bitch-brian, Part THREE bamaboi2serve@charter.net
Back at my apartment I prepared for the arrival of bitch-brian. I also called my new boi Bobby, the twink from the story who seemed to have a master-streak in him, one that he had used on the bitch. I told him where I lived and said I wanted him here right after work. He agreed, curious about the fetish-filled world he was entering and clearly turned on my bossing his store manager around. I could also tell he got off on my mastering him. I love a versatile slave-boi...no way of telling where he would end up five years from now...a scum sucking slave slut or a master...or both!
In my previous life as a bottom-boy, my shower stall and bedroom closet had both been outfitted with nice eyebolts for bondage purposes. I placed ropes on those eyebolts, checked my supplies and sat down to wait for the bitch.
After a while the doorbell rank and it was the bitch. Before he could stink up my apartment I ordered him get to the bathroom and to strip. His clothes went into a clear trash bag, and he was fixed to the showed stall, facing the wall, using the ropes. I left for a moment and came back with new toy I had ordered for my arsenal. I called it black-daddy...a ping-pong paddle like wood piece with holes in it to allow air through. That lessened the air resistance and made for a nicer disciplinary ass pop.
Without warning I wound up and gave the bitch one, catching both cheeks and prompting a loud scream. Worried about the neighbors, I grabbed a penis gag and stuffed it in the slut's mouth.
"Now, bitch, that should keep you happy...a make-believe cock in your mouth and more discipline on your worthless ass. This one is for mumbling when I told you to clearly tell those girls at the store what brand panties you wear." Bam, loud shots to both cheeks. His ass was already turning a nice red. He was sweating now, and his sweat was mixing with the dried cum and piss on his body. I turned on the exhaust fan. It was one thing for him to live in his own stink, but it was a bit much for me.
For ten minutes I rained down a series to blows to his butt, one cheek at a time. When I finished he was mumbling through his gag, in tears. If the bitch didn't know it before, it was clear to him now that I was in charge.
I left him hanging for a while and went to the kitchen for a beer, turning off the fan and the light and closing the bathroom door. Let him hang and remember his place.
Just as I was relaxing with the beer, my cell rang. It was little Bobby-boi.
"Hey."
"Uh, this is Bobby."
"Why are you not here standing in front of me?"
"Uh, Sir, I'm outside the door...I wanted to make sure you really wanted me to come over..."
As he spoke, I got up from the couch and went to the door, picking up a collar I'd ordered online along the way. I opened the door, and before he could say a word, I pulled Bobby into the apartment and fastened the black leather collar around his neck. He was wearing some really short white denim shorts and a tank. Some of his long blond hair caught under the collar...I could seen somewhat darker hair sprouting from his pits and barely visible on his arms and legs.
To set the tone, I pulled him by the collar over to the kitchen, grabbed a kitchen knife, and sliced off his tank. When he started to protest, I bent forward and jammed my tongue into his mouth, kissing him hard and swirling my tongue around his. It was all too much for the boi, he practically fell into my arms. I let him down to a kneeling position and held his face to my crotch, moving it around like a rubber cock-massager. I was hard, and he felt my cock through my jeans. He started licking, and I slapped him, lightly, just a warning.
"Hey, nobody gave permission for that. You don't do anything unless I tell you to do it. And the same is true for bitch-brian toward you."
"Where is he?...uh, Sir?"
"Don't you be worryin' about the bitch-boi...we'll get to him soon enough. Open my zipper...use your teeth!" Bobby followed orders, salivating all over the front of my jeans and he worked to get the fly open. When he did, I told him to work my cock out without any teeth, and he struggled with that task, using his tongue to loop around my fat rod. My regrowing pubes were soaked with his spit and I could see one of my pube hairs stuck above his upper lip.
Bobby, he still had on his daisy Dukes, and there was no hiding his own hardon. It pressed against the white denim, seeking escape. A wet spot the size of a quarter had formed at the tip.
When he finally got my cock out, I stepped back and let him look at it a moment. He was mesmerized. He'd watched plenty of cock in the school locker room, but never this close up. A bead of precum formed on my tip, and I reached down to catch it with my finger.
"Do you want this?" I asked.
Bobby looked up with his sea-blue eyes and quickly said he did.
I took my finger and licked it.
"Too bad. I have something else in mind for you to use that boi-tongue on."
I pulled him along on all fours by reaching down for his collar...my leash wasn't nearby. When we arrived at the bathroom door, I pulled his shorts off, his nice teen cock slapping up to his belly in surprise, splattering us both with the accumulated precum on his tip. HE immediately reached for it and I slapped his hand way.
`No!", I ordered. He looked at me, wounded that I was unhappy and that he had acted badly out of lust. From inside the bathroom came a muffled sound.
"I hear you bitch. I have a guest out here...any idea who it is?
Silence.
"Do you think it could be Joey?" I suggested.
There came a moan from inside that spoke more clearly than if the slut had not been gagged. Joey was his little brother...and he was probably amazed I even knew he had a little brother. Google is a wonderful thing.
"How about Uncle Frank?" Another moan...Frank looked like a hottie in the college photos I found...he was always with a woman on his arm, but I was just messing with the bitch's mind.
"Stay!" I ordered Bobby, opening the bathroom door and then closing it behind me. The bitch turned his head wildly, trying to see who was with me. I used his old cut-up tank-top as a blindfold, tightened his bonds and gave him a dozen good slaps to his ass with Black-Daddy. The first one took him by surprise, but by nine and ten he was into the rhythm, moaning, but clearly enjoying his punishment a the same time.
I went back outside the bathroom find Bobby crouching against the far wall. He'd heard the punishment, which I intended, of course, and was afraid.
"OK, Bobby-boi. What we're going to do next is what I like to think of as a transfer of power. Remember...I'm your Master, and you are the bitch's Master...but there's a line in between and we'll have to cross that before you can start using your new slut-slave inside. Remember how you pissed on him at the store...and how we came on him too? Well little bitch-boi has been laying on the floor and hasn't showered yet and he's a bit of a mess. When we go inside, I want you to use your tongue to clear the dirt on his back to write a message. I want you to write "Slave Bobby/Master Bobby" with your saliva on his filthy back. There's enough grime and stuff on his back that it should stand out nicely. You'll have to start up top below his neck and work your way down towards his ass. When you've finished, I'll hand over power to you to be his Master."
Through all of this, Bobby had stared at my feet, moaning as if I he were getting a blowjob or something. It was clearly a huge turn-on for him to hear me ordering him around, and for him to envision being bitch-brian's Master. I reached down and massaged his tits, turning up the moans by a third.
"Do you understand?" I asked.
"Yes, Sir," he said quietly.
I turned and opened the bathroom door.
To be continued Comments? Bamaboi2serve@charter.net