Master Paulus

Master Paulus - Part 2 A Second Chance

By: Christian Xavier Gartrip

(christianxgartrip@gmail.com)

As you now know, my first official weekend serving as a slave to Master Paulus was a disappointment. I had failed to follow his instructions not once, but twice and had been severely and mercilessly punished for the infractions. I had spent the week recovering from the physical wounds (although the welts were still evident) and had thought a lot about whether or not I was truly "slave material." I loved being used by this man. I craved his black cock, his piss, and his cum. I loved it when he fucked me like a whore, and I even enjoyed the occasional spanking. All of this was odd enough for a man who'd spent most of his adult life as a "top," gleefully fucking his way through one nameless ass after another, but it was the degradation that I hated. The enemas and forced bowel movements were humiliating, the public displays of nudity were torturous, the brutal whippings and constant bondage were beyond painful, and the isolation that came with the inevitable failures was extreme. Yet, I was still drawn to him. I was willing to endure all of it just to be "owned" by him. I just didn't know why.

So there I was, already feeling a bit "ripe" from having not showered that morning, speeding toward the interstate in an attempt to make it to the motel by 6pm, the appointed and non-negotiable time of arrival. I pulled up at exactly 5:58, aided by a few well-timed traffic lights, and sat quietly near the motel office waiting for him to appear. At 6:22 he stepped from the office doorway and walked to the car. He was dressed in his standard khakis and dark polo with the motel logo embroidered on the front left pocket. He glared at me and then handed me the key to room 12, but said nothing. He knew that I knew what he expected, words were unimportant.

Nude, I made my way through the oddly crowded parking lot, catching a glimpse of a couple of truckers who seemed to be bargaining for a threesome with Tina, the local Latin whore. Tina waved and the three of them shared a laugh at me before resuming their negotiations. I keyed into room 12 and took my position over the bed in front of the window. I noticed that all of the lights were on this week, which disturbed me, so I hoped that Master would come in soon and close the curtains.

My wish went unfulfilled. Master waited until well after 8pm before finally showing up. By then, it was almost dark, and a small cadre of misfits had spent the past hour-and-a-half enjoying the now weekly show of my ass spread wide for all of the world to see.

He took my keys, as is his custom, and hid them away in his pocket then slapped my ass a few times before heading for the makeshift bar and the waiting bottle of scotch. He leaned against the bureau and sipped from his glass before lighting his cigarette.

"I hope you've thought about things this week. You disappointed me last time, and I won't tolerate much more of your disrespect. You agreed to do whatever I asked, but you seem to be having a hard time keeping your promises. I told you I wouldn't seriously hurt you or put you in danger. Refusing to drink my cum was insulting to me and disrespectful to Tina. She's a nice lady, real clean... one of my favorites. You embarrassed me, and you paid for it. But you know that, and I'm over it now. We're gonna move on, but you'd better not do that to me again, or I'll turn you out so fast, you'd wish you were dead. I mean it. No more foolishness. Now let's get you cleaned out."

He led me to the now infamous maid's closet and repeated the basic ritual of "shit, shower, and shave" that he had reinterpreted for his own benefit, and for mine. I was just as humiliated as I was before, but I endured it, managed to keep my cock fairly flaccid (which he likes), and found myself back in the room within the hour. I had done well: So far, so good.

Master wanted to "wash up" as well, so he led me to the sink outside of his bathroom and had me sit on the floor underneath the counter. Master closed the drapes then stripped off his clothes and stood naked in front of the mirror. His black cock hung in front of me and swung back and forth and he washed his face and neck. When he toweled off, he stepped back a bit and offered me his dick.

"Need to piss, come get it."

I crawled forward and opened my mouth for him. He dropped his cock past my lips and let his urine spew forth into my throat. I had learned that he expects me to swallow every drop, so I did, even though this particular load seemed to have a stronger flavor than I was used to. He sighed heavily as he unloaded, as if he'd been holding it for hours. He pulled his cock from my mouth and shook it free of the last drops of piss, which landed on my chest.

As usual, the air was off (as Master likes it) and the two of us were already sweating from the summer heat. For me, sweat is an aphrodisiac, so the smell of it coming from his flesh was making me very horny. Apparently, it was having the same effect on my Master. He climbed onto the bed and placed himself at the headboard, propped up with a stack of pillows. He spread his legs and rubbed his hardening cock and motioned me to come to him.

I crawled onto the bed and slipped between his legs. I opened my mouth and swallowed his dark black cock. He grew a full hard on quickly. I could feel the heavy veins on his shaft as they pumped huge quantities of blood into his engorged beef. He seemed desperate for a good sucking, and I was more than willing to oblige him. The grey pubic hairs tickled the underside of my nose as I sucked him, but I so happy to have his cock in my mouth again that I ignored the irritant and focused only on pleasing him.

Master relaxed into the pillows and placed his hands on my head as I sucked his gorgeous black dick. Gone was the tense angry man I'd left last weekend. He really had moved on, and now he was letting me have my fun doing what I enjoyed most: sucking hard on his big dick. He had me play with his balls, which I massaged and then licked clean of the fresh sweat that had collected from the heat.

"Now clean my asshole."

He lifted his legs and held them in the air to expose his dark black shithole for my tongue to bathe. I went to work quickly, licking away the foul buildup from the day and polished it clean, as if he'd just stepped from a hot shower.

"That was good. Real good. Now let's get that ass ready for a good hard fucking. God knows I need a good piece of ass."

Master wanted me on my hands and knees in the center of bed this time. He positioned me as he wanted then brought out the Crisco, which he applied sparingly to my asshole. He seemed anxious to get started, and the lack of excess lube was certainly going to generate some additional pain, but I was okay with that as long as he fucked me. I love it when he fucks me.

What I don't love is the paddling that precedes it. Master likes a "pink ass" to fuck, so he always brings out the wooden paddle to warm me up. So after he greased me, he made a special trip to the wall to select his paddle of choice. He gave my bottom 5 quick, but heavy, slaps. As he struck me, my body tensed up as I tried hard to endure those 5 and then the 5 more that followed. The second set was delivered more randomly and with pauses between each blow. Void of a set rhythm, they were even harder to take.

He tossed down the paddle and pushed his index finger into my hole. He worked it around quickly then climbed onto the bed and crouched above me, like a dog mounting his bitch. I felt his fat cock head brush against my asshole, then push its way in past my sphincter and then deeper into my gut. He never waits for me to adjust, so I bit my lip as Master's thick cock stretched my bowels to the limit. I wanted to scream out, but I knew not to.

Now fully impaled on his staff, Master pushes my head into the stack of pillows on the bed and started to bounce his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper into me. His fucking was so intense that my whole body began to inch forward toward the headboard. Within moments he had ridden me all the way to the top of the bed. He leaned forward and braced himself against the wall and used his whole body to pound my slender white ass with his fat black cock. All eight inches of it roared in and out of my ass with piston-like precision. This wasn't a fucking; it was a full-on assault.

My cock started to grow hard despite the pain in my gut. We were both slick with sweat, and I could hardly breathe, but I knew that my cock was coming closer to an unwelcomed orgasm. I prayed for something, anything to keep me from blowing. Fortunately he stopped after slamming into me one last time with such force that his cock almost exploded as it dumped into my bowels. "Aaaah, yeah!" he moaned as he pumped his cum into me. "That's it, take it boy, take it all!"

He collapsed on top me, but still had his dick buried inside. I couldn't breathe, but my cock had avoided an orgasm, which was a nice consolation considering the whipping that surely would have followed.

He climbed off, finally, and aimed his still dripping cock at my face.

"Clean it up," he ordered.

I opened my mouth and sucked away the grease and cum until he felt satisfied, then he held the back of my head and released a second load of piss into me. This unexpected load was smaller, but just as funky as the earlier one. I swallowed it and then watched him walk away to the bathroom.

He spent the next few minutes in the shower while I lay on the bed, holding his cum inside my soar-as-hell ass until he gave me permission to release it somewhere. I knew better than to move.

"Tonight, we're gonna retire early. We've got a big day tomorrow. You need to take a piss?"

I nodded.

Go sit on your toilet and do whatever you need to do. Don't cum, just piss. You can squeeze out my spunk, just keep your hands off your dick."

I made my way to the closet next to the sink to find the bucket he keep there for me to use as a toilet. My cock was soft enough to hang in front of me, so I sat down and tucked my dick into the bucket releasing a nice load of piss followed by my Master's cum dump, complete with a gush of watery backwash from the earlier enema.

It was gross, but Master seemed intent on watching the whole thing, as if he were trying to prevent me from escaping. I sat quietly for a few minutes until my work was done and until he gave me permission to move. He handed me a wad of paper.

"Wipe your ass."

Oh God. Wipe my ass? I'd rather let it drip dry than have him watch me do that, but I took the paper and leaned forward enough to wipe the moisture from my hole. I dropped it into the bucket then repeated the act again at his request. He just stood there, naked and flaccid, watching me clean myself.

"Now go clean your bucket like I taught you a few weeks ago. And hurry, I wanna go to bed."

He didn't offer me any clothing to wear, so I picked up the bucket of waste and made my way to the woods, naked, on the edge of the parking lot. After dumping my slop, I cleaned out the inside of it in the maid's closet, stealing a sip of water from the hose to quench my thirst, and then moved quickly back to room 12. Surprisingly, I accomplished the entire task, butt naked, without any attention from the natives. Of course, I was becoming a regular too, so maybe they just didn't care anymore.

As I was washing out the bucket, I thought about the previous weekend and how he'd forced me to stay there for most of it after I'd "insulted" him. I wondered where I would sleep tonight. Certainly, not in Master's bed. But where?

When I entered the room, I found Master dressed again and sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"Lie on the bed. I need to strap you down."

Huh? Apparently I was sleeping on the bed, but where was he going to be? He stretched me out across the bed, spread eagle, and attached the cuffs to my wrists and then fastened their chains to the bed frame. He left my ankles free, but I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. What about a fire, I thought, but it didn't seem right to mention it. He covered me with an army blanket, but seeing my sweat, thought a sheet might be better.

He never really said anything else. He turned off all of the lights and slipped out of the room, locking the deadbolt behind him. It didn't take long for me to drift off to sleep, extremely happy and satisfied. This time, I did it with his permission.

On Saturday morning I awoke to discover Master's greasy black hand rubbing a fresh scoop of Crisco into my ass and my legs stretched over his shoulders. I've never been a fan of morning sex, so the sudden realization of what was about to happen ticked me off. My only thought was, "geez, I've got to piss." Getting fucked again wasn't really on my agenda.

I struggled briefly before I remembered that he had cuffed me to the bed and that there wasn't really much I could do.

"You best be still and let me get this done... you'll be better off," he whispered as he pushed his fingers further up into my ass in preparation for the hard black cock that I could see pressing against my inner thigh.

When he entered me, he pushed himself straight in and then arched his back sharply to drive it as deep as he could get it. Damn, it hurt so badly. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

"Damn, you're tight. I love a tight fuck in the morning. Oh yeah... feels good. Damn, feels real good." Yeah, well I didn't feel real good. Having a fat dick shoved up your ass just as I'm waking up on a Saturday morning isn't exactly a "feel good" moment for most people.

"Stop squirming. Be still!" He smacked my thigh as he started to pump his cock into my ass, faster and faster. "Get used to it, boy, 'cause I'm gonna get my morning piece of ass whether you like it or not. So stop fightin' it, or I'll make it a lot worse for you."

By now, the pain had subsided a bit, or maybe I was just so numb I couldn't feel it anymore. Either way, I turned my head and tried to close my eyes as he increased his pressure on my hole, which is when I noticed that he had opened the drapes, and that anyone who happened by might be in for a pretty powerful XXX live show.

"Ah yeah, keep it nice and tight for me. Yeah, keep it tight, keep it tight." He lifted my legs off his shoulders and gripped my ankles, spreading my thin white stems out wide for maximum access.

He paused just long enough to push me back into a tight mass. He rose up on the balls of his feet and stretch out across the full length of the bed and then picked up the pace again. He finished me off, almost fully suspended over me, by pumping me full of his cum while doing push-ups at lightning speed on my burning raw asshole.

Just as he was about to blow, he pulled out, through my legs down, and grabbed his big cock, aiming it at my face. "Open up boy, open up!" He shot a big glob of spunk all over my chin and mouth, which I licked up as quickly as I could. This part I actually liked. Master typically shot it inside my gut, but this time he wanted it in my mouth (breakfast?) and I was more than willing to take it from him.

"Yeah, eat that shit, eat it up... AAAhhhh, yeah, oh yeah, eat it all, boy... eat it!"

And I did. As is his custom, he pushed his spitting cock into my mouth as he finished and demanded a heavy tongue bath. The morning fucking of my ass had left his meat covered with a thin coating of the funk from my chute. I cleaned up the filth, which he then washed down with a light load of his own fresh, cum-tinged piss. I swallowed it, appreciating the way it quenched my thirst and washed away the vile taste on my tongue. When he was through, I collapsed back into the pillows and waited for him to start the day with me. What next, I thought. What next?

I looked over toward the open window and felt relief that no one had seen us and figured that the time had to be about 7am, maybe 7:30. It was early, especially for the kind of folks that spent weekends at seedy motel like this one. My cock was extremely hard, and it ached from the piss it was trying to hold back, and the recent fucking didn't help matters much, either. Damn, I really needed some release!

I knew that some type of relief would come soon, because Master isn't the type of man to let a slave soil his sheets and mattress, but I wasn't happy with how he gave it.

"I'm gonna let you take a piss and whatever else you need to do, but you gotta make it quick 'cause we got a lot of work to do." (Work?)

He freed me from the cuffs that held be to the bed, "Follow me."

I climbed off of the bed and followed him to the front door and out onto the sidewalk. I was completely naked, with cock ablaze, and petrified at the thought of someone seeing an older black bear leading me around outside. I didn't see anyone, but I was confused when he proceeded into the parking lot instead of the direction of the maid's closet. "I said follow me!"

We crossed the lot, passed my car, and stepped through a clump of overgrown brush, trees, and bushes and into a small secluded clearing that held some old, unused playground equipment. Needless to say, I was very confused.

Master was wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt and had a black backpack over his shoulder. He tossed it on the wet grass and turned around to take in the sight of me standing there in the morning sun with a full piss-hard.

"I thought you might need some fresh air. You can do what you need to do here without anyone bothering you. Go ahead, we got a lot of work to do." (Again with the "work" thing.)

Well, how exactly was I supposed to get started? I really had to piss, but where? On the seesaw? My confusion frustrated him a little too much. He stormed in my direction, grabbed my erect cock, and pulled me to the center of the clearing. Shit, that really hurt. He got behind me and pulled my arms behind my back and pressed himself against me.

"Piss! ...Now!"

On command I let the piss fly out from my cock in a sharp arc onto the dew-soaked grass. Damn, that felt good. Master just held me as tightly as he could. As my cock lost its morning wood, the flow began to lose its strength, and the last few ounces landed around my uncovered feet. When I finished, he pushed me into a squatting position and walked back to his backpack at the edge of the clearing.

"If you gotta shit, you'd better do it now." Damn't damn't damn't. I'm not a fucking animal for God's sake, and this seemed well beyond the pale. No toilet, no bucket, no hole in the floor... nothing except the grass at my feet and the bright sun on my face. No freakin' way. It would be all over me, and I'd probably get sick in the process. No way.

Wrong answer.

Before the first tear had fallen past my cheek, Master had pushed me face first into the piss-soaked grass and pulled a set of hard metal handcuffs from his pocket. He placed his work boot on the center of my back and cuffed my left wrist. He then pulled from the ground and pushed me toward the old metal monkey bars a few feet away. He pulled my arms above my head and held them over the bar as he cuffed my other wrist, securing me like a prisoner in the yard of a sadistic third world jail. I just wanted to go home.

Seconds later I heard the familiar "whoosh" of belt being torn from the loops of his jeans.

"WHHHACK!"

"WHHHACK!"

"WHHHACK!"

"When I tell you to take a shit, you'd goddamn better do it!"

"WHHHACK!"

"WHHHACK!"

Master ripped at my thighs with every ounce of strength he had. I could feel the welts growing on my legs with every lash. I was in shock, and I was helpless to do anything about it. Why did I let myself get in these situations? Why was he so BRUTAL? And why did I keep coming back for this? I screamed out for him to stop, "Please! Please! No!" This only made matters worse.

"Don't you DARE tell me what to do!

"WHHHACK!"

"DON'T..."

"WHHHACK!"

"YOU..."

"WHHHACK!"

"DARE!!!"

He threw the belt onto the ground at my feet and kicked off his shoes then dropped his pants. He stepped out of his jock strap, picked it up, and shoved it into my mouth. He then retrieved his backpack and pulled out a roll of duct tape and secured the strap in my mouth by taping it in place. My eyes were thick with tears, and I was unable to control them as they poured down my face. He picked up the belt again and went back to work, this time on my ass.

"WHHHACK! WHHHACK! WHHHACK!"

I hated him. I hated every goddamn inch of this cold-hearted sadistic fuck. I told myself that I would get through this and that I would never ever return.

"WHHHACK! WHHHACK! WHHHACK!"

Master got in my face and squeezed my ballsac hard. "Now you do what I told you to do and you do it now or I'll turn every freak in that joint loose on your ass. You got that?"

I nodded.

"Well then do it!"

He picked up his boots and jeans and walked over to the corner of the clearing. I could see him getting dressed out of the corner of my eye. He wasn't really watching me, but I knew that he was aware of my every move, my every twitch.

I closed my eyes and let go of my bowels. The build up of debris, lube, and liquid spewed out like vomit. My stomach ached as if I'd been punched hard in the gut. The tears kept coming and so did everything else.

I could hear my Master laughing at me as he slung the pack onto his back. He stepped carefully around the edge of the clearing and walked up to me one last time.

"You can hang there until I figure out how to clean you up. And you can think about how you got there in the first place." He walked away and disappeared behind the bushes, leaving me all alone in the abandoned playground: naked, soiled, bound, and gagged... and desperate for someone, anyone, to rescue me.

I've learned two very important things when it comes to dealing with my Master. The first is: always do exactly what he says. The second: he will always do exactly what HE says. So when he told me he'd come back eventually, he meant it. I wasn't wearing a watch of course, but, God, I think I hung there for at least two hours.

I stood there, drained of pride and drained of tears, but I really did have the chance to "think about" things. In the back of mind I was thinking about how to get free, find my car keys, and get the hell out of there. I wanted to curl up in my bed, covered by my favorite blanket. I wanted to eat something, anything. I wanted to watch TV, wander through the mall, and dance the night away at the local queer bar. I wanted my life back. Yet through all of this, I couldn't stop thinking about this old muscled black fuck of a Master who whipped my ass when I was bad, pissed down my throat whenever he pleased, and fucked my ass raw whenever he felt like it. I wanted to PLEASE HIM. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted him to look at me and feel pride for making the choice to own me. And yes, in some small way, I wanted to learn to squat in a public park and take a shit in front of the whole world if that's what it took to make him happy. Yes, he was a sick fuck... but maybe, just, maybe, so was I.

These thoughts didn't come to me as freely as I just wrote them. It took a while for me to "get there." But I did "get there," and now I was ready to make amends, if he would just let me.

As the morning passed into early afternoon the summer sun came up then disappeared again behind the clouds. I could have done without the thunder and lightning, but the chilling rainstorm was a welcomed sight. The rain poured down and washed away most of my "mess" and helped quell the stench that had started to take hold. When the rains stopped, Master appeared again in the clearing.

"I think I've made my point. I'm gonna give you the rest of the day to prove yourself. If you can finally learn to follow a simple set of instructions, then maybe Sunday will be more bearable for you. But it ain't gonna be easy."

He reached up and uncuffed me, letting me stand quietly in front of him. I've always imagined him as someone who was once a Sergeant in the Army or Marines. I know that he was in Vietnam, but that's about all I know. Anyway, as I stood there in front of him, dripping wet, naked and still a bit pungent, I imagined myself as one of his new recruits at Paris Island. He certainly had the physique, the presence, and the voice of a Drill Sergeant, and he certainly had the power-thing down pat. It made me feel better, and I realized that the whipping had probably been deserved.

"Put this on, and come with me, you need to get to work."

I looked down to find a pale pink pair of coveralls and a pair of black rubber sandals. It looked like prison garb from the women's division of the local county lock-up. At least it was clothing. He rarely lets me wear anything at all, so the opportunity to be covered was a nice alternative to what I was used to. But what was I to do in the pink get-up?

I followed him to the motel and up the back stairs to a maid's closet on the second floor. I stood by quietly as he loaded a small cart with cleaning supplies.

"One of my housekeepers is out sick this weekend, so we gotta pick up the slack. Iris already changed all the sheets and towels, and Renee is gonna vacuum later today and put in fresh towels. I need somebody to clean out the johns in all of the second floor rooms. That'll be you."

"There's 14 rooms on this side, 14 on the other, 6 across the back, and 4 up front. You clean the toilets and the showers, mop the floor, and wipe down the sinks. The girls will take care of everything else. Some of the rooms are vacant, a few got tenants in 'em. Same treatment either way. I like a clean toilet, so do it right. I'll check on you every so often, so don't mess around. I'm guessing that you're probably hungry. Here's a roll of quarters. You can eat out of the vending machine if you need to. I don't feed slaves. One more thing: you let anybody touch you, and I'll beat your ass raw out there in the parking lot. And don't think I'm kiddin'." (I knew he wasn't.)

I would love to report all of the deviant sexual behaviors I witnessed as I scrubbed my way through the motel's second floor bathrooms, but I didn't actually witness any. I did find a few whores still passed out in their beds after a night of rough play. I walked in on a couple of junkies, who didn't seem to notice me at all. And of course I lost count of the number of illegal aliens (mostly young Mexican and African males) I found holed up together in single rooms for the duration of the summer. But the one thing I kept noticing as the day progressed was the shear lack of interest any of them had in me. Certainly some of them had seen me around the place being paraded up and down the sidewalk, having my ass on display in the open window, or being whipped by the old black man who managed the place. If so, they didn't acknowledge me as "that guy." They just wanted the dried piss wiped off their toilets, and I was the one who'd been sent to do it. All in all, it wasn't that eventful.

But it was awful. I mean, by then I had come to think of myself as a sex slave. Not a very good one, mind you, but a sex slave nonetheless. I had also come to think of myself as a budding masochist and as someone who seemed to crave humiliation while also hating it and fearing it. It was all very new and very confusing. So cleaning toilets all day really didn't "fit" the whole scene I'd created for myself, and I certainly didn't value the thought of being used as free labor every Saturday afternoon. No fun in that.

When I finished "toilet duty," I didn't really know what to do next. I had no idea what time it was (4 o'clock maybe), but I knew that the day was winding down. So I played it safe and returned to the room only to find it locked. The only thing I could do was wait, which I did by curling up against the wall next to the door of room 12. Master came by a few minutes later.

"Git up."

I followed him into the trusty maid's closet (the prison, as I'd come to call it) at the end of the sidewalk. He ordered me to strip off my pink coveralls and get on my knees. I did what he asked, which earned me a fresh load of piss shot straight from his cock to the back of my throat from a distance of about two feet. I expected a bath, because if anyone ever really smelled like a "pig in shit," it was I. Instead, I was told to stretch out on the old mattress that had been leaning against the wall.

"You're gonna need a nap. I'll be back to clean you up when I'm ready for you." He picked up my coveralls, left me in the dark, and padlocked the door behind him. I didn't need any encouragement to sleep. I was exhausted.

When he returned he stood in the doorway and watched me clean up, inside and out. He seemed only moderately interested as he stared out into the darkness while smoking his long brown cigarettes. When I was done he inspected my work by shoving his wet index finger up my ass, then lightly sniffing it as if he were preparing dinner. He tossed me a pair of boy's white underpants (size 18-20) and a white t-shirt (boys XL), which had been cut to cover only the top half of my chest. At least it was something... odd, but something.

When we returned to the room, I noticed that Master had place an old wooden captain's chair in the middle of the large metal tub he kept in the corner of the room next to the closet that I sometimes used as my toilet. The tub had been sitting there quietly for weeks and we'd never used it, so I wondered why it was suddenly playing a more active role in the décor.

"Go stand in front of that chair, bend over and grab the arms." I felt as if I was being positioned for a spanking, but I did it for fear of what he would do if I didn't.

He came up behind me and jerked my tight white underpants down to my knees. He smacked my bottom lightly then inserted a small greasy butt plug into my rectum. It hurt, but not enough to cause me to do anything but wince. When he was done, he had me sit in the chair and place my wrists on the arms of the chair. Doing so pushed the plug further inside of me, making me feel as if I needed to drop a bit load. The underpants were still on and were now stretched across my knees. I really did look like I was sitting on a john. He then used a set of cuffs on each wrist to secure them to the chair, and he used ankle straps to secure my legs to the chair's legs as well. I had no idea what he was up to.

Once I was secure, he pulled the front of my 1/2 t-shirt over my head and let it stretch across the back of my neck, like a kid sometimes does when playing basketball on the playground. He then retired to his bathroom.

For the next 15 minutes I sat buckled into my chair watching him sitting on the toilet on the other side of the room. He read a magazine and seemed oddly relaxed, as he usually does, while taking a crap in front of others. I assume (again) that the old military side of his nature gives him the ability to do that without embarrassment... or maybe he does it just to humiliate me. I've never been able to figure that one out. He wiped his ass then took a long hot shower, shaved, and dressed in a nice pair of khakis and a blue oxford shirt. Where was he going?

"I'm going out with a couple of friends. Can I trust you to sit there and keep your mouth shut?" I nodded. "Yeah, well maybe I should gag you just in case." He duct taped my mouth "just in case."

"If you need to take a piss, you're free to do so, just keep it off the carpet. I'll be back later."

I sat quietly in the room, strapped in the chair with my mouth taped shut, for almost an hour before I finally chose to piss my seat. The hot urine spilled out of my cock and filled the seat of the chair and then dripped slowly into the tub below. After a while, the smell made its way into my nostrils, making me both dizzy and very horny. Piss had never really made my hot before, but after a few weekends here in the motel, my tastes had apparently changed somewhat. I got a raging hard on from it, and it took a while for me to get rid of it, but it was still semi-hard when he returned.

When Master came through the door (over 2 hours later), he was not alone. Trailing behind him were two people, two white people. One was male, and the other appeared to be his wife. So here we go, I thought. Here we go.

The couple was the middle-aged, country club type, who (I assumed) likes to play in the underworld on occasion. We never actually had a conversation, but I observed and heard enough to get a pretty clear picture. They seemed weirdly comfortable in this fleabag motel, considering their polished, waspy appearance. The woman came in first and reeked of both soccer mom and Junior League with a bit of Tiffany thrown in for effect. She was blonde, about 45, and very flirtatious in her black dress and pearls. The husband was equally well bred and probably in his early 50's. His dark auburn hair was cut short, like a banker or an attorney, and his clothing was simple (khakis, white shirt, loafers), but they were of the highest quality... and heavily starched. Both were well tanned and were clearly regulars at the local gym.

Aside from their appearance, what struck me were both their familiarity with the environment and their friendship with Master. All three were tipsy, and Master kept the drinks flowing as soon as they came in. Neither the husband or his wife approached me, but I could tell that they were curious as why a grown white man was chained to a chair in the corner. They just weren't curious enough to actually mention it.

The husband, Andy, sat quietly next to his wife, sipping his scotch, as she chatted endlessly with Master (sitting on the arm of the couch) about their recent vacation to St Bart's. As the night wore on, she flirted openly with him, rubbing his knee and thigh while he tugged at her blonde hair and caressed her shoulders. Andy seemed not to mind, and I found that he would stare off at me when the others were busy in conversation. After a few drinks, wifey (Molly) turned suddenly and shocked me with her proclamation to her husband.

"Andy, why don't you get up and take off all your clothes. And I'd like you to get on your knees too." Wow. That was bold. Andy grinned sheepishly and did as his wife commanded, dropping to his knees when he completely naked. He had a great body for a middle-aged yuppy, a long skinny pink cock, and the brightest red pubic hair I'd ever seen.

"Mommy's going to have a little fun, so you've got to be a good boy while Mommy plays with her friend Paulus. Do you promise to be a really good boy for Mommy?"

"Yes Mommy, I'll try."

"Paulus, what do you say? You think he can be a good boy?"

I dunno Moll, we might wanna secure him. I wouldn't want him to play with himself and get the carpets all sticky like he did last time."

Molly stood up and walked around her kneeling husband. "Oh that's right. What a mess you made of things. Paulus, hand me those leather cuffs and we'll take care of that right now."

Paulus tossed her the leather cuffs from the wall and secured Andy's hands behind his back. He never protested. Clearly, he wanted this as much as she did.

Master wasted no time in taking advantage of Molly. He stood behind her and unzipped her black dress letting it fall to the ground at Andy's knees. Molly was wearing the sluttiest underwear I'd scene in a while, the kind that would make any corner whore blush. Her black strapless bra was cut below her nipples, and her matching panties were crotchless, framing her shaved slit. She also wore a full garter belt, which held her black silk stockings firmly in place. Master wrapped his hands around her chest and gently squeezed her nipples, which made Molly squeal like a piece of street trash. She kept her heels on and placed one of her feet on her husband's shoulder as Master massaged her tits with one hand and rubbed her clit with the other.

"Sniff Mommy's cunt, honey. Mommy's little cunt is so hot... so hot." Andy leaned in and took a deep breath of his wife's shaved crotch. His cock bounced up and down, and she giggled at the sight of her subservient husband sniffing the air between her legs. "That's a good boy... such a good boy. Now you sit still while Mommy sucks on a big black penis. You know how much Mommy loves to suck a really big penis, don't you?"

Andy nodded and watched wide-eyed as Master slowly stripped out of his clothes and tossed each piece on the couch. When he finally pulled off his jock to reveal his large dark dick, I noticed how really powerful he was. At 6 feet and two hundred pounds, he had a presence that really made Andy look like a silly little wimp. I was so proud of how he looked: this aging, muscled, and slightly overweight black man. The pampered white twit on the carpet had nothing on my blue-collar ebony Master.

"Suck on this Molly." Master grabbed his cock and Molly smiled broadly as she lowered her thin frame to lick on the massive black stick he held in his hand. She was very hungry for his dick, and she had the whole thing deep down her throat in just a second or two. Master kept his gaze focused on the redheaded wimp. He grinned at Andy as if he'd just taken his milk money. Andy seemed mesmerized by what was taking place in front of him, offering neither protest nor encouragement. I was actually turned on by the whole scene; my cock was standing straight up and dripping precum onto the chair seat.

"You!" Master was talking to Andy, "Git up there on that bed and sit quietly over in the corner. I want you to get a good view of your wife when I give her what you can't: a good hard fuckin'."

"You heard Paulus, now get up there and sit down. Don't make Mommy spank your little bottom. Mommy's gonna get fucked by a REAL man tonight. Maybe you can learn something about how to please a woman." She was scolding him, but she was clearly having fun with it. She loved humiliating her husband, and he seemed to get off on being the cuckold.

"Mommy, I gotta make wee wee."

"Can't you hold it, Andy? Mommy's kinda busy with the big black cock right now."

"I don't think so Mommy."

"Kid's gotta piss. It's ok. You come with me, boy. I'll show you where big boy's make wee wee." Master led the silly man over to me. "It's ok, boy. He's tied up. He likes big boy piss. Watch me."

Master played along with the whole "little boy" fantasy that Andy seemed to have. He aimed his big dick at my torso and dumped a big load of hot piss on my chest and crotch. I loved his piss, but I wasn't real excited about Andy's, who stood on his knees and pissed all over my feet and thighs.

"Good boy. Now get up on that bed and go sit in the corner so I can fuck your Mama. If you stay real quiet, I'll let you suck her cunt when I'm done." Master popped Andy's ass as he stood up and crawled into the corner at the top of the bed. I think he liked it. I think they both did.

Molly sprawled out on the bed on all fours and coaxed Master to eat her pussy. He dived in and tongue fucked her from behind while Molly made goofy faces at her little boy.

"OOOH PAULUS! Oh, that feels so good. OOOOO!!!" She looked at Andy as she shook her small butt around like a common tramp. "Look at Mommy's nipples, Andy. Look how hard they are. You like Mommy's nipples don't you?"

Master climbed on the bed and aimed his cock at Molly's backside. "Spread your legs. Time for you to get some REAL cock." He pushed his fat dick into her little shaved pussy and held onto her hips.

"OOOOH GOD! Yeah, Paulus, shove that BIG BLACK COCK in my cunt. OH GOD OH GOD. I love that COCK! I LOVE IT! Fuck me Paulus Fuck me HARD!"

He did fuck her hard, just as she requested. "Take it bitch, take that thing. White women just love a big black cock Andy... they love it! Damn, bitch, you sure got a hot pussy. I love hot pussy! "Watch Mommy, Andy.... Watch Mommy get her cunt fucked by a REAL MAN... I wish you could fuck me like this. He's got such a hot dick Andy, and it makes Mommy feel so good. I just hate it when you stick that little sorry pecker in my cunt. Your little dick never pleased anyone, did it?" She started to laugh at Andy as Paulus picked up the pace and started to drive his big dick into Molly's groin. The harder he fucked her, the more she laughed and taunted Andy. I actually started to feel sorry for him. His dick wasn't really small. It was longer that mine, but it was really skinny, and although he was tan, his crotch was snow white and his dick had a sickly pink glow to it.

Molly reached over and smacked Andy's hard on, which made him groan loudly. He loved this shit. It was sad. Hot, but sad. "Look at that little dick. Who would want that? Do you see what I have to do to make my cunt feel good? You're worthless, Andy, worthless! OOOH, GOD PAULUS. FUCK ME. FUCK MY TIGHT CUNT. FUCK IT HARD! I NEED YOU TO FUCK ME HARDER... HARDER!"

Master pulled out and flipped Molly on her back, which made her laugh hysterically. He held her feet apart and aimed his black cock at her pussy. He started stabbing his dick into her hole, pausing between each long stroke. Molly screamed and squeezed her little tits as he drove it in and out of her. Andy's eyes were glued on Master's big impressive slab of meat. His thick veiny black dick was in full view now, and Master really loved the attention he was getting from both of them. He smiled for the first time, but he never looked at me, just them.

"Aaah... yeah. Look at that cunt. Damn that's a nasty cunt. Watch this Andy. This is how a real man fucks cunt. You see it? You see this BIG COCK fucking your wife? HUH? Yeah, watch me boy, watch me FUCK THIS NASTY CUNT! AAAAAAHHHHH!"

Master exploded into Molly's pussy and fell hard onto her chest. She screamed out in delight as he pumped her full of cum. "Oh Paulus! God, you make me feel so hot. Damn, I just LOVE that cock! Fill me up Paulus, fill me up!"

They stayed locked together for a few minutes, each drenched in sweat and trying to catch their breath. Master climbed off of Molly and looked at little Andy, still curled up in the corner, looking like a scared child who had just witnessed a rape.

Master reached up and grabbed Andy by the neck and pulled his head into his wife's dripping crotch.

"Clean her up. Lick her cunt and suck out that cum, boy. That's all you're good for anyway. If you can't fuck her right, the least you can do is clean up after me." He kept pushing Andy's face into his wife's pussy. She helped by raising her hips into his face and spreading her legs.

"Lick Mommy's cunt, honey. Be a good boy and lick up the big black man's cum. He was nice enough to fuck Mommy, so make sure you get every drop. Every drop!" From where I sat, I could hear Andy sucking Master's jizz out of his wife's hole. How sick, I thought. This poor man, so fucked up, was eating another man's load out of his own wife's cunt. But then again, I was in no position to judge.

"Now clean off my cock." Master pulled Andy into his groin by his hair and forced his wet dick into the man's mouth. Seeing this silly old fuck suck Master's cock should have made me jealous, but it didn't. I actually thought it was kind of hot. He deserved it. And I, for one, had no interest in tasting Molly's juice all over Master's dick. He could have it.

"Look at you. Sucking on cock like a little faggot. No wonder you don't fuck me like a real man. You're just a little cock lover aren't you Andy? You like that man's cock, Andy? Huh? Answer me! Do you LIKE SUCKING ON THAT COCK?" She was almost screaming at him as he deep throated Master's dick. Andy nodded. Molly just laughed and started smacking Andy's skinny little butt.

"That's NASTY. I can't believe you, Andy! Paulus, hand me one of your belts. This boy needs a whipping!"

"No Mommy PLEASE! Please don't spank me. Please don't!"

"Shut up, boy. If your Mama says you need a whipping, then you're gonna get a whippin'," barked Master, who I know had to be salivating at the thought of tearing up this man's scrawny white ass.

"Please Mommy NO. I'll be good. I promise. PLEASE NO."

"Oh I don't even know why I bother with you Andy. You're pathetic! Paulus, you do it. I don't even want to waste my time on this useless excuse for a man. Whip him good, Paulus. Do it for me."

"Gladly, M'am. Gladly."

Master was an expert at giving whippings to misbehaving submissives. Believe me, I know.

Master snatched up the teary-eyed Andy and pushed him in my direction. He spread the sad looking man with the dripping hard on across the front of the tub I sat in and forced him to bend at the waist with his head just inches away from my own stiff, wet cock. God, I really needed to cum, so I was hoping that Master would make him suck me off.

"You wanna lick that little dick don't you?"

Andy shook his head in disagreement.

"THWACK!" Master let the belt crack loudly against Andy's rump.

"NO NO... PLEASE MOMMY, MAKE HIM STOP MAKE HIM STOP!"

"THWACK THWACK!!"

"You little faggot... you love to suck cock, don't you?"

"NO!"

"THWACK!"

"That's it Paulus, whip my boy's little bottom. He's a bad bad little cocksucker... Whip him really good. Whip him hard!"

"THWACK THWACK! THWACK!"

Master held Andy's cuffed wrists and forced the man's open mouth down onto my cock, which slid quickly to the back of his throat. FINALLY! Andy, to his credit, seemed to know what he was doing. He sucked my dick like a pro and GOD did it feel good! I needed this more than I'd ever needed anything. I knew that it wouldn't take long for me to fill his throat with a heavy load.

"Get me some grease, Molly. Your boy's gonna get a good old fashioned butt fuckin'."

Andy's eyes popped out, clearly distressed and unsure as to whether this was part of the program. His mouth froze around my cock in fear, so I started pumping my hips in hope of re-stimulating his interest.

Molly had no problem with the idea, and a few seconds later she had a can of Crisco in her hands, using it to lube up her husband's sore ass.

"Be still, son. You're a bad bad boy and you're gonna get what you deserve. Mommy's gonna let the big black man put his hard pecker in your ass, and you're gonna like it. SO BE STILL!"

Master shoved his big hard on into Andy's pale butt and unleashed a hip thrashing that sent Andy's head hard into my stomach, but he still managed to keep my cock in his mouth. Master wasn't gentle; he was vicious. He slammed his whole body into Andy's ass as Molly cheered him on from the sidelines, occasionally reaching down and pulling at Andy's poor skinny dick.

I pumped a week's worth of cum into Andy's gut, which he swallowed as if it were his last meal. God, it felt so good to blow that load. Master never lets me cum on my own, so I took full advantage and enjoyed every second of my much-needed orgasm. Master was holding back, clearly having fun with the poor guy's ass. He rode his butt hard before finally filling him from the other end.

Master stepped back when he was done and sat on the edge of the bed, he was dripping with sweat and panting like a marathoner. Andy collapsed on the floor and curled up in the fetal position, bawling like a little baby, cum dripping from every hole.

"Git up here cry baby and suck on your Daddy's dick."

"Andy! You heard the man, get up here and suck on his penis. NOW!"

Andy rose up and buried his face in Master's sweaty crotch and swallowed his dirty cock. I knew that Master couldn't resist the opportunity to piss in the man's mouth, so it didn't surprise me when he held tight onto Andy's neck and let fly a fresh load of piss.

"That's a good boy, drink it up you nasty faggot. Drink my piss."

Andy didn't struggle this time. Maybe he was exhausted; maybe he just liked it. Who knows? But Master emptied his entire bladder and then slapped Andy a few times in the face with his dripping cock. Andy finally seemed satisfied (although still hard as a rock) and Molly seemed thrilled with how their night had played out. What a couple of freaks, I thought. At this point, I just wanted them to leave.

After some clean up, and a few hugs and kisses from Molly, the pair left, leaving me with Master. What time was it? I had no idea, but I was exhausted. Master seemed out of sorts. He clearly had a thing for Molly, so I figured he was feeling pretty generous, having just fucked her, which he was.

He untied me and let me slip away to the maid's closet to wash away all of the dried piss that had built up. My ass was absolutely raw from the butt plug that he had buried inside of me, and I'd almost forgotten about it until I was half way down the sidewalk. I guess that says a lot about how well trained my ass now was. I returned to room 12, butt plug in hand, to find Master preparing the bed for me.

"You did okay tonight. I wasn't embarrassed, so you can sleep without your cuffs. I'll be back in the morning. Don't get out of bed until then. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

He locked his bathroom door and then left the room for the night.

The slight amount of tenderness he showed me that night was not present the next morning when he finally strolled in around noon. He was dressed and remained so the rest of the day. It didn't, however, keep him from pulling me from the bed and dragging me to the closet next to the bathroom. My slop bucket was in place, and I was ordered to squat and do whatever I "had to do." My bladder was desperate for some relief, and my gut was torn up from all of the abuse it had sustained, so without much thought, I released everything I had as Master stood over me, ensuring my compliance. He watched as I wiped away the grime and then inspected me before taking a wet washcloth to my ass for a more thorough clean up. He always did this as if I had no idea how to do it myself. It made me feel like a 4 year old being potty trained by his impatient Daddy. I guess that was the point.

Master spent the next hour on the couch enjoying his coffee and cigarettes while I cleaned the room and washed away the weekend's sex "stains." I hated playing naked housekeeper, but I did it without complaint, which pleased him.

He sent me home before 3pm, so I spent the afternoon soaking my wounds in the tub of my apartment and catching up on my food intake. Damn, was I hungry. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about the weird couple, Molly and Andy, and how on earth these two losers managed to find each other and develop such a bizarre sex life together. I laughed at the irony of that question, and then slept like a baby... all night long.

CXG