Storm Discovery, Part FOURTEEN - The REAL Discovery
bamaboi2serve@charter.net
The weekend with the Germans ended so abruptly that I worried I had failed to satisfy them! One minute I was there in the loft being abused along with their homeboy Berlin slaveboi for their amusement, the next I was in the trunk of their Mustang, headed back to Master.
Nothing they said to me or among themselves gave me any clues, but a lot of the time they spoke in their native tongue, and I spoke no German other than "yes and no", which had been burned into me during their training.
I was sore, filthy, naked, hogtied, and frankly exhausted, but still concerned. Would Master be displeased with me?
When the car came to a stop, I was surprised to see that we were not at Master's farmhouse outside Atlanta, but at a Spa in a downtown strip mall, one Master had FS and I go to before for special treatments. It was early Sunday morning, and there was only one car in the parking lot.
Sirs manhandled me out of the trunk, loosened my hogtie bonds, cuffed my hands behind me with heavy blask prison-style restraints, and dragged me up to the spa door where they knocked.
The owner, a man I recognized from earlier trips, answered. As he greeted Sirs, Verner (Sir!) put his hands on my shoulders and forced me to my knees. He unzipped the leather pants he was wearing and presented his cock to me, which I immediately engulfed to the pubes.
The owner wasn't fazed at all...traffic was light this time of day, after all. I started sucking on Verner's long cock and it immediately started hardening, standing out like a light pole in a nest of jet black shrubbery. As the conversation continued, he grabbed my head by my ears and used my mouth as a sex toy, pounding his now fully erect cock in and out over and over, cumming in a matter of just a minute or so, filling my mouth with his man seed. As he had trained me, I did not swallow, but held my mouth open for him so he could see his load sitting in mouth.
Schmidt (Sir!) then spit into me, and both other men did the same. Soon I was filled with cum and spit. The only thing missing, I thought was...the spa owner then pulled out his cock and added the missing ingredient, pissing in my mouth, which almost immediately filled to overflowing and started spilling onto my chest and down to my jockstrap covered cock, which had reacted to the abuse in the predictable way: I was hard and increasingly horny. I had not been allowed to cum all weekend and was bursting!
"OK Shit for brains slut boi, here's your chance, now that you have some lube on your puny little boi penis. You have thirty seconds to cum...go," Schmidt ordered.
I immediately grabbed my cock and started pumping, and Verner immediately kicked the hand...
"We didn't say you could use your hands slut...start over...thirty seconds...go!"
My first thought was to hump his long leather-clad leg, dog-like, but I knew he wouldn't approve...so I did the only think left, I lay flat on the hot sidewalk and rubbed my cock through the jockstrap cloth against the concrete. The tip quickly peeked out from the top, causing me to scrape the skin some, but I was enjoying both the heat and the roughness...I had a full ten seconds left when I shot a huge jet of cum into the space between my stomach and the sidewalk, a second jet followed and a third...it was easily the best orgasm I had had in months.
Through it all I had kept my mouth closed tight to retain the mouthful of cum and spit and piss from the Masters and the spa owner.
That presented me with a slave dilemma. My mouth was full and I did not have permission to empty it, yet my training told me to immediately lick up the jism I had spilled on the sidewalk.
I returned to my knees and opened my mouth to show them I had at least been obedient that way. The Sirs laughed, mocking me, calling me by my marked name..."Oral Slave"... and made a big deal of getting me to swallow it all on a count of ten. They were showing off for the spa guy. Several times they stopped and started the countdown again, spitting in and at me to keep the supply of foul liquid "fresh"...finally they both yelled "TEN" together and I swallowed the entire load, breathing heavily though my mouth.
Remember all of this was occurring OUTSIDE the spa, on the sidewalk. Several times cars drove past and I could only guess what they were thinking.
As soon as I had finished emptying my mouth, I dropped to all fours and started licking my cum off the concrete...not the easiest task I'll tell you! The cum was congealed at this point, some it dried to the pavement, so it took some real tongue work to get it up.
Since I was on all fours with my ass in the air, Schmidt (Sir!) gave me a half dozen smacks on each cheek, leaving his hand imprint as a parting gift...said goodbye to the Spa guy and got into their car and left, heading back home to Germany. As they drive off, I could see their homeboi slave cunt in the back seat, wearing a fierce looking slave mask and heavy collar that I presumed they would remove before flying home.
The spa Master, I was to call him Master Morris, took me inside and directed me to a bathtub he had filled with hot water. He wasn;t rough in handling or ordering me around, more like someone who was telling a household servant how to perform a chore. Aloof, but not mean.
I spent the afternoon at the spa getting cleaned up. Even Master Morris had slaves, and two of them took care of my body shaving and washing, After the weekend of abuse, I felt like a king. When I was done, Master Morris collected a blow job as a tip...and I made sure he was well blown! Then to the front door and there was FS, smirking at me, dressed in slave leather, come to take me "home".
He didn't say much on the way home, but uncharacteristically let me sit in the front seat with him. He turned on a jazz station, also unusual for FS, who leaned toward redneck rock or country. Several times I glanced over at him, but he ignored me, and soon we were back at Master's Farm.
I was surprised to see a large number of cars parked outside in a field. FS grabbed a heavy slave collar and wrapped it around my neck...then placed a very heavy leather mask with a cock gag in it over my head. He left the eye openings clear so I could see, but no speak. I was still wearing the brand new yellow jock strap the spa owner had given me. My chest was uncovered, allowed my OS tattoo to be exposed next to FS's marking.
Attaching a chain leash to my collar, he urged me toward the door. Inside all was quiet. Nobody was in the tall ceiling room, and we made our way to the last door in the long hallway...from behind it I could hear a murmer, and I knew immediately it was the same room where I had been tortured before my former co-workers.
FS opened the door and pulled me in. The curtain was closed as before, and Master was standing waiting for me, his beautiful dark skin shining in the dim backstage light. He was in his full Master Leather outfit and looked stunning.
"Hello slut," he said, "welcome home! Tonight's the night you meet your new Master. I've sold you!"
I almost blacked out from shock, but not quite. Then the curtain opened to a huge crowd and a spotlight hit me as FS led me to the center of the stage and a St. Andrews cross.
The end has arrived, my friends. The final chapter is next. Thanks to those who had written with encouragement and suggestions. I hope you will find the end satisfying!
Bamaboi2serve@charter.net