After David finishes fucking me we both relax in his king size bed. Both naked, me in his arms. Both kissing and caressing each other. Me, panting and gasping, being finger fucked again while I admire, lick and suck on his huge circumcised cock. He tells me to masturbate and I do, furiously wanking my uncut prick. Loving it, but at the same time feeling humiliated at having to do it to order in front of him. It's my initiation into obedience.
Naively I think this is the beginning of a lasting romance. We meet every night and weekend for nearly a month. He takes to the theatre and to a concert. Mostly we meet at the pub, have a few drinks and then repeat all we did on our first afternoon together. It's all fine by me. At his flat he strips me naked and we kiss and cuddle on the sofa - me naked and him dressed. Strangely enough this is going to remain with me ever afterwards as a masturbating fantasy scenario with strength enough to make me ejaculate. Naked, I kneel subserviently between his legs sucking his huge prick and swallowing his pre-cum. He then strips off and, both naked in his bed, this big guy slowly fucks me rigid. I cum thinking of myself as his wife as much as his bumboy.
It's all wonderful until in bed he starts whispering to me about the other boys he's had. It turns him on. He wants me to know. So when we meet them in the pub he can take great delight in introducing me to them as his new bumboy. He loves the fact it embarrasses me. It of course it does. I blush and lower my eyes to avoid seeing their grinning faces. But I'm also proud to be proclaimed as his possession. Being described as his bumboy is, for me, a turn on. I wonder if it's a hint he wants to move on to a new boyfriend. It isn't actually said. Instead, at the end of our first four weeks together, he informs me he's going to New York on business.
"It'll give you a break. Chance to explore new things", he said.
"What am I going to do without you David?" I moan.
"If you're worried about being on your own, don't be. I'm going to introduce you to someone. You'll get on very well. I think he's what you need."
We met this person I need on the Sunday lunchtime before he's due to leave. It's at the pub. Me hoping we'll be going back to his flat. We're standing at the bar drinking our gin and tonics when another guy in jeans and a black leather jacket comes over and greets David. He's older than David, probably in his mid 30's, not quite so tall, handsome in a more rugged way, sturdily built and with piercing blue eyes. He's drinking a pint of beer.
"How are you Dave? This him?" His eyes are on me.
"Hi. Yes, this is him. My bumboy."
"I'm Mark. Old friend of Dave's. How are you." He sticks out a large hand towards me and we shake. A vicelike grip.
"Yeah okay... I'm okay. My name's Ian."
"Yeah, Dave mentioned. New to London. Need looking after. Bringing out a bit. Learn a few new tricks." He laughs pleasantly.
Not sure what he means, I smile. He doesn't sound or look as refined as David, but I have to admit I find his voice and general appearance much sexier. His leg presses against mine. My prick twitches.
David said, "You're right Mark. I've a feeling he needs someone like you. Will you both excuse me, packing you know?"
David gives me a peck on my lips and before I can say anything he's gone. I move to follow him, but Mark pulls me back and turns me round to face him.
"He's gone boy. Didn't he tell you he was handing you over to me?"
"But... no he didn't." I'm feeling angry, disappointed and most of all amazed. How can he do such a thing? I feel tears in my eyes. Mark notices, takes me in his arms and hugs me. It's what I need, but after moment I pull away.
"Why though. I thought he liked me." I must sound like a kid.
"Don't worry kid. Piss elegant bastard. He did like you. But that's Dave, isn't it? You were what he'd describe as the bee's knees while it lasted. Then he's away. You're my fuck boy now Ian. So accept it and just do as your told. Okay?"
"But..."
"No buts boy. You belong to me now. Dave told me all about you needing developing in a certain way. I'm what you need. I'm offering you the training Dave could never give you. You're a natural submissive, a bottom. Aren't you?"
Mark's boot presses down on one of my shoe.
"You do need training, don't you boy?" My foot's beginning to hurt. His boot presses harder. "Come on, tell me Ian, say yes boy."
I realise in a vague sort of way what Mark is saying is correct. I am naturally obedient. Completely passive. Always submissive. I was David's bumboy, now ex bumboy. Also I'm becoming hot and excited, getting a hard on just because this big guy is standing on my foot. To confirm things for himself Mark grasps my hard cock through the denim of my jeans and holds it.
"Yes, yes. I'm sorry yes." He eases his grip on my tool, the pressure on my toes and grins in my face.
"Good boy. Turn around and let me feel your arse".
I turn instantly for his inspection. His hands roam over my backside, pressing and kneading and finally slapping each cheek before swinging me round to face him again. Other guys are watching. Laughing at me. I lower my eyes, face red.
"We'll have to get you some tighter jeans boy, more suited to your position in life boy. More suited to your training."
"What? I still don't really understand. About the training I mean. What sort of training?"
"Don't you want to be a slave Ian?" Mark asks.
A slave! I'm shocked. I've never thought in such terms. A bumboy or a sub I more or less understand. I know I want to be fucked. To get down on my knees and give blow jobs. Perhaps being a slave is just another name for the same thing.
"Is it different from being a bumboy?" I ask innocently.
Mark grins, much amused. "Very. First, you have to obey any order you're given. Second, if you don't, you get punished. Third and most important, you are the property of your Master. He owns you. Still want to be trained as a slave?"
Mark calls to the barman and orders two pints of bitter. He's so different to David. Just as bossy though. Which I like of course. But am I going to be his slave?
"Will I be your slave boy Mark?"
"Why? Do you want selling already? Course you will. And, first lesson boy, I'm sir, not Mark. Understood?"
He hands me a pint glass of bitter and waits for my answer. This is it, decision time. Obeying orders from David has been the biggest turn on in my life. Getting punished sounds interesting. A new form of humiliation. The exciting thought of being owned by another man, my Master, sounds so fantastic I can already feel the pre-cum leaking from my hard prick. I take a big breath.
"Yes Sir. Please Sir I want you to train me as your slave Sir." The words tumble out.
"Right. Now you're committed boy." He clinks his glass with mine. "Cheers. Let's drink to you becoming my slave. From now on you obey me and do anything I say. You do understand that I hope?"
"Yes sir. Absolutely." I take several gulps of beer. Mark knocks back what's left in his pint mug.
"Okay. Let's test you. I want you to go to the toilet boy, remove your underpants and bring them back to me."
This is totally unexpected. I hesitate for only a second before turning and going to the "gents". Two guys are pissing, but the WC is free. I go inside, struggle getting my shoes and jeans off, remove my briefs and hold them in my teeth. Another struggle pulling my jeans back on over my rock hard cock and then I slip on my shoes. Balling my briefs tightly in one hand I hurry back to my new Master. Being as discreet as possible I slip them into his hand. He opens them up for anyone to see, sniffs them, grins and put them in his jacket pocket. More smiles from the guys around us. I feel mortified.
"Nice, clean on today. Second rule boy. From now on you don't wear underclothes. Unbutton your shirt. All the way down."
Fumbling with the buttons I manage to undo them. Mark opens up my shirt and pushes it off my shoulders. We're being observed. Thank goodness I have a half-decent body, even if I am slim. Mark runs his hand over my hairless chest, takes hold of my two nipples and begins to roll them between his fingers and thumbs. He watches my face as he gradually increases the pressure. When my face contorts in pain, he squeezes and twists even harder. I whimper aloud and tears come into my eyes. He stops and drops his hands.
"Good boy. Your tits are going to need a lot of work. Drink up. I've had enough of this poncey place, I'll take you to a decent bar next time."
I swallow the rest of my beer. He steers me out through the crowd as I pull my shirt back into place. Outside he hails a passing cab, pushes me in, gives the driver an address, sits down next to me and places a hand firmly on the inside of my thigh. To me it says you belong to me boy! The traffic's busy.
"You're my slave boy now Ian", Mark speaks in a low voice into my ear. "Wherever we go from now on everyone will know it. They'll know I fuck you like a girl. Make you suck my cock. Lick my arse. And you're going to love it, aren't you? Nod your head if you agree."
Staring straight ahead, I nod quickly. Hearing him say all this stiffens my prick and without briefs to restrain it, I can feel it sticking up in my jeans as hard as a rock.
"Yeah, you will. And I'm going to love using you. Filling your mouth and your arse with my spunk. You'll be my little whore slave, won't you?"
I nod without being told. David never spoke like this, never aroused me in this fashion simply with words.
"And you'll do exactly as you're told boy. If you don't, I'll take your pants down and spank your little bubble butt till it's red and on fire."
"I will do as I'm told... Sir. I promise Sir." I close my eyes. The idea of having my pants taken down and being spanked is stoking up my desires. At that moment the taxi stops.
"You will boy. I promise you. Now get out, go up the steps and wait at the door."
It was a block of Victorian red brick mansion apartments. Mark unlocks the door, follows me inside, ushers me into a lift and pushes the button for the top floor. Immediately he places one hand on my crotch and the fingers of the other hand probe into the crack of my denim covered arse, pressing very hard. I gasp and wriggle. He kisses me on the mouth, filling my mouth with his tongue. I respond with passion, my arms up around his solid shoulders squeezing myself to him.
The door of Mark's flat faces us as we emerge from the lift. It appears to be the only one on the top floor. He unlocks the flat door and I follow him in.
"Stand over there facing the wall". Mark points to a corner of the large entrance lobby.
I obey his instruction. I hear him go off and I look around, inspecting my surroundings. Except for an empty coat and hat stand with a mirror, a chair and a Turkish rug on the tiled floor, the lobby is unexceptional. To the side where he had gone I glimpse a corridor which I assume might lead bedrooms. A toilet flushes and Mark comes back. He grips my right elbow.
"This way boy."
He pushes me along the opposite corridor. We pass a kitchen on one side, a dining room on the other and come into a very large living room. A little like David's except for a polished wooden floor instead of fitted carpets. A mixture of old and modern furniture, two armchairs on each side of a marble fireplace with a sofa set well back facing it. Lots of mostly modern pictures and framed photographs of naked men in various poses, but not obscene. At the far end of the room a set of patio doors lead onto a garden roof terrace. I'm slightly surprised. It's much more pleasant and comfortable than I'd imagined it might be. Mark places me in the middle of the carpet in front of the fireplace and sits down on the sofa facing me. I notice he's taken off his boots and socks.
"Take off your shoes and socks."
I stoop down, remove my shoes and socks and place them tidily to one side.
"Now your shirt."
A little shy now I unbutton and take off my shirt, fold it and drop it on top of my shoes.
"Now your jeans."
I unfasten the button and zip, let the jeans drop to the carpet, pick them up and place them with my other clothes. I stand completely naked in front of my Master, hands behind my back, my cock rampant. Embarrassed, excited and hoping he'll approve.
"Turn around. Feet apart."
I obey. Now keeping my hands in front of me.
"Bend over. Pull your cheeks apart."
I find pulling my arse cheeks apart on order to allow another person to view my hole is totally humiliating. Precisely because of that it is for me a heart stopping thrill. My Master has a right to see it and knowing he's there looking, causes my dick to jump. I can see a pearl of pre-cum hanging at the tip a few inches from my nose. I can also see my Masters face, watching, his eyes glittering. He keeps me there for a full two minutes.
"Stand up and turn around."
Again I stand in front of him, my feet apart, hands behind my back.
"Play with yourself."
Hesitating, then realising what he means, I start masturbating. Flushing with humiliation, obeying his order.
"Now finger fuck yourself at the same... like you do at home."
I suck on the big finger of my free hand, plug it into my arsehole and push in and out. How had he guessed this was how I pleasured myself every day?
"Be careful, I don't want you cumming yet boy."
Though by now quite desperate for release I slow my pumping action down. He stands up, comes over to me and watches me closely as bent forward I wank myself and finger fuck myself. It's a humiliating position and I relish being observed doing it. He reaches down, gathers the pre-cum from the tip of my penis with the crook of his finger and holds it to my lips. I lick his finger, tasting my own pre-cum and carry on sucking hard on his finger. He reaches down with his other hand, pulls my finger from my hole, replaces it with his finger from my mouth and thrust it in and out. Wow! His much larger finger feels like a donkey's cock. I know I can't hold back much longer. He knows too.
"Go on boy, let it go. But into my hand."
Gasping and panting and sweating and moaning like an animal I shoot into his hand. Yelling out a loud scream of orgasmic triumph. Spurt after spurt after spurt. His cupped hand is full of my semen. I slowly collapse to my knees. With his free hand Mark ruffles my hair like he would a pet dog and pulls my face into his crotch. His solid erection presses into my face through the denim of his jeans and I chew down. Releasing me, he stands back and presents his hand filled with my own cum to my face. I look up at him with wide eyes. He nods. I slurp up my spunk greedily with my tongue. Before I can finish, he takes hold of my hair, pulls my head back and wipes the rest of my cum over my face. I kneel there spent. His slave, degraded and used. Mark walks to a side table, pours himself a whiskey and sits on the sofa looking at me with a soft smile on his lips.
My thanks to all those who kindly responded to Chapter 1