Masterman, Part TWO
Bamaboi2serve@charter.net
"Paul's Basic Lessons"
As Paul told me about his first experience with Masterman, I found myself both turned on and shaken by my memories. This was, after all, almost the same scenario I had gone through. I got the impression his experiences had ended more satisfactorily than mine, though I wasn't about to get into that with this relative stranger right now.
I was curious about a canvas travel bag he had carried into my apartment...was I in danger? I doubted it. I could tell we both were bottoms. I knew I had been truly indoctrinated as a bottom slave-boi by my Masterman training, and it seemed Paul had the same experience. Yet here we were in bed together, both sporting wood from all the sex talk. I decided to keep listening and to see what I could do to relieve my horniness later.
He continued his story about being tied up in the I-20 rest-stop bathroom: "The voices of the men in the restroom were mocking me, and despite my fear and my blindfold, my imagination went into overdrive and I visualized the young men all being very hot, all tall, lean and muscular" he told me, continuing the story of his first night in Masterman's possession, blushing a little at the admission that he had been turned on despite the rough treatment...maybe even because of it. He continued:
"Hey fag boi, what's you name? Cocksucker? Bitch-boy?" asked one of them. I couldn't talk of course. The tube end of the funnel was in my throat, scratching the insides of my mouth and allowing me only a croak in response and to breath only thru my nose.
There was an exchange in Spanish, a lot of laughter and jeers, and then it started...first a trickle of liquid deep in my throat, then a torrent.
They were taking me up on my "offer"...the sign Masterman had put above my head offering me up as a personal urinal for all who came by the highway rest stop. They took turns, soaking my throat and spraying the rest of me with their piss. They had obviously been drinking a lot of something, 'cause there was no shortage as they wet me down and humiliated me and my struggles as I guzzled their urine, trying to keep up with the flow.
"Remember that I had just met the Master, so I had not been ordered to shave my body yet," Paul told me, "and the boys seemed to take special pleasure in wetting down my pubes. One of them grabbed at my pit hairs roughly , pulling a few strands out at the roots and getting piss on his hand. He wiped his fingers off on my head, cursing me as if I was at fault! Thru it all I stayed hard, a fact that one of the boys noticed and pointed out to the others."
"This faggot likes us, man, I think he needs some barrio cock, amigos, he's liking this a little too much! Is everyone done pissing?"
They were, and soon the duct tape holding the piss funnel was roughly ripped from my face, the funnel then quickly replaced by a hardening cock.
That first boy was uncut, his cock extraordinarily thick and meaty. It hardened quickly, forming a huge shaft. He used piston like movement with it, in and out, over and over, slapping me aside the head in between plunges with his fleshy saber...his friends followed, none as big as he but none too small either.
The next half hour was a blur as the boys used me and dumped their baby maker sauce deep inside me. The grabbed my hair or ears or collar for leverage. There was plenty of tit abuse too, and my nubs were soon red and tender.
At one point, in between cocks, one of them forced the tip of his boot into my mouth, forcing me to list off the dirt from the filthy restroom floor. When he was satisfied with my work on one boot, he replaced it with the second. Another cock followed, pounding away.
Perhaps most humiliating of all was the fact that throughout the entire ordeal I could hear camera phones taking shots of my debasement. They would pose with their teen cocks deep in my mouth as shots were taken...photographic trophies of their conquest. I heard of one of them talking on the phone, explaining about the photo he was about to send. I could envision the images being traded worldwide online within hours. Damn if that didn't make me even harder!
When they finally finished and left, I was able to rest for the first time in almost an hour. My throat was no longer dry...now it was coated with their cum...and I was still hard!
The door opened again and for a moment I expected to hear from my next abuser, but it was my new master, coming to collect his boy.
I heard him packing his funnel device after rinsing it in a sink, then the ropes came off one at a time, the leash was re-attached and I was dragged, still blindfolded, out to the parking area. I was barely able to keep up with him, and when we arrived at his vehicle he lifted me up suddenly and dumped me like a sack of onions into the back of the pickup. I could feel the truck dip down for a second as his weight depressed the springs, but then silence...no door opening, no engine. I was spread out, arms and legs stretched as if I were tied up, like back in the bathroom.
The force of his piss caught me by surprise as it struck first my face, then worked its way around the rest of my body. I opened my mouth wide, inviting him to feed me, and he did, saving the last of it to join all of the piss and cum I had swallowed in from the teens.
Then he got in, started the engine, yelling back a warning to stay flat on the truck bottom, and roared away from the rest area. The wind cooled the piss on my body, and soon I was chilled, wearing only my very wet rubber chaps and leather collar and his very wet blindfold. I inhaled deeply, still turned on by the experience.
It was still early in the weekend, and I smiled thinking about what was still to come!
Paul pause in his story, grabbing us two beers from the fridge, chugging his and then suddenly started going down on me, proving his worth as a cocksucker, deep-throating me almost in a single thrust. Being a bottom himself, he knew what I would like. Soon his fingers were reaching up to my nipples, pinching and twisting them. This wasn't going to last for very long, I knew, because I was about to shoot...and I told him so. He only moaned around my cock, increasing his speed up and down, working on both tits in tandem.
And then suddenly he stopped completely. I looked up and he was smiling. "I know you wanted to cum then, but wouldn't it be more fun to be denied? To be forced to wait till later?"
Frankly, I had wanted to cum, but the way he presented it, from one bottom to another, as a choice, a tantalizing one, made it seem almost like fun, and so I smiled back and started in on him, trying to show him up...to beat him at his own game. But his cock was much larger than mine, uncut, and it took some real effort to get most of it in my mouth. Deep-throating was out of the question.
Following his lead, I also played with his tits, and spent some time on his pits, remembering his story of the bois in the bathroom...I'm a sucker for pits, especially on a fair-skinned boi with dark hair, which his was, except for the orange around his cock...I could have spent all night licking up the sweat in his pits, but went back to sucking and tweeking his tits, trying to judge how turned on he was and when he might be close to coming.
Fortunately he was a verbal little bottom-boi, moaning and yelping and giving me lots of audible signs about his state of arousal... And just when I could feel his balls start to tighten up like mine do in advance of an eruption, I stopped. Take that, I though, smiling.
He upped the ante next, reaching into that canvas bag he'd carried in from his car. It was filled with toys. He attached tit clamps to me, used clothes-pins on my balls, and then started inserting one end of a thick double-headed dildo into my ass after sucking on it to provide some lube. It was really thick, and I had to work to accept in into my hole.
I'm really flexible...though not enough to suck myself...so I was able to get my mouth down to suck on the other end of the dildo...wetting it for obvious purposes. Paul caught on quickly and positioned his ass facing mine, accepting the other end of the two foot long dildo into his ass more easily than I had taken mine. We pulled toward each other, legs strattling each-other. I reached into his toy-bag and took out another set of tit clamps, releasing one of the clamps on my right tit and then reattaching it to his right tit. The new set connected us left tit to left tit, and we were off, pulling against each other, driving the dildo in and out. I'm not sure if were both taking in the same length of the dildo, but all of the pushing and pulling eventually had us asshole to asshole, the rubber dick completely invisible. Out matching orange pubes would have made it a memorable photo had their been a third person there to take the shots!
We were both moaning and sweating, incredibly turned on by all of the stimuli. Finally we reached for each other's cock and started jerking, continuing till we caused a simultaneous spectacular blast of cum from both cocks, shooting a foot or more up in the air and back down, covering both of us.
After we recovered out breaths: "I'll lick you clean if you lick me," I offered. Out came the dildo and off came the clamps and in 69 like position we both went after the sprayed juice, licking and cleaning, licking and cleaning through our pubes and our sweating skin. Normally after I cum I'm dead sexually, but the dual nature of our tongue-bath routine kept me aroused, and I was sorry when I ran out of cum to lick up.
We slept for a while then, but I was anxious to hear the rest of his story, and to tell him mine! He was going to be amazed to hear how Masterman brought me under his control. As he would find out, there were more than just some teen boys involved!
---To be continued---
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