inferior nothing By: Rob Y haverimseat4you@gmail.com http://www.sgttate.com
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I call out from work. Initially it is for just the day, but that one day turns to two, then three, and finally four. I remain at home recovering--not so much physically, although there was some of that, but recovering emotionally. I have never been beaten like that before. I am conflicted between being proud that I did it and repulsed that I endured it.
I watch TV, mostly the morning talk shows aimed at women. In all these days, he does not contact me, leading me to believe that he is done with me. At the beginning of my fourth call out day, I receive a text from him: "Douche out. Put on shorts, shirt, shoes, and nothing else. Be ready in one hour. I will be waiting for you in your parking lot."
I douche and shave my body. Getting dressed to his specifications is easy. I am done with five minutes to spare. Checking my phone, there are no other texts let alone further instructions. I grab my keys and leave. Walking into the lot, I look for him, but he's nowhere. All I see are parked cars, and none are the Dodge Charger like he drove the last time.
On the far side of the garbage bin there is a parked car, but I can only see two feet of its rear. The rest is hidden behind the garbage. The trunk is open. After a minute, I notice that no one is mulling about around the car. I approach it.
It is not the Charger, but a silver Toyota Camry. I look inside the trunk. It is empty except for my hood and a water bottle lying in the middle of the trunk. Based on the color, the water bottle contains piss.
This is it.
He has not signaled me at all, and I do not see him. I climb in, as it is obvious that he wants me there. I put on the hood and wait. After a minute nothing happens.
I hear another tenant driving their car by me. I hope they don't see; I would be totally embarrassed. After they leave the area, I decide to close the trunk door so that the possibility of discovery is gone. I reach up to grab the hood and pull down. It is difficult to close it from the inside.
As soon as the trunk lid closes, the engine starts up. Quickly we move into reverse, and then fly into drive. He speeds out of there, tossing me around in the trunk. At the first time we stop, I feel the car wiggle. The portal between the rear seat and the trunk--the one used for transporting skis--opens into the back seat, but not fully, about an inch or two. Light pours in. My hood eliminates a fair amount.
"Your clothing other than the hood is to be removed and then placed through this tiny door. Once that is done, pull the door until it locks. If you get thirsty, my piss is there. All of which will need to be consumed before I let you out." The car shakes again--probably him twisting back into the driver's seat, and we speed off.
My shirt is the first to be removed, then my shoes, and finally my shorts. Quickly putting them through the little door, I pull it until I hear the clicking of the lock. I am now naked and locked in a trunk.
He turns on music, classic 70's rock and roll, but I have no idea who is singing or what song. Grabbing the water bottle, I start drinking. His piss is pungent today.
I have no idea how long I will be in here, so I drink the bottle's content as quickly as I can. I am quite full once I am done. My stomach is sour. His driving causes my sour to turn into a full bit of nausea.
The ride takes about twenty or thirty minutes or so. I have no idea where we are. The last few minutes of driving is rather conservative, as nothing happens to throw me around the trunk.
We stop, and the engine is cut. He gets out, and I hear a motor of sorts paired with metal clanking outside the car. I hear his voice talking with another man. A bit of laughter precedes the trunk opening up. Light pours in. Even under my hood, I squint. I finally see his form through my hood as well as a second man's form.
"This is the inferior nothing I was talking about."
"I see that." The other guy does not seem phased by my predicament. "Oh my god, that is one of the smallest peckers I have ever seen."
"You like that?"
"Fuck yeah! There is no reason for a pussy like this to have any size to its dick. Hell one inch is too long."
My Lord laughs with him. "You got that right."
He reaches in and grabs my right ankle and uses it to pull me out of the trunk. I cannot make out much around me, but I can tell I am in a two car home garage with the door closed.
"Follow us. Leave the trunk open."
The two men walk off. It is difficult to follow as I have no idea to the layout of the garage. I can see through the hood a bit; I can make out that the second car is an off road Jeep as I can make out the roll bar.
I walk to the door to the house. I step up for the first step, but it is the second step that catches my foot. I stumble to the tiled floor.
"For fuck's sake. You really are a worthless inferior nothing."
The other man speaks, "Maybe you should take off his hood. He doesn't know the layout yet."
My Lord comes over and yanks of my hood. My face is only a few inches from the floor and a few inches from his Oxfords. Instinctively, I start licking.
"Well you got him trained."
My Lord laughs with the other guy. Turning to walk away he give me a light kick in the head.
"I deserve that, as I am an inferior nothing."
"That you are. Now get the fuck over here."
I scurry over to him and the other guy. The other guy is fucking hot too. About six foot, he's built like an off season linebacker, broad shoulders with a thick torso. He wears a baseball cap backwards and chews a plastic straw--very much like a fraternity guy that hasn't moved on after graduating. His shirt is tight, which emphasizes his massiveness. The shirt obscures any bulge in his shorts. He has massive thighs with thick and hairy calves.
"Well aren't you a pretty fuck?"
I don't answer. My Lord smacks me across the face.
"I deserve that as I am an inferior nothing."
My Lord responds to the guy, "And there's your answer."
The thick new guy grabs my cock and balls. "This is so tiny. One of the smallest I have ever seen. Is he a grower?"
"Don't know, and don't care at this point."
"Well damn, you do know my type!" He looks at My Lord who is looking around. "Do you need me to show you around, or can I play with your toy?"
"That's why I brought it along. No fucking though."
"What?"
"Make a deal on the advertised rent, and you can fuck it." I'm a bartering tool.
"Five percent off."
"Ten."
"Deal, and I get to abuse it how I want?"
"Nothing permanent." He slaps me hard across the face. Before I can give him my response, he speaks, "You were brought here to entertain him. You do what he says, as if I was ordering you to. And no screaming either. I don't want you to wake the neighbors."
The guy pushes me down on my knees as he fumbles with his zipper. "That's no problem. These apartments are sound proofed. Besides the apartment above is empty for now, and the other two on the other side have tenants who are cool. I'm only renting to hard core S&M tenants."
"Well I don't want him screaming as I am checking this place out."
The guy's dick is pulled out, and it is one of the thickest cocks I have ever seen. Not long, about six or seven inches, but easily as thick as a beer can. It's head--slightly hidden with a foreskin--is covered with pre-cum.
"Open up bitch."
I open up my mouth and it is jammed in. He doesn't care how it fits in there, just that all of it is in my mouth. He holds the back of my head from pulling off. After about a minute, he shifts his attention to skull fucking me. He has no interest in me controlling the blowjob. I am more of a hole for him to fuck. He doesn't care if I am slobbering down my chin. He doesn't care that I am gagging and not able to control my breathing.
He just fucks, but now he's not holding my head. I know I am not to move. Glancing up, I see that his shirt is pulled up over his pecs. Both nips are being lightly stroked by his thumbs. His head tilts back with his eyes closed.
"I see you are enjoying its mouth."
Without opening his eyes, he responds, "Its gagging is giving me a sloppy throat. Feels good to feel him struggle."
My balls are kicked from behind startling me. "Well that should encourage some more struggling out of it. The kitchen is nice."
Pain shoots up my body, causing me to lose my focus on the blowjob. I gasp. A hand returns to the back of my head prohibiting me from adjusting to get comfortable. "Have you checked out the bedrooms?"
"Not yet. Have you checked out its ass eating? It'll clean out your shithole no matter what condition it is in."
"Oh really?" His dick withdraws from my mouth. Turning around, he presents his thick meaty ass. There's a fine dusting of hair covering each cheek. Bending over the nearby couch, his crack and asshole are revealed.
I dive in. It is very sweaty and hairier than what I expected. My tongue finds his musky hole.
"Fuck yeah bitch!" He wiggles on my face a little, allowing me to breathe. But due to the positioning it becomes rather difficult to find the air from our positioning. Placing my hands on each cheek and pulling them apart allows for more air to reach me.
After only a few moments he stands and turns around. My throat slime still covers his obscenely thick dick. I fully expect him to shove it in my mouth. That doesn't happen. Instead he lifts me up by my arm and forcibly spins me around. Bending me over his dick is at my cunt.
With his left hand on my shoulder and the right hand guiding his cock, he starts to shove it in me. I scream out in pain.
My Lord shouts at me from another room, "Keep it down in there."
A slap lands on the side of my face.
"I deserve that as I am an inferior nothing." It's now instinctual, even if it is to another man.
He grabs my wrists in his hands. Pulling them back makes me impale more on his cock. Pulling them up forces me to remain bent over, with my torso cantilevered forward.
He pulls my arms to provide the thrust needed to impale me further onto his dick while keeping a rhythm. With My Lord stretching my hole over the past few weeks, my abused cunt can adapt to his girth.
After a couple minutes, my arms get sore, but I cannot move to relieve them.
My Lord walks into the room. Because of my position, I can only see his waist down. He unzips and hauls out his mammoth cock. "Nice place you have here. It seems to fit what I am looking for. There might be some modifications that we can discuss later."
His semi-erect cock gets shoved into my mouth. "Good. You going to take it?"
The two men fuck in rhythm, but they both thrust in together and withdraw together. I am smashed between them. "I am interested."
"Can I get access to this cunt?"
"We can work that out. Let's dump our loads then we can discuss that after I put it back in the trunk."
It takes only a few minutes for My Lord to erupt in my mouth. The other guy lasts about ten seconds later. My Lord pulls out of my mouth as the guy pulls me back onto his thick dick. I swallow My Lord's cum.
The guy slams hard into me. My arms feel like they are going to be tore off. He is dumping his load into me--holding me in place for a good ten or fifteen seconds afterwards.
To pull out of me, he just releases my wrists. I fall forward and barely have enough time to brace my fall. My sore arms are the only protection my head has from hitting the tiled floor.
Once again, my balls are kicked by My Lord. Surprisingly it's not a hard kick, just one to get my attention.
"Get that worthless cunt in the trunk. Don't forget to close it behind you."
I try to steady myself, but from a lying position, it is difficult to get up with very sore arms.
"I said get in the fucking trunk." My Lord kicks me in the balls again, but this time is with a serious amount of force. The pain shoots up from my balls. I scream out. The momentum from his kick along with my strong desire to get away from the point of impact cause me to lunge forward. As I scurry towards the garage, I can hear him say "These fucking nothings, I tell ya."
Picking up the hood, I hurry to the Camry. As I approach the trunk, I start to put the hood on, but realize that I should put it on after getting in. Stumbling into the trunk, I take my place like before. I have the hood in my hand, and I reach up to pull down the trunk door. The hood goes on easily.
Being back in the closed trunk, I wait. I just lay there not moving, thirsty to drink something. The piss bottle has an ounce or two left. That helps my dry mouth.
I wait, but there is no sense of time. It could have been five minutes or twenty five minutes. I don't know.
Hearing the car door open followed by a shaking of the suspension due to his massive weight sliding into the driver's seat, I know we are about to get going. The engine starts up, and then we move.
The drive back is not as wild as before, but still, I get occasionally tossed from side to side. He comes to a complete stop. The engine is cut off. He gets out. Then, nothing happens. The trunk doesn't open. He doesn't signal me. Has he forgotten me? Do I just lay here? This doesn't seem right.
Before the panic sets in the trunk lid pops open, but only slightly. Though the slight gap I can see my apartment building. Strangely, My Lord is nowhere in sight. He must have used his remote key to open the trunk.
What do I do? Should I stay here? Should I go into my apartment? Since he remote opened the trunk, he must want me out.
But I'm naked. Where are my clothes? The last I remember is that I put them in the back seat through the hole. I hope they are still there.
I remove my hood and briefly let my eyes adjust to the light. No one in my tiny apartment complex is moving about.
Jumping out, I quickly look in the back seat. My clothes are still there. A sense of relief hits me as I reach in and grab my shorts. As I am zipping up, a car pulls in. I smile to being lucky on not being discovered.
After my shirt and shoes, I race to my apartment. The door is unlocked. I walk in.
My Lord's back is to me. He is at my dining room table using my laptop. His slacks and underwear are around his ankles, as he sits on the rimseat.
He stands up but remains in place. "You know where you belong."
I race over, undoing my clothes. When I reach the seat I am naked. As I lean back to climb under, I pull the hood in place. I lift up the seat scooting myself under. My hands go to my temple.
He reaches behind him to lower the seat onto my face. Like before, I am locked in place--the bar below my chin prohibits my head from coming out, and my wrists secure my hands at my temples so that I cannot move my head or wrists. This is really a phenomenal design.
I can see him standing--bare assed but still wearing his shirt, tie, and jacket, but no pants or underwer. His meaty ass starts to descend. About one foot away from landing on my face he stops. I can smell the musk from his crack.
"What is the password to your on-line banking?"
Why is he asking that? "My Lord?"
"NOW!"
"Um . . . 'NewYork213,' My Lord."
He sits. My tongue goes right to his hole. "See how easy that was. Nothing to worry about. In fact, this is not what you should be worried about." What does that mean? I don't have time to ponder as he follows up with, "This is what your focus needs to be on." With that his asshole opens up and a piece of shit lands in my mouth. It is bitter. It is hard. It is dry. Most of all, it is nasty.
I try to move out of the way, but my head is prohibited by my hands at my temples. I can't move. That turd fills my mouth.
Calmly he begins, "This is what is going to happen. You are going to eat that piece of shit. You cannot pull out. You will also clean me up afterwards. There is not to be one skid mark in my crack or on my shit hole. You will not stop licking until that is the case. Under no circumstance will I let you get up before that time--this includes vomiting. Now get to it. I will be here ignoring your plight by examining the fuck up that is your financial history."
What now? I can't move except to eat. There is nothing I can do. I can't overpower him. I am trapped. I can't think of trying to figure this out; I have a turd as thick as a cock in my mouth and about six inches long, and it's nasty.
Reluctantly I start to bite. My teeth cut into one chunk. It squishes through the gaps between my teeth. It has the consistency of peanut butter--crunchy peanut butter to be more exact. Yes there are some crunchy somethings that I have no idea what it was before he digested it. Instead of chewing, I try to swallow that bitten off chunk whole. It doesn't go down easy. I feel the need to throw it back up, but I know that will not end well. Calming myself, I realize that I need to just finish this.
I take another chunk and try to swallow it as fast as possible. Thinking of anything and everything else helps me not think of the vile thing I am doing. A strange thing happens with the third bite; I hit a soft part, and it doesn't taste the same. It has an oily rancid taste. I just swallow and don't think about it.
I don't know how many chunks I ate, but the turd is gone--in my stomach, but still gone.
There is shit in his crack. I start to lick like I would an ice cream. This is actually more disgusting than eating the chunks. It covers my tongue. I have to make lots of spit to help get the taste and feel off my tongue. The problem is that there are several crunchy parts that are affixed to his crack hairs.
I repetitiously run my tongue over those hairs. The taste is there. So is the sliminess.
I try to move the crunchy pieces to the outside of his crack. Only then can I get them on my tongue. This is the tedious part. Luckily as I do this, the skid marks get licked off too.
I lick fast to get the job done. Once his crack is clean, I shove my tongue into his shit hole. It has a little more shit with those crunchy flecks. He pushes out a fart in my face, which smells like his shit tastes. But, by pushing out, I can clean his asshole a bit from the inside.
After about fifteen or twenty minutes working to lick his shithole, I am confident that he is clean. "My Lord."
He get up turns around so I can see his face and dick. His cock hangs quite low.
"You must be thirsty." Before I can say anything, he starts to piss on my face. I open my mouth welcome the change of taste that coats all sides of my mouth. I try to swallow as fast I can so I can get more. Closing my mouth to swallow, his piss splashes all over the place.
It is very refreshing to be free of the taste of his shit.
He reaches around to feel up his crack. Then he smells his fingers.
"You did a barely adequate job." He pulls up his pants to assemble himself. "Now listen up. I will be back in two days at ten in the morning exactly." He is dressed except for his cock purposefully hanging out. "If I find that your bank's password has been changed or there has been something dramatic with your accounts, I will not come back, ever. You will beat off only once, within twenty minutes before I get here. You will cum thinking of my shit in your mouth. The next time I see you, I will be demanding you take your inferior service to the next level. And that means the next level downward. If you do not want that, just change your password, and you will never see me again. Not changing your password means you want and need to be more under my control. Not changing your password gives me consent. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"Yes, My Lord."
After tucking his cock away, he abruptly leaves my apartment.
Comments or Questions:
haverimseat4you@gmail.com I have written a novel just as twisted: http://www.sgttate.com