by GWMSUB4DOMGAM
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As I looked around I realized I was about half way up a large set of hills, with the valley below. This was a very narrow unpaved lane between two huge fields. The road was basically a gravel path, with rocks lying across the whole surface, and pot holes throughout its length. In the valley I could see what I believe to be the River Clyde, but I couldn't be certain. All I knew for sure, was I had ten minutes to cover a half mile on rough ground in my bare feet. I tried running, but quickly realized the rocks were way too rough and uncomfortable, so I then tried running on the rough grassy verge at the side of the path. This wasn't much more helpful, as it was overgrown by thistles and nettles which stung my legs. I eventually figured out that a fast jogging pace allowed me to pick my footfalls with more accuracy and before I realized it, I was in front of a large sheet metal fence with two open gates that led into the scrap yard.
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The fence was a good ten or twelve feet high, and solid but also significantly rusted. It stretched for a distance on both sides of the path before making a turn and disappearing from sight. The sign by the open doors announced "Morgan's Metal" in large red letters with "Scrap metal and spare parts" in smaller red letters below and a telephone number underneath that. Below was a sign announcing that the yard was open Monday to Saturday from 6am to 9pm and closed all day Sunday. The path continued in through the two large open gates, so I walked through, wondering how Master knew of this place and had access to it. On either side of me were piles of old, rusted cars, one on top of the other stacked as many as three or four high in places. There were old washing machines, exhaust pipes lying everywhere, broken glass and odd and ends of metal and rubber lying around the vehicles.
I continued walking, scanning left and right at the discarded junk in case anyone else other than Master was in the yard. I realized that I was feeling the chill again. I'd been running naked in the rain with a cold wind blowing in my face since Master had abandoned me on the path. While I was jogging and concentrating on not stepping on a rock, I was fairly warm and didn't really even notice the cold, though the water running from my hair and into my eyes from the rain was irritating at times. I had to keep shaking my head from side to side like a dog, to clear the water from my eyes. The rain seemed to be even harder than before now, coming down in large heavy droplets that hit my skin almost audibly. Despite all of this, my cock was rock hard and still throbbing. My feet were really cold, almost to the point of tingling, and the soles of my feet were sore from the pebbles and rocks I'd been running over. My heart was pounding, not so much from the jogging, but more from the anticipation of what awaited me and the excitement of being stark naked in public, and in a strange place, with a complete stranger waiting for me somewhere amongst all of this junk and debris. I continued to walk down the path and in the distance I noticed what looked like some portable cabins.
I jogged the rest of the way to the clearing in which the cabins were located as quickly as I could, taking care not to trip, my cock bouncing in a circular motion, hitting my legs and my belly as I ran. When I ran into the clearing I saw Master standing on the steps of a porta-cabin type structure in front of an open door, with a video camera in his hands. He was filming me, full frontal, stark naked, in the pouring rain with my hands cuffed behind my back. I continued to run towards him, somehow embarrassed by the thought of being captured on film. Strangely, it wasn't the thought of what he may, or could, do with that tape of me running stark naked with a hard cock in public that unsettled me, it was an irrational concern that I looked stupid running the way I was with my hands behind my back.
I ran towards him and stopped only when he held up his hand to halt me, still embarrassed and looking at the ground to avoid the glare of the camera.
"Stay there slave," he said as I neared the concrete slab that sat under the three trailers which were arranged in a semi-circle in the clearing. Each trailer had a large metal covering the extended out for about ten or fifteen feet beyond the cabins which were supported by a sturdy looking steel structure, providing shelter from the rain that Master had decided I should not enjoy. He stopped me about five feet away from the cover of the shelter, a smile on his face as he trained that damned camera on me. .
"Turn around slowly," he ordered, and as he continued filming me, I turned slowly around, viewing the path I'd just come from and showing the camera my ass and my hands cuffed behind my back. I continued to turn until I faced Master again, my cock still rock hard, the rain continuing to pelt my naked flesh. As I looked down my own body at my rigid cock, I realized that my flesh was really goose-fleshed and almost pink from the cold. I shivered a little, shrugging some water from my shoulders and shaking my head again to clear my eyes.
"I wouldn't have believe anyone could have gotten hard by being so wet and cold and humiliated, but you love this shit, don't you," he stated, the camera still focused on me.
"Yes, Master," I replied, felling the rush of blood to my cheeks again.
"I can tell slave. You're still rock hard. Amazing. I love it. We're going to have a lot of fun I think," he said.
"Yes, Master," I replied, still not lifting my gaze to meet him or the camera. Staring intently at the largish puddle in front of my feet and watching my reflection shimmer in it as the large rain drops broke the surface and added to its volume.
"Tell me your full name," he ordered, the camera still rolling. I told him my full name.
"Now, tell me your full address," and I gave him my address.
"Good slave," he replied. "Now, tell me why you're here and why you are naked," he ordered.
"Master, I'm here because I'm your sex slave and I'm naked because I will do whatever you order me to do, and you have ordered me to be naked at all times in your presence, Master," I replied, hoping it was the answer he was looking for.
"Hmm," he replied in a mocking tone. "So you'll do anything I ask, huh?"
"Yes, Master," I replied, shaking. I had just admitted on tape for the first time in my life that I was not only gay, but that I wanted and enjoyed being submissive and a sex slave.
"So," he said, pausing and waiting until I raised my eyes to catch a glimpse of him. "If I was to ask you to suck my cock until I shoot down your throat, you'd do it willingly?"
"Yes, Master," I replied feeling blood rush to my cheeks and that all too familiar sensation of embarrassment.
"Hmmm, good," he said nodding slightly and pretending that he did not already know that would be my answer.
"And if I was to fuck you in the arse three or four time a day and switch between your arse and your mouth as I fuck you whenever I wanted, you'd to that willingly?" he asked.
"Ye...," I tried to reply, but my voice cracked slightly with the thought of actually admitting this on film. I recovered quickly, swallowed with a loud gulping sound and confirmed "Yes, Master," nodding my head to add to my confirmation.
"And if I was to give you to any of my friends to fuck or use you as they wish whenever I see fit, you'd do that willingly too?" he asked. This really did seem like a sincere question on his part, with some doubt as to my possible response. I looked up to find him staring intently at me.
I had fantasized about being fucked by lots of guys before, and I'd fantasized about being raped by a gang of guys, but I'd never really contemplated being provided as a sex slave by my master to a stranger or strangers. I opened my mouth to speak, and paused as I tried to work though my emotions. I wanted and desired to be fucked by hot and demanding guys, but did I want to be fucked and used by anyone Master chose?
Master gave me time to come up with an answer and I almost contemplated asking him if I could decide at the time he offered me to someone else. I decided against this, realizing that my true desire was to be controlled and used in any way Master wanted within reason. I reasoned that Master would be careful in offering me to others, and I wanted to express my trust and devotion to him.
"Yes, Master," I replied, as I returned my stare to the rain puddle in front of me.
"Excellent," Master replied with excitement palpable in his voice. "Excellent," he replied.
"And if you should displease me at any time, and for any reason, and I choose to punish you by caging you, or slapping you, or whipping you, you will accept your punishment willingly?"
A moment of fear gripped me as my imagination ran wild with visions of old pirate and deep American South slave movies played in my head, with a bound slave hanging from a beam, his back cut to shreds and bleeding as a cat o' nine tails ripped at his remaining flesh. If I said yes, was I providing him permission to beat me senseless and torture me horribly? Again he waited, allowing me to consider, ponder, doubt, chastise myself and come to a decision.
Before I could reply, he smiled broadly and added, "But any punishment will never harm or mark you permanently. It may, and probably will, hurt at the time, but you will always be able to go home afterwards which is my promise to you," he said with compassion and concern in his voice.
"I enjoy inflicting some pain, as much as I enjoy using and fucking slaves. Hugh thinks you will love this also," he added.
The mention of my former Master, of sorts, name sealed the deal and convinced me that Master Rashid would look after me as Master Hugh had.
"Yes, Master," I said. "I will accept whatever punishment you choose, Sir," I continued, raising my eyes to look into his beaming face and finding myself smiling also, as though we had just shared a childish joke or prank.
"So essentially, you are my property, my complete and total slave when you are with me – just as a horse or a dog would be my property," he stated adding a "Yes?"
"Yes, Master," I replied, for the first time thinking of myself not as a boy, not as a human but as an owned item of property. That single statement changed something within me almost instantly. I had just given myself over to Master Rashid on tape as his property to own and use as he saw fit. I perceptibly felt different about our relationship in this second, than I had felt just a few seconds before. It was a very odd realization for me, that mere words would have such a psychological impact.
"Wonderful," Master said with obvious excitement in his voice.
Master walked a few steps backwards and placed the video camera on a small table next to the steps leading into the trailer.
"Come here, slave," he said, tilting his head and beckoning me to approach him.
I walked forward, through the large rain puddle and onto the cold concrete slab, finally under the cover of the steel awning and out of the direct path of the rain which was still falling in sheets. The wind continued to gust and swirl around my naked flesh, but my cock remained rock hard and pointed straight ahead.
As I approached Master and the table, I noticed a very heavy looking silver colored metal collar lying on the table, with a heavy gauge chain attached to it. Master picked up the collar, which opened on a hinge next to the point where the chain connected to it, creating two half circles. Master placed the collar around my neck, closing the sides until they met in front with the chain running down behind my back. He then placed a strange looking pin into the collar and used a key to turn and hold the pin in place, before stepping back to admire his work. Despite already being cold and wet, the coldness of the metal collar around my neck, and of the heavy chain lying against my shoulders and back made me shiver involuntarily. The collar was heavy, fitting snugly around my neck but rested on my clavicle's. It was a good two inches wide and about ¾ of an inch thick. I looked down to try to follow the course of the chain, but it snaked under the table and off under the trailer somewhere.
Master then picked up a much smaller gauge steel chain and a small silver padlock. Wrapping it around my neck, he lifted my heavy collar to pass the padlock through the two ends of the chain, fixing it to my neck.
"You will wear my slave chain permanently from this point forward," Master said as he clicked the padlock shut. "You will wear the heavy collar and you will be chained whenever you are here, or at any other time I desire it," he continued.
"Yes, Master," I replied
"Good," Master replied. "Follow me," he ordered as he picked up the camera and turned to walk up the three steps into the closest trailer.
I followed, feeling the tremendous drag of the weight of the chain attached to my neck collar. I had to lean slightly forward, as though fighting against a strong head wind, to drag the grounded part of the chain forward.
Master turned and smiled. "You'll get used to that. To a point where you will actually miss it when it's not there," Master said.
I doubted that, but dutifully replied "Yes, Master," over the noise of the clanking chain as it hit the steel steps leading up to the trailer door.
Master entered, took off his jacket and hung it on a hood just inside the door. He turned and waved me inside the trailer as he walked backwards inside, continuing to film me as I stepped inside. The trailer had a couple of office desks which had clearly seen better days. The walls of the trailer had about a dozen picture frames with various different people shown, and three large posters of some naked women. There was a row of ten large filing cabinets and a couple of electric heaters which kept the trailer pretty warm, considering the chill and winds outside.
Master put the camera on a tripod that was standing just in front of the desk at the opposite end of the trailer to the desk, and waved me over to him. I walked towards him, hearing my wet feel make a splat sound on the linoleum covering on the floor, as water continued to run out of my hair and down my naked flesh in mini rivers and tributaries. I could hear the chain clanking on the stairs outside as I pulled it forward with my hands still firmly cuffed behind my back.
Master pointed to the ground in front of him, and instinctively I knew to kneel before him, just a few steps away from where he sat on the edge of a desk which had a computer, a phone and a desk organizer with pens, paper clips and so on, but not much else. As I got down first on my left knee, then on my right knee, I began to sit back onto my ankles, but Master shook his finger at me to tell me to stop.
"No, no," he said in a firm but friendly way.
"Whenever I point to the ground, you will get on your knees and place your forehead on the ground in the spot I point to. You will remain there until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" Master instructed.
"Yes, Master," I replied. I leaned carefully forward, raising my ass in the air to lower my shoulders and head down to the dirty floor. I felt the chain make contact all the way along my back as I did, before it slid with a loud thump to the floor by my side.
Master slid his left Adidas black training shoe forward and nudged my head with it.
"Lick it, slave," Master commanded.
I had never done this before, but I enjoyed the submissive nature of the command, and with all the rain outside, the trainer was pretty clean. I stuck out my tongue and began licking the felt area on the front of the shoe. It had a unique taste that I could not place, but it was not unpleasant at all. I then worked along the outside edge of the shoe, feeling the shape of the white Adidas stripes, before going over the top of the laces to the inside of the shoe. Master replaced his left trainer with the right and I repeated the process. My tongue was getting dry as I did this, and I had to keep returning it into my mouth to keep it moist.
"In that position, slave," Master said, snapping me out of the concerted effort I was enjoying in licking his trainers. "If I snap my fingers once, you will lift your forehead to my cock," Master commanded, then almost immediately snapped his fingers.
"Yes, Master," I replied as I lifted my torso and fixed my eyes on the fly of his blue jeans. I was a little too far away to put my forehead on his fly, so I had to shuffle forward on my knees to get into the correct position. I nuzzled my forehead onto the rough denim cover of his fly, my nose resting on what I could clearly tell was Masters rigid cock, lying down his left leg just underneath the denim. I felt Masters cock jump a couple of times as I nuzzled my forehead in there, and my own cock jumped and throbbed in excitement.
Master grabbed two large handfuls of hair on either side of my head and thrust his hips forward, forcing my forehead into his crotch and pulling me off balance slightly. He repeatedly thrust his hips, and his engorged cock, against my face about a dozen times before releasing my hair. I remained in position, my forehead locked to his crotch.
I felt Masters hands just above my forehead and realized he was unbuttoning his jeans. I then felt him begin to unzip, as he pushed my head back slightly to allow him to lower the zipper for the full length. Inside the open jeans I saw a pair of black jockey briefs. Master pulled the waistband of his briefs down with his left hand and using his right, he released his beautifully engorged seven inch brown cock with its large uncut off white head which was already leaking pre-cum. I had seen black, white and brown cocks in the showers at school, and skinny dipping at the local reservoir, but I had never been so up close and personal with a raging brown hard-on like this. The lighter color of his head fascinated me, and the fact that he was circumcised intrigued me.
Master grabbed two handfuls of my hair again and pulled my face forward quickly, forcing his rigid shaft into my mouth and down the back of my throat. The suddenness of his head hitting the back of my throat caused me to gag instantly and I flexed my abdomen muscles to try to pull away from his cock. Master held me in place for a brief second before releasing my hair and allowing me to pull away from him. Bile raced up my esophagus and I wretched a mouthful or two out onto the floor before I could recover control. My eyes were filled with tears and I was gasping to catch my breath and slow my heart rate when Master grabbed my hair for a second time and thrust his cock deep into my throat again.
I wretched again, and again threw up a mouthful or two of bile over the floor. Master repeated this process, over and over, holding his cock inside my throat for slightly longer and longer period until I'd thrown up all that I could throw up, but it didn't stop me wretching violently every time his cock head forced its way into my throat. I was so totally focused on trying to catch any breath I could between thrusts and throwing up, that it took me a few moments to realize Master had released my hair and was not forcing his rigid cock passed my lips. My eyes were bleary, filled with tears. My nose was running, and my throat was sore from being invaded and from dry heaving in response to his cock.
I sniffled to clear my nose and throat as best I could and tried to focus on Master. He was staring down at me with a contented smirk on his face. I had sucked Master Hugh's cock many, many times before, but Master Rashid was not only larger in length, his cock was thicker and he was much more forceful in pushing it deep into my throat. I wanted to spit the acrid taste of bile out of my mouth, but instead I swallowed hard, trying to get my salivary glands to start working, to clear the taste from my mouth.
"We'll have to work on your cock sucking skills, slave," said Master.
I felt as though I had failed him, and I had failed Master Hugh who recommended me to Master Rashid. I was still trying to compose myself, but I felt embarrassed and useless. I had fantasized about this meeting all week, and imagined it would be very similar in experience to what I'd enjoyed with Master Hugh. It certainly started out that way, with me stripping naked and throwing my clothes away, then Master Rashid making me walk naked along the road to this scrap yard. I suddenly began to doubt if Master would want to keep me as his slave, his property. He may be so disappointed in my cock sucking skills that he may just send me away now.
"I'm sorry, Master," I said, dejectedly staring at the mess I had left on the floor below me.
Master lifted his solid cock up to expose his balls, which were tight inside the sack with black hair surrounding them.
"Work on these instead," Master commanded, and I shuffled forward through my own mess to reach the two warm orbs with my tongue. I licked each one from underneath all the way up to the start of Masters shaft, feeling the testicle roll around inside the sack. I then worked my tongue between his sack and his muscular light brown thigh, curling it around the back of the sack on each side. I could taste my own bile as I licked, removing what I had deposited earlier. As I moved around his sack, Master was slowly stroking his cock and I'd occasionally feel his knuckles brush my forehead lightly as I licked.
Fortunately, with my mouth open and my tongue working, I had time to catch my breath and slow my breathing down again, which made me feel a little better than before. At least Master seemed to be enjoying my service now and I hoped I was reprieving myself for the mess I'd made of his beautiful balls. I was actually beginning to feel useful and worthwhile again when Master grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head and pulled me away from his cock and balls, pulling my head back until I was looking up into his beautiful smooth face and his dark brown eyes. Master smiled and I smiled back with my mouth open and my tongue still sticking out from my mouth. He suddenly let a large ball of spit drop from his lips straight into my mouth. Instinctively I closed my mouth and tried to turn my head to the side to avoid a repeat, but Master slapped me hard on the side of my face, causing me to snap my head in the opposite direction with my eyes open wide in shock. He smiled and used his other hand to force my lower jaw open, while still holding on to the tuft of hair at the back of my head. He snorted his nose in a very familiar drawing in of air before someone spits, then let go with a large ball of spit directly into my open mouth with a loud "tooogh" sound.
He released my hair and jaw and said simply "Swallow, slave," while his eyes seemed to bore into my very soul. I swallowed his spit and he nodded his head in approval.
"Excellent, slave. Excellent," he repeated. Once again, his praise washed over me and caused a euphoria that seemed to out of place in response to swallowing someone else's spit – yet, I was elated that I had pleased Master. My new Master of only a few hours, whom I had never seen or met before this morning. His treatment was far more extreme than Master Hugh, yet, I was still rock hard and leaking pre-cum. I was stark naked, collared and chained with heavy steel in the middle of a scrap yard with my hands cuffed behind my back. I had been face fucked until I threw up, and I'd just swallowed Masters spit willingly, and I was eager for more. Much more. How far would I go? How far would Master go?
--End
I would love feedback on this story, (or to hear from you if you are a dominant Asian Master lol ) at GWMSUB4DOMGAM@yahoo.com.
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