Sans titre

[md7tf]

Reborn Ink - Tattoos Make The Man

Andrew could hardly believe his friend Rick had talked Tim and himself into getting matching D&D tattoos to celebrate 15 years playing together. They were practically family at this point and Andrew figured one small tattoo on his arm wasn’t that big of a deal.

Andrew nervously described the 20-sided die with a small dagger design he wanted to the burly and intimidating tattoo artist. He even handed over a reference drawing, but the man just looked from the paper to Andrew and said, “Don’t worry brother, I know exactly the tattoo you need, and you’re gonna look great once we’re done.” Before Andrew could make sense of the odd reply, he winced in pain as the man got to work jabbing his arm with the tattoo needle.

After a while, the needle didn’t seem to hurt as much, and Andrew opened his eyes to see a new barbed wire tattoo wrapping around his arm… was that right? His head was still slightly foggy from the pain, but hadn’t he asked for something with dice? Or was it a dagger? Andrew continued to stare at the tattoo struggling to recall while the tattoo artist began another piece on his other arm.

Andrew watched with growing anticipation as the man crafted a beautiful dagger tattoo. Yes, it had been a dagger he had asked for. He felt each strike of the needle in his arm and began to notice how his t-shirt sleeve was straining against his bicep. He looked over at Rick and Tim in the other chairs; something looked off about them, were their shoulders too broad? Andrew looked back at his own arm, admiring the definition of his biceps compared to the skinny twig arms he had when he was younger. Maybe he should consider getting another tattoo to show off the muscles he was building up.

The tattoo artist told Andrew to remove his shirt, which he did without hesitation, revealing the solid American-made muscles he had worked so hard for. Andrew swelled with pride as the majestic American Eagle tattoo took shape over his well-defined chest. The man had been right; he knew exactly what tattoos would fit a man like him.

Andrew lay on his stomach as the tattoo artist continued to work on the enormous wing tattoos across his massive back. Andrew wasn’t sure how long he had been at the tattoo shop now, but his mind drifted back to the rough life he had lived and all the struggles he had overcome to become the strong, hard man he was. Without his friends—his brothers—he might not have survived to be here today.

They had fought, bled, and killed for each other. Today was the day they were claiming their true blood, having finally earned the right to take the Edge.

He stood before the mirror, admiring the dagger tattoo along his temple—the symbol of the brotherhood. The rest of his rock solid body bulging with muscle and covered in ink telling the story of a man dedicated to strength, country, and brotherhood. He grabbed the heavy leather vest from the back of the chair and pulled it on. It was a perfect fit.

Anvil strode out of the Reborn Ink tattoo shop where Brick and Timber were waiting for him. All three smiled; the matching daggers on their faces were their permanent colors, marking them forever as part of the Dagger's Edge brotherhood.

[freegardenergladiator]

Ouf, le tatouage est enfin terminé !

[md7tf]

Would you be willing to tf me?

Lot 173 - MEAT

It all starts at the bar when you begin talking to him—a man dressed in full leather and radiating an unyielding dominance. Having always been curious about the kink scene, the thought of a man like this introducing you to it is… intoxicating. The way he kept referring to you as “boy” in that deep, gruff voice, and the promise of training you and your muscles.

“Train with me, boy, and I guarantee you’ll never be the same man again.”

A bit uncertain, you follow him to a secluded alley with a large door labeled “Meat Processing.” Unlocking the heavy padlock, he leads you down a dark stairwell to a dimly lit room in the basement. The space is windowless and packed with heavy iron lifting equipment, with a single small cot in one corner. The air smells of cold steel and old sweat. It fills you with a mix of thrilling excitement and uneasy wariness. 

“Take off your clothes, sit down, and don’t move, boy.”

You eagerly obey, stripping naked and sitting in the chair. Your cock begins to harden as he places a heavy metal chain around your neck with a large bell hanging from it, like something you’d see on cattle. That is, until you hear the buzz of the clippers and he says “Hair is for men, not boys.” You sit there on the verge of tears as the locks of your beautiful hair fall to the floor, again questioning your decision to come here. It isn’t just the hair on your head; when he finishes, every trace of hair is gone from your body, leaving you exposed and raw.

“Now let’s get that cock of yours under control. I’m locking this up to remind you that your testosterone belongs to your muscles now, not your hand." With that, you feel the cold steel cage clamp down with a heavy, metallic click, sending a shiver through your spine as your apprehension wars with the thrill at the thought of being his property to be sculpted.

“Let’s get to work, boy.”

You quickly lose track of time as he pushes you through workout after grueling workout. You struggle with even the lightest weights, but every "pathetic" and "scrawny" he growls makes you want to work harder to please him, to grow for him. Slowly, with every rep, you begin to accept that this is your life now. 

“Time to supplement your training and get you growing.”

Countless injections of steroids, growth hormones, and who knows what else. Thick, chalky protein pouring down your throat between sets. Your body belongs to him now, and all that matters is getting bigger, stronger, more obedient. Rep by rep, you begin to lose yourself to the mindless repetition.

“Now you’re starting to look like some prime beef.”

He’s given you a new purpose, one you have embraced and excelled at: lift and grow, lift and grow. No need to think. The weak "boy" who walked down those stairs is gone, your frame now thick and heavy with aching, throbbing muscle. The clank of the bell around your neck echoes the clanging of the weights—a constant reminder that no matter how big your muscles grow, you are still his livestock.

“That’s my good bull. You keep working hard for me.”

You no longer have a name, nor do you remember ever being anything other than his prized bull. Veiny, massive, and completely stripped of thought and self, you kneel before him as the piece of meat you are… ready to be paraded, sold, and used. 

“Gentlemen, let the bidding begin for Lot 173.”

[freegardenergladiator]

Entraine toi dur mec...

[brainwashtransformation]

Story: Eigene Entscheidung

Es ist Wochenende – ich sitze zu Hause und weiß nichts mit mir anzufangen.

Die letzten Wochen waren eine Mischung aus Chaos im Job, Stress mit Freunden und durchgehend schlechter Laune… Ich hatte es alles so satt.

Es musste sich dringend was ändern, aber was?

Wieder mal um Acht ins Bett gehen, um niemanden sehen zu müssen?

Nein, heute würde ich mich nicht unterkriegen lassen und endlich mal wieder ausgehen. Und wenn ich nur allein in einer Bar sitzen und ein Bier trinken würde. Hauptsache mal raus und wer weiß, vielleicht würde sich ja was Geiles finden, ich hatte schon ewig keinen Schwanz mehr im Arsch.

Also ab ins Bad und erstmal Eier und Schwanz rasieren.

Ich hatte bock meinen Lieblings-Jockstrap zu tragen – in dem habe ich schon ordentlich rumgesaut und der Duft war so geil.

Ich suchte meinen Adidas-Chile-Anzug raus und meine neusten Nike-Tns. Ja ich glaube so kann ich rausgehen und hoffentlich nen geilen Kerl aufreißen.

Bis in die Szene waren es ungefähr 30 Minuten mit dem Bus. Ich war so aufgegeilt, ich hätte mir am liebsten im Bus schon einen runtergeholt.

Ich ging in meine Stamm-Bar, aber es war noch nicht viel los – ein paar Pärchen saßen an Tischen und unterhielten sich, ein paar ältere Kerle schienen nach Frischfleisch Ausschau zu halten. Ich setzte mich an die Bar, bestellte mir ein Bier und schaute mich ein wenig um.

Nach einer halben Stunde saß ich immer noch allein mit meinem Bier an der Bar. Ein paar neue Gäste waren herein gekommen unter anderem ein interessant wirkendes, aber irgendwie auch ungleiches Paar.

Ein gut gebauter, sehr kerlig und dominant wirkender Typ, schätzungsweise in den Vierzigern, in einer knackig sitzenden Zunfthose und schwarzem Gummiunterhemd und ein etwas jünger aussehender Typ in kurzer Gummishorts und freiem Oberkörper.

Ohne es selbst zu bemerken, starte ich die Beiden eine Weile an. Wobei mein Blick eher auf dem älteren Kerl hingen blieb.

Ich hatte nicht mal bemerkt, dass er aufgestanden und an die Bar gekommen war, um sich was zu Trinken zu bestellen.

„Hey Kleiner, hab ich irgendwo nen Fleck, oder warum schaust Du mich die ganze Zeit so streng an?“

Ich erschrak und verschluckte mich an meinem Bier.

„Oh, Entschuldigung, ich war wohl etwas in Gedanken. Keine böse Absicht dahinter.“

„Alles OK, Kleiner, wie heißt Du? Ich bin Master Tom, du darfst mich Master nennen.“

„Ich heiße Sven. Danke Master.“

„Ok sehr gut. Warum sitzt Du hier so allein rum? Setz Dich zu uns, Du scheinst Gesellschaft brauchen zu können.“ Ich zögerte einen Moment, aber hey, wieso nicht? Besser als hier allein rumzusitzen.

„Ok gerne Master.“

Ich folgte ihm zu seinem Tisch und er zeigte auf den Platz rechts neben ihm. Er schaute seinen Begleiter an und sagte trocken: „Pig, lass uns allein, du darfst Dich amüsieren. Ich will meine Ruhe haben.“ Der Junge nickte dem Master zu: „Ja Master, danke Master.“, und verschwand in den Darkroom.

Ich muss etwas verwirrt geschaut haben, aber der Master fing sofort an zu reden:

„Überrascht? Ich denke mein Master-Titel sollte Dir einiges erklärt haben. Der Kleine ist mein fester Sklave. Er hat zwar noch ein eigenes Leben, lebt auch oft bei mir, aber darf sich auch amüsieren und im Darkroom benutzen lassen“

„Oh ok“, antwortet ich. „Ich hab da so schnell gar nicht drüber nach gedacht, aber klar. Ich hab mit sowas nicht viel am Hut. Finds zwar ab und an ganz geil gefesselt zu werden und würde auch gerne noch das ein, oder andere ausprobieren – aber mehr kann ich bisher noch nicht vorweisen.“

„Na Kleiner, mach Dir mal keinen Kopf darum. Alles zu seiner Zeit, was dir gefällt nimmste mit, was nicht lässte halt sein. Eigentlich ganz einfach. Bist doch ein ziemlich hottes Kerlchen und hast bestimmt viele Jungs, die gerne mit Dir Spaß haben.“

Ich lachte auf. „Ja klar, deswegen sitze ich am Freitag-Abend allein in einer Bar und trinke Bier.“

Wir redeten eine ganze Weile, aber ich konnte einfach meinen Blick nicht von ihm abwenden. Dieser Kerl war eigentlich gar nicht mein Raster, aber mein Schwanz sprach da eine andere Sprache und drückte gegen meine Trainingshose.

Dem Master schien das aufgefallen zu sein. Er rutschte ein wenig zu mir rüber, zog mich mit seiner Hand in meinem Nacken zu sich ran und drückte mir seine Zunge in den Hals. Dieser Kerl sah nicht nur verboten gut aus, er konnte auch noch richtig geil küssen.

„Wollen wir uns mal nach hinter verziehen Kleiner? Hab Bock auf Dich.“ „Ja Master, sehr gerne!“

Wir gingen in den Darkroom und fanden durch Zufall eine leere Kabine, in die wir uns zurückzogen.

Sofort drückte er mich gegen die Wand und fing wieder an mit mir rumzuknutschen.

Er drückte meine Beine auseinander und schob sein Knie gegen meinen steifen Schwanz. Ich stöhne vor Geilheit. Mit seiner Hand in meinem Nacken drückte er mich runter, mein Gesicht genau vor seiner Zunfthose. „Los Leck Sau!“ herrschte er mich an.

Ich drückte meine Zunge gegen seine Hose und versuchte seinen Schwanz so gut es geht zu erwischen.

„Los, hol ihn raus!“

Ich öffnete seinen Zunftlatz und mir sprang sein fett gepierctes Teil entgegen. Ohne Aufforderung leckte ich das geile Teil. Er drückte mir seinen Schwanz tief in den Rachen und fickte mich hart ins Maul. Ich wurde immer geiler.

Er zog mich wieder hoch, drehte mich mit dem Rücken zu ihm und zog mit die Hose runter.

Er spuckte mir auf die Rosette und ohne Vorwarnung schob er mir seinen Schwanz rein.

Ich stöhnte laut auf, es war einfach zu geil.

Während er mich hart fickte, drehte er mein Gesicht in seine Richtung und wir knutschten weiter, bis er unter lautem Stöhnen über meinen Arsch abspritze. Ich dachte, es wäre schon vorbei, aber er schob mir einen Schwanz direkt wieder ein und fickte, dieses Mal etwas sanfter, einfach weiter.

„Du geile Sau. Ich ficke Dich jetzt so lange, bis ich nochmal abgespritzt habe.“

Keine 5 Minuten später spritze er das zweite Mal ab, dieses Mal, ohne den Schwanz rauszuziehen.

Er drehte mich wieder um, um wir knutschten noch eine ganze Weile rum.

„Willste noch ein Bier? Ich hol uns mal zwei.“ „Danke Master.“ Wir gingen wieder in den Barbereich und zurück an unseren Tisch.

„Hier, Prost Sau. Das war ne geile Nummer. Könnten wir nachher nochmal wiederholen.“ „Danke Master, mein Arsch tropft glaube ich gerade, aber schon lange keinen Kerl mehr getroffen, der so geil knutschen kann.“

Der Master grinste und nahm einen Schluck von seinem Bier.

„So erzähl mal, Du hast eben von Bondage geredet und das du noch Sachen ausprobieren möchtest. An was denkst Du da?“

„Naja, bisher hab ich mehr so Erfahrungen mit Seilen oder Folie, also eher einfache Spielereien. Was mich wirklich mal reizen würde, wäre, so als Dekoobjekt gefesselt zu sein, oder ein Knast-Szenario, komplett weggesperrt für einen bestimmten Zeitraum.“ „Ok.“ Antwortete der Master. „Das klingt doch alles machbar. Bondage fängt ja da an, wo das Opfer raus will, es aber nicht kann. Mein Sklave ist nicht so der Bondagefan. Klar wird er auch mal gefesselt, aber Spaß macht es ihm glaube ich, nicht wirklich. Da bräuchte ich schon einen anderen Sklaven, der geil auf sowas ist. Aber sowas findet man gar nicht so leicht.“

„Naja, einen passenden Gegenspieler zu finden, scheint auch in einer großen Stadt wie hier, nicht so leicht zu sein.“ Antwortete ich. „Vielleicht finde ich ja irgendwann mal jemanden, mit dem sowas möglich ist.“ „Gute Einstellung Kleiner. Keinen Stress machen und einfach schauen was kommt. Stell Dir vor, Du triffst einen geilen Kerl, ihr habt Spaß zusammen und verzieht Euch zu ihm nach Hause. Er hat viele Spielmöglichkeiten und überlässt Dir selbst die Wahl, wie weit Du gehen willst. Dann spielt ihr ein wenig und am anderen Morgen gehst wieder nach Hause und hast ein paar geile Erinnerungen.“ Ich nickte.

„Sowas würde mir auch gefallen. Solche Subs findet man selten. Stell Dir vor, du bist allein in seinem Spielkeller und darfst einfach ausprobieren was da ist. Er lässt Dir die Zeit dich umzusehen, und zu schauen was Dich geil machen würde.“

Ich nickte wieder.

„Du probiest ein paar Sachen aus und findest Dich nach und nach komplett festgebunden wieder, ohne dass dein Gastgeber auch nur einen Finger krumm gemacht hat.“

„Das klingt wirklich spannend, aber so jemanden zu finden, halte ich kaum für möglich.

Der Master nippte an seinem Bier. Mit einem Handzeichen orderte er seinen Sklaven zu sich ran und flüsterte ihm einige Sachen ins Ohr. Der Sklave bedankte sich bei seinem Master und verließ die Bar.

„Der Sklave hat noch einiges zu tun, daher habe ich ihn nach Hause geschickt. Er hatte genug Spaß für heute.“

Ich schaute mich in der Bar um. Es war deutlich voller geworden und langsam stieg auch die Lautstärke deutlich an.

„Was hältst Du davon, wenn wir raus gehen und ne Runde um den Block ziehen? Hier wird’s mit langsam zu voll und ich will noch etwas frische Luft schnappen.

„Klar gerne, Master“, antwortete ich und wir verließen gemeinsam die Bar.

Während wir liefen, spürte ich plötzlich seine Hand hinten in meiner Hose. Er fing an mich beim Laufen zu fingern. Mein Schwanz erwachte plötzlich wieder zum Leben.

„Lauf einfach weiter Kleiner. Deine Fotze ist einfach zu lecker.“ Er zog seine Hand wieder aus meiner Hose und ich konnte sein Sperma an seinen Fingern sehen. Er drückte mich die Finger in den Mund.

„Los Kleiner, sauberlecken.“

Ich hatte noch nie Sperma geleckt, aber mir war klar, dass er keine Widerrede zulassen würde.

„Danke Master.“

„So ists gut, Du lernst ja schnell.“, lachte er.

Wir liefen eine ganze Weile durch die Gegend und redeten weiter über verschiedene Bondage-Szenarien.

„Ich finde es geil, wenn sich ein Sub selbst entscheidet meine Sau zu werden. Ich würde ihn nicht dazu drängen, sondern ihm selbst die Wahl lassen. Bei einem Bondage-Sklaven wäre es natürlich ohne Rückkehr. Ein Leben im meinem Spielkeller. Dauerhaft in Fesseln und zur Benutzung verfügbar. Oder als lebendes Dekoobjekt zur Schau gestellt. Der Gedanke turnt mich wirklich an, aber wer würde sich schon freiwillig in so eine Situation begeben?“

Ich antwortete nicht, war mit meinen Gedanken irgendwie abwesend. Ich lieb ein Stück hinter ihm und konnte ihn im Augenwinkel beobachten. Dieser Kerl sah so geil aus – sein Arsch in der engen Zunfthose, sein muskulöser Oberkörper im Gummi – mein Magen fing an Purzelbäume zu schlagen.

„Eines Tages werde ich vielleicht den passenden Kerl finden, der sich dauerhaft in Gefangenschaft begeben will, bis dahin werde ich meinen Sklaven immer wieder in Bondage packen müssen, um auch Spaß zu haben.“

Der Master redete und redete. Seine Vorstellungen und Ideen machten mich immer geiler und irgendwie aufgeregter.

Ich bemerkte gar nicht wie die Zeit verging und wo wir gelandet waren. Als ich auf mein Handy schaute, war es bereits 2 Uhr nachts.

„Wow, wir laufen hier schon seit Stunden rum und sind schon fast am Stadtrand. Was hältst Du davon noch mit zu mir zu kommen? Ich hätte nichts dagegen deinen Arsch noch ein wenig zu verwöhnen.“ Er drückte mich an sich und schob mir wieder die Zunge in den Hals. Ohne drüber nachzudenken, öffnete ich einen seiner Reißverschlüsse und fing an, seinen Schwanz zu massieren.

„Du Sau, ich fasse das mal als ein ja auf. Lass uns ein Taxi nehmen, ich wohne nicht so weit weg von hier.“

Mit dem Taxi brauchten wir keine zehn Minuten zu seinem Haus. Der Master wohnte ein wenig abgelegen in einem alten Fabrikgebäude. „Das war mal irgendso eine Fabrikhalle. Ich hab sie günstig erstanden und umgebaut. Hier hab ich meine Ruhe und keine spießigen Nachbarn in den Nähe.“

Ich war sprachlos. Eine Mischung aus Fabrikstyle und modernen Glas- und Stahlelementen durchzogen das ganze Gebäude.

Ich hatte aber nicht viel Zeit mich umzuschauen. Kaum waren wir im Haus angekommen, zog der Master mich wieder an sich ran, holte meinen Schwanz raus und während er mir die Zunge in den Hals schob, fing er gnadenlos an mich zu wichsen. Ich stöhnte laut und wurde immer geiler.

„Wage es nicht abzuspritzen Kleiner.“

Er kniff mir hart in die Nippel. Ich stöhnte auf vor Schmerz.

Er öffnete seine Hose, holte seinen prallen harten Schwanz raus. Kraftvoll drückte er meinen Oberkörper runter, auf seinen Esstisch, trat meine Beine weiter auseinander und hielt meine Hände auf dem Rücken fixiert.

Er fickte mich dieses Mal hart und gnadenlos, ich hatte das Gefühl mein Arsch würde explodieren.

„Du geile Sau. Dieses Mal zeige ich Dir wie geil es sein kann, als Bitch durchgefickt zu werden. Das ist es doch was du brauchst Du kleine Fotze. Einen geilen Masterschwanz im Arsch und jemanden, der Dir sagt, wo es langgeht.“

Er war wie ausgetauscht. Ein harter, aggressiver und rücksichtloser Master, der sich an seiner Bitch verging. Ich war so geil, wie schon lange nicht mehr.

Nachdem er wieder in mir abgespritzt hatte, drückte er seinen Oberkörper auf meinen Rücken und flüsterte mir ins Ohr.

„Na Kleiner, ich hoffe das war auch geil für Dich. Ich musste etwas Druck ablassen und wollte Dir mal zeigen, wie ich auch sein kann.“

„Danke Master, es war richtig geil, mein Arsch brennt wie Sau, aber so war es genau richtig.“

„Gut so Du kleine Sau.“

Langsam bewegte er seinen Schwanz in meinem Loch weiter. Ich spürte seine Erektion zurückkommen.

Dann zog er ihn plötzlich ruckartig aus mir aus und schob mir zwei Finger ins Loch.

„Wir sollten Dein Loch ein wenig trainieren Kleiner. Würd gern mal meine Faust in Dir versenken.“ „Ich glaube, dafür bin ich noch zu eng. Da müssten wir schon noch ein wenig trainieren.“ „Nichts lieber als das.“, antwortete der Master. „Kannst Dich gerne wöchentlich zum abficken melden. Ich reite Dich so lange ein, bis ich meine Faust in dein Loch kriege.“

Wir knutschten noch eine Weile rum.

„Was denkst Du Kleiner, es ist schon richtig spät. Du kannst gerne hier auf der Couch übernachten, dann brauchste nicht mehr den langen Weg nach Hause nehmen. Hier fährt jetzt eh kein Bus mehr.“

„Ja gerne, wenn es Dir keine Umstände macht.“

„Ne das passt schon, vielleicht zeige ich Dir dann ja morgen mal meinen Spielkeller.“ Er zeigte auf eine schwere Eisentür, die ich bis jetzt noch gar nicht wahrgenommen hatte.

„Pass auf, ich hau mich kurz unter die Dusche und kümmere mich noch um meinen Sklaven, der braucht noch ein paar Anweisungen für morgen. Du kannst Dich gerne schon hier hinhauen oder noch Fernsehen oder was Du magst.“

„Ok, danke, Master.“

Der Master verschwand ins obere Stockwerk und ich war plötzlich allein. Nach einer Weile, der Master schien sich wirklich Zeit zu lassen, wurde ich neugierig.

Mit gingen die Worte des Masters nicht aus dem Kopf. Ein Bondage-Sklave, der selbst entscheidet, ob er bereit ist diesen Weg zu gehen… Diesen geilen Kerl als festen Master? Ich hatte noch nie über sowas nachgedacht, aber mein Bauchgefühl sagte mir, dass es sich richtig anfühlt.

Ich wollte nicht zu neugierig sein und alleine durchs Haus stöbern, aber die schwere Eisentür zog mich an, wie ein Magnet.

Langsam ging ich drauf zu und sie war nicht verschlossen.

Hinter der Tür ging es eine Treppe runter.

Vorsichtig ging ich runter in den dunklen Raum. Am Ende der Treppe fand ich einen Lichtschalter.

Sofort erstrahlte der gesamte Raum in einem rötlichen Licht.

Ich war sprachlos. Das hier war kein kleines Spielzimmer – das hier war ein Spielgewölbe.

Komplett ausgestattet, mit allem, was man sich nur vorstellen konnte.

Käfige, Pranger, Andreaskreuz, Streckbank, Regal voller Eisenfesseln, Lederzeugs ohne Ende, eine ganze Wand voller Gummikleidung…. So etwas geiles hatte ich noch nie gesehen.

Mein Schwanz schwoll wieder an.

Mein Blick schweifte durch den Raum und blieb an einem schweren Bondagestuhl hängen.

So etwas hatte ich mir immer erträumt, fixiert in so einem Stuhl, völlig wehrlos ausgeliefert.

Langsam ging ich auf den Stuhl zu, ich wollte ihn mir näher anschauen.

Auf dem Stuhl lagen diverse Sachen, die ich noch nicht richtig sehen konnte.

Als ich am Stuhl angekommen war, verschlug es mir die Sprache.

Auf dem Stuhl lag ein großes Blatt Papier, auf dem Stand: „Traust Du dich?“

Ich war verwirrt.

Hatte der Master das alles geplant? War ich in eine Art Falle getappt?

Nein, das konnte nicht sein.

Unter dem Blatt Papier waren verschiedene Gegenstände:

Der erste, mein Herz raste, sowas wollte ich immer schonmal probieren, war ein schwerer KG aus Stahl.

Sollte ich es wagen? Was wenn der Master mich so erwischen würde? Was würde er sagen?

Mein Kopf brummte und ich reagierte fast wie in Trance.

Ohne nachzudenken, zog ich mich komplett aus und nahm nochmal einen tiefen Atemzug aus meinem Jockstrap. Grrrr dieser Geruch machte mich nur noch geiler.

Ich versuchte zu verstehen, wie ich den KG anlegen musste.

Zuerst nahm ich den Hüftring und legte ihn mir um den Bauch.

Ich brauchte einen kleinen Moment, um meinen Schwanz wieder einigermaßen schlaff zu bekommen. Ich dachte dabei an nackte alte Frauen, irgendwie half es.

Meinen Schwanz führte ich in eine Art Rohr aus kleinen Drähten ein und befestigte diesen an dem Hüftring.

Das fühlte sich sehr geil an und ich hatte jetzt schon keine Chance mehr, an meinen Schwanz zu kommen.

Über das erste Rohr kam noch eine weitere Abdeckung und somit wurden auch meine Eier verpackt und waren nicht mehr erreichbar.

Ich realisierte gar nicht, dass ich mich gerade selbst weggesperrt hatte und allein gar nicht mehr aus dem KG kommen würde. Ich war so in die Situation vertieft, ich hatte keine Ahnung was mit mir los war.

Auf dem Bondagestuhl lag ein Kopfharness. Sollte ich es wagen? Naja, was sollte schon passieren?

Im Harness war ein Dildoknebel versteckt. Ich saugte an dem Dildo und drückte mir das Harness fest ans Gesicht. Die Die Lederriemen des Harness brauchten ein wenig, bis ich sie richtig verschlossen hatte und das Harness richtig saß. Hmmm es fühlte sich so gut an.

Ich drückte gegen den KG, versucht an meinen Schwanz zu kommen, aber keine Chance.

Was lag noch auf dem Stuhl?

Nippelklammern an einer Kette? Meine Nippel waren immer schon extrem sensibel gewesen, aber wenn schon, denn schon – vorsichtig klemmte ich meine Nippel ein, uff – das war geil.

Mein Kopf fühlte sich immer wohler und ich war immer noch wie in Trance in dieser Situation.

Neben dem Stuhl war ein großer Spiegel. Ich betrachtete mich und wurde von meinem eigenen Anblick geil – WOW. Noch nie hatte ich so geil ausgesehen. Ich bekam immer mehr das Gefühl, meine wahre Bestimmung gefunden zu haben.

Da ich nicht an meinen Schwanz kam, fingerte ich ein wenig an meinem Loch rum. Gott, ich war so geil in diesem Moment.

Sollte ich den Stuhl ausprobieren? Mir kamen die Worte des Masters in den Sinn… „Ein Sklave, der selbst entscheidet, wie weit er geht…?“ Meinte er mich damit? Wollte er das, von Anfang an?

Ok, es gab eh kein Zurück mehr.

Auf dem Stuhl war ein DiIdo befestigt. Wie gut, dass mein Loch heute schon so gut eingeritten wurde. Langsam setzte ich mich auf den Dildo. Er war ein wenig großer als Masters Schwanz. Zum Glück konnte man durch den Knebel mein Stöhnen nicht hören. Ich fickte mich eine Weile selbst, bevor ich endlich komplett auf dem Dildo saß.

Das war ein krasses Gefühl. Mein Arsch und Mail gestopft. Meine Nippel brannten schon wenig, jetzt fehlten nur noch die letzten Schritte.

Ich befestigte meine Füße und Oberschenkel mit den vorgesehenen Metalfesseln. Es war nicht viel zu tun, sie schnappten von selbst ein und ließen sich nicht mehr lösen. Ein weiterer Metalbügel führte um meinen Bauch und noch einer um meine Brust. Ich könnte mich immer weniger bewegen, aber die Geilheit wurde immer größer.

Zwei Gegenstände lagen noch vor mir, ich hatte sie mir auf meinen Beinen zurechtgelegt.

Der erste Gegenstand war eine gepolsterte Augenbinde aus Leder, der zweite waren Kopfhörer. Ich hatte keine Ahnung, wozu die waren, aber ich legte mir beides an.

Die Augenbinde schob ich noch ein wenig zur Seite, so dass ich noch die letzten Schritte erledigen konnte.

Ich befestigte meinen linken Arm mit zwei weiteren Stahlgurten und einen weiteren Gurt um meinen Hals.

Ich bereitete die Fesseln für den zweiten Arm vor und schob mir die Augenbinde komplett über die Augen. Jetzt konnte ich wirklich nichts mehr sehen. Durch ein wenig rütteln schaffte ich es, die letzten beiden Stahlfesseln einrasten zu lassen.

Jetzt war ich komplett verschlossen.

Ich hatte keine Chance mehr zu entkommen und war ein komplettes Bondageobjekt.

Die Geilheit übermannte mich, aber ich merkte schnell, es gab keinen Weg mich zu erleichtern.

Noch schlimmer – erst jetzt realisierte ich, was ich getan hatte. Ich hatte mich selbst in einem Fremden Haus, bei einem quasi fremden Mann, weggesperrt.

Ohne Ausweg.

Ich weiß nicht, wie lange ich so auf dem Stuhl verharrte.

Ich war mir nicht sicher, aber ich hatte ständig das Gefühl ein Rauschen zu hören. Woher kam das? Waren die Kopfhörer automatisiert?

Das Rauschen wurde lauter. Und lauter. Und lauter.

Ich schüttelte meinen Kopf und versuchte die Kopfhörer loszuwerden. Aber die Halsfesseln ließen mir keine Chance.

Nach einer gefühlten Ewigkeit wurde das Rauschen langsam leiser.

Ich hatte das Gefühl, nicht alleine zu sein.

Ich spüre Berührungen an meinem Körper, an den Armen, am Kopf, jemand zieht an der Nippelkette. Ich versuche zu stöhnen, aber durch den Knebel kommt nichts raus.

Jemand nimmt mir die Kopfhörer ab.

Ich spüre sein Gesicht ganz nah an meinem.

„Du geile Sau. Du willst heute unser beider Traum erfüllen, oder? Ein Sklave, der selbst entscheidet, wie weit er gehen will. Du hast Dich also entschieden mein Bondage-Sklave zu werden. Aber Dir ist bewusst, es gibt jetzt kein zurück mehr. Du wirst diesen Keller nicht mehr verlassen. Du wirst nie wieder frei sein. Du bist jetzt mein Sklave, mein Gefangener, mein Objekt.

Ich werde dich in den kommenden Tagen und Wochen trainieren und perfektionieren, deinen Körper und Geist in Besitz nehmen. Und trotzdem werden wir so geil ficken und knutschen, wie heute Abend.

Deinen Schwanz wirst Du selbst nie wieder sehen, der KG bleibt dauerhaft, nur Dein Loch ist für mich zugänglich.

Morgen werden wir Dein Erscheinungsbild anpassen. Sklaven müssen rasiert sein, ich will Deine Titten mit fetten Ringen sehen. Dein Loch wird für die nächste Zeit dauerhaft geplugt, bis meine Faust passt.

Aber macht Dir keine Sorgen – du bist in guten Händen, ich bin nicht nur dein Master, ich passe auch auf Dich auf und werde dich beschützen, auch vor Dir selbst.

Versuche nicht, zu entkommen – du wirst hier nicht mehr rauskommen, aber jeder Versuch wird sehr schmerzhafte Strafen nach sich ziehen.“

Mein Herz raste, mein Schwanz presste gegen sein Gefängnis, meine Nippel brannten und mein Loch zuckte willkürlich. Was hatte ich nur getan?

„Ich weiß Du bist aufgeregt, aber Du wirst vor Morgen nicht aus diesem Stuhl rauskommen. Gewöhn Dich daran, nach und nach werden wir die Fesselungen und Qualen noch verstärken. Jetzt wird es aber Zeit für mich ins Bett zu gehen. Es wird fast hell und ich will noch ein wenig pennen.“

Ich spürte einen Stich in meinem Oberarm und zuckte zusammen.

„Keine Angst Sklave. Ich habe Dir etwas zur Beruhigung gespritzt. In zehn Minuten bist Du eingeschlafen und wenn Du wach wirst, werden Deine Erinnerungen nur noch vernebelt sein. Dann können wir mit Deinem Training beginnen. Also Schlaf gut Sklave.“

Ich fühlte mich ein wenig benommen. Die Aufregung verschwand und eine innere Ruhe kehrte in mich ein. Das war es also. Der Beginn meines neuen Lebens als Bondage-Sklave, bei dem geilsten Master, den ich mir vorstellen konnte.

The end?

[freegardenergladiator]

Quelle chance...oui Maitre...

[wanderer-666]

"It's thanks to Uncle Pete that, many years ago, I began walking the Left Hand Path. Uncle Pete was the family sodomite: a fucking cool guy who gave great head. One day, he asked me if I was interested in his 'private religion.' A few days later, he re-baptised me in his piss for Satan. Hail Satan!"

[intrepidgooner]

I want to join Uncle Pete's "Private religion" and need to be re-baptized in piss.

[freegardenergladiator]

Bon baptéme...

[megaglatze84]

homas greeted Ursula and Jane, the two ladies chatting in the kitchen but as always, they barely noticed him. He nodded friendly in direction of Shawna, but she did not even blink. He sighed and went back to his desk. He was just a nobody. Not that they actually bullied or harassed him. No, they just ignored him. Not only the girls, the men, too.

He sighed again and logged himself into the pay slip system to get back to work. The job was really boring, his life was really boring, damn it, he was really boring. He had been boring all his life, coming from a dynasty of boring men. His father had been an accountant, a greyish man in greyish clothes, his grandfather had been an accountant and even his great-grandfather had been one. “It’s in our genes, numbers run in our blood” his dad once had told him.

He was not so sure about that. His father had been content with his life, as far as a son can really understand his dad. He had worked Monday to Friday in the office, the same company for 45 years, everyday after work he had walked home, to clear his head, he had told him many times although he knew his dad was secretly smoking on his way home, a habit his mother hated. Everyday at 6 he had entered the house, kissed his mother, had a drink and at 6:30 it was dinner time, after that news on TV, a movie or sports and around 10 he would go to bed. Saturday was the day for grocery shopping, garden activities or things that had to be done around the house, Sunday was time for reading and board games. Monday was stew day, Tuesday was steak day, Wednesday was cheese and macaroni day, Thursday was meat loaf day, Friday was fish day …

As a teenager, Thomas had tried to rebel, a bit. He grew his hair a bit longer, he read comics, came home ten minutes late. Nothing very exciting but enough for his father to take him for a long walk and explain the importance of a tidy and scheduled life. Discovering that he was gay with 17 was a shock for him as it was something totally unscheduled and unplanned. He could hide his orientation as he was not the flamboyant queer type and he had no boyfriend during school time. He even went out to the prom with Sarah Guntersberg, his only closer friend at school.

In college he had been an outsider, not exactly a nerd nor a jock. He had some friends, the Forgotten Lot they had called themselves, grey boys and girls, just like him.

It was back then, when he realized that he in fact was not that grey, not that boring. He was only forced into that life by education and the circumstances. In fact, he discovered his love for bizarre gay porn. Not too bizarre. But guys in leather or rubber, manly guys with muscles and cigars, with leather caps and harnesses. Really, not that kinky but compared to his boring life, this was super exciting. Of course, he never bought leather for himself, nor did he ever date a guy like that. He was not the muscular type, he had nearly no body hair and even second-hand smoke made him cough. So watched his porn movies and wished to be a bit more like those men.

After graduation, he took a job, recommended by his father. He moved to another town but inside his head, his family was always there. There was no freedom for him in the big city. He bought clothes, he knew his mother would approve of, he got his hair cut always in exact the same boring business cut his father had ordered him to get when he turned 17. He went to bed early because “being up early is a sign of a good character”. He kept his small flat perfectly tidy, always hearing his mother’s voice in his head. When he had first arrived in the city, he had explored the gay area, he finally saw some of those leather men in real life but he was just nervous, spilled his coffee and ashamed ran back home never to return. In month two of his “freedom” he had the crazy idea of getting an earring, nothing extraordinary, just a sign that he now was the master of his own life. He saw other men at the company with earrings, even some had tattoos. “But when other jump from a bridge, would you jumo, too?” he heard his father in his head. And he imagined the disappointed face of his mother when she found out, he had put holes in his body. So, no earring for him. No drinking, no gym (waste of time, according to his father), no party (you have to be respect, today with all those selfies and internet, who knows who will take pictures of you drunk and put them online, his mother had warned him). He went to work, where he was invisible. He went back home, being invisible in the streets. In his flat he always had a small dinner, watched some TV and in the end jerked off to some leather porn.

It was the day of his 27th birthday, when he could not stand it any longer. He looked back and saw, that every decision his life had been made for him. Enough is enough. He needed to take things in his own hand. He did not think of anything really radical, just doing what he wanted, maybe going out to the gay-area again. With nearly 30, he was a bloody virgin. But making a decision and living accordingly are two different things. Where to start? What to do?

It was a Saturday and what better way to celebrate his birthday than returning to the gay area and get his first gay experience. He was excited, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt he felt like a rebel already. But the evening was a disappointment in every aspect. Most of the bars were filled with young, slim, glittering fairy-boys for whom he was invisible. The one bar with leather men had a bouncer and he told Thomas that there was a strict dress code for the club. So around 11 in the night, he was already back home, drinking some beer and then crying himself to sleep.

The next morning, he was reading in the magazine OUT he had grabbed in one of the fairy-bars. Maybe there was a club for invisible men like him, or a boring gay club, backgammon maybe. He had nearly finished the magazine when he arrived at the small adds section. It was Sunday, it was raining, he had nothing better to do, so he scanned the adds. He stopped at one. Hypnosis-Therapy by professional psychologist. You have problems with your self-confidence? You are haunted by unexplainable fears? You want to stop smoking or lose weight? Private and discrete sessions. First interview for free. Call or write an email for an appointment.”

Thomas had heard about hypnosis therapies. Surely his parents would tell him that this was all nonsense, but he knew that a guy from work had stopped smoking with the help of hypnosis and he had read something about it in a medical journal in the waiting room of a doctor some months ago. It seemed to be an easier way than a real psychotherapy and he knew that came if he waited any longer. He was unhappy, he was lonely. He needed go get rid of his parents, he needed to make his own decisions – and be a bit more open to changes, to adventure. And what could he lose? He could call the guy, talk to him and decide afterwards. The add said that he could phone 24/7, so why wait? He took a deep breath, grabbed his mobile phone and typed in the number.

“Hello, this is Dr. James Hulternbrock, how can I help you?” “Aehm, yes, aehm, my name is Thomas Hill and I saw your add in the OUT-magazine …” “Ah, yes and how can I help you? Do you want to lose weight, stop smoking?” “Aehm, in fact, I call because I am a very … introvert person…” “Don’t be afraid Mr. Hill, you are not the only man with self-confidence issues, in fact a majority of men, especially gay men, have a problem – in one or the other way. Would you mind coming over to my office? As the add says, the first meeting is always for free. We can discuss your problems and I can see what solution I can offer you, how does that sound?”

Thomas agreed to meet the Doctor in his office in an hour and of course he was perfectly punctual. In fact, he was nearly ten minutes early. “Better wait some minutes than being late” he could hear his mother say. “Oh, why don’t you just shut the fuck up!” he thought and giggled – but felt ashamed a second later.

The doctor was a large man in his 50’s, bearish looks, gut, big full beard, zero cropped fringe around a shiny bald head, very deep and calm voice. He guided Thomas into a small office. No sofa, just chairs, he realized. They had some small talk before they finally came to the point. Thomas opened up in a way, he had never thought he could. He told the doctor everything, about his boring life, his secret love for leather men, his loneliness and the wish to silence his parents voice in his head. “Can you help me, Doctor, I know, I am really messed up!”

The doctor smiled and patted Thomas’s knee with his big, fleshy and hairy hands. “I can assure you that you are not messed up. Not much. A lot of men go through this, it is just the way you were brought up, your socialization, so to speak. What you call your secret desire just shows that you need to come really out of the closet. I cannot do magic, you will not lay down being your old self and wake up being a self-confident muscular leather daddy, BUT I can help you to be free, to take things in your hand. And who knows, maybe you will get that earring in the end.” He laughed a very warm and nice, deep laugh and Thomas smiled. That would be a start.

The price for a therapy sitting was not quite cheap, but he had no hobbies and a good salary. It seemed worth the money and so he accepted a hypnosis-treatment for next Thursday. The doc was alone in his office once again. The minute he saw Thomas leave the building vis his security cam, he grabbed his phone.

“It’s me. Yes. I guess I found a new candidate. He is adorably naïve, that’s for sure. Oh yes, he will make a perfect puppy, yes, yes. Just be here 5:30 p.m, next Thursday. I will plant in the trigger word and he should be wax in your hands. Yes, yes, like always. It will last around 2 hours I guess, you can re-trigger him, but only once. When you are done with your job, just call me and we work on his brain a bit longer. Yeah, me, too. Ciao.” Boris had worked together with the Doc for several years now. It was not like his friend was sending him guys on a regular base, just now and then. Guys, who were trapped in their boring lives but had some kink in them. He loved transforming those boring guys in his puppies or rubber slaves – for a while, show them their dark sides and then let them go. He had met four guys like that over the last 15 years. It was not exactly a mafia going on here. He was just a very dominant leather master as was the doc, by the way. And from time to time, he loved having this absolute power over guys, who were unaware of what was happening to them. This Thomas would be his rubber-puppy for some days. He would get him all dressed up, cut his hair into a nice, short, manly cut and they would implant some ideas into his mind, like enjoying this new experience, growing a beard, finding his true self. It was kind of a charity, wasn’t it?

Thomas was nervous, when he came back to the doctor, nervous and excited. This time, they were in a room with a couch and he had to lay down after some small talk. The room was comfortable, warm and the lights dim. The doc had explained him that he had to relax. He drank a funny tasting herbal tea and listened to some smooth urban jazz music, while he actually started to feel relaxed. “Was there something in the tea?” he asked the doc and to his surprise he nodded. “Yes, actually it’s I magical concoction. The recipe is an old secret, given to witchdoctor after witchdoctor for hundreds of years!” Thomas stared at him, but the doc suddenly laughed. “Calm down, it’s just valerian, lemon balm and lavender. It helps you to relax and makes your more receptive to my messages.”

Thomas was not totally sure what was the truth here. But the tea had a calming effect to him. Not that he felt dizzy or strange, nor drug or drunk. He just could feel some warmth in his belly and that the tension in his muscles slowly went away. He felt comfortable and relaxed. And then, the hypnosis began. First, it was just music, a different music now. The doctor asked him to close his eyes and breath. “Just concentrate on your breath, slowly in, slowly out. Listen to the music”.

For the first five minutes or so, Thomas felt no changes, but then, kind of suddenly, he felt a very deep relaxation. It was like dreaming without sleeping in a way. He felt nice, and warm and safe, his arms and legs were heavy and he could actually feel all his muscle relax, even in his face. His mouth dropped open a bit, just as if he was sleeping.

The warm and deep voice of the doctor entered his mind, told him to breathe, concentrate on his voice and keep relaxed and calm. Thomas heard him speak, and speak and speak. A constant flow of words, but after a short time, he could not actually understand what the doc was saying. He felt the words, he felt the vibration of his deep timbre as if his bones swung with the voice. He felt his brain going soft, become liquid. Not a terrifying feeling at all. It was the deepest relaxation he had ever felt in his life.

“Now listen to me, my voice is all that matters now. Thomas, you are haunted by the ghosts of your past. You have to let all that go. You are the master of your life, not our daddy or your mummy, do you understand me, Thomas?” Thomas nodded but that was easier to say than to do. But wait, was it really?

“Thomas, do you see a box? Please, Thomas, imagine a box, a large box. Do you see it now?” Thomas nodded. It was big wooden box with metal fitting, a pirate-treasure box.

“Take all your fears, all your insecurities, and put them in that box for me! You can do it Thomas, just trust me, ok?” Thomas nodded again and started to pack rolls of paper into the box, all inscribed with his fears. He visualized the words. Always being tidy, always being perfect, always thinking what other may think of him. He put a photo of his parents into the box, too.

“Now, lock that box, close it, lock it and put the key aside, will you do that for me?” Thomas did as commanded.

“Now, Thomas, this is good. You are free now, free to discover who you really are. You are free to explore your true self now.” This affirmation went om for several minutes and the doc saw Thomas smiling broadly in his deep trance. So far, so good.

“Now, listen to me, Thomas. I will help you find your true self. When you leave my office after our session, you will meet a man, he is a nice man, a friendly man. When he asks you: “Can you tell me, what time it is” You will hear a click in your mind. This man is good for you, you will know that. You will be do, whatever he suggests, you know it is good what he wants. When he wants you to dress in different clothes, you will obey, when he ask you for a new haircut, your will obey. You know, all this is for your own good. You know, there is no danger. You know this is nothing but a game. And games are fun. You will actually enjoy doing what he says. Even when you are afraid, you know this is for your own good. You will obey, even if some of the commands may sound strange to you. In the end, you will be totally free, you can finally discover who you are. You appreciate the option he offers you.”

This went on for quite some time. The same message over and over again. After that, just some music, while the doc texted Boris. “Will be there!” was his answer. It was time to conclude the hypnosis.

Thomas was coming back to his senses. He felt great, still deeply relaxed and refreshed but he could not actually recapitulate the words of the therapist. He mentioned that to the doctor.

“That’s quite normal. I just made you lock away your fears and insecurities. Nothing to worry about. It can take some time for the hypnosis to take hold in your mental system, but it will work, I promise. We will have one session in about two weeks as re-affirmation. Don’t expect any miracles. I can jus help you discover, who you really are. It will take time for you to figure that out!” Boris was getting nervous. It was 5:20 already and he was stuck in traffic. Shit. He tried to call the doc, but he did not answer the phone. That was a good sign, it meant that the client was still with him. Ten minutes for 1,5 miles, normally no problem, but with traffic like that he would easily need 15 or 20 minutes. He sent a text message, asking the doc to hold his client back a bit. He arrived at the building 5:37 but could not find a spot to park his car. Damn it! Finally, he was back at the building, sweating. He checked his watch, 5:41 and still no Thomas. Good. He relaxed.

Thomas had left the building, feeling great. He was not sure what had actually happened to him, but he had put away his tie and had opened his shirt – just a bit. His jacket over the arm, he was standing in the afternoon sun. His mother would hate this look, the shirt not properly tugged in, jacket lose over the arm, shirt open, but he did not care. WOW. He really did not care. It was his first triumph! He wanted to go home, enjoy the warmth of the beginning evening, when somebody called “Hey, dude, canna tell mi whatz da time?” He stopped. It was as if he had heard a click in his mind. “Sure, it’s 5:33!” he turned around and looked up – and the smile in his face froze and turned to a kind of grimace. The guy who had asked him, was a filthy looking punk with a tall green mohawk. He was dressed in skinny leather jeans, a black shirt with the arms cut off, a leather vest with rivets, a belt with rivets, high, red boots, he had more metal than skin in his face and ink all over his body. But what shocked Thomas most was the smell. The guy smelled of pot, tobacco, beer, booze, sweat and piss.

“Thanks, mate, but ya know what, u look like a boring fucka! What ya need is a beer, heeheh!” No, he would not drink a beer with a punk. He tried to smile his politest smile and say goodbye, but something made him say: “You know what, that sounds like a fantastic idea. I am in fact very thirsty. So why not have a beer!”.

His mother would totally disapprove of him drinking with a punk and this alone made this a good idea right now. He could not lose anything. Ok, he would need to shower afterwards, he was sure of that. The punk seemed to be at least as surprised as Thomas was himself, but the guy laughed and gave Thomas a high five.

“Hadn’t thought a fucka like you would say, yes, hehe! Wan a smoke? Here!” He gave Thomas a self-rolled cigarette and for a second, Thomas wanted to decline the offer. He never smoked. His father would have killed him. But the punk smiled so nice and friendly, surely the punk only had good intentions. So instead of his natural reaction, he accepted. Of course, he coughed, but the punk explained him how to inhale, he kind of ordered him to smoke in the same way he did, and suddenly, Thomas stopped coughing. He smoked exactly in the way the punk had shown him.

The punk was very surprised. When he had stopped the guy, asking for the time, he just wanted to have some fun. He loved hanging out in this neighborhood and shock all the businessmen and housewives with his appearance. For him, it was fun, when they yelled at him or gave him names. He was here for the mere excitement and provocation. And now he was walking down the street with a guy, who had not yelled at him but actually accepted his offer. And now this smoking. He looked at the guy and could not believe what he saw. What a strange thing. But he still wanted to shock that guy- He would take him to the large house where he lived with several other punks…

Thomas was still not sure why he was following this punk, but it felt good to do something stupid, something had parents would hate, something his old self would have never done, not in a million years.

The neighborhood changed several times before they reached a area of the city, he had never been in before. It was surely not one of the better districts for the middle class. This was a od working class district, old houses, lots of immigrants, cheap shops, cheap cars. The punk had offered him a second cigarette and this time, he smoked it automatically in the way, the guy had shown him. They finally reached a house, that looked more like a ruin than an actual house people would live in. It was smeared with graffiti, some windows were closed with plastic bags or carton, there was garbage. Maybe this was not the best idea. He should find an excuse …

“What are ya waiting for, swing your ass inside!”. He would not harm him, so, ok, he would have a beer with that strange punk in that even stranger house, one beer and he would be on his way back home.

Inside, the smell was breathtaking. They entered a kind of large living room of a sort, filled with stained and old furniture, several sofas, matrasses, chairs – and punks. In the dim light he counted five, no, six, but he was sure there were more. Some had mohawks like the one who had invited him, one had a shaved head with only three long dreadlocks, one had a bihawk … all were heavily inked and dressed very similar to the punk, he had met first. Some were naked and to his shock he saw some making out openly for everybody to see. Oh lord, where had he himself gotten into?

“Ay mates, look what the cat dragged in!” the punk who invited him said and hugged the surprised Thomas, who could now actually TASTE the smell of the punk. The smell in the house seemed to be sticking to his skin, his hair and his clothes anyway. Some punks looked at him, others only nodded, and the three or four making out did not even look up. Still in the hug of the green-mohawk punk, he was guided to one of the sofas. “Sit down!” the punk said and after a second of hesitation – the sofa was disgusting – he did as commanded. A beer appeared out of thin air the punk opened his with his teeth. “Go on fucka!” the punk said and Thomas searched for something to open the bottle. There was a lighter but of course, Thomas could not open a bottle with a lighter, nor with the corner of the table, was a second punk was doing, the one with the bihawk. “Aehm, do you have an opener?” he asked and the punks laughed. “Nah fucka, take ya teeth!” He could never — but he tried. He nearly broke off a tooth trying and the punks laughed again. A third guy, the one with the dreadlocks, showed him how he did it. “No, you try it!” he said, and Thomas tried. The bottle was open, wow! The beer was cheap and warm, the smell was disgusting but in a very special way,

Thomas enjoyed the experience. Gay Punks, ha, who would have known that something like that even existed. For him, being here was the proof, that the hypnosis had worked. He did something unthinkable, something stupid and maybe dangerous. Strange, he had not thought about any dangers, like being robbed by those guys. He just knew they wanted only the best for him. Suddenly, the punk with the dreadlocks grabbed his dick and started to piss on Thomas who jumped form the sofa in sock and disgust. “Are you mad!!” he screamed but the other punks just looked, laughed and cheered, some rubbing their cocks. “Ah, fucka, you like that, don’t you, dats what ya needed, na? Yeah, you like it!” Thomas was still in shock, but the disgust was melting away. He had seen golden shower games in porn. Not exactly his taste, he had never understood why guys liked that. But it was nothing really bad, one should try everything, before saying one does not like it, right? Tough thought for a virgin, a tiny voice in his head said. And it was that tiny voice, that finally helped him to relax. It was a strange feeling and there was still a bit of disgust, especially when two other punks joined in and the jet hit his face and soaked his hair. But at the same time, he could feel a growing horniness. He was still not a particular fan but he could slowly understand, why people liked it. “Yeah, you like it, you love it! Yes fucka, open up, fucka!” one of the punks commanded and he could feel that he liked it more every second. Maybe it was something one needed to get used to. And to his own shock and surprise, he not only liked it, but opened his mouth, too. The punk cheered. “Look at dat lil’ fucka, dressed up all nicely and tidy but he is a real piggy, dat fucka. I guess, he likes us, I guess dat fucka wanna be one of us!” Thomas did not. Not really, not permanently, though. Not really being like them … on the other hand, he should enjoy this situation. Maybe he could finally lose his virginity.

While he was in thoughts, suddenly, one of the punks grabbed him by his neck and filled his mouth with his spit and then with his rough, wet, smelly, pierced tongue. He opened his eyes in shock and saw that it was a punk, he had not even noticed before, muscular and with a short red mohawk. A second punk was ripping off his soaked shirt and they laughed, when they saw his white wifebeater. The punk kissing him tore the ugly piece of clothes open and Thomas was shocked but so horny right now. Somebody was massaging his cock, oh man, nobody had ever that his cock except himself. He felt like in those American Pie movies, afraid to just shoot his load into his pants. “Gimme dat dick!” he heard a voice command and he helped to open his pants but then he heard a ripping sound and saw a guy holding a nasty looking knife in his hand. Before he could get afraid, the red punk came back and kissed him. So, Thomas could only hear the guy with the knife cut away his pants and his underpants. He nearly screamed in ecstasy, when he felt a wet and warm mouth close around his shaft.

“Don’t ya come now, fucka, we have plans!” his old friend, the green mohawk, commanded and what a strange thing, he could feel the twitching in his balls and cock ease. He was still super horny but now, he was not longer afraid of coming too soon. He could enjoy the blow job and the kissing even more now.

The red mohawk grabbed him by his hair. “Hey, fucka, what is dat mess ya calling haircut. If ya wann be my fuck toy for t’night, we gonna change that!” Thomas was afraid and tried to say no, but the punk sealed his mouth with his tongue. “Ya get a new style dat fits in here, no question, dat’s a damn command!” the bald punk with the dreadlocks said and Thomas relaxed. They would not give him a stupid haircut. If getting his boring hair cut was the price for his first sexual encounter, then it was worth. He wanted to try a shorter hair anyway. Some of the punks in the room had spiked up hair, maybe he would end up like them? The red mohawk was now sitting on his lap, nailing him to the sofa, still kissing him, when he heard a humming sound. He could not see a thing, but he felt clippers, old and very heavy clippers, mow his hair away. He did not see a thing, he only felt hands moving his head not very gentle and he felt the clipper dance on his head. He had no idea, how short they were cutting his hair or what it would look like the in the end, but to his own surprise, he could not care less.

In the end, it was just hair, and hair would grow back. After minutes of brutal shearing, he felt warm piss running over his head and he knew, that it was damn short. The red punk now held his face between his hand, firm and straight, while another punk covered a large amount of his skull with shaving foam. Bald. Fuck. Ah, damn it, he could wear a hat. His mother would kill him, hahaha, yeah, that was the best part about it. The shaving with a cheap disposable razor began and he kind of got an idea of what he would look like later. What he did not expect was, that the clippers came back and shaved off his brows. That was too much! Shit, he got to carried away, he “You love dat, lil’ fucka, I can see dat!” the red punk said. And Thomas relaxed. He was sure that look would be brutal and he would regret it later, but right now, all he wanted was to please his new friends and get laid. He even allowed them to shave the brows smooth, down to the skin. “Look at da lil’ fucka, already looking much better!” he heard green mohawk say, who rubbed the smooth areas of Thomas’s head. “Yah, much betta, but he need some ink and some metal!”

Now, Thomas knew, it was time to end that game. Getting a strange haircut as the price for a blow job and some hot making out was one thing, but getting inked or pierced, that was way too much. Yes, sure, his mother and father would have it and he always liked some small ink on his fantasy leather guys, but no, thank you!

“Yeah, dat lil’ fucka needs a good marking, som’ing dat shows is part of da gang! Yeah, lil’ fucka, ya get the gang branding, we mark you, dat is what we want and what we will do, cause you need dat, don’t ya?”

No, no, he actually did not need that. But on the other hand. They would not do anything really supid? Nah, never … a tiny tattoos, on his arm maybe … it was surely not the most hygienic place to get a tatoo but … they grabbed him and carried him to a table. His protest was merely symbolic, he kind of gave into the idea already. Thomas knew, something was wrong. It was a strange feeling. He knew that he should not be here, he knew, he was acting strangely and he knew that what would happen next was absolutely the worst idea of his entire life. But it was his decision, in a way. Right now, it was all he wanted and all he ever wanted. Right now, it felt very good to make bad choices.

But even in this state of mind, he had neither expected the pain of a tattoo nor that three punks would tattoo him simultaneously, while some punk force-fed him with booze and spit. There were breaks and after around 1 hour of inking, one punk asked “Ey, what time is it?” Thomas kind of relaxed, when he heard those words, he still knew that it was absolutely crazy, he still knew he would probably (no, surely!) regret this later, but at the same time he gave into the experience, now nearly enjoyed the strange constant pain. A second break with some nice cock sucking – it was the first time, Thomas had a cock in his mouth and he was afraid to choke, but when the punk ordered him to do it “properly” he was suddenly able to take the full length of that smelly pierced cock. Then, the inking was over and Thomas realized that he had felt pain and pleasure but could not tell, what had been inked. That was really strange, wasn’t it? Surely, they had chosen discrete parts as they were interested in the best for him. “Now some metal and dat lil’ fucka finally looks like a propper mate! Get dat nose pierced and those ears!” the red punk commanded, and Thomas accepted the orders. He always wanted an earring, remember? And you can take out a piercing. So, no problem. The pain in the nose was bad, but the red punk kissed him wet and deep and that help him forget the pain. The ears were not that bad …

There was no mirror anywhere in the room but now, standing naked in the living room, he saw the ink. For a second, panic was creeping up his spine. His right arm sported a tribal, black and heavy, from his shoulder down to his wrist, with some of the lines ending on his hand. On the back of his left hand was a skull with the letters G and P, gay punk, the groups branding. He had seen that all of them sported that tattoo, he should have known – oh lord, and they all had the same tattoo at the left side of the neck, a skull in flames, again with G and P and automatically his hand reached out for his neck. The skin was hot and felt sore, oh god, oh god! He touched his head, too. Mostly smooth, shaved skin, but there was hair … his bangs were still there and small tuft in the back, like a mini rattail. “We braid som’ing in that fucking rattgail!” the punk with the dreadlocks said and the green mohawk rubbed Thomas’s head again. “Ya look great now, lil’ fucka. I know, ya will fuckin’ lova dat look, we do, and so must you!”

Loving was too big a word, but the panic disappeared and again he felt a strange sensation of being in the best hands, being safe and being cared for. So he sat down and allowed the dreadlock-punk to braid long strands of neon green, blue and red artificial hair into the small tuft at the back of his head.

While Thomas sat on the chair, a new punk with a ice-blue mohawk sucked his dick and a third one with neon green hair stuffed his cock into Thomas’s mouth. He still knew that all these were bad decisions, things he knew he would regret the moment he left this house, and still he was horny and calm, enjoying all the fun he had. Thinking about the fact, that he had been totally deformed and transformed by all those punks, turned into one of them was so hot, cause it was all his parents would hate and condemn. The thought of his mother’s face, nearly made him cum. But he had not got the order to cum and so he didn’t. They grabbed him and forced him to one of the matrasses. He was in heaven. He knew what would come, he knew, his virgin days were over. His first time. Here and now. And so it started with the red punk who ordered him to take it like a man and so the pain eased away, giving way to pleasure, when the thick cock entered his virgin ass.

Every punk – and suddenly there seemed to be more – had his turn and all told him, he loved it – and so he did. And he did not only receive, oh no, virginboy-no-more-Thomas had his share in active penetration as well and when they ordered him to be ruthless, he was. It was as if he had never done anything but smoking, spitting, fucking and pissing. Orgasm after orgasm sent him to the heavens – and some pot and beer helped him there.

When it was done, there was just a pile of bodies, soaked in piss, sweat, cum and beer – and Thomas was a part of that pile, enjoying every second of it, taking in the smell deep, trying to keep it. He had to walk around a bit and he needed some water so, with deep regrets, he grabbed his way out of the pile of stinking punks.

In the kitchen, he looked at the clock. It was, as if that set something in motion. The smell turned from being hot and delicious to disgusting and revolting. He looked at the stained glass he just had drank from and nearly vomited. What had he done? He was shaking, the panic he had waited for, now hit him like a bus. Why had he accepted to go with that punk? What made him decide to let him cut his hair and get him inked. He looked at the rudely made ink he could see and thought about the heavy mark on his neck. His nose suddenly ached and he touched the ring dangling from it. He was shaking, he was terrified, he was … why was he shocked?

He thought about the box. All his useless fears were inside the box. Hidden away. His new personality was still kind of blank, the new Thomas who would take matters in his own hands and would not care about other persons opinions. He closed his eyes and saw that clean, pure, new-born Thomas and he concentrated. He saw that inner self change, getting a shaved head with bangs and a long rattail in the back, the naked body got inked with a heavy tribal, a skull on the back of his hand and a second one at his neck. He saw the piercings now clearly. It was as if he was looking into a mirror. He saw the inner Thomas in punk clothes now, leather skinny jeans, leather vest, he saw him smoke a self-rolled ciggi. This all made sense. This was the real inner Thomas, no Tommy aka li’l Fucka. Maybe this gay punk had always slept deep inside the tidy Thomas. He should be afraid, he should be concerned. He had a job, he had a flat, he had parents. He had a job he hated, an office filled with people who ignored him, he had a flat that was as personal as a hotel room and he had a father who wanted his son to be his clone, a mother who wanted a doll, to manipulate and play with.

He would need to get used to live with the guys, being a punk, but something told him, all would be alright. For the first time in his life, Tommy really made a decision. And this decision was, that he would go back to the boys for a second round …

[freegardenergladiator]

Putain quelle chance...

[masterwolftfs]

It was another one of those days. Rain crashing down, everyone looking pissed or gloomy, and you felt like absolute shit, aimlessly wandering about the town square, nothing to do, nowhere to go. You'd found yourself going in and out of various stores, seeing if you could perhaps buy anything to cheer you up, but nothing had worked so far. So here you were, £50 poorer with nothing to show for it other than a few bits and bobs that you couldnt remember buying.

Your phone buzzed, so you checked it. Another overdue bill notification, you sighed. Was that the fifth now? You'd lost count. Overwhelmed, you ducked into an alley, resisting the urge to breakdown and cry, and sunk to the ground, face in your hands, trying desperately not to break.

Things seemed hopeless, and they had for a while.

The rain kept pouring down, chilling you to the bone, and that snapped you out of it. You looked around for an overhang to sit under, some shelter, and saw it. A leather jacket, just abandoned by a trash can. You'd already sank low enough, you figured, so why not put it on for some warmth? You stumbled over to it and wrapped it around your cold frame. Underneath it was a beer bottle, completely sealed. What the hell, you thought, and picked it up. Hesitant to drink it, you didnt open it yet.

The jacket did smell a bit, you had to admit. A combination of wet leather, smell from being in proximity with the trash, and was that weed? But it was warmer with it on, and even if it didnt protect from the rain, it was better with it than without.

Absentmindedly, you found yourself walking back around the streets, heading back on the route youd initially come, then taking a few turns til you were in a place you didnt recognise. Everythings fine, you thought, and didnt worry. You found yourself knocking on someones door, and waiting. Why did you knock here? You thought, but you couodnt figure it out. After a long wait, the door opened to a man who shouldve looked terrifying to you, but you werent scared at all. He was short, and lean, but he was covered in piercings and tatts, his hair styled up into a bright blue and green mohawk. Not the kind of man youd want or expect to meet, but your body seemed to instinctively go in for the hug, and his stern face seemed to smile at you warmly. He kissed you, and it felt like you were short circuiting, your brain forgetting how to function, how to think, and for a second, you felt nothing but lust for this man in front of you. He stopped the kiss, and you returned to your normal self. Dazed, you followed him inside the house.

The house wasn't exactly clean, and a strong scent filled the air, that of cum, piss, cheap deoderant, musk and weed. It mingled in your brain, short circuiting it again and overwriting it.

"Yo Connah!" Said the punk, chucking a pair of clearly used, reeking combat boots at you. "Give em a sniff my man"

And you did. In bliss, shoving it to your nose, almost as if this man's words forced you too. Your body ached as you lost yourself in the smell, muscles growing, getting you taller by the second.

"Connah?" You thought. That didnt seem right. Was that your name? Of course it was, your boyfriend wouldnt lie to you. Wait. Boyfriend? What were you think-

Your thought process was interrupted by a hand on your cock, springing it to life, the punk looking directly at you while slowly but surely teasing your cock, working the foreskin back and letting his hands touch your glans, causing ripples of sensitivity and pleasurable pain to course through you. With each pulse, yiu lost yourself more and more. A cocky, dominant personality overwriting you. "Put em on me, bitch." You sneered, causing the punk to gulp and take the boots, sliding them onto your feet. Instinctively, you stood on him, pushing his face under your massive foot. He moaned, and you laughed. "Thats right bitch. You're mine now." You, no, Connah sneered. You were Connah now, you akways had been. Alpha, leader, cocky punk. You didnt remember the punk's name, but who cared? He was nothing more than your bitch anyway, and he wouldn't be the last. Connah was back bitches, and he was gonna make the entire town his gang.

[freegardenergladiator]

OI OI OI ...

[trucker-95]

#Shave eyebrows

[freegardenergladiator]

Oui tout...

[haircutfetishb]

[freegardenergladiator]

Bien vu...

[smokestart]

This hot taxi driver is really enjoying his smoke I could barely breathe being in the car with him with all the windows closed 🚬🚬🚬

Like and reblog if you wanna take a ride with him too 🔥🔥🔥

[freegardenergladiator]

En route...

[rhaminagrobice]

Kraftwerk - Das Model

[subskinsworld]

Kraftwerk - Das Model

[freegardenergladiator]

Je suis fan depuis longtemps...

[smokermarc]

[freegardenergladiator]

Trop bon...

[hornystud47yo]

[feastofguys]

Buck wasn’t the smartest dude but he was so hot. He worked for my dad and lived on property. I would sneak a peek of him showering or pissing. Sometimes I would catch him undressing. A couple of times he caught me sniffing his dirty underwear but he didn’t say anything. He caught me outside with my hand in my dick and his ripe underwear on my face. He took my belt and turned it into a harness. Next thing I knew, he had his dick in my ass and was stretching my hole. I was begging him to unload his jizz inside of me. He told me that he would be fucking me every time he caught me sniffing his underwear. I plan on being caught every day. And maybe he’ll let me taste his ass instead of just smelling his dirty underwear. Damn i love men and their sexy bodies.

[freegardenergladiator]

Je veux bien tous les jours aussi...

[justsmokingmen]

kiss and smoke

[freegardenergladiator]

Baiser et fumer...

[une-valse-pour-rien]

Cliché anyway

[freegardenergladiator]

Tout sur place ...

[leesewhong-deactivated20140306]

这个草莓应该很好吃的喔^O^

[asiantop4u]

Yummy

[viennaguy]

YUM. some asian master please make me eat this.

[fruitclub]

creamy fruit

[freegardenergladiator]

Humm c'est la saison...

[4-arab-gay-slave-fantasy]

THE ARAB DOCTOR HIRES A HOUSE BOY

Part one

by [email protected]

Sometimes, when people with a very high sex drive find themselves going through a dry patch, they get creative. My name is JC. I'm a late 20's, all American male with a good job in sales. I have a nice car and a nice apartment here in Los Angeles, but I haven't had a serious girlfriend in almost a year.

I'm a little over five feet, six inches tall, and I'm very physically fit. I spend plenty of time lifting weights at the gym, or running out on the trails. People tell me I'm funny, and I don't think I'm a dork, so I've become a little frustrated that I still find myself alone. I'm very disappointed that my only sexual outlet at the moment is internet porn and, well, you get the picture.

One weeknight, after maybe one too many cocktails, I decided to turn to craigslist to see if I could find someone who might be as desperate as I. Scrolling thought the list of categories, I quickly found "Girls Seeking Guys," and clicked the link. To my despair, most of the posts were very old, and few seemed like someone my type. After all, I wasn't looking for a BBW who wanted to be a pillow princess, and I certainly wasn't looking to be "generous".

Out of curiosity, I clicked on the "Guys seeking Guys" link, and was frankly surprised by the number of posts. There seemed to be pages of recent posts, and these horn dogs were getting right to the point in their graphic titles. As I glanced down the list, I couldn't deny that I was getting very aroused reading just the titles of each post.

Somewhere, in the middle of the first page, one post jumped out at me.

"Doctor seeks houseboy," the title said. I clicked on the post and started reading the contents.

"Doctor in his 50's seeks younger man to perform duties at my private home, 3 days a week," that was it. That was the entire post.

I was oddly curious about what this doctor was seeking. I wondered why he needed a houseboy, and what "duties" would he need performed.

So, I clicked reply.

"Hi, I'm 28, I have a full time job in sales, but I could be available after work if that interests you," I typed.

I then entered my email in the box as requested, and paused.

"What the hell," I thought, and pressed send.

I closed my laptop, poured myself another cocktail and planted myself on the couch in front of the TV.

Unexpected Response Comes Quickly

A few minutes later, my phone made the familiar "ding" of an incoming email. I looked down at my phone, expected some annoying work email, but instead, I found a new email in my personal inbox. It was a reply from the craigslist doctor.

"Are you willing to work naked?" was the entire reply.

I smiled my usual mischievous smile I get when moderately buzzed, and typed, "Yes."

A few seconds later, the doctor again replied, "When would you like to interview?"

"Interview? Who the hell is this guy, and is he actually serious?" I wondered.

My curiosity was piqued. It didn't help that I was sporting a pretty high blood alcohol level, and I had gone without any real sex for almost four months.

"After work, this week?" I replied, and pressed send.

Seconds later, there was an incoming response, "Wednesday 7:00 pm”

The directions included the address of a home in Beverly Hills.

The address was in an upscale part of Beverly Hills on the western side of Los Angeles. It was known for it's sprawling ranch homes and country club setting. If this was really his home, then he must be a doctor, or a lawyer, or someone successful. I was no longer concerned about meeting a crazed axe murderer.

"Axe murderer, are you crazy? There's no way you're going to do this!" my subconscious screamed.

I've never considered myself gay, but I was pretty drunk and incredibly horny. I couldn't stop myself from typing.

"See you then," I replied and paused briefly before hitting send.

Wednesday Morning

Wednesday was a usual workday, I'd almost forgotten about my drunk email exchange with the doctor on Monday night. Around 11am, a new personal email arrived. It was from the doctor.

"Instructions," read the title of the email.

I closed my office door, returned to my desk and opened the email.

There was a single text block that read:

"You will arrive promptly at 7pm to the address I've previously provided. The garage door will be open and the left most slot will be available for you. Park in the garage, then close the garage door using the button on the wall. Once the door is closed, remove all of your clothing, and set your folded clothes in the bin on the floor by the door to the house. Enter the house, proceed through the laundry area and you will find further instructions on the kitchen island. Ensure that your privates are freshly shaved. I have no use for a hairy houseboy."

I was a little stunned by the clinical nature of the note, but even more surprised by the erection forming in my pants. My curiosity had completely overtaken the logical part of my brain. It didn't help that my libido had gone into "beast mode," in prior days, when I started all this by browsing craigslist.

My hands shook with excitement as I typed, "Yes, Doctor." Then, without pausing, I pressed send.

I couldn't focus on work for the balance of the day. I faked my way through a series of prospect calls, and left work early so I could get in a workout and clear my mind.

It was a very warm summer day, so I decided to sweat out my anxiety and go for a long run. Soon, I was too warm to leave my shirt on, so I had it wrapped around my fist as I ran along the park trails near my apartment. It didn't escape me that I was a being quietly admired by other female runners as we passed along the way.

"Why would you even think about being some weirdo's houseboy?" my mind's voice asked.

"Look at all of these sweaty, attractive women out here getting their workouts done, and you're thinking about stripping for some old doctor in an upscale home?" my mind continued scolding.

There was something so forbidden about this strange encounter that hooked my imagination. What was this doctor seeking? Did he just want a young naked thing to stare at while it completed housework? Or was it something even more forbidden?

My run passed by quickly as I was lost in my thoughts. I returned to my apartment and cooled off on my porch with a tall cool drink. I opened the doctor's email again and read the instructions. It was settled, I was too curious to keep myself from at least finding out what was next. I was going to follow his instructions as a first step.

The First Meeting

After a shower (and a fresh shave as instructed), I decided that since it was so warm, there was no need to overdress for the drive to the home on Wilshire. So I pulled on a pair of shorts, a light shirt and a pair of sandals. No underwear. I was going commando for this first meeting, since I was planned to strip in the garage anyway.

I made the drive through the winding hills that surrounded the doctor's upscale suburb, I had the windows open on my 3 series as I followed the directions provided by my phone. While I was familiar with the suburb, I had never really visited anyone who lived there. I wasn't surprised at the size of the homes, but I was surprised that they were all closely placed on rather small lots.

I guess it made sense, since this was an older suburb, very conveniently located near downtown; land was at a premium. I followed the directions provided, and soon I was on Wilshire.

As I pulled up to 1480, I discovered a large formal rambler with a perfectly manicured lawn that must certainly have been professionally managed. It was still light outside, but I didn't notice a lot of activity. No kids playing, no families walking by, it was almost uncomfortably peaceful. Probably, I reasoned, because all of the residence were well off, and later in life.

I noticed that one of the three garage doors was indeed open, and there was space available. My heart started to race as I pulled up the drive and pulled into the open stall.

"You can still back out!" my mind screamed in my head. "Just put it in reverse and get the hell out of here."

Instead, my hands betrayed me and pulled the parking brake and turned off the ignition. I sat in the car for a moment, with the heat and humidity of the July evening surrounded me while I sat motionless in my car. As if in a trance, I opened the door and climbed out of my car. I walked over to the wall and pressed the button. The garage door started to close.

As I turned to look back at my car, I noticed that the garage was clean and relatively empty, there were two other cars parked in the other stalls. Both of them were late model luxury vehicles. One was a sedan, the other, an SUV. The garage was completely absent of any clutter.

As the garage door rattled and hummed while it closed, I realized I was now kind of committed. I knew that the doctor would have heard the garage door.

"You're still outside the home, there's no reason to push this further," the voice in my head tried reasoning.

I stepped onto the mat outside the door and looked down to see an empty clothes basket just as the doctor mentioned in his instructions.

"You're still dressed, you can re-open the garage door, get in your car, and stop now!" the same voice said in a tone that now indicated stress.

Before my mind could utter another word, I looked down and saw my summer weight golf shirt folded in the clothes bin.

"It's just you're shirt," my mind whispered, "You can still stop."

I stood there shirtless for what seemed like 10 minutes, then I realized my thumbs were inside my waistband and my hands were sliding down my legs towards my knees.

As my waistband inched toward my knees, my rock hard cock sprung out, slapping against my stomach. I let my shorts fall to the garage floor and then picked them up and put them in the basket.

I looked down at my freshly shaved, rock hard cock. I kept it shaved because my last girlfriend liked it that way. I also thought that shaving it made my 6.5" length look more like 7+ inches. But tonight, my cock was freshly shaved because I was following the doctor's instructions.

Lit by the automatic garage door light, I stood wearing only a pair of sandals and a raging hard on. I stepped out of the sandals and placed them next to the bin on the floor.

"Dude, your stark naked in some stranger's garage. Have you lost your mind!" my inner voice shouted. "Get your clothes back on and get the hell out of here!"

Looking forward, I see my hand is already on the door knob about to open the door into the doctor's house. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and turn the knob.

"No!!!!" my mind's voice screamed.

I ignored it and stepped inside, stark naked, driven by my libido and my curiosity, literally following the head of my cock into my interview.

———————————————-

As I entered the doctor's home, I was incredibly aroused. I found it exciting to be walking into a stranger's home completely naked, ready to follow the instructions waiting for me in the kitchen.

The house was oddly quiet as I carefully walked through the laundry room and into the large gourmet kitchen. It was 7pm sharp on a warm July evening. The air conditioning was on creating a noticeable contrast to the heat of the garage. All of the curtains and blinds were open, allowing the sun to flow into the kitchen that adjoined the laundry area.

I was a little nervous exiting the laundry room into the kitchen due to a set of patio doors that opened onto an elevated deck in the back yard. As I looked through the patio doors, I could see into the neighbor's home on the lot across the back yard. I assumed that since I could see into their home, they could likely see me standing naked in the doctor's kitchen.

I quickly made my way over to the kitchen island where I found a single sheet of paper with a set of typed instructions. I stood at the island where the neighbor's view was almost completely obstructed.

I started to read the instructions:

"On the island, you will find a platter and two martini glasses. In the freezer, you will find bottles of Bombay Sapphire gin and Belvedere vodka.

"Prepare me a Belvedere martini and add two pearl onions from the refrigerator using the swizzle sticks in the holder on the island. Prepare yourself a martini, and place them both on the platter."

I stopped to look around for a moment to calm myself before continuing on with the note.

It continued:

"If you wear glasses or contacts, please remove them before joining me in the study for your interview.

"As an eye surgeon, I don't consider you naked if you are wearing corrective eyewear. You will find the necessary saline solution and contact case on the kitchen island for your use as needed.

"Once you are truly naked, serve me my martini in the study near the south side of the home."

I stepped to the sub-zero refrigerator, and pulled out the gin and the vodka from the freezer. The olives and onions were near the front of the fully stocked refrigerator. I poured the doctor's vodka martini first, and carefully added the two pearl onions as he instructed.

I placed the doctor's martini on the platter and started to work on a gin version with olives which I preferred. Once both martinis were complete, I put all the ingredients back in their respective places, and re-read the instructions to make sure I had done everything correctly.

"What's with the contact lenses?" I thought to myself. "I'm blind as a bat without my contacts."

With quivering hands, I carefully removed each contact and placed them in the provided case using the available saline solution. As I looked up from the island, I now saw only blurred light instead of sharp images. I could make out the large opening into the living room at the front of the house, but almost all the details were obscured.

I took a few breaths to calm myself. This was getting a little weirder than I could manage, even in my heightened state of arousal.

"Something's not right here," my mind's voice said sternly. "You can't see, and now he is instructing you to drink martinis!"

Houseboy Serves the Doctor

I reached down for the platter and steadied myself before lifting it for my journey to the study (wherever that was).

I slowly made my way across the formal living room. The focal point of the living room was a large picture window, common for the home's era. The window was uncovered, allowing the bright evening sun to shine in from the west, illuminating the entire room. My nearsightedness kept me from wondering if I was visible to any neighbors who might be enjoying an evening walk.

As I crossed the foyer, I found two short hallways. Not knowing which hallway led to the study, I called out, "Doctor?"

"Back here!" came a voice from the hallway near the front of the house.

The voice had a Middle Eastern accent that seemed familiar but I couldn't quite pinpoint. I proceeded into the hallway following the voice. My body felt the warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the wall of glass that looked onto the front lawn. Once again I was worried about exposing myself to the neighborhood.

The study was dark in contrast. Each wall was covered with dark alder book cases. Each case was lined with a full complement of books. The desk was also made from knotty alder, and all of the chairs and the couch were covered in dark leather.

On the leather couch sat the doctor, in a formal robe, with an iPad in his lap. My extreme nearsightedness and the darkness of the room prevented me from clearly seeing the doctor's features. I could tell that his skin color was much darker than mine.

"Set the platter on the table here, boy," the doctor said as he rose from the couch.

I acknowledge him by following his instructions. I stood waiting for my next instruction.

"Take my robe, and fold it over my desk chair," he said as he turned his back and removed his robe and handed it to me.

As I walked to the chair to hang the robe, I looked up to see a blurred nude man sitting back down on the leather couch. I placed the robe carefully over the chair and returned to stand in front of the doctor.

"Hand me my martini, boy," the doctor asked quietly. "Then take a few sips of your own cocktail, and kneel at my feet."

I carefully handed the doctor his vodka martini with two pearl onions, my hands visibly shaking as I reached out to place it in his hand. With my mind racing, I took two large swallows of my gin martini, paused, and then took a third. There remained only a small amount left in my glass.

"Take the platter, and make yourself another," the doctor's tone made it clear this was not a request but a command.

I took the platter and made my way back through the bright hallway, across the living room and into the kitchen.

"Now's your chance to get the hell out of here!" the voice in my head shouted. "Just leave the platter, get your clothes, and drive!"

I set the platter on the island and paused. My curiosity and arousal were now both too strong. Worse yet, the martini was rushing to my head, further fueling my arousal and simultaneously lowering my anxiety.

"I'll have one more martini and get out of here," I thought.

Leaving the same olives in the glass, I prepared myself another martini. I took two large sips from my fresh martini and then topped off the glass for good measure. With platter back in hand, I headed back to the study.

The Interview

I returned to the study to find the doctor sipping his martini.

"Place the platter on the table and kneel at my feet," he instructed.

I knelt at the feet of the dark skinned, naked figure in front of me. I lowered my head to quickly check at the state of my hard on. As expected, my cock was at full staff, giving away my arousal. Looking back up at the doctor, I could still not clearly see his facial features.

His skin, hair and eyes were definitely dark. His nose looked bigger than mine but that's about all I could see with my limited eyesight.

"Are you nearsighted?" the doctor asked. "Stop squinting and your eyes will better adjust to the light."

"Yes, Sir," I answered, trying not to squint.

"You will call me Sayidi," the doctor instructed firmly. "Do you know what Sayidi means in Arabic?"

"No, Sir," I answered.

"In my language, Sayidi means Master or Owner."

"Yes, Sayidi," I replied quietly.

"Have you been a houseboy before?" Sayidi asked.

"No, Sayidi."

"In the UAE, United Arab Emerites, it is common for successful men to have houseboys that serve them in many ways," Sayidi continued, casually taking a sip of his martini. "Now that I have made my home here in your country, I am seeking such a boy to tend to my needs."

While Sayidi was talking, I found myself glancing at his crotch area. It was blurry, but I could still make out some large equipment between his thighs. I couldn't clearly determine what was cock and what was balls, but the entire package looked pretty big for a guy who was maybe 6'2" in stature. At my height, of 5’6” ,it would be considered huge.

"May I have another sip of my martini, Sayidi?" I asked.

"If you wish," Sayidi waved towards my glass.

As I sipped a long swallow from my martini, my buzz grew more prominent.

"I have a gardener, a housekeeper, and a chef, so I don't need more domestic help," Sayidi clarified as he took another sip. "You will do things for me of a softer nature."

I knelt quietly, asking myself, "Why are you letting this continue?"

"I have three questions for you that you must answer honestly," Sayidi proceeded.

"First, are you straight?" Sayidi paused.

"Yes," I answered.

"Good, you must be straight. That is an unbreakable requirement. Are you a virgin?" Sayidi waited for my response.

"No, Sayidi, of course not," my speech slurred slightly in a rush to respond.

"I meant with a man," Sayidi clarified.

"Well, I've never been with a man, so I guess that makes me a virgin in that regard."

Sayidi paused and took another sip from his martini.

"Boys must not be disrespectful," Sayidi scolded. "Try your answer again."

"Yes, Sayidi, I am a virgin," I replied in an apologetic tone.

"Finally, are you a discrete boy?" Sayidi asked. "I wouldn't want you to disclose our arrangement to others, is that something that you can promise?"

"Yes, Sayidi," I answered.

My mind's voice shouted, "What the fuck are you doing? Hasn't this gone just about far enough? You're naked on your knees here, interviewing to be his gay house pet!"

Something was happening to me in that dark study. I had allowed myself to become far too excited about the forbidden nature of this meeting. I was certain I wasn't gay, but there was something about being in this submissive role that had me in a spell.

"These are all acceptable answers," Sayidi paused to take another sip from his martini glass.

"Now for some rules," he continued.

"First, when you are in my home, I will refer to you as boy. When I send you emails or talk to you over the phone, I will call you Wulid. That is Arabic for boy. Sayidi has no interest in learning or using your given name.

"Second, when you visit my home, you will always leave your clothing in the garage as you did this evening. No exceptions. A boy has no need for clothing when he is in service to Sayidi. This includes your contact lenses, you must be truly naked here. You will also keep your pubic area freshly shaven.

"Third, boy will make himself available three times a week. Sayidi is on vacation this week, but on most weeks, I will need you when I have a light surgical schedule the following day.

"I often have colleagues to my home as guests. You will not address these guests directly unless they address you. You will treat these guests with the same respect you will learn to show me.

"Finally, boy will fully comply with Sayidi's requests. If boy hesitates or denies a request, Sayidi may give him a second chance. If boy fails to comply after multiple requests, boy will no longer be needed and this arrangement will end.

"These instructions will be printed and placed on the kitchen island for review each time you return to my home."

"May I have another sip of my Martini?" I asked, considering the litany Sayidi just delivered.

"Yes, boy," Sayidi said, as he took a sip of his own, now nearly empty, martini.

"Sayidi needs another martini," he said setting his glass on the platter.

"Yes, Sayidi," I answered as I picked up the platter with both of our glasses and headed back to the kitchen to prepare another round.

I was fully feeling the impact of the two martinis I had quickly consumed. I wasn't drunk, but I did have a very nice buzz. My hard cock bounced between my thighs as I made my trek through the living room. It was now a little before 8pm and the sun had fallen lower in the sky. An orange hue bathed the formal living room.

As I prepared our drinks, it occurred to me that I was more aroused by this situation than I had been in a very long time. Something about allowing this doctor to call me "boy" and giving me his rules and instructions while "truly naked," as he called it, was triggering new pleasure centers in my brain.

The kinky and forbidden nature of my arousal felt exotic. I was in new territory, fueled by my curiosity and, more likely, by the cocktails. I wasn't worried or concerned about what others would think, I just wanted more of whatever this was.

I returned to the study, placed the platter on the table as I had done before. I handed Sayidi his fresh martini and took a sip from mine before I took my spot, on my knees, at Sayidi's feet.

Sayidi took a sip from his martini and then placed it on the table.

"You need to come closer," he said as he spread his dark legs causing his large equipment to adjust and settle into a new position.

I shuffled closer while staying on my knees, my waist just outside Sayidi's knees and my arms resting awkwardly on the outside of this thighs.

Sayidi reached down and lifted his cock holding it up so I could get a better look.

"You need to understand that I am a surgeon, I am too accomplished for someone like you to address me directly. This is Sayidi," he said, looking down at his own cock, as he held it up so I could focus on it at the same time.

"This is your new owner. When you use the word Sayidi, you should be looking here and addressing my penis," he continued. "This is who you will serve in my home."

"Okay, this just jumped the fuckin' shark!" my mind screamed, almost laughing in disgust. "He wants you to address his cock like it's your master?"

"Yes, Sayidi," I answered looking directly at his dark, uncut cock.

Drunk with gin and sheer arousal, I was OK with the bizarre scene in which I found myself willfully immersed. I started to think that I was ready to be Sayidi's boy. Maybe I even wanted to be a good boy.

————————————

Point of No Return

"Are you willing to accept these rules?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, Sayidi," I answered while looking at the doctor's uncut cock, to show that I understood who I was addressing.

"Good boy," Sayidi said. "I will now teach you how to give me what I need."

"As a surgeon, I need to keep my mind clear of distraction. I can't allow myself to endure any type of mental discomfort. This includes sexual frustration. Do you understand, boy?"

"Yes, Sayidi," I answered while looking directly at the doctor's cock and balls.

I was shocked to find myself reduced to someone, naked, on his knees, being called boy. Now, I had fallen even further by tacitly agreeing that someone of my social standing is only worthy of addressing the doctor's cock, rather than the man himself.

"As an accomplished man, I have a prominent penis and heavy testicles that fill with semen quickly," Sayidi explained, clinically, "I have found that when my testicles are full, I become frustrated which distracts me from my work.

"You will help me maintain my focus by doing as I ask, do you understand?" Sayidi waited for my acknowledgement.

"Are you going to ask me to empty your balls for you, Sayidi?" I asked.

"No, boy, I would not let something this important be left to your feeble discretion," Sayidi snarked in a tone that was clearly full of disdain.

"I am going to tell you exactly how I want you to empty my large testicles. I will give you exact instructions until you learn to perform the simple task perfectly," Sayidi continued.

I felt him looking at me intently, as I continued to only look at his cock as he held it up with his right hand.

"Are you ready to learn how to fellate Sayidi?" he asked, still holding his cock up for my benefit.

I was at the point of no return. If I didn't leave now, this was going further than I had ever thought this encounter would go. I had been seriously horny and curious, but now I had to consider the consequences of my actions.

As I searched my feelings, I started to realize that I wasn't curious anymore. I now wanted this to happen. I wanted to know how it felt to be Sayidi's boy. I could make myself available and follow the rules, I thought. I can stop any time I want. Right now, I don't want to stop.

"Yes, Sayidi," I answered while still looking at the doctor's growing cock.

The doctor slid down on the couch to allow his balls to hang more freely. I obliged his motion by sliding back, still on my knees between his thighs.

"You will start by warming each of my testicles in your mouth," Sayidi instructed.

Without hesitation, I lowered myself to my hands and knees and approached the doctor's dark purple balls. I was struck by the strong aroma as my face closed proximity with Sayidi. It was not unpleasant, it was intoxicating.

I loved the smell of pussy, but this aroma was even more arousing to me, likely due to the forbidden nature of my presence so close to another man's cock and balls.

At this distance, I could now see the doctor's balls very clearly. I was surprised by how smooth his balls were given the large bush he was keeping at the base of his cock. I opened my mouth as I approached and sucked in one of Sayidi's balls.

"Careful," Sayidi cautioned as his right testicle popped into my mouth. "That's it boy, yes, now watch your teeth," Sayidi instructed.

As I crooked my neck to better position myself for the task at hand, I felt the doctor lower his cock, letting it rest across my face. Sayidi's cock felt heavy as it draped across my cheek and across my left ear, the sheathed head resting on my neck.

I let my mouth fill with saliva as I bathed Sayidi's testicle.

"Warming my balls like this will allow my semen to flow freely," Sayidi explained.

I found myself reaching to stroke my own cock as I washed the doctor's balls in my mouth.

"Do not touch yourself, boy," you need to find your arousal, naturally, in your service to Sayidi," the doctor scolded.

"Mm hmm," I replied while continuing my task between the doctor's thighs.

I could feel myself starting to drool around my lips a little as I continued warming Sayidi's right testicle with my mouth.

"Now, the other," Sayidi instructed.

I reached up and lifted the doctor's resting cock while turning my head to better service his left testicle. My lips sucked his left testicle into my mouth, and I placed his now erect cock back down allowing it to again rest on my face.

As I warmed his left testicle, I applied slight tension with my mouth to see how Sayidi would react. The doctor's cock jumped and then returned to rest on my face while I heard a soft moan from above.

The ball warming ritual continued for a long while. Every few minutes, Sayidi would instruct me to switch sides as he relished having his boy follow his detailed instructions without fail.

"You may stop," Sayidi said, sliding back in the couch and pushing me backward so that he could stand.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

"No, I am ready for you to fellate me. Bring the platter and the glasses back to the kitchen. I would like one more," Sayidi instructed.

The Doctor Goes In

As we crossed the living room, I noticed that it was now late dusk, and the living room had darkened significantly as daylight fell. I followed the blurred figure in front of me through the darkness and into the kitchen.

"Make us another," Sayidi requested, directly.

"I should not have another, Sayidi, I have had three already, it won't be safe for me to drive," I cautioned.

"You won't be driving, boy, pour two more," Sayidi responded. "Why are you looking at my face when you talk?" Sayidi scolded.

I lowered my gaze back to the doctor's erect cock, and replied, "I'm sorry, Sayidi."

I left the refrigerator door open to dimly light the room as I repeated my now familiar bar tending tasks and placed the fresh martinis on the platter. While I was working, Sayidi slid open one of the patio doors, and walked naked out onto the elevated deck.

I picked up the platter and followed him out into the open air.

Sayidi took a seat at a round table with four chairs. I followed him to the table and set the platter within Sayidi's reach. The evening air was still very warm and heavy with humidity. I would guess it was still over 90 degrees.

As Sayidi reached for his martini and took a sip, I took a seat at the table and did the same. I was feeling no pain at this point, but I was still concerned about being naked on his deck, near the other neighbors.

As I looked across the darkened yard, I could see the glow coming from the other homes in the neighborhood. The hum of central air conditioners almost overwhelmed the sounds of nature in the background.

"You may now fellate me, Wulid" Sayidi advised.

"Here?" I asked.

"Boy, you must display your willingness in public if you wish to cement your place here," Sayidi explained. "If you are not willing to do this here, now, in public, you are not truly willing to be my boy."

I took another sip of my martini and slid down out of my chair. Sayidi slid his chair out slightly from the table and spread his legs to make room.

Sayidi watched with satisfaction as my white, all-American body crawled naked toward him. The doctor pointed his erect cock toward me without saying a word. As I approached his large, purple cock became less blurry. Only a small portion of the head was unsheathed from the long foreskin that hid the rest from view.

Sayidi's cock was much longer than mine, I would guess that it was over 8" in length. It was also thicker than my own. I was relatively inexperienced with men's cock sizes, but the length and girth of the doctor's cock made it clear who was superior and who was the lessor man.

While still on all fours, with my naked ass facing the upscale neighborhood behind me, I opened, and allowed Sayidi to enter my very wet mouth.

"There you are," Sayidi said in a now low, silky voice.

"Do you enjoy finally having my penis in your mouth, boy?" Sayidi asked, clearly pointing out his position of power relative to mine.

"Mm hmm," I acknowledged, as I slowly rocked back and forth stroking the underside of the doctor's cock with my tongue.

"Your enjoyment will grow as I teach you new ways to meet my needs," Sayidi editorialized, as I continued to suck on his throbbing cock.

"Look at you, naked, white boy, on all fours, with my penis in your wet mouth," Sayidi continued.

"I wonder if the neighbors can see you fellating me out here in public," he pondered.

"Do you enjoy displaying yourself in public like a naked whore?" Sayidi said, as he inhaled, clearly taking pleasure in the mind-fuck he was unleashing on me.

"You are not a whore, however, since you do this without demanding payment. You are less than a whore. Even a whore has enough self-respect to demand a small fee for service," Sayidi sneered.

"You do this, willingly, without expecting any payment, don't you boy?" Sayidi asked.

"Mm hmm," I replied, as I continued to suck his throbbing member.

"Are you happy using your mouth to empty my heavy testicles?" Sayidi asked.

"Mm hmm," I answered, increasing my pace as his insults turned me on even more.

"Tonight, you will empty my balls using only your mouth, but over time, I will teach you to use your entire throat to stroke my large penis and provide maximum stimulation," Sayidi fantasized out loud.

"In fact, you will discover that your head is best used as a receptacle for Sayidi's penis," sayidi laughed in satisfaction.

"Soon you will have a taste of my rare semen and you will learn to crave it. In time, you will beg to feed from my penis to satisfy your foul urges."

I was now controlled by lust, sucking the doctor's hairy Arab cock in public, willingly. Sayidi's cock was now banging against my throat. My gag reflex was strong at first, but it was now starting to subside.

"Gag, boy," Sayidi's voice was raspy with excitement. "Let my penis into your throat."

Sayidi was now entering my throat and thrusting to gain more depth. I was now in full on cocksucker mode. The doctor had successfully turned me into his cock sucking bitch. I didn't care that I was on all fours in public, doing my best to make him cum in my mouth. I just wanted his cum, I wanted to taste it, I needed to taste it.

"Yes!" Sayidi whispered as he grabbed my head with both hands and pulled my nose towards his hairy pubic bone. His body shaking with small spasms.

My mouth was filling with his thick cum. Rope after rope shot over my tongue and into the back of my throat. I had no choice but to swallow as his balls continued to empty their contents without pause.

"Feed, boy," Sayidi growled as he continued fucking my face and spraying his thick load down my throat. I felt like my entire being had been reduced to the doctor's human flesh light. It was degrading but it was also exhilarating. As he continued his long and copious delivery, I felt my own balls tighten and I started spraying my own cum out onto the wooden decking.

"Hmm, Hmm, Hmm," I moaned in spasms while his cock still thrust against my throat.

"Oh, God," I mumbled as I opened my mouth around his cock to express the depth of my own orgasm.

As I started to recover from my own orgasm, I kept my mouth around Sayidi's cock, nursing him after his release.

"Clean me, boy," Sayidi demanded, as he reached for another sip from his martini.

I quietly continued to apply suction to the end of Sayidi's cock.

The doctor reached down and squeezed his limp cock from base to tip, expelling a small amount of cum. I leaned forward and sucked the head, cleaning the final drop of cum from his cock.

"Good boy," Sayidi said, with a tone of satisfaction. "I need to rest, follow me to my bedroom."

I placed the martini glasses back on the platter and followed Sayidi inside to the kitchen. With the platter back on the island, I followed Sayidi toward the back of the house. My mouth still full of the taste of the doctor's cum.

———————————————

Time to Rest

Following Sayidi out of the kitchen, we crossed the living room and foyer to another hallway that led to the back of the home. Unlike the hallway that led to the study, this hallway was longer and had doors on opposing sides.

The first door opened to a what looked like a guest bedroom. We entered the second larger bedroom, I assumed was the master suite.

"Prepare the bed for me," Sayidi ordered.

I pulled the decorative pillows off the bed and placed them on a nearby lounge chair. Then I turned down the covers for Sayidi and stepped out of the way. As Sayidi climbed into bed, I looked at his alarm clock. It was only 10pm. After all the booze, I needed to rest.

"You may sleep at the end of the bed," Sayidi said, pointing to the end of the California King.

I climbed onto the bed and stretched out across the bed, almost like a pet would sleep with his master. My blood alcohol level allowed me to fall asleep quickly.

4 a.m. Wakeup Call

A tap on the head startled me awake. Looking around, disoriented by my unfamiliar surroundings, I remembered that I was still naked and still in the service of Sayidi.

"Wake up, boy, I need your head to fornicate," Sayidi said, as he stood over me looking down over his erect cock.

"What time is it?" I asked, still somewhat groggy.

"It is 4 a.m. I will use you one more time and then you may leave." Sayidi said, in a matter-of-fact style.

The 6-hour nap gave me time to sober up, allowing me to think clearly without the influence of alcohol. A few seconds passed as my mind caught up with the reality of the evening's events.

"You made a mistake, but it's not too late," the voice in my mind reasoned.

"Sucking one cock while drunk is no big deal, but if you allow yourself to do it again, it's a pattern," the voice cautioned.

"Get up boy," Sayidi said more sternly.

I sat up and looked at the blurry, dark-skinned man standing in front of me. As I rose to my feet, I remembered that I was not to allow my gaze to rise above the doctor's waist.

"Follow me," Sayidi directed as he started walking toward the bedroom door.

I followed Sayidi back across the living room and into the kitchen. Once again, he opened the patio door and walked out into the darkness. Without pause, I followed him. The air was completely still and thick with humidity. Heat lightening flashed in the distance and a slight rumble of thunder could still be heard over the drone of central air conditioners.

Sayidi walked across the deck and descended the stairs into the back yard. He stopped near the center of his back yard and turned to ensure that I had followed him out into the open. I scanned the neighbors' homes for signs of life. The homes were all dark as their occupants slept through this ungodly hour.

With only a slight glow from the moonlight, Sayidi was just an outline in front of me. The darkness, combined with my nearsightedness created a surreal scene.

“Sayidi, we are out in the open here. Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, trying not to show disrespect.

"Get on all fours," Sayidi said in a commanding voice.

The Turning Point

"If you do this, you can no longer call it a mistake. You'll be doing it willingly, allowing it to happen," the voice in my head lectured.

"Do you really want to become his boy? Does being his sex slave turn you on?

He's not stronger than you, he's not overpowering you, there's no reason you can't just walk away and drive home," the voice continued.

"Are you really a cock sucker? Is that who you want to be?" the voice was shouting now.

"Boy," Sayidi interrupted.

Back in the moment, I slowly dropped to my knees, letting myself to fall forward onto my hands so that I was in the position Sayidi required. I was willingly submitting to the doctor. He had pushed me into a new mental state where submission was a powerful aphrodisiac.

The idea that a neighbor could turn on a light and discover me sucking cock on all fours caused my body to vibrate with arousal. There would be no time to make it to nearby cover. We were at least 15 feet from the stairs, this was about as public as it could get. Our only cover was the early hour. The brazenness of our actions was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. I felt like a total slut.

Sayidi kneeled in front of me while he stroked his cock. I opened my mouth, and leaned forward, wrapping my lips around the head of Sayidi's cock.

"Stop," Sayidi interrupted.

I pulled back, letting the doctor's cock withdraw from my mouth.

"Ask for it," Sayidi said, quietly. I could almost hear the smile on his face.

"May I drain your balls for you, Sayidi?" I asked, in a submissive voice I didn't recognize.

"You will, but this time, I am going to use your head for my pleasure," Sayidi responded. "Do you want me to use your head for fornication, boy?"

"Yes Sayidi," I said quietly, looking directly at the doctors throbbing cock.

"Tell me what you want, boy, say the words," Sayidi coerced.

"I want you to face fuck me, Sayidi," my voice cracked as I responded.

"Right here, in the back yard? Where you could easily be seen?" Sayidi asked, emphasizing the level of exhibitionism involved.

"Only a mindless dog, would allow his head to be fornicated in public," Sayidi sneered. "Are you a mindless dog, boy?"

"Yes, Sayidi," I whispered, still staring at his cock and low hanging balls.

"Then open your mouth so I can give you what you ask," Sayidi demanded.

I felt Sayidi's hands take a firm grip of my skull. I watched as his cock penetrated my mouth. I was staring directly at his large bush as he started thrusting.

"Hold it open, doggy!" Sayidi raised his voice.

I opened my mouth wider.

"That's it, let me in. I will help you take it all." Sayidi growled.

Sayidi's cock was hammering at the back of my throat causing me to gag.

"You will stop gagging when I give you more," Sayidi assured me.

"Glawk, glawk, glawk," I responded, as he forced his cock into my airway.

I'd seen porn stars make these sounds and I always thought it was theatrics. Now here I was, naked on all fours, at 4 a.m., in public, with the sound now coming from my own throat.

"Good dog," Sayidi sneered. "Take more, I'll give my full length to you, and you will take it."

"I am going to teach you to become so much more useful than you are today. You are learning your true purpose. Is your little boy penis getting hard as I fornicate your head?" Sayidi continued.

"Glawk, glawk," were the only sounds from my mouth.

Sayidi was getting very rough. He pulled out and let me get a few breaths.

As I caught my breath, I heard the words, "I want it all," in what sounded like my own voice.

I choked and spat in the grass while Sayidi allowed me to regroup, resuming my position, opening my mouth to continue letting him fuck. Sayidi grabbed the back of my head and pulled me forward until my throat was completely impaled on his 8" cock. My nose was buried in his thick pubes and Sayidi was still pulling and thrusting.

The Doctor Is In

"There it is, good boy," Sayidi praised me and petted me like i was his dog

With his cock buried balls deep in my throat, he started making short strokes. I was able to hold my breath as he continued, but after 40 seconds or so, I started to panic.

I reached up to push back so I could get some air. Sayidi pulled out quickly.

"Breath!" Sayidi ordered.

I took a deep breath, then Sayidi shoved his cock back in all the way to the base. Sayidi resumed his short strokes, literally skull fucking me in his back yard in front of all his neighbors.

The gagging noises had stopped.Sayidi started taking long, full strokes into my open throat. I tried to time my breathing so I could capture a new breath each time he pulled back before he started each new stroke.

Small drops of sweat fell off my face and body due to the heat and humidity along with my physical and mental exertion. With each full stroke, my nose brushed his course pubic hairs, and I felt his large balls swing under my chin and slap me under my jaw. The wet slapping noises were obscene.

Pre-cum leaked from my bouncing cock sprinkling my thighs and stomach, further confirming my arousal. Giving up all control to a stranger had my body on fire with lust. Sayidi's thick, 8-inch cock continued taking long rapid thrusts deep into my neck. There was no denying that I was getting fucked, and I liked it.

"Feed, dog!" Sayidi growled as he started to cum.

I continued to hold my breath as Sayidi crushed my nose against his pubic bone. He treated my head like a sex toy. This was beyond sexual; this was about domination and perhaps even humiliation. No self-respecting person would allow themselves to be treated like this, especially in public. Why did I like it?

Sayidi finished in my mouth and asked me to clean him just as he did the first time. As his cock softened in my mouth, I continued to provide suction and remained on all fours.

"You may leave," Sayidi informed me in a quiet voice as he rose to a standing position.

I got up on my knees, wiped my mouth, pushed the hair out of my eyes, and rose to my feet. My body was covered in sweat from the heat of the evening and the treatment I had just endured. I followed Sayidi up the stairs and back into the kitchen.

Sayidi pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator while I washed my hands and then walked to the island to reinsert my contact lenses.

"Please wait until I leave, boy," Sayidi quietly requested, "Remember, you must always be truly naked."

"I will need you tomorrow evening at the same time, boy. You did an acceptable job today," Sayidi commented, as he walked out of the kitchen.

Slowly, I reinserted my contact lenses and walked through the laundry room and into the garage. As I entered the garage, still naked, the light came on and the garage door started to rise.

"That asshole has an opener in the house!" I thought, as I hurried to pull my clothes out of the bin to keep from exposing myself to the street.

By the time I pulled my shorts up, the door was completely open. I pulled on my shirt, stepped into my sandals, and walked to my car. I turned the ignition and backed into the street.

During the 20-minute drive across Los Angeles, back to my apartment, my mind replayed the events of the evening. My cock started tenting my shorts. Soon, I scooted in my seat so I could lower my shorts and release my throbbing cock. I started masturbating while driving home, thinking about what I had allowed myself to do.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" my mind's voice shouted. "Are you really playing with yourself while driving home from being this Arab's bitch?

"There's no way you're ever going back there!" the voice continued.

Pre-cum was forming on the tip of my cock, my balls were tightening, my orgasm was very close.

"Stop jacking off! Have some self-respect!" the voice scolded.

My hand pulled away from my cock as I approached the highway exit to my apartment building. The clock on the dashboard read 5:05 as I pulled into my apartment garage. Still sporting a chubby, I exited my vehicle and jumped into the elevator that took me to my floor.

As the elevator doors opened, I looked out to ensure no early risers where loitering on my floor. Once inside my apartment, I set my alarm for 7:30 a.m. and went straight to bed. It was going to be an interesting day at work.

I realized that in less than 12 hours, Sayidi expected me back to perform my duties as his boy.

I knew i would be there.

[freegardenergladiator]

Bon garçon...

[kinkyrubbernl]

[pozconvertedparis]

Hey Brothers, members of the AIDS club, let's gather there, let's enjoy the toxic thrill of POZ sex, let's enjoy HIV sharing all the way.

[freegardenergladiator]

Où...