Disclaimers: The feedback is appreciated and making the writing more enjoyable, thanks! gjtravel1a@BigString.com
As said so often, the usual disclaimers, please read only if you are old enough, enjoy stories about m2m sex, have an interest in a variety of sexual expressions, and abide by whatever laws you choose to live under...
THE TRAIN: Chapter #3
"Listen cumdump, stay exactly there on the floor. You will get further instructions. You move or disobey, you will be punished."
With that, I heard the curtains pulled (mercifully) down over the windows, then the door slide open and closed. I sensed I was alone in the room. A sadness came over me and a longing to be back on my knees in front of my Master. Instead, I sat on the gently rocking train floor, naked, except for my boxers covering my head and my hands tied behind my back with my own belt. Would my Master come back? I could only hope so, but then what...
Though exhausted and emotionally drained, I did not sleep. It was more of a trance as I re-experienced the last hour or so. My sore ass, nipples and balls reminded me of the need to serve my Master fully and quickly. The smell of his cum, now dry and sticking to my skin, drove me mad with desire. My arms began to ache from them being tied behind my back, but I didn't want to disobey my Master's instructions. I feared less about the potential punishment he had mentioned if he came back and I had worked my hands free than the fact that I feared that he might just abandon me if he came back and I had disobeyed him. It felt very weird to be more worried about wanting a guy ( a guy no less) to come back to use and abuse me for his pleasure than about me getting free and setting a trap to fuck the shit out of him upon his (hoped for) return. Really, really weird.
The door must have opened quietly for whether in my dazed state or the noise from a railroad crossing we had passed blocked the sound, I did not hear him enter. I jumped as hands moved around my face. Without removing the boxers from my head, he reached under them and pealed my underwear from my cum-dried face and hair. I could make out a form through the cloth, but I dared not speak. My cock, which had been hard while I had been reflecting on what had just happened, shrank with fear at the stealth of his return. Once I realized he was back, my cock began to grow again and my aching nipples became erect. Damn, I was a bitchboy...
Once the underwear was free from being glued to my head, the hands briefly went away. A mask, like those sleeping masks they give on a plane, was slid up under my `underwear mask' and put securely over my eyes. The boxers were slid off my head. I was now in total darkness. Fear began to creep up from the pit of my stomach and reached up to make the hair stand up on the back of my neck. The hands slid back down my chest and grazed my nipples. I couldn't help myself and let out a mild groan, then flinched slightly fearing I had displeased him making this noise. His fingers came back and gently stroked them both again. This pleasure sent me back to being totally his bitch, fear or not. Damn, was I really this easy?
Moaning in this new masked darkness and rocking gently as the train rolled down the track, I began to relax into a state of pleasure. Something was different though. Just as I was beginning to concentrate on his fingers, they changed from a gentle rubbing to him grabbing the tip of each nipple and twisting them as far as he could make them go. As my mouth fell open, he released my left nipple and popped a round rubber ball into my mouth. I coughed and instinctively tried to push it out. Using my right nipple as a leaver, he twisted my body and pulled me over onto my stomach. With my hands still bound, he ground my face into the smelly carpet and put his knee into the middle of my back pushing me further into the floor. Thus imprisoned, he locked the gag into place. I was twisting and turning, that is until he grabbed a handful of balls, my balls to be precise, and began to twist them like he had my nipples. I convulsed in pain and stopped moving. I breathed into the pain for a moment in order to focus and then panic swept over me.
Those fingers, those damn fingers were not from my Master. As I lay there terrified, panting like a newly caged wild animal, I realized I didn't smell my Master's musty, musky odor. It smelled of food and sweat. My new jailer smelled like the dining car!!! Was he one of the passengers who had seen me parading up and down the aisle during dinner? The man now abusing my balls was not my Master! Was this someone my Master had sent or did some guy see us and decide to play with the bondage boy alone in the room. I couldn't stop the scream for help, but it only came out muffled. The man must have realized that I had figured out the change, for he laughed an evil laugh. No pity, just power and condescension. The fucktoy I had become was truly fucked.
There must have been a pack beside us that he brought with him for I detected some rustling. He seemed to have found some thin rawhide string in the pack and began to tie it tightly around my balls and began to pull. He either put the rawhide in his teeth or tied it to the chair, for my balls stayed tightly pulled away from my body even when both his hands were putting cuffs on my ankles. I began to struggle. That is when actual pain began. He hit my bound balls hard twice. I felt like I would vomit, but it stopped my struggle. I kept breathing into the pain in a desperate attempt to make it stop. Gradually, I realized my legs were locked together at the ankles and he had risen enough to move my bound hands. Before he removed the belt, the son-of-a-bitch was putting cuffs on my wrists. I was in too much pain to stop him. I heard the lock clip. The belt was removed from my hands and a rope began snaking around my ankle and wrist cuffs. It was pulled very, very tight. The rawhide string was pulled and apparently tied off to my ankle. Being from Texas, I knew what this was...I was hogtied and it was by some stranger. What the fuck had I gotten myself into. You really are a stupid, stupid, stupid fuck...
I lay there a few moments, blindfolded, gagged, hogtied and royally fucked.
In that moment, a wave of revulsion and panic swept over me. Those fingers and that smell. They really weren't the Master's, they were that damn, smart-ass waiter. I could just imagine that idiot looking down at me and smirking. Wait a moment, I am calling him an idiot...who was standing there with all the power and who was tied up like a prize hog...who was the real idiot? I knew utter defeat at that moment. It was like something broke inside me. I wasn't the Master's bitchboy, I was just a common bitchboy for even the likes of that smartass. It was at then that I felt an explosion of emotions. I started to yell through the gag, writhe on the floor, and desperately try to get free. After several minutes, I began to exhaust myself and slow my sweating body's convulsions down. I heard him laughing and laughing his ass off at me and my helplessness. My anger and frustration broke down again and I lay there, defeated and servile. What a cunt I must look like to him.
As I lay there gasping for air, his laughing subsided.
That awful, familiar voice saying, "Figure it out twinkle toes? Thought we were going to lose you when you so `gracefully' bounded out of the dining car this evening. Let's see, how many people laughed at you being such a clumsy oaf running like a little cuntboy after its Master? Let's see, everyone I would say in the dining car laughed. It made for a great deal of talk after you left. God, you were such a stupid transparent git."
My body burned with embarrassment. Whether everyone did laugh or not, I could just imagine it and could see what a hungry, lusting fool I had been. Tripping over my own feet. Damn, I was such a stupid, fucking bitchboy.
"Let's see how you look in this slavedog." With that, he pulled my head up by my hair with one hand and slipped a thick leather collar around my throat. He let go of my hair and my head dropped with a thud back on the carpet. This got a chuckle out of `waiter-boy' and a sense of hatred for him grew in me. How dare he pretend to be my Master! God, what if my true Master wants me to suck this fuck's cock, or worse.
I came back to reality as the collar nearly choked me while it was being fitted around my throat. He stood up and I swear to god I heard a camera shuttle click. I nearly pissed on myself with this image. I was ruined. What would they do with pictures? Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! I had to get free and stop him. This brought on a renewed struggle, but it was useless and only brought laughter from that fuck.
He reached down and walloped my still sore ass several times with some sort of a paddle. It felt like those hazing days back in college, but this time, there was more menace with each thwack than back at the dorm. Stopping the beating, he rolled me over on my side and said, "H'mm, not quite yet." He dropped back on my stomach and proceeded to wallop me even more. The process repeated itself several more times. Finally, he rolled me over completely on my back. It was uncomfortable. I tried to arch myself so that I was not putting pressure on my very sore ass.
I couldn't at first figure out what he was doing playing with my cock and balls, but I realized he had been whipping my ass to make my cock shrink. What a dumbfuck I was! Here I was tied up by a man I despised, gagged, collared, blindfolded, and while he was tearing up my ass with a paddle, my cock had been engorged. Now that it had finally shrunk, he was putting some sort of cage over my cock. It deserved to be locked away for my cock is what got me into all of this in the first place. If only I hadn't wanted to plough the blonde's ass so badly, I wouldn't be here now. Shit, shit, shit, every time I think about the blonde, I feel less and less regret over being in this mess and more and more excitement. I have to get free or I will become a bitchboy permanently.
Waiterboy worked my cock into some sort of plastic cage. The lock clicked and I sensed access to my cock was no longer in my control. I loved jerking off at least twice a day. How could I with it bound up like that? There was so much I was in the process of learning.
The next thing I felt was some sort of heavy metal ring being clamped around my balls. My balls had to be pulled down in order to make it fit and then it at first caught some of my pubic hair. It finally snapped shut, I heard the lock click, and it felt like something was trying to pull my balls off my body. After a few moments, I heard a camera shutter...
"Now listen fuckface, when I remove your gag and mask, you will stay quiet and keep your eyes closed, or so help me, I will put the rawhide back around your balls and hang you from the ceiling by them. Do you understand cumdump?" All I could do was grunt. I couldn't imagine hanging by my balls and I didn't doubt he would do it.
As the gag came off, I stretched my jaw, the freedom felt wonderful. Was the ordeal over?
I kept my eyes tightly shut as the mask slid off. If felt great, but almost as quickly, I felt what I first thought was a bag begin to be worked over my head. I heard my Master's dried cum crinkling in my hair as whatever it was was worked over my head. The smell of leather burst into my nostrils. He was putting a leather mask over my face! I started to struggle, but remembered the promise about being hung by my balls and stopped. Waiterboy laughed and said, "Good doggy." I went even more crimson, but wanted to kick myself for feeling happy at the praise. Happy at praise from him!
As he fitted the mask snugly over my face, I began to get lost in the erotic smell of leather. There were no eyeholes and only a small breathing hole. The mask laced behind my head. He pulled it very tight and I felt my face becoming one with the leather. Breathing took concentration. Before he did his final tightening, he slapped my balls hard. My mouth stretched wide, but the cry of pain was blocked by the insertion of a gag. As I worked it over in my mouth and with my tongue, I realized it was shaped like a penis. I shuddered when I realized I had begun to mentally compare it to the penis my Master had used in raping my mouth earlier this evening. Damn him, couldn't he just ask me to open my mouth? I suppose that would have taken his fun away', so I better get use to this form of request'. How long could my balls take it?
The mask was fitted tightly around my face. The darkness and sense of separation was intense. The leather muffled outside sounds and my breathing was restricted. The penis gag, much to my personal disgust, made me long for my blonde Master's beautiful cock down my throat. What a cumdump I was becoming...
There I lay at the feet of waiterboy, helpless and defeated. I went even more crimson as I thought I heard through the leather mask the sound of the camera clicking again and again... Could it get any worse????