Enslaved on Vacation, Chapter 8 (Gay, authoritarian)
I crouched on the kitchen floor dejected. My body was on overload from my Master's torment -- my newly shaved skin tingled and shivered, my cock ached for a release I feared was a long way off, my knees were starting to hurt from all the crawling, I was humiliated beyond belief, and I couldn't rid my mouth of the putrid gravy aftertaste that results from eating Alpo. Worse was that was my stomach. The Fibrolax that Drew had made me drink was making for a constant abdominal pain. I was starting to really have to focus on my bowels to avoid disaster.
As I struggled to crawl into the living room, I thought about the best possible way to beg for a bathroom break. I slunk to his feet. "May I please have permission to ask a question, Master?" Drew must have been able to hear the anguish in my voice and he knew he had me on the ropes.
"Sure, faggot, but I don't know what you possibly could want," he sarcastically replied.
"Please, Master. I really, really, really need to take a shit. My stomach is killing me. I feel like I am about to explode, Master. Please." I whined and begged at his feet, which seemed to be one of his favorite activities for me.
"Hmm. Well I wasn't planning on letting you go all night. You need to learn to control your fucking body. But you do seem to be having a rough time of it. I don't know."
"Oh please, Master. I'll do anything." As usual, I started kissing his feet as I groveled. Master seemed to like it when I voluntarily subjected myself to such an extreme level of degradation.
"Hmm. Well I am feeling generous. I guess I could make you a little deal. Your fourth ordeal was supposed to last for a half an hour. If you really want to go to the bathroom, I am going to double it to an hour...and then you can go relieve yourself after it's over." I was NOT happy that I was going to have to wait another hour. Nor was I happy that he had just decided to double whatever my next nightmare was. I didn't know if I could hold it that long. But at least he had agreed to let me go. "Speaking of that fourth ordeal, I bet you wanna get fucking started. I know I do."
At that, Master Drew ordered me to get up on my knees and put my hands on my head. He retrieved a tube of Extra Strength Ben Gay from his bag of supplies. "Do you know what this is, slave?"
I was puzzled. Although I had never used it before, I did know what it was. "Yes, Master. It's for people who have muscle aches."
Drew laughed. "I guess that's right. Do you have any muscle aches, bitch?"
"Um, no Master. Not really."
"Well what about your fucking penis muscles? They look like they could use some relief."
I got it now. I imagined that Ben Gay probably made the skin really cool and tingly, almost numb even. It probably wouldn't be the most pleasant, but it probably wouldn't be as bad as the goddamn dog food either. "Whatever you say, Master."
"That's right--whatever I say. So let me fully explain. Your fourth ordeal is this. Every five minutes, I will apply a fresh layer of Ben Gay to your cock and balls. You will kneel there with your hands on your head and smile. You will even thank me every time I do it. You will say `Thank you for touching my worthless cock, Master.' This will go on for a full hour. That's twelve fucking applications of cream. Oh, and don't worry...I have another tube just in case I run out. If you make it through the hour without fucking up, then I might let you take your little bathroom break. Is that understood, faggot?"
I nodded. Master Drew looked at his watch, and at the appropriate moment, cracked open the tube and squirted a huge glob of the stuff into his hand. He started with my cockhead and rubbed it generously with the goop. Covering the full surface, he moved on to my ball sack and did the same to it. I have to admit, the touch of his hands on my genitals felt awesome, and I truly did mean it when I said, "Thank you for touching my worthless cock, Master." The Ben Gay at first just felt really cool on the skin. Within a few seconds, though, I realized that this was not going to be a walk in the park. The tip of my cock started to burn a bit. And then my balls. The pain intensified until it felt like my entire scrotum had caught fire. If I thought my cock had been in agony before from the Viagra and lack of release, I was learning a new definition of misery now. I had seriously never felt anything so horrendously painful. It felt like someone had stuck a hot iron inside my dick and was prodding around. I wanted to scream. But Master had instructed me to smile through the whole thing. As I knelt there in the middle of his living room, I squirmed my hips a bit, trying in vain to gain some sort of relief. I struggled to maintain the fake smile I had plastered on my face. Drew could see the pain in my eyes, and was enjoying every minute of it.
Just as I was starting to get accustomed to the sting, Master's watch beeped, signifying it was time for the second application. This time there was a little less sincerity in my voice as I said, "Thank you for touching my worthless cock, Master." With each five-minute period, the pain got a little worse. My cock and balls burned a little more intensely. Inexplicably, though, with each five minutes, my desire for my torturous young Master grew a little more as well, and my cock seemed to grow a little harder. Obviously, I stayed completely aroused for the entire hour, even though it was without a doubt the most agonizing pain I had ever experienced.
At long last, the hour was up. "Time's up. You did well, slave. Tell me how your cock feels, and be honest."
"It feels miserable, Master. I have never been in so much pain in my life."
"Haha. That's fucking great. How about your stomach. Do you still need to shit?"
I guess as a result of the ungodly pain that had overcome my groin area, I had almost forgotten about my stomach troubles. But the moment Drew brought it up again, I again noticed the grumbling of my stomach. Come to think of it, I was amazed I had made it through the hour without having an accident. "Oh hell yes, Master. I really have to go. Please let me."
"Hmm, well I don't want dog shit all over my floor, bitch. I guess I will be fucking generous and let you go, but only on a few conditions." There ALWAYS seemed to be conditions, I thought, as I admired Master Drew's torturous smile. "For one, between my front door and the women's bathroom by the pool, you have to hop on your left foot. If you fucking try to run or walk or do anything but hop, I will buy ten more tubes of Ben Gay and fucking drown your cock in it. Got that, bitch?"
"Yes, Master." It was going to be tough enough trying not to attract attention to myself without bouncing up and down on one foot, but as usual, this complicated matters. I was hairless and naked, wearing a goddamn dog collar, and being forced to prance to a public women's restroom. But as I glanced at the clock, I noticed it was almost 11:00, and I knew the pool was supposed to be closed by now. I prayed that no one would be in the pool area.
"Also," Master continued, "remember you are a complete bitch, so anyone you meet, you should be careful to address them as Sir or Ma'am. You need to learn how to fucking respect your superiors. And pretty much everyone is superior to you, faggot." Master Drew laughed, really soaking in the degradation he was laying on me. "Now get your ass moving. If you take too long, I'll just have to punish you more."
He slapped my ass, and that was all I needed to hurry to the door. Master Drew slammed it behind me, and although there was no one in view in the outside hallway, in my mind it seemed like I was in the center of a sold-out football stadium. I had never been naked in such a public place, or any public place really for that matter. Sure, I had lost a bet with friends and had to streak around a house or something like that once or twice, but that was nothing. I literally could be caught by any of hundreds of resort guests, and I was naked and wearing a dog collar. Resigned to my fate, and with my stomach screaming for relief, I started hopping down the hall towards the pool area. This was much harder than I had imagined. Like I said, I was very athletic, so balance was not an issue. What was an issue, though, was the fact that my aching cock and balls, still on fire from the hellacious hour of Ben Gay, bounced up and down, jarring against my thighs with every hop. It was constant pain that I didn't want or need. Nevertheless, I continued to bound towards the location of my relief, and as I rounded the corner to the wide open pool area, I breathed a sigh of relief -- there wasn't a soul in sight.
By this time, I had really caught my stride, and was taking huge hopping bounds (as painful as they were, they were efficient). I scurried by the pool and was halfway to the restroom hut when I heard a loud laugh. "FAAAAGGGGG!!" It was Master Drew's voice yelling. By this point, I would recognize that sexy condescending tone anywhere. I turned my head enough to see him cracking up on his balcony. I was terrified that someone would hear and it would attract attention to me, but I thankfully made it into the restroom undetected.
It was a big, multi-person restroom, so I unfortunately couldn't lock the door. Not that there was time for that -- I made a beeline for the nearest stall and slammed my ass down on it. With a single motion, I exploded. I felt like I was shitting my large intestine out. Never in my twenty years had I gone that much at once. As I hunched on the toilet, catching my breath, I though about what must have been in that toilet. Probably the two bologna sandwiches my mom had fixed me for lunch (likely the last decent meal I will eat for a while, I thought). Maybe the charred chicken skins that Master had spit on and made me eat for dinner, and certainly the Alpo. God knows that shouldn't take long to digest. Either way, my stomach felt 1000% better.
With the pain in my stomach now alleviated, though, my body was able to focus in on what now seemed an even worse ache in my cock and balls. They still burned as if Master Drew had just now applied a fresh coating of Ben Gay, and all the jarring from the hop over had done them no good. I couldn't believe I had volunteered for all of this. What was even more baffling was my cock. I had never felt so turned on in my life, and in some twisted depth of my mind, I was enjoying every new punishment that my boy god master dreamed up.
A voice jarred me out of my reflective daze: "Excussa me, but the bassroom iss closing for de night." It sounded like a middle-aged Hispanic woman, and she was right outside my stall. She must have been there to clean for the night.
I struggled to collect myself. "Uhh, okay, I am sorry I will be right out...Ma'am," I said, remembering to address my "superiors" with respect.
After a brief pause, the woman replied. "You know dis is womans restroom. What you doing in here?"
"Oh, I am really sorry Ma'am. I must have been mixed up. It won't happen again." I really hoped it wouldn't happen again.
The woman did not seem fully satisfied with this response, but after another moment, she gruffly told me to hurry up and that she would be waiting outside to come in and clean. This was horrible. Now I would have someone waiting to witness me come out, naked as a newborn, and fully boned up. (My boner hadn't even gone down enough to allow me to piss). Not only that, but once outside the restroom, I would have to immediately start hopping, or else suffer my Master's added wrath. I resolved that I would not say a word to the woman, but would just turn and hop quickly away and hope she didn't pursue me.
I quickly wiped my ass, exited the stall, and washed my hands. I looked in the mirror at the faggot I had become. Sure I had always been gay, but this was different. Eight hours ago, I had been an apparently straight, popular soccer jock, your normal all-American teenage boy. Now I was standing in the women's bathroom naked. I had absolutely no hair anywhere below my neck, something I hadn't experienced probably for almost a decade. I was taking orders from a younger boy. And to top it off, I was wearing a dog collar. I shook my head. "It will be worth it," I though, picturing Master Drew's unbelievably sexy body. I took a deep breath and swung the door to the bathroom open.
The woman hadn't been lying when she said she would wait right outside. She couldn't have been more than a few feet away from the door, and her chin dropped in shock at the sight of me. Her eyes looked more disgusted than anything, and as I hurriedly hopped away, she muttered, "ehhhh...Maricon." I had no idea what it meant, but I knew by her tone that it wasn't a compliment. Again, Master Drew was laughing his ass off from the balcony above. Luckily for me, I think he was laughing too intensely even to shout anything derogatory. I was also very relieved that the Spanish cleaning woman hadn't had the desire to try and track me down.
Within two minutes, I found myself back at the door to unit 269, and knocked quietly so as not to attract attention. Master Drew opened it slightly, but the chain lock was on so I couldn't get in. He smirked at me through the opening, and even as I dreaded what he had in mind, I couldn't help but notice the gleam in his boyish dimples and think about how badly I wanted him.
"Not so fast, faggot. Admission isn't fucking free."
I really did not want to hear this. I had pressed my luck long enough out here, and it was only a matter of time before someone came out of their room and discovered me. "Come on, Master. Please let me back in. I want to serve you more and I can't do it from out here. Pleeease, Master." I slunk to my knees. I mentally noted that it was seemingly every five minutes that I ended up voluntarily kneeling at my Master's feet begging for one thing or another.
"Here's what you have to do to get back in, fag. First, put your hands on your head, and go hump that railing across the way. Do it for a full minute, and then stand up and yell `I AM A WORTHLESS CUNT' at the top of your lungs. Now I know you don't have a fuckin' watch on, so you'll have to estimate the minute. But if you don't hump for at least a full minute, or if I don't think you screamed at the top of your lungs, I'll make you do it all over again. Now get started, faggot."
God, Drew was really evil. Clever, but evil. I knew arguing would get me nowhere, so I crawled over to the railing he had indicated. It was only a few feet from his door. I put my hands up on my head and started humping a post on the railing. I bucked my hips in and out, and knew I must really look like a slut. Despite the fear of being noticed and the intense humiliation, it actually felt great for my cock to get some friction like this, even if I knew I wasn't allowed to cum. Knowing that I had to err on the long side of a minute, I slowly counted to 90 as I humped. Miraculously, no one appeared to notice. Having finished, I cupped my hands around my mouth and prepared to carry out the second part of my "admission fee." I really hoped Drew would open the door quickly and let me in, because I knew people would come out to see what the yelling was about. I let it rip: "I AM A WORTHLESS CUNT." It echoed off the buildings, and as I yelled it, I actually believed it. I was a worthless cunt. I was Master Drew's property, no better than the dirty sock he made me suck earlier. He could use me, abuse me, degrade me, and throw me out. My cock seemed to love that, but the rest of me was still getting used to it.
Thankfully, Master Drew's door swung open immediately, and he grinned widely as I hurried to crawl inside. He closed the door behind me. I didn't need to be told that I owed him a thank you. Diving at his feet, I started my usual groveling. "Thank you so much for letting me use the restroom and for letting me back into your condo, Master. I am your worthless cunt and you are so generous to me, Master." It was a sincere thank you. I was glad to be back inside; safe from the peering eyes of the vacationing public, but far from safe from my Master's devious mind.
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