This is my first story on Nifty, although I have written others in the past. The usual disclaimers apply, age, objections to man on man sex etc. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it and feedback is always welcome!
Last time...
I retrieved the box with the CB6000S from my bag, and holding it between my teeth, crawled over and dropped it gently at my Master's feet. He picked it up and opened it.
`I'm assuming you bought this for me to put on your pathetic willy? Why? Can I not trust you?'
`Of course you can trust me Sir, but i want – i NEED the humiliation'
`You want humiliation? I'll give you that all right! Where's that lead of yours? David, we're going for a walk!'
Sir clipped a heavy black leather lead to my collar, dragged me down the stairs, out onto the street and flagged down a black cab.
`Anderson & Crozier driver, it's on Hanover Street.'
My blood ran cold. That was my office.
Chapter 2.
i knew there was no point in protesting. Sir would please himself anyway and besides, if i asked Him to go easy on me it would be 100 times worse. i would just have to 'suck it and see' to coin a phrase... The taxi driver wasn't happy either, complaining about the smell - which was coming from me and was mostly, by now, stale urine. He brightened up however when Sir threw a couple of fifties at him and told him to keep the change. Needless to say, i was not deemed worthy of a seat and safety belt, so i spent the short journey on the cab floor. We arrived at Anderson & Crozier fairly quickly and despite feeling sick with nerves, not knowing what was going to happen, i was hard as a rock. The office was staffed wholly by men, although i was not yet sure if that was to be a curse or a blessing! i was dragged up the office steps by my lead and as Sir opened the door, i could hear the team singing Happy Birthday to the cute twink that was Ben, the receptionist. Sir was delighted, He had a full house for what was to be only the start of my humiliation! Sir waited for the singing to stop, then He spoke;
'Gentlemen, I am sorry to break in on your little party, however I have an announcement to make with regard to your colleague on the floor here. As you can see, it is collared and on a leash. it is nothing more than a piss and cum slut. Indeed, you can probably smell my stale piss on it and, although I wouldn't recommend it, you will be able to smell David's piss on its breath. I have been in discussion with the managing partners and it's on holiday this week, so as of Monday morning, the tub of lard will be your general office gopher. Use it as you please, as a cum dump, piss pot, errand boy, whatever takes your fancy. It's ass however, is mine and mine alone. That will be plugged and locked - and the cage it bought for me to put on it's peepee will also be locked on. I would also ask that you reward it when it does what you ask, maybe a donut, or a slice of cold pizza. it needs to stay fat and worthless. Thank you gents, enjoy the rest of your day!'
For fucks sake! What have i got myself into? Sir decided that we should walk back to His flat, so He produced a pair of knee pads and a pair of mitts for me to wear. Sir and David walked me through the streets and decided that they both wanted a beer. They took me into my favourite gay bar and the barman on duty was Steven, a particularly rancid and vicious little queen.
'Evening gentlemen! My, my, my, what have we here?! Looks like Patrick's got himself into a spot of bother - although he seems to be enjoying it!'
He was right, of course. Although my rubber shorts were very tight, my cock was as hard as steel and was perfectly obvious to anyone who cared to look - and Steven was ALWAYS looking for cock! Sir spoke first,
'David, what would you like to drink? I'll have a pint of Stella please Steven, or as I prefer to call it, Slave Beater! fatty will have 2 pints of guinness, but can you put it in this dog bowl please?'
Steven laughed and agreed to Sir's request. David ordered a pint of Harviestoun's Bitter and Twisted which is a real ale from Clackmannanshire in Scotland - which i thought was quite appropriate, although i didn't dare say so! Once my guinness had settled, the bowl was set on the floor for me to drink from. i was also told that i had to drink my two pints by the time Sir had finished His one, or i'd be punished. Added to that, i had to lap at my beer while if He chose to, Sir could neck His and i'd be punished anyway! i lapped away, and at one point i tried sucking it up, but that made too much noise which earned me the toe of Sir's boot on my arse! i managed to finish my guinness by the time Sir and David had finished their beers, but then David ordered another round, and i got another 2 pints in my bowl... i started lapping away at it again, but Sir must have been irritated by my slurping or something - or maybe he was just in the mood for punishing me - whatever, he sank his pint in one and ordered another.
'Steven, another pint of Slave Beater please! it's going to get a good 30 strokes with the tawse when I get it home! David, you want to watch?'
David and Steven both grinned, David accepting the invitation and Steven pouring Sir's pint of Stella. This time, i finished before my superiors, so i sat back and waited. i needed to pee, but i reckoned if i could hold on until we got outside, i could do it in the gutter rather than having to pee in my bowl in front of everyone and then drink it. David finished next, then Sir and we left the pub. When we got outside, the air had cooled dramatically, which increased my need to pee. i let go, expecting it to just run out the leg of my rubber shorts, but they were tight enough to retain it... Damn! If i didn't get rid before we got home, it would splash all over the floor when we got in and i'd be in MAJOR trouble! Maybe my crawling movement would cause it to leak out gradually... As we progressed, i could feel tiny amounts of piss running down my legs, probably not enough to lose it all in time, but it would all help! We got home and as i crawled up the stairs, Sir booted my fat backside, 'Faster, butt boi, faster!' Unfortunately, that caused the remaining piss to burst out all over the stairs...
'You fly cunt! Why did you not ask permission to piss? Well, you just earned another 10 of the best, after you scrub the whole stair!'
'Yes Sir, of course Sir!
'From now on whore, you call me Master, and you call David Sir - capiche?!'
'Yes Master! Thank You Master.'
That worried me slightly. Was David, sorry, Sir going to have an increased role in my life? Work was going to be hell from Monday anyway, but if he was going to be my Master's representative in the office who knew what i'd be expected to do!!! We got to the top of the stairs and Master shouted at me,
'Wait there faggot, I don't want your slave piss dripping on my floors. I'll get you a bucket of hot water and bleach. David, would you be good enough to carry it down to the bottom and supervise the sneaky wee slut for me please? Right pissy knickers, you've got five minutes to crawl down those stairs and scrub each and every one properly and to David's satisfaction, back up to this door again. For every 15 seconds you go over time, you earn another stroke of the tawse and if you go over by a full minute, I'll add a bonus of 2. So, to be clear - every minute you go over the five allotted for the task, you get six extra strokes. you're at 40 already, so you better get a move on! GO!'
And with that, Master started his stopwatch and i scrambled down the 8 flights of steps to the ground floor where Sir was waiting for me. He stood on the third step as i scrubbed the first, and as i moved up so did he. Assuming i had to scrub each landing too, i did so, but thankfully they were only about six feet square. Eventually, we got back to our landing, where Master was waiting.
'Not bad bumboi, 7 minutes and 16 seconds. So, in addition to the 40 lashes you already earned, 2 minutes over equals an extra 12, and because you were one second into the next quarter minute, that's another 2, so in total you've earned yourself 54 strokes with the tawse - or I might use my new paddle. You haven't seen this one yet, one side is plain and the other side has 30 steel studs in it! Guess which side you'll be feeling!'
'With Respect Sir, i mean Master! i expect i'll be getting the studs, given how bad i've been today.'
'Well you fat pig, that little Master/Sir infraction has just earned you another six, taking your total up to sixty - I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if you lose count! Let's get started! Stocks. NOW!'
i moved across to the stocks that Master had had built specially for me. They're made of iron and the space for my hands is low, so that my ass sticks up in the air. Master did use His paddle, studded side and all, but i didn't lose count thankfully! Mind you, although i was a snotty, snivelling mess by the time They had finished with me, i was still hard as iron. Sir noticed this.
'Look Andrew, the fat horny fuck's still got a boner!'
'That doesn't surprise me David, it's a glutton for punishment, as well as for food! I was going to leave this until tomorrow, but we might as well remove the pussy hair while it's restrained ass up'
Master produced a large industrial sized bottle of hair remover. 'Right bitch, this is supposed to only be on for three minutes, but I'm going to leave it for fifteen minutes which means your hair will never ever grow back. Once your pussy is done, we'll do the rest of you too. Only Real Men have body hair, pussy-bois like you don't.'
Master and Sir proceeded to cover me in the vile smelling potion from my neck to my toes. They even did the part of my face where my beard grew! Once they had done that, Master got out a pair of barber's clippers and took my head down to a 0.5 buzz cut. While they were waiting for the fifteen minutes to pass, Master got out a bottle of malt whisky and poured the two of them a sizeable dram. 'David, here's to slavery!' 'Absolutely Andrew! Cheers!'