it and he continued working my balls real hard. I took a hit of poppers and kept going. While holding my balls and pulling them with one hand, he reached up and grabbed my collar, twisting and pulling it until I was almost sitting up and in his arms. Both hands going tighter, there was no avoiding it anymore. Cum went exploding in all directions. Releasing a build up for days, not to mention after being on the verge for several hours or heavy duty play. I collapsed on the floor, totally spent, totally used up. While I was still on the floor on my back, he sat on the end of the bed. We had a nice talk, though it was mostly about my failings as a pig. Where I fall short, where I need to improve. I finally admitted to him that I knew I wasn't doing a very good job. He was glad that I understood. He was really nice about it, not mean at all. Still, I felt bad, knowing how I disappoint him often. But it gives me something to work towards. My only purpose is to please him.
