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Want A Slave? Chapter 5
NOTE: My email has changed to kinkyinga@gmail.com. Also, if you like this story, check out my BDSM fantasy blog www.kinkyinga.tumblr.com for more things like this.
With only my phone, wallet and keys I ran toward the open stairwell, darting my head back and forth hoping no one was outside and would see a chubby naked man with welts all over his body. Luckily, there didn't seem to be anyone outside their apartments on Sir's floor, so I made it to the stairs without being seen.
I paused for a second, realizing then just how fast my heart was now pounding in my chest, and I strained my ears to hear below. The last thing I wanted to do was go down a set of stairs only to find people staring at my exposed body. During that short pause, my mind was racing just as fast as my heart. I couldn't believe that Sir would throw my clothes over the balcony for simply putting on my underwear. I know the contract said I couldn't wear any, but the ink was practically still drying on it. I was feeling a bit betrayed as I took off again, reaching the ground level without being spotted.
I looked to the left and saw my clothes had scattered in some shrubs against the building. I scanned the parking lot, only seeing some guys playing volleyball in the distance, and I took off again. I practically dove behind the bush that had my shirt on top of it. I felt the small branches and leaves scrape against my already abused body as I pushed back to the apartment's wall.
I hastily scrambled to put my shirt on, desperate for any thread of clothing I could get. Once my top half was covered, I looked closer and saw a shoe was within arm's reach. I grabbed it and began slowly lumbering through the bushes looking for the others clothing.
I found my other shoe, but still couldn't find my shorts. As I was looking around again, I heard the sound of people approaching. I froze in fear, unsure of what exactly to do. I was sitting in the bushes wearing only a t-shirt, holding my shoes and other items in my hand. I decided to squat down a bit and try to hide behind my current bush of choice. As I was doing that, five guys walked by laughing and joking around. I held my breath as they passed, not even wanting to exhale for fear of exposure.
Eventually they turned the corner, and my eyes spotted my blue shorts only about eight feet away. However, they were on the curb of the sidewalk, so I would have to leave my sheltered position to grab them. I hesitated for a minute, taking the time to put my shoes back on, leaving me only pantsless. I looked around and sprinted to the curb, grabbing the shorts and running back into the bush. I glanced about, hoping no one saw my obscene state of dress. I pulled on the shorts, and let out a deep breath. I stood still for a minute letting my heart rate and breathing return to normal levels
I put my phone, wallet and keys in my pockets and then pushed down my hair, trying to look a little less disheveled. Those last however-many minutes of scrounging around for my clothes had been some of the most terrifying in my life. I was so relieved that no one, to my knowledge, had seen what had transpired. With a sense of relief, I headed for my car.
As I got closer to the Honda I noticed something didn't look right. I couldn't tell from the distance, but it looked like a newspaper or something was on my side and rear windows. About 15 feet away, I stopped in my tracks as I saw that words were written all over my windows. On the passenger side windows in green letters was "Ask me to deep throat." I jogged over to the car to see what the other windows had. On the rear bright pink letters screamed "I'm a faggot!" The driver side window had a cock drawn on it and the words "Will suck dick for free." The window behind that said "Foot licker."
I stood there at a loss for words when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. As I pulled it out, the screen lit up with a message from a contact named SIR.
"Do you like your present, fag? Felt your car was kind of plain before. Don't remove it," the message said.
Now it all made sense. As I was cleaning and Sir was out, he must have come and added the painted words to my car. And judging by the timing of the message, he was watching my reaction as I realized what had happened. I looked up at his balcony, but couldn't' see anything but the table and chair that were on it. I sent Sir back a text telling him thank you, but I doubt he thought it sincere gratitude.
Resigned to my new car decor, I unlocked it and headed back home. During the drive, I got a few honks and strange looks from passing cars, which only made me blush and cringe inside. There's no way I could leave this stuff on and take my car to work. I just had to hope Sir was going to let me remove it before then. If he wasn't, I knew I could invoke the safeword and tell him it's got to go. But I figured stressing about this was a waste of energy, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. I had to have some trust in Sir and his promise to keep my slave life private.
When I got back home, I headed straight for a shower. I felt like I was covered in grime, sweat and tears in addition to the bruises and marks from my two punishments. The warm water felt good on my tortured skin, and I zoned out for a bit before finally getting out and drying off. My phone was lit up with multiple messages, all from Sir. The first was a link that I clicked on and opened. There I saw at least 50 or so pictures of me from the past 24 hours, including a few shots of me running for my shorts outside. There also was a video that Sir recorded during and after my punishments.
I checked Sir's next message after quickly looking through the photos.
"Those are private, but go through them one at a time and reflect on your training. Also watch the video back," the message read.
"After that, get online and order at least five things from a sex or bondage site for training. I want you to decide based on how hard your dick gets thinking about the item used on you. Send them to my place," the next message said.
I was a bit conflicted. After all I had been through, the last thing I wanted to do was re-live it in photos. I just wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep. I really didn't want to process the weight of what had just happened to me and how I had agreed willingly to become the slave of a man I was once friends with. But I didn't want to piss off Sir either. I knew he was expecting a response, so I told him I would do as he ordered.
I sat on my couch with my laptop and pulled up the link Sir had sent. It seemed to be a private dropbox, so I felt a little better that no one but Sir and myself could see these. As I went through the photos, seeing visually how my service looked from Sir's point of view, my dick grew hard once again.
I also felt like my brain was going back to whatever mode it was in when I was at Sir's house licking things clean. I felt my thoughts float away as I just sat and looked at the photos of me as a slave. I had no worries, no fears, nothing in my mind. All I was focusing on was my service.
I finally hit the end of the photos and began to watch the punishment video. This was harder to watch since every whack and drop of wax that fell on my body in the video made that same spot ache on my actual body. It was as if I was being punished a second time, although in a much less severe manner.
When the video was finally finished, I closed the laptop and went to fix something to eat. I took the sandwich I'd made, a glass of water and the laptop over to my cheap desk in the corner. As I sat down, I realized I hadn't even bothered to get dressed since the shower. It had felt normal without any clothes since I had spent the entire time at Sir's in a similar manner. This realization didn't really bother me enough to get up and put something on, so I went about looking online for some training equipment.
As I scrolled through pages and pages of hot models and good-looking gear, my dick stayed at least half hard. Some of the items just didn't appeal to me. Others, like spiked ball cages, flat out terrified me. There were quite a few that caught my, and my dick's, attention. I ended up having a list of 10 or so to choose from. Sir had said at least five, but I wasn't sure I could afford all 10 of the ones my dick liked, especially if Sir was going to make me spend any more money this month.
After about an hour of internal debating and conflict, I finally pulled the trigger and put six items in my cart. Sir already had some instruments to hit me with, so I didn't want to buy anything like that unless he specifically told me to. I also bought things that I thought I might enjoy in some weird way. It was strange having to pick out devices that I knew would be used against me during training. I felt like I was a murderer who got to choose his method of execution. Of course, not that extreme, but I certainly felt some dread mixed in with my excitement for each item.
In the end, I bought, paid for, and shipped to Sir the following: a metal chastity device, iron leg and arm shackles, a funnel mouth gag, a puppy tail butt plug, a remote-controlled vibrator, and some nipple clamps.
I sent Sir a message telling him what I had ordered and when it was scheduled to arrive (I had paid for the fast shipping in hopes of pleasing him). I never heard back from him, and after about an hour of waiting and practically staring at my phone, I went about my normal weekend routine.
I did some laundry, cooking, cleaning and got things ready for work the next week. I remained nude because at this point it seemed silly to dirty clothes for only part of the day. It also made me kind of feel like I was still serving Sir since I was nude and doing housework, just like I had done at his apartment. I also kept my phone right next to me at all times, hoping to hear from Sir. I wanted so badly for him to approve of my purchases, but I was only met with silence every time I looked at the phone.
Eventually I did go lie down and take a nap. I woke up past dinner time, still with no message from Sir. I continued puttering around my place, surfing the web, watching tv, and just relaxing a bit after the intense training. My body was starting to recover too, especially after the nap. Around 11, I decided it was time for bed. Sir obviously had no more use for me, and even if he did, I felt that I couldn't be held responsible if I missed his message because I was sleeping.
I woke up the next morning a little sore from my training. I checked my phone for any messages, but didn't have any. So I went about my day as usual, getting showered and shaved, but again time not bothering to put on clothes. I was starting to feel better not wearing any. It just felt right for me to stay nude.
Around 1, I got a text from Sir telling me to be at his place in 15 minutes and to bring all the underwear I own. I stopped what I was doing (which wasn't really much of anything, just playing a video game), got dressed, emptied my underwear drawer into a gym bag, and headed to the car. When I got there I was someone else had added "COCKSUCKER to the back window of my car, only further adding to my humiliation while driving to Sir's apartment complex.
I parked, carried the gym bag full of underwear up the stairs and knelt once again at the doormat. I placed the underwear bag to my right as I knocked on the door and started counting. After 30 long seconds, I opened the door and crawled inside, dragging the bag behind.
I saw Sir had put a grey and black file holder with an unlocked padlock in the entryway. I assumed this was my new lock box, so as I began stripping I folded and put my clothes inside of it. When I was completely nude, I pushed the padlock down, sealing my clothes inside. I got into a kneeling position, and as I looked up I realized Sir was leaning against the kitchen bar counter watching me. I'm sure he had been doing that the whole time, but I was so preoccupied with doing things right that I hadn't noticed him.
Sir was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt. I didn't dare raise my eyes past his chest, knowing better than to try and look at his handsome face. Instead, I lowered my gaze to his feet, which were covered in a pair of black ankle socks. It was strange, but I felt a slight pang at not being able to see his barefeet. I had enjoyed kissing and licking them and was kind of growing attached to them.
"So how badly do you have to piss, slave?" Sir asked.
I didn't know why he was asking, but I told Sir I didn't really have to piss at all. He took a few quick steps toward me, ending up right in front of my kneeling naked body.
"Do you mean to tell me that you've held your piss since I kicked you out and you still don't have to piss?" he asked, with anger rising. "Because surely you weren't dumb enough to break our contract less than 24 hours into it. And I didn't get any messages asking for permission to use the bathroom."
I realized my mistake then. Written clearly in the contract it stated I had to get Sir's permission to go whenever I wasn't at work. And I'd pissed at least three times since leaving Sir's place yesterday, each time without asking. I felt panic starting to rise inside of me.
"Please, Sir, please forgive this dumb fag, Sir. I was so tired from yesterday that I didn't even think about asking permission to go, Sir," I said quickly and in the most pathetic of voice I could muster. "Have mercy, Sir. I am still learning to be your slave, please don't punish me, Sir, please. I'll do anything!"
Less than a second after I finished my begging, Sir's right foot made contact with my balls in a hard, swift kick. Instinctively, I grabbed for them and bent over trying to protect myself from another blow.
"Move your fucking hands, now," Sir said. I did as he said, hesitantly resting them on my thighs. I saw the foot move before I felt the pain as Sir kicked my balls again, causing me to cry out and fall over.
"Get your ass into the office, fag," Sir steamed. "I cannot believe you. Three fucking punishments in 24 hours. Maybe I picked the wrong slave to own."
I began crawling down the hall to the office with the dog transporter. The door was closed, but I pushed it open and made my way inside. Sir came in shortly after I settled in to a spot in the middle of the room. He closed the door behind him and went to pull the window blinds down across the room.
"Stand up and face the door," Sir said as he moved behind me.
I did as I was told, scrambling to my feet as fast as possible to avoid ticking off Sir even more. I felt Sir's hand come around from behind.
"Open up," he said. And as I did, a rubber phallic device was shoved in my mouth. I couldn't tell if it was a dildo or just some sort of gag. As I closed my mouth, my taste buds began to be assaulted with the taste of rubber, so I assumed it was some sort of sex toy. And since I didn't feel any straps, I knew it wasn't a gag.
"Now I've only had to use this punishment once before," Sir said. "It's brutal, but I think since you're averaging an infraction every 8 hours, extreme measures are called for."
I began to get really nervous now. Sir's first two punishments had been rough, but it sounded like this would be even worse. I felt my heart start to race and I began rapidly breathing through my nose. Sweat also started to run down various places in my body. I wasn't sure if these responses were in fear, anticipation, or a mix of the two.
Sir grabbed my wrists and pulled them behind me. He then began tying my arms together with what felt like rope. Once he had them knotted off, he pulled my bound arms back, forcing my shoulders down and causing me to bend over a bit.
I then felt my arms being tugged even higher as I heard rope sliding across something above me. The tugging stopped just as the pain got to be too much. As a result of the pulling, I was on my tip toes, trying to keep my arms from being ripped out of their sockets. I heard Sir grabbing one of the sawhorses and it sounded like he was setting it up right behind me. After that was down, a black cloth was put over my eyes, blocking my vision. Sir tied a tight knot on the back of my head, pulling the blindfold taut.
"Open up," Sir said, and I felt him pull whatever was in my mouth out. It was replaced with a round object, that I wasn't sure what it was until I felt straps going around my lower head and neck. Sir had put a ball gag in the object's place. I then heard the door open again and then there was quiet.
I wasn't sure if this was the punishment or what was going on. My arms were already starting to hurt and the extended amount of time I'd put weight on my tiptoes was not pleasant either. I was hoping this was the extent of it and that Sir would come back and release me soon.
I heard Sir carrying some things back in the room. He was moving around and it sounded like he was setting up something. I assumed, and kind of hoped, it was just the video camera to record the punishment, but with the blindfold on, every sound was amplified and played to my terrified imagination.
I felt Sir grab me around the stomach, pushing me backward. I felt something hit the edge of my asshole, but it didn't go in.
"Now stay there. If you take a step forward, I'll know, and you'll be in for a world of pain," Sir said. "I'm going to grab the final two things for this, then I'll fill you in on what's about to happen."
I heard him move out of the room, and I really started to sweat now. My punishment was only a minute or so away, and I was mentally unprepared for whatever torments Sir had planned. Already my arms were throbbing and leg muscles starting to tense up from this new position. I wasn't sure what was touching my ass, but I couldn't imagine that it wouldn't be going inside of me shortly.
Sir re-entered the room, and I felt him slide something around my neck and then heard him set something down. Whatever was around my neck didn't go fully around and connect, and it felt like it had two attachments hanging on either side. In my mind, I was picturing some horrible whip that Sir was about to use all over my body, but I just couldn't figure out exactly what it was with my eyes shut to the world.
"Now for the next hour or so, you're going to be in hell," Sir said. "I've got your arms rigged up through a pulley so that you cannot comfortably stand without pulling on them. And since I can already see your legs starting to quiver, I imagine it won't be long before you decide the arm pain is worth the small break for your legs. But when you take that break, the butt plug on the sawhorse behind you will enter your ass. On that butt plug I put some special lube just for bad fags. So while your legs are resting, your arms are being pulled and your cunt assaulted."
I could visualize exactly what Sir had rigged up now. He essentially was making me choose between torturing my legs or assaulting my ass and pulling my arms. And I was sure that the special lube wouldn't make things any better.
"The headphones around your neck will be put on before I leave the room," Sir said. "You will be listening to a very special recording of things you missed out on since I'm having to punish you instead. As you struggle with all this, I want you to think about how badly you've messed up and how lucky you are to get another chance to serve a man like me. Got it?"
I mumbled "Yes, Sir" into my gag, but it came out as an unintelligible mmmherrrer. I felt the headphones lifted from my neck and placed on top of my head.
Sir left the right ear open for just a second and I felt his breath on my ear as he whispered "The plug's covered in Bengay, faggot. Enjoy."
And then the sounds of the world were cut off and replaced instead with the moans and grunts of another guy and Sir's voice shouting "Take that dick, faggot. Take it all." I was listening to Sir fucking someone else.
Sorry it longer than before to get this chapter up. I hope you enjoyed the fifth chapter of my tale. I love to receive comments and feedback at kinkyinga@gmail.com.