D I S C L A I M E R ********************
The following story is meant for the enjoyment of consenting adults who are at least 18 years of age (or 21 if local laws so state) If you are under that age, leave now!
This story contains consensual, if rather extreme, sex between a large group of men (or one man in particular and many, many partners). If this is not your cup of tea, I suggest you look elsewhere now.
BEFORE WE BEGIN; AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This story was not written by me (see note below). I merely received it and a number of others like it (or not) from a friend via e-mail. He did not write these stories either, and can't remember where they have all been collected from over the years. Unfortunately, over the years they have had their disclaimers and author details edited out, so the real author of this story is not known by me.
This particular story was pretty fragmented, and I had to re-write or replace about half of it before I could get it to make any sort of good reading sense. Other editing (this time pretty extensive - some people should never be allowed to claim they speak English) has been done to clean up the rough spots, and I've edited out the spelling errors (the computer found 1478 - I kid you not!). I hope I got them all.
If you know who the author of the original story was, do me a favour and make sure he never attempts to write another one. It's pretty hot, but it was painful to read in its original form. And if you like this as it is, drop me line - at least half of it is mine.
Raleigh Burke raleighb@pobox.com
PS For those of you who recognise the name, further parts of To Alex With Love will appear (finally!) very soon.
SEX BITES SERIES
Story 2:
Master's Private Party.
Authoritarian (Orgy, BD, SM, WS, FF and just about everything else)
Many slaves claim that they have the best Master around, but I know for a fact that I do. You see, unlike most, I didn't come to it willingly. I didn't even have hidden urges in that direction - though I admit that I was gay - that needed to be brought out. No, I was just into plain old vanilla gay sex.
Now, I can't even remember the date I was abducted, nor do I know how long I was kept or where or in what state before I first met my Master, but I can remember our first meeting. You see, Master broke my nose.
I'd been snatched off the street one night while I was walking my dog. You see, the Master had seen me somewhere, and decided he wanted me. How he went about what came next, I suspect I'll never know, but that night, as I was walking my dog - just like I did every other night of the week - a van pulled up beside me, two huge guys jumped out and grabbed me, and before the dog could even bark I was on my stomach on the floor of the van with these two huge guys sitting on me, and having a syringe jabbed into my arse.
How long I was kept drugged I don't know, or where for that matter, but I finally came to in a small featureless room, laying naked on a bare mattress dumped on the floor. That day was hazy - I guess the drugs where still in my system - but after many hours I heard footsteps coming closer to me.
I stood up and moved towards the door of the room, but soon changed my mind. The door to the room had no handle, but opened inwards silently to show a huge man in a dark business suit, and I backed back into the farthest corner from him, covering myself.
He stood silently, looking me up and down, and I remember blushing scarlet at my nakedness in this situation, but then I went white as a sheet again as he moved towards me. He stopped in front of me, reaching up to grasp my chin, pulling my head up to look him in the eye.
"You're belong to me now, boy," he said in a soft voice, "I suggest you get used to it quickly."
It was a combination of things really; fear, anger, embarrassment and confusion, but at that moment, I spat full in his face.
He didn't wipe it off; he didn't even flinch; he just tightened his grip on my chin --- then kneed me in the balls. I must of gaped like a fish as he released my chin, my eyes were certainly as wide as could be, but when I started to collapse into a ball on the ground, his fist came from nowhere and took me full in the nose.
Again, the next two days are a blur, but when I saw him again, the only thing he said to me about it was "Don't ever do that again."
The next two years were something for another time - for if I were to tell it now you'd run screaming from the room - but the Master was right. I belong to him - now.
Master lives in a sprawling three-story split level residence about seventy-five minutes from the CBD. This, I admit, is only a guess, but I base it on two seeming facts at my disposal. Firstly, the few times he's called when leaving the office and the time it takes to return home after that call, and secondly, he lives in the country.
The house is built into the side of the hill, with two of the bottom splits actually built back into the ground, and it's here that I have spent the last few years of my life. Oh, I get out in the sun, but I'm kept on a short leash most times - literally.
As it is, I'm as much Master's house boy as I'm his slave, and he keeps me locked in a collar and otherwise naked at most times, maybe just wearing some sort of harness, and when he's not home he makes me wear a giant butt plug/dildo up my arse to keep it stretched for him. Occasionally, he'll put me in a male chastity belt that fills my arse full of a huge vibrating phallus to keep my cock hard, but also chains up my cock and keeps it form getting hard. As you can imagine, this tends to present me with some unusual challenges.
When Master comes home from work, I have to meet him at the front door on my knees, pushing my face into his covered crotch, and pull his zipper down with my teeth. Then I may kiss his cock welcome, after which maybe Master will give me a quick little face fuck, not really to come, but to get him primed for what may follow.
Then I follow at a discreet distance as Master goes to his bedroom, were I become his naked and primed valet, helping him strip off his clothes. Then, if he feels the need, he'll push me to my knees and command that I take his penis in my mouth and he'll relieve himself. Master loves humiliating me by using me as his personal urinal, as he knows that after all the time he's trained me, I still hate this act.
After I've licked the last of the flow from his now semi-hard penis, he moves back out to the lounge room, where he sits in his favourite chair to watch TV, while I have to sit between his legs nursing on his cock, sucking and licking it until he finally grabs the back of my head and rams it down into his pubes, slamming a huge load of cum down my throat into my stomach.
After the forced blowjob, Master has me serve him dinner, and then clean-up afterwards while he finishes up whatever business he has bought home with him in his office. Unless he's given me other instructions for the evening, after I'm finished with the clean up, I have to prepare myself for his further pleasure.
Master's sexual appetites are both huge and varied, and I can never guess what it is he will wish for me to do to please him. He says that the day I can anticipate his wishes will be the day he sets me free, because that will be the day that he fails in his obligations to his peers.
On this particular night, his instructions had been curt and to the point.
I have gone to his bedroom - his real bedroom, not his rubber room or his torture room - and began the preparation by chaining my ankles to the lower bed posts at the foot of the bed, one of my wrists at the top spreading myself out over two bolsters that raise my backside into the air for easy access for his thick shaft.
I lay silently awaiting his pleasure until he appears, chaining my free wrist, tightening the other bonds, then silently walking around, studying me, drinking in my helplessness.
His hands rub softly over my butt, down into the crack, then I feel him reach in and grasp the big plug, savagely yanking it from my distended hole, replacing it with first two, then three, then finally four thick fingers as I moan in combined agony and pain. The fingers twist and turn, and for a moment he pushes so hard that I think he's going to jam his entire fist up my arse, but then he withdraws them, moving away from the bed again, observing my helpless position. He'll wait for a few minutes, allowing me to think I have received a respite, then he'll lunge at me, jamming his shaft into my channel so fully that I feel it will come out my throat, his weight fully on my back pressing me into the mattress.
His thrusting is full and savage, the thickness of his rod stretching me like it does every time, but this night there seems an extra energy in his stroke, as every shaft withdraws until only the pulpy crown remains in me, then slams back in so his wiry pubes scrape against my sensitive butt flesh.
After what seems like hours but is probably only about ten minutes, his thrusting becomes irregular and his shaft gets thicker in my channel, then he'll gives one great final lunge, shooting a great wad of cum deep inside me. The warm stickiness makes my channel slicker, and his shaft glides like it's been oiled as his breathing slows and he regains his composure. Master will withdraw from my arse then, normally with a painful jerk, lifting off my back, but still I can feel him behind me, and suddenly the giant dildo is shafted back up into me, filling me to capacity once more. He jerks it in and out a few times, then tells me not to go anywhere before getting up and leaving the room.
My shaft will again be rock hard after wilting under the painful assault, even more aroused now, but still there's no relief in sight as Master has not allowed it.
I can hear him in the lounge room again now, talking to someone, so he must be on the phone, and he talks for ages and ages, then all is quiet, and he's standing next to me in the bedroom.
He tells me he's organised a little party, and I'm to be the guest of honour, and now it's time to prepare me. Master un-cuffs me from the bed, them marches me down to the games room on the lowest split of his house. It's a large room, with couches and armchairs and a big bar, a pool table on one side and a fully fitted bathroom off separately near the stairs. The solid wooden ceiling beams are exposed, and bolts and hooks hang in certain places, there for the various toys he uses on me at times like this.
First he takes me into the bathroom, ripping out my dildo plug again, cuffing my hands behind my back with wide leather cuffs connected by a short chain. He then proceeds to give me warm, soapy, strawberry smelling enemas, first one, then another, my bowels filling each time, my stomach cramping painfully. After the first I'll be moaning loudly as the water swells me until I look about eleven months pregnant, then I have to squat over the toilet and expel the water each time. Six, seven, eight times Master repeats this before he decides I am clean, then one last enema, this one with some kind of warm, slick oil that will leave me moderately lubricated.
Next he takes me back out to the games room, were he attaches more leather cuffs to my ankles, which are locked to a U-bolt recessed into the centre of the floor. As I kneel there, trying to get comfortable, he puts thick foam earplugs in my ears, and then a tight black leather face mask is pulled over my head. It has no ear or eye-holes, but leaves some of my nose free to breath with, and my mouth open and available for the Master's pleasure.
Now, I can't hear or see anything, my senses existing in a vacuum as I wait for what is to happen next. I feel his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to bend at the waist, and suddenly something is pushing at my backdoor. It's slimmer than the other dildo, and I moan in fear, for this makes me know what it is. As it sinks in, it gets thicker and thicker, a butt plug that is a full four inches thick at it's widest point, before slimming back down to a slim two inches were my sphincter grips it tight. An incredible sensation of fullness permeates my bowels, and as Master pulls me back to kneel upright again, I'm about as stuffed as I ever have been.
I kneel there alone for a long time, then I can sense movement in the room, a group seems to be forming, and I can feel the weight moving the floorboards slightly as they move around me, admiring my trussed and helpless stance. Then, I sense that someone is right in front of me, and a hand grips my jaw through the mask, forcing my mouth open wide. A fat, rigid cock head slips smoothly across my tongue, and then the shaft of the thick, unknown cock continues to force it's way into my gullet and down my throat. I can barely breath, but there's no respite from the brutal face fuck. I suck with abandon, as Master has shown me many times the punishment for not pleasing one of his friends. The cock blasts quickly, a thick syrupy load that sticks to my tongue as it withdraws, but there's no rest now, as another thick shaft replaces it, immediately beginning it's hard thrusting action.
I must kneel for over an hour, hard cocks being pressed to my lips regularly, one load of cum after another sprayed into my helpless orifice. I suck hungrily, let the shafts slither down my now slicked throat, pursing my lips to keep my teeth away from tender cock heads and shafts, drawing hard on bulging tips to slurp down stringy pre-cum, and take their full delicious loads of cream, straight from the tap.
Then, after all have had their turn, I am bathed. From all sides at once. Master knows I hate this - I can't tell you enough how much I hate water-sports - but I am his toy to play with, and tonight he will be cruel for the enjoyment of his guests. Hot streams jet against my skin, the odour of urine rising high in my nostrils. I try to turn my face away, clamping my mouth shut, but there is nowhere to hide from the powerful amount of yellow water spraying me from head to toe.
Before I have the chance to dry, droplets still dripping from my skin, the cuffs are all unlocked and separated, and strong hands hoist me into the air. I float momentarily at the top of the arc, then slam down on my back in a sling, the one Master keeps in the toy cupboard - he must of attached it to the roof bolts in the ceiling while I was servicing his friends. The cuffs are locked again, spreading me out to the four corners of the sling, and a ball gag is forced into my mouth. Then the giant plug is yanked forcefully from my arse; I know what's coming next, and I don't have to wait long.
The first cock hurts a little coming into me. Not much; just a pinch, but it was so covered in oil, it penetrated me deep on the first, slow push. My cock flexes up hard, leaking dew from it's tip, but then the battering-ram in my anus pulls back and begins fucking me. In and out like that, it goes on for hours. My prick, laying large across my belly, keeps twitching and flexing, getting semi-hard then softening. I can't come like that - not from just getting reamed out - and while reaming is pleasurable, no one will touch my shaft.
An hour passes, and my arsehole is as wide open and limp as a women's snatch. Perhaps a cup of extra-virgin olive oil has been poured down my crack and every new cock that enters me is preceded by another wetting of thick oil. Then the shafts piston that slipperiness deep inside me and shove in and out till I can feel everything gurgling way up inside my bowels. And that isn't even taking into account all the cum that has been injected into me at the end of each episode. Cum and oil and sludge; all of it mixed and blended together. I now know what milk must feel when it's churned into butter.
Cocks cream me, only to be pulled out and replaced by more cocks, some of them shoved up along the angle of my rectal sleeve, some poke down into me at a steeper angle, but all of them fill me full of themselves. Rubbing my slack walls, pushing against my over-filled prostate, giving the type of deep massage only a Master and his friends can inflict.
In and out and in and in and out. Digging down, sawing up and down inside, stretching me wider and softer than I've ever been stretched before.
I feel alive, every pore sweating both my pleasure and pain. Every part of me tingles, and my nipples stand out hard and proud from my chest. The force of the thrusts against me swing my body back and forth, swinging me away from each anal intruder, then jamming me back harder onto it with every new thrust. I love being in the saddle, a rider slamming away at my rump, filling me to capacity with his fuck-lance as he takes his pleasure from my offered body.
In and out - hard! My muscles all flex, giving me the sensation of that galloping stallion, ridden at full tilt to exhaustion, A mission of great urgency the cause of their need. Every now and then my rider shoves in all the way, holding himself there and letting his cock quiver within my fluttering sleeve. I could feel the cream spraying gushing into me, filling my liquefied hole, pumping me full of the riders' pleasure. I wished I could hear the sounds they made as they filled me, but the most I can hear is the thudding of my heart.
But it doesn't matter. I'm just a vessel that my Master has offered up to please his friends, one that had overflowed long before, and the puddle of cooling cum and oil grew on the floor beneath me. It had started with my own leaking pre-cum, and had been added to after the very first fuck, that thick cock giving me it's load and pulling out, allowing the sperm to leak down out of me, trailing down my arse, and dripping off the bottom edge of the sling onto the floor.
But then I forgot about it as the next cock filled me, rubbing and flexing my arse walls, as the pleasure from the friction blanked my mind. Then the next entered and the next and the next. On and on, never more than a moment between extractions and insertions, large and small drill bits drilling for my oil, going deeper each time, pulling wet and slick with cum and making room for the next in line. Then that fluttering excitement as my ordeal resumed.
But there are breaks in the rhythm of my sodomy, and even these have their own message. Pee spurts over my cock and belly and chest, forming rivers and running off my sides, reminding me that this is for their pleasure, not mine. The heat shocks me each time, and I can smell it, remember the awful taste from before, and then that relieved organ would be slipped up inside my hole, thrusting in and out to give me it's other kind of wetness.
More hours pass, till cocks are drained and dry. Now prying fingers replace the soft cock tips and spread me wider than I've ever been. The fingers were slicked with fresh oil - poured from above - and in my open, dilated condition, the cool oil flowed and splashed right into my exposed depths. Then the fingers were pushing in, forcing my hole gently wider, then wider, and knuckles slipped past my ring. A thumb and four fingers, then the last knuckles.
Pointed and pushing, the hand goes were it's yet to go this evening, entering me, twisted slightly, moved in further till my arse is spread wide enough to accept the wrist. The fingers curl up inside me, rubbing my inner walls with smooth tips, curling and joining the thumb within me, forming the fist. The fist pulls back - the oil lining my bulging walls allowing it easy passage - but it does not pass back out of my ring and stays within, pushing back, filling me more than all the cocks I'd had. I hold my breath, squeezing with what strength I have left in my rectal cavity, breathing out, letting myself blossom open to that hand. Open, then open more.
The fist moves into me deep, pulls out a little, then stops. I feel cool oil pour down into me again, turning my liquefied sleeve into a bath of slickness, and when the wrist attached to that hand pulls down, my clinging arse lets go and the oil flows in. Within me, within my deepest, most personal place, the hand flexes - fingers enjoying the molten core of me - and all that was still contained in my sleeve; sperm, oil, saliva, urine, enema scent, gurgled and churned and was mixed into that final mix.
That's when my restraints were let loose, and my gag and blindfold and earplugs were removed, that hard/soft fist still buried in me, and I saw the faces of my Master - the owner of the invading hand - and all his friends, naked and to a man totally erect, watching with avid interest.
Master's fist continues to push and pull within me, as his other hand reaches up and grasps my straining, purple shaft. Another hand reaches in and massages my balls, and I begin to leak even more, as a giant shaft is presented to my lips, and I open wide to swallow that magnificent flesh.
I come slowly, the hand massaging my prostate, and it's as though I've died in that moment. I buck, and I feel what I know is my Master's lips envelop my shaft as I begin to pump my seed, and after hours of non-stop stimulation, my orgasm goes on for a good sixty seconds as I spill the entire contents of my scrotum into my Master's waiting mouth, as the cock down my throat blasts off one last load.
Then, as I recover, with the Master slowly removing his hand from my slack channel, I see his other friends moving closer, cocks straining once more, and I know we're about to start all over again, but before they can, I hear my Master's voice, barely audible, whispering in my ear "Only six hours to go till morning, slave."