This story is intended for readers 18 and older. Everyone in this story is 18 or older. This story depicts several risky or dangerous acts. Readers should remember to always play safe and legal.
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Want A Slave? Chapter 2
I woke up to a sharp kick. As my eyes worked their way open, I was trying to work out where I was and what was going on. Another kick hit my stomach as I began to sit up and look around.
"Wake up, slave," I heard from above. Without thinking I looked up to see who said that, and then I felt a kick to my head. As I was knocked back down to the floor, everything came back to me. I'd come over to serve as a slave for Rob, a guy I'd been friends and worked with in college. He'd chained me by the balls to the oven and left me to clean the kitchen floor after he'd pissed on it. I'd worked for about two hours licking up piss, dirt and grime off the floor, all while my balls were being tugged and tortured by the chain around them. After I'd finished my cleaning and unloaded the dishwasher, I'd lain down on the floor to wait. After another hour or so, my eyes began to droop, and I must have fallen asleep waiting for his return.
"I swear to god if you look in my eyes one more time I'm gonna fucking beat you bloody, fag," Rob said as I got back to a seated position. "And who told you you could take a nap? I didn't, all I gave you permission to do was finish your chores. Lie back down on your fat belly and spread your arms and legs, bitch."
I scrambled back down and spread out with my feet facing him. Being in this position made me feel extremely exposed to the man who was towering over me, casting a shadow from the overhead lights. I heard him take a few steps forward and then I felt the weight of his shoes on the bottom of each of my legs.
"If I hear so much as a peep out of you during this, your trial is over, and you will never serve me," Rob said as he began walking, well really more like stomping, up my legs. When he reached my ass, he began to balance on it, kneading it like dough. The treads of the shoes were really digging in now, causing me to grit my teeth to stay quiet. Suddenly, Rob stomped down hard on my right cheek, causing my body to jerk up violently.
"Stay still, fag. I don't like my carpet to squirm or move," he said.
He repeated the action with my left butt cheek, and I strained my muscles to keep myself from moving much. As Rob moved further up my back, I began to feel my balls being crushed underneath me. The metal links in the chain were starting to dig into my flesh, causing even more pain that I was forced to keep silent. Luckily, Rob moved up and pivoted, riding my back like a skateboard.
"Not bad, boy. I expected you to have at least groaned by now," he said. "Turn your head to the side and put it flat against the floor."
I started to panic. I couldn't imagine how I'd be able to hold Rob's weight on my head; even if I did, surely it would cause some damage to my ears, nose or more. I was about to raise my head to beg him not to trample my face when he jumped and landed hard on my back, knocking the wind out of me.
"Damn, I thought for sure that would get you to scream," he said. "Looks like you finally learned to do what I say. That's good, fag."
Rob began walking back down my body, and once again stopped and kneaded my ass with his shoes. After a few minutes of that, he stepped off me completely, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I figured I had passed this test or survived the punishment. I wasn't really sure which this was, but I was grateful it was done.
"Now it's time for the front," Rob said. "Turn over. And go ahead and close your eyes since you can't be trusted not to look up at me."
I nearly broke down there. The first trampling had been so rough that I wasn't sure I'd be able to survive another. But even as I had these thoughts of calling it quits and begging, I flipped over, spread out again and closed my eyes tight. Rob started the same way as before, slowly walking on my shins followed by my thighs. I really had to bite my tongue as he did. For some reason it hurt so much more from this side.
As he reached my groin, I realized what was next. I gasped as I felt a shoe touch my dick and balls. I instinctively tensed up and braced myself for the hit, but it didn't come. Instead, I heard Rob starting laughing.
"You look so pathetic, bitch. You should of seen how much your body started to shake. And I was just barely touching your dicklet," he said still chuckling. "Don't worry, I don't wanna damage my property while still on the test drive. But those balls will feel real pain if you do pass and become mine, got it?"
Even with the promise of future pain, my heart soared knowing that my dick and balls were spared this time. I didn't have long to feel happiness though as Rob continued his trek up my body, stomping hard into my stomach and chest. Again he twisted and stood on me like a skateboard, but this time he ground his shoes in deep over and over, causing what felt like an extremely intense carpet burn all over my stomach and chest. I had to fight back tears as the treads of his shoes moved my skin like it was meat. He jumped up and down a few times, knocking the wind out of me over and over.
Finally, he stepped off my body and stopped using me as a rug. I heard him take some steps toward my head, but I didn't dare open my eyes to see what was going on. I did realize that the lighting outside my closed eyes wasn't as bright as it had been. I also smelled leather, and then I realized why.
"Now I want you to thank my shoes for teaching you not to nap without permission," Rob said. "Give this one twenty good kisses and ten good licks and then I'll let you thank the left shoe. You can open your eyes, but look only at the shoe you're showing gratitude to."
I slowly opened my eyes only to be greeted by the black sole of a leather boot. I realized now why they had caused me so much pain, the rubber treads were angular and looked like flattened spikes spread apart. Without hesitating I went to work and started planting kisses randomly on the sole. After I counted to twenty, I started at the heel and began licking my way to the toe. My tongue dried out quickly, but I continued on, adjusting to the taste of rubber rather easily after having licked a variety of different surfaces already today.
When I finished my tenth lick, Rob put his right boot down on my face almost like a love pat and switched to the other. As he was lowering the left shoe, I saw that there was some sort of gunk stuck in the treads, taking up about a third of the shoe. I knew I couldn't really just avoid it, so I started my kisses there, making them as short as possible. When I started licking, I did my best to avoid it, but Rob must have noticed because he moved the shoe and told me to lick the other side of the sole. As I ran my tongue across the gunk, I practically gagged. I wasn't sure what the black gunk was, but it tasted worse than anything I'd ever had on my tongue. Luckily I only had to pass over it once before I got another love tap and the shoe was removed.
Rob walked over to the oven and undid the chain. He order me to get on all fours, and I assumed the position. He began looping the chain around my neck multiple times. As he neared the end of the chain my balls began to get pulled up toward my neck. Rob locked the newly made collar in a position that wasn't comfortable, but didn't leave me in immense pain in my balls. As he was standing back up, he flicked my balls and grinned.
"A collar looks pretty good on you, boy," he said. "Now crawl into the living room and kneel next to the couch like a good little slave."
When I got to the couch, I knelt on the left side and waited for more instructions. My dick was hard since it was being slowly tugged by the chain as I crawled along the apartment. Rob had headed back down the hallway, and I saw him enter a room to the left past the bathroom. I saw now that there was a second room across from that one, but the door was closed so I couldn't see inside it. As he came back out, Rob was only wearing boxers now and seemed to be walking with a kind swagger that I imagine you only get while dominating another guy. He sighed as he relaxed into the couch, and then patted my head as he flipped on the tv. It felt good to be patted like an animal. It was the only sign of positive feedback I'd received so far, so I beamed with pride for minutes after his hand left my head.
"So, fag, you've done good so far, but I definitely see lots of room for improvement," Rob said after the show he was watching finished. "Before we talk about the future, I want you to go get me two beers out of the fridge and carry them back. And make it fast. If I don't have a beer in my hand by the time the next show starts, your ass is gonna regret it."
I headed off quickly to the kitchen, crawling the whole way. As I reached the fridge, Rob shouted that I couldn't use my hands to bring the beers back. That caught me off guard and I paused for a bit trying to work out how I'd do this. I opened the fridge and saw the six pack of bottled beer. I reached in and grabbed one with my teeth, turning my head sideways to grab the neck. I set it on the ground next to the fridge and repeated it with another bottle. The further inside the fridge I stretched my head, the more the chain on my balls was pulled.
With both bottles on the floor, I tried to fit them in my mouth to carry, but I couldn't keep them from not slipping. I didn't want to risk breaking them, so I decided to put one under each arm. It took some awkward bending, but I was able to put one beer between each arm and start crawling back.
"Too late, fag," Ross shouted, and I looked up at the tv to see the next program had started. "Go ahead and bring them here and we'll deal with your slowness later."
When I reached Rob he made no effort to grab a beer so I did some more body yoga and set each down slowly. With my teeth I lifted one of the bottles to his hand, and he grabbed it.
"Turn around and put your ass up in the air," he said. After I got in this position I felt the cold metal of the bottle's cap on my right butt cheek. In one motion he twisted it off, using my body fat as leverage to open the bottle.
"Well look at that, fag, there is a use for your fat ass after all," he said. "Now get back in position."
I knelt back beside the couch, this time with Rob using my head as an armrest and table for his beer. It felt good to have any physical contact with him. I had been through so much already, but these few minutes with his arm resting on me were making it all worth it.
Once the program ended, Rob turned off the tv and told me he needed a bottle opener. I put my head down and ass up just like last time, and once again I was used as his object. I also felt something cold touch my hole, and before I could process what was happening, it was shoved inside.
"There, now hold that empty bottle while we continue our chat," Rob said. "If you do well and listen, I won't force the other bottle up next to that one when I'm finished."
The thought of being double penetrated by glass beer bottles was painful, but my dick was hard. I was hoping it was from the bottle in my ass hitting the prostate, but for all I knew I subconsciously like the idea of being fucked with two bottles. I could see precum starting to drip from my dick and knew I would be in trouble later for dirtying up the floor. Rob place both his legs on my ass and rested his feet on my slanted back. The warm feeling of his skin on mine only further exasperated my hard-on and ensured the precum factory would stay open.
"So despite your constant fuck ups, I've decided I want to offer you the chance to be mine, boy," Rob said casually. "Now I want you to keep quiet as I tell you about your potential new life."
My heart started racing and I felt nerves in my stomach as Rob began to tell me about a slave life I had always imagined. Rob works out of town for at least two weeks out of the month. When he's gone, I would be responsible for coming to the apartment, cleaning it as ordered and providing proof to him. He also would have other tasks or visitors that would help keep me in line when he's out of town.
When he was in town, I was to be within driving distance at all time in case he had need of me. Sometimes I would be kept at his place like a live-in slave, other times I would only be called to perform a quick task and be sent on my way. My duties would range from simple domestic work to being used as a cum dump to acting as an object for Rob to abuse and humiliate. While in his service, I would never be allowed to orgasm, and I would have to ask permission for most things, including going to the bathroom.
In the middle of explaining things to me, Rob pulled his legs off me and grabbed me by the hair. He told me to open wide and shoved the other glass bottle in my mouth. I had to fight my gag reflex when he first shoved it in, but when I was allowed to put my head back down, I wiggled the bottle out enough that it didn't cause me to retch.
It was strange sitting there as a footstool while impaled from both sides by glass. I felt strangely turned on, but also slightly ashamed and disappointed. I wanted so badly for one of the objects in my mouth or ass to be Rob's dick, but he seemed to know that and tormenting me by withholding it. I didn't have long to reflect on my status as a bottle holder because Rob quickly continued talking about his expectations of a slave.
Rob warned me that there would be times I would be exposed or have to submit in public. He also said that I would be seen in my slave role by others, but he promised to keep me safe and out of legal trouble. I also would be expected to go with Rob on trips from time to time for some extra training and service in an outside place.
As his slave, I would not be allowed to serve or have sexual contact with any other people. Rob also told me that the same rule did not apply to him, and he would be enjoying the company of whomever he wanted, sometimes even in my presence. Rob also told me I would be expected to worship his body, take any bodily fluids he desires and be responsible for his personal grooming when he was in town. Rob promised to respect any official limits I give him, but he would ask that I divide into never (extremely hard limits), hopefully not (hard limits that he might be able to push) and please not (soft limits he could push) so that he could help me grow as a slave.
The entire time I was listening to Rob, my dick was pumping out precum like it was piss. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this hard. And it wasn't just my dick that was responding positively to what he was saying, my mind and heart were soaring with the thought of finally being able to spend my life in a position of servitude. As scary as some of his demands and rules sounded, I was completely ready to jump at this offer.
As his slave, Rob also would have full control over my looks, clothing and activities. He promised to never do anything to cause issues with friends, family or work, but warned me that he would still use his control to constantly remind me of my place in the world. He also told me that permanent markings or piercings may be required for his slaves, but he did not have any immediate plans for any.
There were a lot of other little things that Rob went on to talk about with me. He also let me discuss some of my concerns or desires after removing the bottles from my mouth and ass. After about an hour and a half of talking, he told me to take the bottles to the trash and then crawl down the hallway to the door on the right. As he got up, he shoved the bottles back in me, this time in the opposite holes so there was a slight taste of ass and shit as I crawl into the kitchen to drop off the bottles.
When I entered the room down the hall, I looked around in curiosity. Half of the room looked like a normal office with desk, chair, bulletin board and filing cabinet. The other half of the room had a plastic dog transporter, saw horses, some ropes and a few various kinky items.
"Don't worry, slave," Rob said after he saw me looking around. "If you agree to be mine, I'm sure you'll have some extra motivation to buy us some real equipment, right? Now get under the desk face up while I hammer out this thing."
I wasn't sure what exactly he was referring to, but I crawled past the leather rolling chair and stretched out under the desk. As I was laying down, I realized that stretching my body would mean my balls are further from my neck, causing the chain to pull even harder. Once I was down flat, my balls looked obscene since the chain was causing them to stand at a ninety degree angle. I also was struggling to contain the pain and was breathing rapidly to try and cope. Eventually I adjusted or my body numbed the new pain because I was able to fully lay back, straight as a board.
Shortly after I got settled in, Rob's feet were on my face. I assumed that meant he wanted me to lick them like I had before, so my tongue and his foot made contact. Instantly, his other foot had smashed into my balls, causing me to howl in pain and reach down to protect them.
"How many motherfucking times do I have to tell you to only do something if you're ordered to?" he shouted. "Now move those fucking hands, your balls are gonna get four more kicks to teach you the lesson once and for all."
I slowly moved my hands and braced for another kick, but it didn't come. After a few minutes of hearing Rob type and work on the computer, I assumed he'd changed his mind about the kicking. Just as I was starting to relax again, his foot made contact with my balls. I screamed in pain and tears began to stream down my cheeks.
"Shut the fuck up, fag," he said. "There's still three more where that came from and every time you scream I'll add another."
True to his word, Rob kicked my bruised nuts three more times at random intervals. I did make a noise on the final one, which resulted in an additional swift quick as punishment. After all the kicks were dished out, he put my feet back on my face and continued working. Occasionally he'd reposition his feet or start tapping on my face to the beat of a silent song. He even moved his right foot down to my neck and put some pressure on it once, I'm sure as a reminder of how much power he had over me at that moment. Although I don't think I could have forgotten if I tried.
I heard the printer start up and some papers come out of it. Rob then got up, went over to the plastic dog transporter and opened it up. He threw the papers inside and whistled to me.
"Get on in, boy. This is your home for the night. I want you to read those papers and I'll expect an answers in the morning," Rob said.
I got up and started crawling to the cage, which looked way too small for me. But I didn't argue and as soon as my feet were in, the door was closed behind me. I saw Rob put a padlock on it. Then, He went over to the desk and pulled the laptop off it, bringing it over to me.
"I'm gonna leave this on the ground so you can use the light from it to read tonight. You are not to touch it, no matter what, understand, bitch," Rob said. I told him I understood, and he clicked a few buttons, turned out the lights and closed the door on his way out.
I looked at the computer screen, but it was just a blank white screen shining. I picked up the papers from behind me and pulled them close to the screen so I could read them. In large bold font at the top it read "SLAVE CONTRACT." I eagerly began reading through the multiple page document. A lot of the clauses were things Rob had already told me about, but there were other things, like the fact that I would pay for any expenses when Rob and I were in public, or that my level of body hair from eyebrows to toe hair would be determined by him.
In the middle of reading, the light from the computer dimmed. I worried it was dying, but when I looked at it, it had turned to screensaver mode. The screensaver was a slideshow of images, and it didn't take me long to realize what the theme was. Each picture was of Rob, and I sat and stared for who knows how long as photos of this god-like man scrolled past. Not every photo included his face, but the body parts in the slideshow were obviously his. I could easily tell, especially the feet.
I realized during my thinking that this slideshow was Rob's way of showing me why he's in charge. His physical perfection combined with dominant attitude is why he has an older man caged up nude reading a slave contract. Some men are just meant to be served, and these photos proved he was one of those mne.
After I finished reading the contract, I tried to get comfortable in the transporter. It wasn't really possible, but I did find the position that was the least uncomfortable and still allowed me to watch the screen. As I drifted off to sleep, my mind was assaulted with a never ending stream of photos of the man I'd decided to serve for as long as he'll let me. It was just a matter of putting the pen to paper now. I could hardly wait until the morning.
I hope you enjoyed the second chapter of my tale. If there is enough interest in seeing the slave contract that Mike read, I will provide it as part of a future chapter. This chapter tried to cover the big parts of it, but, like any contract, there were numerous details spelled out that were not covered here.
I am always open to receiving comments at alwaysserving@outlook.com.
Many more chapters are in the works.