After my public fucking I was allowed to rest and recuperate together with Christian on the bed in the workroom. Gary brought us food and drinks and I was half-asleep when Nikki and Jason came to take Christian home.
My Master came in soon after. He turned me, still half-asleep, onto my stomach and I felt his naked body mounting me, his hard cock probing then entering me. I could feel he was sexually charged, excited I hoped by watching me, his slave, being fucked as a dog earlier in the evening. Now I am his bumboy again, responding eagerly with the muscles of my arse to the pounding that he is giving it with his wonderful, monstrous cock. No whispered words. He needs sex and I am his to use. It's a wonderful feeling. At last a few grunts and I feel his seed pumping, pumping into me. He pulls out, covers me with a duvet and leaves.
On Saturday morning, I give myself three enemas, shave all over and shower. Naked, but for the collar, I go to find my Master. I find him on the roof terrace having breakfast. He's casually dressed in jeans with a thick black, a denim shirt and black leather boots. He points to the ground at his feet and I kneel obediently. He drops spoonfuls of cereal and other scraps on the floor for me to eat.
At last he speaks. "You were good last night boy. Hope you enjoyed the fuck as much as I did. Many Masters believe enjoyment is not something a slave should expect, I don't. Did you enjoy being humiliated in front of my friends last night?"
Admitting that humiliation is a fantastic turn on, even if it's true, is not easy to say. All one's upbringing and education fights against such an admission. But my Master is asking and I must be truthful.
"Yes sir, I did." There, it's out. I've said it.
"Obedience is what being a slave is all about. If you obey, you're bound to suffer humiliation. If you don't, you're punished and that can be humiliation too. Last night I didn't punish you in front of them, but it may happen."
"Yes sir."
"Today we're going a step further. I'll certainly enjoy it. In the lobby you'll find a bag. It's a gift. Nikki brought it last night. Put what you find on and your boots and come back here double quick."
"Yes sir."
The bag contains some old washed jeans and a pink tee-shirt with the word "slave" printed large on the front and back. I put them on, and my boots and run back to Mark. He's put on a black leather jacket. He hands me an old leather bag to carry.
"Let's go boy."
As I haven't a car, it's a great treat to be driven around in my Master's BMW. It's a warm sunny day. We head west, over the Thames, up Richmond Hill, through Richmond Park and down again towards the river. In contrast to the centre of London this has the feel of the countryside. Turning off down a lane, there are fields on either side and I can see the river shimmering a little way ahead. Mark stops the car at the side of the road.
Mark leads the way through a gate, me carrying the bag, and we walk along the edge of a meadow into a wooded area of shrubs and young trees. I notice one and then several other guys lurking around in the trees.
"Don't worry boy, this is a gay cruising area."
I didn't feel worried, simply curious. I keep a sharp lookout for other men, but the trees and shrubs have become quite dense on each side of the path. Then we come to a small clearing with an area of grass and one or two larger trees. Mark grips my arm.
"This will do. You'll stand here with your hands on your head until I get back. Okay?"
"Yes sir."
He walks back the way we had come. I think of sitting down and then remember the instruction to stand. After about fifteen minutes I see a youngish guy, partly hidden by foliage peering at me. Then another. I turn and see several others. They edge forward, but stop when Mark suddenly reappears. He feels up my arse and gropes my crotch. I decide this is for the benefit of the audience. When he speaks it's loud enough for them to hear.
"Do you like being touched up in public boy?"
"Yes sir."
"Speak up boy."
"Yes sir. " They can all hear me.
"Why is that boy?"
"Because I'm your slave sir." Now they know my status.
"Drop your pants boy."
I unzip my jeans and they drop to the ground. My prick's hard.
"Bend over boy. Feet apart."
Down I go. He starts spanking me. Not hard enough to make me yell out, but a demonstration to the onlookers that I obey orders and take punishment.
"Stand up slave. Take off your boots and jeans."
I stoop down, slip off my boots and step out of the jeans.
"Now your shirt."
Mark takes the shirt from me and puts it in the bag together with my jeans and boots. He takes out a length of chain, fastens it to my collar, loops the other end around a nearby tree and secures it in place with a padlock. I notice the chain allows me to move only about five feet from the tree. He starts playing with my nipples. Squeezing them so hard I put up my hands and try to squirm away from his grip. He flicks away my hands and slaps my bare arse a dozen times. I can see several of the watching guys have moved into the clearing. Now he grips my prick and starts masturbating me. Moving me around so the watching guys can see me being milked. At least eight men staring at my red bottom and shaved body. My Master stops wanking me.
"Down on your hands and knees."
At his feet he pushes me away with a foot.
"Remember your training last night boy? You as my puppy? Use this tree and show these guys how a dog slave takes a piss."
I position myself against the tree and lift a leg. Some of the guys are laughing and pointing. I don't have to strain much to release a jet of piss. Because my prick's erect, the piss swishes as much over my chest as it does the tree. Humiliated, I lower my leg.
"Stand up boy."
My master arranges me in position. Feet apart, head bowed and hands on the back of my head.
Mark pulls his thick belt from the loops in his jeans, holds it up to my mouth for me to kiss and then walks behind me. The eight guys move forward into a tight circle no more than a few feet from us. One is quite old with grey hair. Most of the others in there 20's and 30's. Some in shorts, others in jeans. The last one, probably only 18, wears soccer shorts and shirt. All have their hard tools out and are masturbating, aroused by seeing me stripped naked and my Master raising his belt to thrash my bottom.
I tense my self for the first whack. When the loud crack comes I stagger forward several paces.
"Back in position boy."
Hearing me being given an order and me immediately obeying is enough to get the guys wanking harder.
"You've getting nineteen more, count them out boy."
"Two sir", I shout as the first explodes across my already tender bottom.
"Three sir", I yell. I try to jump sideways to avoid the next, but my Master patiently waits for me to calm myself.
Then it goes on. Me shouting out the numbers, my hands going down to soothe my bottom, my legs prancing all over the place. I'm putting on quite a show I realise, especially when I start to cry and these guys can hear a grown man blubbing as the tears roll down my face. To try and obliterate the pain, I think of the scene of me being punished in public. Except that this time it's for real.
"Twenty sir, thank you sir."
I stumble to the ground and on all fours go forward to cling to my Masters boots and kiss them. I look up. He's smiling and looking down at my tear stained face.
"Good boy."
He takes out his hard cock, pauses for a moment and then releases a stream of piss directly into my face and mouth. I swallow his golden liquid down, gulping greedily. The eight guys have crowded up close and shoot their spunk down onto my face and body, laughing as they do so. Mark looks on approvingly. The young guy wearing football gear presumes he has permission and aims his piss at my arsehole and then my mouth. The other guys follow suit. I close my eyes, welcoming this utter degradation I'm being subjected to in my Master's presence. I feel my Master dragging his boots away from my clinging arms. Looking up, I see him walking away. One by one, their piss spent, the others follow him.
I'm too exhausted too move. I'm also wallowing in a feeling of complete humiliation, lying there in a pool of spunk and piss. In the open, still chained to the tree. What next? I struggle to my feet and lean against the tree, waiting for my Master to return.
"Fucking hell, what have we here?" I hear a male voice asking.
I spin round to see two guys wearing jeans and tank tops standing about ten feet away. Both tough looking, thirty year old hunks.
"Hi, I'm Greg. What's your name babe?"
"Ian sir." There I go again!
They come forward close and start handling me. Greg's hands on my tits, his mate fondling my crotch and bottom.
"Sir is it? I like that, don't you Mick?"
"Yeah, but where's his master? Has he left you here to be used by anyone Ian mate?"
"I'm not sure sir." It could be? I don't know.
Greg twists my tits till I'm gasping. Mick has one, then two fingers pushing into my arsehole.
"I think you are sure. I think you're a bitch begging to be used, aren't you" says Greg.
"Yes sir."
Greg pushes my head down to his crutch, opens his flies and produces a large, purple headed hard-on. I take it into my mouth without further instruction, suck down it to his pubics and back. My tight puckered anus, still wet from being washing down by piss, opens up to Mick's eager member. I wonder if my Master is watching and enjoying this scene. Watching his naked slave, out in the open, chained to a tree, bent over, being used by two men to satisfy their sexual lust. Mick pounds me in and out at the back and Greg does the same with my mouth. Wow! It's such a fantastic sexual feeling for me, my prick is throbbing. I'm near to a climax without even touching it. They both roar out like bulls. My mouth and rectum fill with spurts of hot spunk and I am wonderfully fulfilled as my own prick bursts into a spontaneous shooting orgasm. Wow! Wow! Wow!
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