On Sunday morning, we shower together. My Master dresses in smart casual slacks and tee shirt. Then we have breakfast. He at the table, me naked except for my collar, from a dish on the floor.
"Get your jeans and shirt from the washer-dryer, iron them and get dressed. We've an appointment."
My Master playfully slaps my bare arse and goes off to read the newspapers. I rub my backside. It's still sore and bright red from my various beatings of the night before. Even so, I rejoice in the feeling of being a punished slave boy. Dressed in my black leather slave collar, half shirt and torn jeans with a red cheek bottom on show and my long blond curls combed, I go to the living room. No order or sign from my Master, so I stand and wait. He folds the newspaper.
"Turn round boy."
I do as I'm told.
"Think you need some new jeans boy. Let's go."
In the lift he takes me in his arms and kisses me passionately. I respond, sucking his tongue as I had his prick the night before. In the car, he says nothing about where we are going. He turns into a street of elegant white painted premises somewhere in Holland Park and stops outside a row of upmarket shops. I follow him into a shop with the words "Gentlemen's Outfitters" in gold on the window. It looks and smells very expensive. Racks of design label casual ware, black leather, denim and a glass topped counter displaying an array of S&M leather and metal restraint items.
Leaning against the front of the counter is a tall, good looking, well built, and smiling black guy wearing black jeans and a scarlet tank-top. I'm impressed, especially by the size of the bulge running down the left leg of his jeans. My Master obviously knows him.
"Hi, Jason. How are you?"
"Better for seeing you Mark. Who is this pretty little thing?"
Jason ruffles my hair, takes hold of my collar and lifts my head up so he can see my face.
"My, my, such blue, blue eyes. He's a wetdream come true man. Is this your new slave."
"Still in training. Show him your arse boy."
Blushing crimson, I turn around.
"Wow! That's something. Best bubble-butt I've seen for a time on a white boy. And showing it off nice and red. That I like."
Jason rubs his large hands over my backside and squeezes the red flesh of the half on show.
"Is Nikki in? I rang him."
"Sure" says Jason. Go through.
I follow my Master to a door at the back of the shop while Jason turns to deal with a new customer.
We enter a workshop much larger than the shop. Along the walls are racks of clothes and shelves with rolls of materials. Down the centre a long cutting table. Beyond this two sewing machines. At the far end an office area with a desk, computer and several easy chairs. Sitting at the computer is a man who is almost the complete opposite of Jason. He's white, quite small, slim, head shaved bald, but with a bright elfin face and luminous black eyes. His jeans are black, very tight and made from black leather. His tank top is scarlet leather, showing off a good, sun tanned body. His slave collar appears to be studded with imitation red rubies or possibly real ones. He jumps up runs towards Mark, drops to his knees and kisses my Master's boots.
"My Master. Wonderful to see you my dear".
Nikki's walk, talk and manner make quite clear he's one of those camp gays who doesn't give a damn for anyone. Nikki leaps to his feet, embraces Mark and kisses him on both cheeks. Mark grins and pushes him away.
"Keep off me you bloody fairy,"
Nikki turns to me, kisses me on both cheeks, hugs me and then stands with an arm around my shoulders like an old pal. I warm to him and grin back at him.
"Master Mark prefers his slaves to be more butch like you dear. But he trained me good and I owe him for that. Now what can I do for you Master number one?"
"My new slave needs some gear. To start, some tight, very tight jeans to replace the ones his wearing. Pale blue. Okay?"
"Washed out blue we call it in the trade". Nikki walks around me and fingers my bare bottom cheek. "He's a devil, he did just the same to me Ian."
"Do you want him naked?"
Nikki steps away from me, puts a finger to his lips and pretends to ponder.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Strip boy".
They both watch as I take off my clothes. My prick's hard as usual. Nikki takes it in his hand and gives it a squeeze.
"Very nice Ian. Pity you don't fuck Ian. I take it you don't?"
"No sir."
"Now isn't that nice Master Mark. A young man with manners and such an attractive rounded butt. I could eat it. Think I have just the jeans we need."
Nikki runs off and starts searching one of the racks. My Master winks at me and smiles. I'm happy he still has a soft spot for an ex-slave. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I put them on my head. Nikki returns with the jeans.
"Let's measure you properly before you put them on."
With a tape he starts taking every possible body measurement including my penis. He notes them on a pad.
"He'll need cut-offs too Nikki", Mark says. "And a pair of very tight black leather jeans with the usual zips."
"Of course Master Mark. And what about a couple of denim shirts and a jacket?"
"Yeah, those too."
Nikki helps me to pull on the washed out blue jeans. The material is much thinner than normal jeans and very tight around the thighs, crotch, bum and waist. Nikki insists on personally arranging my balls and my still hard prick to point down the right leg of the jeans. Mark nods when Nikki attaches a metal key holder to a loop at the waist on the right. It hangs loose as there are no pockets, front or back. He nods again when I'm put into a light blue denim sleeveless waistcoat short enough to reveal a few inches of my bare midriff as well as my hairless armpits. Last, but not least Nikki provides a pair of boots that slip on and off quite easily. They both admire me as I obey my Master's order to turn around.
"One last thing Nikki. He needs a white tee-shirt, something dressy. Know what I mean?"
"I'll send it round with the leather jeans when they're ready. And if you don't mind me saying so, it'll look a hell of a lot better if you get him a suntan. As you know dear, we've facilities upstairs."
"Right. He'll come around in the week. See you Nikki. We're off for a drink."
He takes me to the pub where we met. The one he'd slated as being poncey. We sit outside in his BMW. Knowing the sort of crowd it attracts, I worry about my new outfit. Will a collar, skin-tight girlie jeans and sleeveless jacket make them all think I'm a er... well a slave? You bet it will, but if that's what he wants, hard luck on me. Mark opens the glove box and takes out a metal chain dog leash, clips it onto my collar and arranges it to hang down my bare chest. Wow! What is he doing to me?
"Okay boy, I want you to go in there and stand at the bar so they can all see the butt I own. Go on. I'll be in soon."
On my own? Bloody hell! Is it another test? Do I have a choice? No. I'm out of the car and walking fast, straight into the pub. It's not too crowded. Eyes forward, I make a bee line for the bar. All eyes are on me. I know that because a new arrival at any gay bar gets the once over. Me, in this outfit, I'm an immediate star attraction. So much so, a barman awaits me, smiling broadly.
"Your usual lager and lime is it sweetheart?" He must remember me from my early days in the pub.
"Er... yes. Thank you."
The barman turns to fix the drink. I turn my head to take in the looks I'm receiving. Mostly grins and whispers to companions. A few lustful stares. But I am the centre of attention and it reminds me to turn back and stick out my bum as ordered. I feel like a whore.
"Your drink sir."
The barman is back, pushing my drink across the bar. I panic. I have no pockets, no money. Where the hell is Mark?
"Are you Master Mark's slave?" A voice asks.
I turn to see a 40ish, quite attractive man in a cream shirt and jeans standing at my side.
I'm amazed. "How do you know that?"
The man laughs. "It says so on your collar. Can I buy you a drink? My name's Lyn. Short for Lyndon."
Without looking at me, Lyn hands the hovering barman a note; "Keep the change Kevin."
I'm now thoroughly flustered and look towards the door hoping Mark will arrive, but I hold on to manners.
"Thanks Lyn. You saved my life."
"And why not?" he says.
Lyn strokes my bare arm. What can I do? I sip my drink and let him do it. His hand pulls aside my waistcoat and slides over my chest. He lightly rubs the tip of one nipple with the tip of his finger. Then my other nipple. Both become hard and I lick my lips.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes" I whisper.
The pubs filling up and we're being edged away from the bar as other customers push forward. There's no longer enough space for any of them to view my arse so I can't help not being able to put it on show. Instead, a series of hands feel me up. One hand in particular gropes and strokes my prick and balls.
"Do you like that?" Lyn asks. I realise the hand belongs to him.
"Yes" I say again. Where is this going? Why isn't Mark here to claim me?
By now I have my back in a corner. Without further comment, Lyn proceeds to run his hands all over my body. He unfastens the button on my jeans, unzips them and tugs them down to my thighs. It's so crowded no one else can see. He runs a hand over my smooth shaven crotch.
"Isn't that nice."
We're close together. His other hand moves around to my bottom, pressing my naked flesh. I'm getting hot, worked up. His big finger enters my crack and probes my anus. I'm breathing hard and looking into his smiling face. He presses his lips against mine and we kiss. He swings me around so he is in the corner and my naked bottom with his finger in it, is presented to the crowd around us. More hands examine my body. Much as I love all this attention I know I shouldn't allow it to continue. I squirm and twist, pull up my jeans and struggle towards the exit.
My Master is still sitting in his car. He grins and opens the rear door. I get in.
"My, you do look hot and bothered. Want to tell my what happened in there?"
"Well, I was waiting for and er... well...
"Forget it boy. I think I know what happened."
Mark opens the front passenger door and Lyn drops into the front seat. He turns to me and grins.
"Enjoy that, did you boy?"
Red faced, I realise it's all been a set up. Mark and Lyn laugh. I join in.
"He's a remarkably good slaveboy Mark. Leant on the bar and stuck his pretty little butt out for all to see. Allowed himself to be touched up by his betters, but just in time remembered his loyalty to his Master and got out. You can be proud of him."
"Yeah, thanks Lyn. I am proud of him. He's coming on well. Shall we have lunch?"
Lyn said, "Come to my place. Salad and things okay?"
Mark nods.
Lyn's place turns out to be a houseboat on the river near Battersea Bridge. And lunch is poached salmon and all the trimmings. All laid out ready, obviously in advance, in a dining cabin next to a galley kitchen. The food is accompanied by several bottles of French white wine. By the time Mark announces he must go, I'm feeling half pissed. I sway to my feet. Mark pushes me down.
"You're staying boy. My gift to Lyn for his excellent work this morning and for our lunch. Just do everything he tells you"
I know better than to question my Master and stay seated at the dining table. Lyn goes to see Mark off. Lyn returns and indicates with his head for me to follow him. We go down a few steps into what is presumably the main living area. It's vast and, although there are no windows or portholes, it's very bright due to the roof being made from panels of opaque fibreglass. It's an untidy mixture of living room, bedroom and artist's studio. A sofa, armchairs, double bed, wardrobe and large table. Paintings stacked along the walls. An artist's easel with a half-finished canvas of a naked man. I follow Lyn through all the jumble and he pulls me down onto the sofa.
"Sorry for the mess. Perhaps I need a slave like you to keep it all clean and tidy. I'm joking; I'm not like Mark. My kinks are different."
"Are you an artist?" I realise it's a silly question, but I feel the need to say something.
"When I'm here, I pretend I am. When I'm with my wife in my flat in Canary Wharf, I'm a city broker."
"You're kidding!" As usual I display my innocence.
Lyn smiles broadly, such lovely teeth, and draws me into a long passionate kiss. His tongue down my throat, his hands under my backside and my arms go around his neck. He pushes me back on the sofa, one hand behind my head and the other between my thighs. He lifts his head up and looks down into my eyes.
"What a gift! You're so young and fresh Ian. So desirable. I'm going to fuck you."
"Yes sir."
"No need for the sir stuff Ian. I just want you as my girl on the side."
I'm a gift from my Master so what can I say? Being given away to a stranger for a fuck is a real turn on for my obedient, submissive nature. Lyn sits up and pulls me up. He points to a door at the end of the cabin.
"I want you to go in there, strip naked and put on the clothes I've left on the bed. Think you can forget the wig,"
He kisses me again and urges me to go. In other words to do as I'm told. The small bedroom I enter is very much tidier and neater with what I assume is a woman's touch. As I strip off while looking in wonder at all the women's clothes on the bed. I decide I must keep on my Master's collar. Then I try to work out in what order I must put on all the silk lingerie. As far as I can remember mum always put on her bra and girdle first. The bra is equipped with small spongy fillings and fastens easily. Then the lace girdle followed by the fine silk stockings that I attach to the girdle straps. They all appear to fit very well. By this time I have a roaring hard on, but still manage to stuff it into the skimpy lace panties. The off the shoulder silk dress is definitely "baby doll". I slip on the high-heeled shoes. The only thing left is the blonde wig. My own hair as Lyn obviously thought is just as good.
I open the door and, wobbling slightly, present my self to Lyn. He stands up, smiles, takes me into his arms and kisses me. One hand squeezes my padded bra and the other goes up the back of my dress and fondles my bottom. I'm well into "my girl on the side" role and respond as eagerly as any newly married wife. He manoeuvres me over to the bed, sits down with me over his knee, pulls up my dress and proceeds to spank my lace covered bottom. I close my eyes. Being spanked as a naughty girl is a major turn on. He rips away the lace panties and the spanking intensifies. I squirm and wriggle wondering if he does this to his wife. Whether she blubs as I'm doing now? He sits me up on his lap and kisses my mouth and tear stained cheeks.
"Oh fuck! You sexy bitch Ian."
Lyn pushes me down on the bed, lifts my legs over my shoulders and thrusts his head between my thighs. He pulls my arse cheeks apart and his tongue reaches for and laps my tight little anus. His energetic tongue is inside me. Wow! Sheer ecstasy. My imagination runs wild thinking about being dressed as a girl, being taken by her boyfriend. I reach down to wank myself just as Lyn removes his mouth from my wet hole and rams in his erect cock. We fuck together like two animals. At last my prick spurts spunk over his hairy chest and this brings him to a shouting climax inside me.