inferior nothing By: Rob Y haverimseat4you@gmail.com http://www.sgttate.com
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"So tell me, how are you enjoying my gift?" is the text that greets me only hours after he last left. Before I can text my response, a second message comes through. "Those turds better still be in the toilet."
How do I respond to that? The only thing that I can respond with is "Yes My Lord."
"Good. I want you to jerk off thinking how lucky you are to be able to smell me when I am not around. When you cum, send me evidence. And tell me how grateful you are to me for continually letting you experience my gift."
"Yes, My Lord." I begin to type my response. "Your gift is something I have never dreamed of receiving from such an infinitely superior being. I smell it all day. When I do, I know I am completely underserving of such generosity. It makes me more inferior with every sniff, with every thought I have. I am truly an inferior nothing My Lord."
There is a part of me that is just playing along with this. But with each text I send him, extolling his superiority, that "acting out of a scene" becomes more natural. He is incredible. I have never been with a leather top who has a presence like him, that can control like him, that keeps me continually horny like him--even when he's not here. He's also so fucking hot. I do feel like he's superior, and that I am inferior to him. As I think those thoughts, logically I know there a bit of role play, and that he's not truly superior to me. But, yet I know deep down this feeling of being inferior to him is so natural. It feels right. I want to do right by him. I want to serve him the way he's entitled to. I want him to be pleased.
Before I send my text to him, I take a selfie next to the toilet bowl and send it.
His response is immediate. "That was delightfully unexpected. My piece of shit next to my piece of shit. Love it." It is followed by, "Before I return, you are to send me your log-ins and passwords for your computer, your Facebook account, Twitter, etc."
After a half day of thinking about it, I compile the list and send it. I can always change the passwords at a later time.
For the next day, I wait for his text, but they don't come. I have the hood nearby to put on when he contexts me. The dildo locked inside me continually makes its presence felt, but nothing too uncomfortable, unlike the dump I need to take. If he doesn't come by today, I will follow his instruction and use the shower.
It's getting later than when he usually texts me, so it seems that he won't show up today. I go about my morning cleaning in the kitchen, when I hear his voice outside my apartment. I immediately put on the hood.
It's a false alarm, as the voice outside my apartment is carrying on a muffled conversation with another guy. I'm about to reach up to remove the hood, when the voices come in crystal clear.
"You have to excuse that the place smells like a rest area. The hole that lives here loves it."
It's his voice.
"It's ok."
That's a voice I don't recognize.
He's here, and he brought someone with him. Being that the kitchen is not in line of sight of the front door, they can't initially see me.
The stranger's voice speaks again. "Well hello..."
He is cut off. "Just ignore it. It's really nothing. Get your ass in the bedroom and get naked." A moment later I hear my bedroom door close.
I stand in the kitchen unable to move. Did he just bring some other guy to my place to fuck? He did. I can hear them moaning. Lifting the hood above my eyes, I look into my living room. There is his duffle and garment bag.
I am shocked. He just let himself into my apartment to fuck a guy. Is this why he copies my keys? Is he going to transform my place into a motel? I don't know if I can handle this. I want to run into my bedroom and tell him to get out.
But I don't.
Why? Because I don't want to disturb him. I have a choice: kick him out, or accept this latest development. The fact that I am debating this choice and concluding that I don't want to disturb him tells me my answer. His pleasure trumps my self respect.
I do feel inferior, but it seems different than what I was thinking before. Now I feel like an object to him. I feel like something to use. I feel humiliated. But, like before, this feels completely natural. I feel like I should be doing more to make him feel more pleased and taken care of.
After what seems like twenty or thirty minutes, he calls for me "CUNT!"
Instinctively, I race into my own bedroom. Even though I have the hood on, I can see through the mesh at the two of them lying on my bed. He is on his back on the side nearest me. The other guy is snuggled up to him on his other side. I can barely tell what he looks like.
"Get me a bottled water. You want one?"
The guy answers, "No."
I race out of the room, and return with a cold bottle of water. I hand it to him.
"Now, clean my cock."
I drop to my knees along side my bed. His glistening dick is hard to miss even through the spandex. Putting the sticky and softening cock in my mouth, it feels great to have his massive dick in me again.
"What the fuck?" the guy asks.
I taste sweat and bitterness. It may not have been covered in shit, but ass slime is all over the place.
"It's nothing. It cleans me up from time to time."
The taste doesn't bother me. But mixed into the sweat and musk, there is a chemical taste, one that I have tasted before. It is lube. He used lube on this guy. When I was fucked, only his spit was used.
"I can see that. Why is he wearing that?"
His dick is half hard, which means that it is barely manageable. I run my tongue over every inch. This is the first time I get to suck him where I'm in control of the blowjob.
"Because I don't want to look at it's face. It really is an inferior nothing. It craves to be treated like nothing. And that's how it is treated. It knows the rules. And one rule is drinking my piss."
I feel his hand hold the back of my head. His piss fills my mouth. I try to keep up the pace.
"It loves to drink right from the tap. It is a thirsty nothing."
The initial torrent has subsided. I continue to swallow at a manageable pace.
"It can't get enough of me. Last time I was here I took a shit. It begged me not to flush it."
"Gross."
"I know. Right? It is a sick fucker."
I am hit on the head. I pull off his drained cock. He takes the time to smack me across the face.
"I deserve that, as I am an inferior nothing."
"See what I mean?" The other guy snickers. "Get up and bring me my gym shorts over there."
I stand. With the hood on, it is difficult to look around. I see clothing, but cannot make out what is what.
"What's that around his waist?" the guy asks.
Upon closer inspection I can tell whose pile of clothing belongs to whom.
"Its cunt was way too tight. I have to stretch it a little, in order to make fucking it pleasurable for me and painful for it."
I hand him his gym shorts. He reaches into the pocket, and I can hear the clanking of keys.
"Move closer. And hold the dildo in place. I don't want it falling out on its own."
He starts to unlock the locks at my waist as I firmly press the dildo at my hole. I feel the straps fall from my sides and between my legs.
"Now watch what it does to anything that comes out of it's cunt." He speaks to me, "Turn around and show us what you will do with that dildo."
As I begin to rotate, the dildo starts falling out on its own. The other guy emits a gasp. Pulling it out, I know exactly what is expected of me--to clean it orally. I hope there is no shit on it. I cannot tell due to the hood obscuring any clear viewing.
Putting it in my mouth, mostly I taste the dildo's plastic. But with an occasional lick, there is a bitter slimy taste.
The other guy is repulsed. For a brief moment, I am pleased that I am pissing him off. With the hood on, they can't see my my reaction to his repulsion.
"That's enough. Go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. And while you are in there, flush my shit down. It's disgusting that you wanted to keep it to take selfies with." His tone changes when addressing the other guy. "He sent me a selfie of him and his toilet bowl. I'd show it to you, but I don't want to make you vomit."
I walk into the bathroom, along the way tiny farts escape my hole eliciting laughs from the two.
The first thing I do is hook the toilet chain back up and flush his turds away. After taking off the hood, I climb into the shower. Douching is easy, as I did try to eat more liquids than solids as instructed, and after about ten or fifteen minutes I am clean inside and out. After a towel off, I put the hood back on.
My Superior stands towering by my dresser, while the other guy is sitting on the edge of my bed. The other guy gets up, "Well he's done showering. Can I take a shower here? I need to clean my ass up."
"Fuck no."
The other guy interrupts, "I am not going to work with lube and cum dribbling down my legs."
"No one is suggesting that. No, it will lick you clean, and it will consume my cum."
"Wha? Um, I don't think so."
"I don't care what you think. Inferior nothing, go out and get under the rim seat."
I move quickly and am on the bench with my head and arms in position. The lid top needs to be brought down, as I cannot bring it down and have my hands in place.
"Oh my god. I have never seen one like this before."
My Superior secures the lid in place. "Have a seat."
The other guy moves into position. He sits. His ass is nowhere near as large. "What do I do?"
"Nothing. It should be licking you clean." I take my cue to start to clean up the mess, and it is a mess. It is mostly lube, just like when I cleaned off the dick.
"Do I push out your jizz?"
"Look, your ass is full of my cum. It needs to be in its belly. How else do you plan on getting it in there?"
His asshole puckers and flares open. A squirt of cum hits the roof of my open mouth. Instinctively I moan. It definitely tastes like cum, but there's another taste on top of it, a burning bitter taste, probably from the lube. Not much time is spent on it since it easily slides down my throat.
I lick and consume most of the lube-based slime from around his hole. He only has a few more squirts. Just as I start to enjoy eating his ass, he says to my Superior, "That didn't take you long to get dressed."
"You clean?"
"I think so. Your boy did a great job."
"It ain't my boy. And it better have done a great job. Get up."
His ass rises. My eyes, which were closed due to the hood being smashed on my face by his ass. The two of them look down at me.
"Get dressed." He then addressed me. "And you get up."
The lid rises, freeing my arms and head. Sitting up after a few seconds, I can see him already dressed in his business suit. The other guy speedily puts on his gym clothing.
I am slapped across the face.
"I deserve that, as I am an inferior nothing."
"Now, I am running out of gym clothes. I want two shirts, two pairs of shorts, two jocks, and two pairs of socks washed and ready for me for my next visit. They are to be washed by hand after first sucking out any stain--piss or otherwise. They are to be clean without a single fragrance. I want them wrinkle free and perfectly folded ready for me on the couch where I place my garment bag. At no time will you ever wash them with any article of clothing of yours. I do not want them tainted. Do you understand that?"
The other guy speaks first, "Damn, that's a lot of..." He is cut off, silenced by a masterful snap.
"Don't you ever interrupt me when I am instructing my property."
There is an awkward silence.
I break it. "I understand My Lord."
"Good." After a few second pause, he addresses the other guy. "Get the fuck out of here. I will contact you if and when I want."
The sound of the front door closing breaks the tension.
Another slap across the face catches me off guard. It is the hardest one he has ever delivered.
"I deserve that as I am an inferior nothing."
"That you fucking are."
I see him collect his bags. He reaches for the door knob, but stops. There's a five second pause.
"You know?" His tone has changed--calmer and more casual. "I haven't beaten you yet." He looks at his watch, and then surveys my apartment. "Take off your hood and lean over the couch."
Slowly I pull off the hood. I have been flogged at a kink party in the City a few years ago. I also played with a Canadian master who showed me the end of the single tail. The difference between then and now is that those two situations were very controlled with safe words and both had a level of eroticism. I don't feel that this is going to be sexually stimulating.
I lean over the back of my couch. I face a floor length mirror on the wall six feet in front of me. In the reflection, I watch him move about my place. Curiously, he goes behind my television set and looks as if to unplug it.
"If I had thought about it ahead of time I would have brought something."
He stands. In his hand is the coaxial cable that connected the cable box to the wall. Approaching me, he folds the cable in half, palming the metal ends in his palm. It forms a loop.
"This will have to do." Standing behind me, we look at each other in the mirror. "You have only one instruction: suffer. I want to see your face at all time showing me your suffering in that mirror."
He doesn't provide any other instructions, just raises his arm up and brings it down full force on my right ass cheek. I scream out. The flogger and the single tail master started easy and then gradually ramped up the pain. Not here. Not now. That coaxial cable stings more than the ten times what I encountered with the other two tops. Also, back then, I had to count, like I have seen done in porn. So I begin. "One, My Lord."
"Don't." He quickly brings down the cable. The pain is instantaneous. "Count." Again he strikes with full force.
"I." Without breaking stride, another strike lands, but this time is on the other cheek. The pain begins on the left side. I scream. "Will." He lands a full forced swing to my left cheek. "Stop." Another lands back on my right cheek. "When." Another swat is followed by "I." The next one lands across the two cheeks. "Decide." In rapid succession, several strikes land on my cheeks. He is not breaking his rhythm, and he hasn't removed his very expensive suit coat.
He stops to rub his hand over my ass. I can feel its warmth. He feels it too, exuding a look of blissful satisfaction. Returning my gaze, he steps back so I can see him in his suit. Unzipping his trousers, he hauls out his cock. It is almost rock hard. It's surprising that he's so hard considering that he fucked the other guy earlier.
He shoves one of his gym shorts in my mouth before returning to whaling on my ass, swatting with his right hand and jerking off with the left--both without interruption. With my mouth gagged, it gives him the opportunity to heighten the intensity of the beatings, while I start to tear.
The next swat crosses both cheeks, and it hurt twice as hard. With the next two strikes, he increases the strength. I arch my back and try to stand.
"Don't you fucking dare. Get back down!" He changes his target to may back, unrelenting and just as intense. With about a half of dozen of swats, I collapse on the couch.
Immediately I unleash my tears. Our eyes catch in the mirror. Once he sees my tears pouring out, he throws the coaxial cable on couch next to me.
He strokes his solid dick--leaking so much pre-cum like I haven't seen before.
"Reach behind you and pull apart your cheeks. Show me your cunt."
With my arms moving from dangling over the couch to behind me, I can feel the pain across my back. Slowly I move my arms down.
"Keep going." He leaves me briefly, going into my bathroom.
I really can't hold up my head. Still, my hands reach each cheek. The heat from my ass and the welts surprise me. A gentle brushing of my fingertips sends shooting pain throughout my abused ass. There is no way I will be able to sit down for at least a week. I know I will be calling in sick this afternoon.
"Good, you are in position. Keep those cheeks apart."
I have no idea what to expect. A very brief moment of nothing ends with the stabbing pain from one hundred points on my cunt and surrounding area. It is way more localized and more intense than the coaxial beating. My muffled shout into his gym shorts is met with another delivery of the hundred points of pain.
Looking up, I can see him raise his arm, but not as high as the swats before. But in his hand is my toilet brush. It comes down a third time, and I scream out loud.
"Shut the fuck up. You are a toilet. and this is a toilet brush."
Raising his leg, he plants his shoe on my head--pushing it into the couch cushion. I cannot see anything.
"And toilet brushes are meant for cleaning toilets."
He takes the brush and firmly swats my cunt, its lips feeling each bristle like it's a tiny needle. This time it doesn't withdraw. Instead he runs it up and down my crack. It only takes a few up and down strokes to make it feels like a hundred razor blades slicing me up.
Stopping the abuse and removing his foot from my head, he repositions me so that my knees and thighs are closer together with my cunt up higher. He stoops down to examine his work.
"You sure look tore up."
He blows on it. That feels so good. The cool breeze make me tingle. The area is more sensitive now.
He applies an ointment to my hole. That feels even better. He's right, my cunt is tore up, and the way he is swabbing that ointment on is making me calm down and relax.
I feel fabric from his suit against the back of my thighs as he swabs more on to my hole. His hands firmly hold my shoulders in place. Wait. That isn't ointment; that's his pre-cum. And the swab is his cock which is now pushing into my cunt. I cannot move to get away.
I scream out, as the abused points from the toilet brush now have to contend with a savage fucking. His massive cock is buried deep. After a few thrusts, he admits, "Your cunt has opened up good. It no longer feels like it wants to strangle my dick. I want you to continue to use that dildo harness every night."
Barely registering what he is saying, I start to zone out. The pain is too intense for me, as I feel like I'm being tore apart. About five minute pass before he picks up in his strokes; he's cumming. I cannot wait for him to finish.
As he does, he smacks me. I just don't have the energy to respond; so I just grunt into my gag.
Pulling out, he stands behind me. Grabbing me by the hair, he spins me around so I am kneeling on the floor. Upon yanking out his gym shorts, only to replace it with his cock. I suck the best I can. I just don't have the effort nor the energy to do it. If he were to let go of my hair, I probably would fall to the floor.
I suck the best I can, but I know that it is pathetic. Luckily it deflates rather quickly. Pulling out, he throws my head back; I fall backwards into the couch. My abused ass sits on the floor.
He tucks his cock away. "You do not have to cum for me today. Call in sick. You need to rest." He crosses his arms in a very dominant stance. He barks the command, "PRAISE ME!"
I look at him shocked. He smiles back.
"I need to hear some appreciation for everything I did to you today."
How do I do that in the condition that I am? I lean forward. Gravity takes over, and I fall to the floor a few inches from his shoes.
"You are my God. I deserve everything you give as I am an inferior nothing." I move my head a few feet to kiss his left shoe. I can't think of anything to add.
"Aww, you just made all the angels in heaven vomit with that attempt."
He releases a torrent of piss on my back. It sting in a completely different way, like my skin is being burned apart. It isn't a huge amount of piss, but enough to cover my back and ass welts.
He zips up and leaves, leaving me on the floor covered in his welts, covered in his piss, and his cum starting to dribble out of his cunt.
Comments or Questions:
haverimseat4you@gmail.com I have written a novel just as twisted: http://www.sgttate.com