The Apartment Manager- Part 3
Yes, I know. I made you wait even longer this time. Sorry, I like the serial stories on this site and I'd be annoyed if I had to wait months between installments, too.
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Most of these events are true, but I've changed names to protect the guilty. Trust me; nobody you'll read about was innocent. I may not have specifically consented to everything that went on, but I had willingly acknowledged that I was property and my consent was irrelevant and unnecessary.
Thank you for reading about my experiences and I hope you enjoy. Feel free to send questions, critiques, and comments to: thestuffwedonottalkabout@yahoo.com. Now Part 3 begins...
One Friday, my phone rang just as I got home from work. I didn't have the number saved, but I picked up anyway since it was local.
"Hey, bitch", a familiar nasally voice quietly said after I answered. "Do you know who this is?" I did. My heart leaped and my dick stirred.
"Yes, Master." It just popped out. I'd intended to say his name, but that's not what came out.
My old apartment manager was calling after all.
"Good boy; you already know your place. This is the weekend you told me you're off, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"If you have plans, cancel them," he advised. "The day after, too," he added.
I was supposed to go spend the night a guy who'd cancelled on me at the last minute twice that month, but I said "I was gonna go see a guy, but he'll forgive me if I bail. We were gonna fuck around and maybe do a movie."
"Well, that's sort what I got planned for ya. Just not with him. How fast can you get to my apartment?"
"I just need to shower and change..."
"No, just grab a that jock from last time and a toothbrush. And probably some of that stuff you smoke. Get over here ASAP."
I told my roommate I'd be gone tonight, grabbed the pot that he suggested, plus a small pipe, a phone charger, underwear, and my digital camera. My Harley 883 was on the highway less then ten minutes after I hung up; I was glad I'd filled up on the way home. I took back roads to avoid the traffic in the towns, driving faster than usual and was impressed it had taken 22 minutes to make the 26 mile trip. I even remembered the way without having to pull over and check the directions this time. I parked my bike, set the fork lock, and headed up the stairs to his unit. The door was ajar, so I just went in. It was just after dark and only the dim light above the stove hood was on inside the apartment. It dimly illuminated the love seat where he'd collared me last time.
"I like that my boy came when I called without delay," came from the darkness to my left. "Close the door. Don't lock it."
I complied and looked toward the sound of his voice. My eyes had started to adjust and I could see him sitting in a Lazy Boy that wasn't there last month. He was naked and his pale blue eyes were perfectly illuminated by the light of a street light coming through a gap in his mini blinds. He stared at me with obvious lust and started stroking his cock.
"Drop your stuff by the loveseat and strip, boy."
I was already shucking my jacket as I dropped my backpack and helmet on the floor. I pulled off my shirt and was pulling down my jeans and kicking off my boots the same time. As I bent over to pull my left boot and pant let free, he said "Stop!"
I froze. The flash of a camera illuminated the wall in front me and then twice more.
"Okay. Finish." The camera snapped several more times as I hurriedly finished undressing. The camera was a little unnerving and I could feel that I was blushing.
"I was ready to spank your ass if you were late or wasted any time getting naked, but it looks like you are an obedient boy. Too bad, but your ass is gonna get plenty of abuse anyway."
Once I was naked, he told me to turn around. He snapped photos the whole time.
"Damn, boy! You're fucking beautiful. I didn't think you'd come back for an ugly fucker like me."
I looked down, embarrassed. " I need to lose weight or work out." He'd gotten his blond hair trimmed to a crew cut. It looked good on him. "You're not ugly. You're way too hot for me, sir."
"Fuck that! You're just right. My furry ginger cub. These pics should catch some attention."
I grinned and blushed. I probably looked a little puzzled, too.
"You like when I call you mine, don't you? Yeah, you're mine. I see it in your eyes. You worship me for some reason and that fits my needs just fine. You never asked what my needs were last time. Aren't you curious?"
"Of course. I'm always curious, but I was a little afraid to ask. I figure you'll take what you need. I don't need to know as long as you're happy."
"Oh, I'm happy alright. I'll tell you about those needs tomorrow then. I wish I could see it in person." I look at him confused and he grinned. Naked lust and maybe greed lit his face up. He moved on before I could change my mind and ask what he meant. His voice dropped nearly an octave when he spoke again: "Bring me your collar, bitch," he said, pointing behind me. "I put your name on it."
I turned around and saw the thick brown collar on the bar above the love seat. I picked it up and read the words written in neat Sharpie: "Wes's Bitch Boy". Then I noticed my real name had been written in ink and scratched out beneath the Sharpie. I was surprised at the rush of shame I suddenly felt. He snapped a few more photos
But I said "Thank you, sir." as I brought it to him and then knelt between his wide spread legs. My eyes drank in the thick blond fur that covered his rounded belly and his thin wiry legs as handed him this tangible symbol of his ownership of me. I looked into his piercing eyes for a second before I bowed my head in shame, but I hoped he saw only subservient respect. I'd never been a sub type; I'm too stubborn, but he exuded a cocky confidence that had subtlety shifted to pure dominance both times we'd been alone.
His breathing got heavier and he growled as he unbuckled the collar and fastened it around my neck. He put his hand under my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. "Fuck! You really are mine, boy." Then he leaned forward kissed me hard, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I could taste cigarettes and whiskey just as he snapped the leash I hadn't seen before onto my collar. The moment I heard the clasp of the leash close, I surrendered my mouth to his probing tongue. I kissed him back, but not aggressively like I would have with a regular guy.
Mouths still locked together, he crawled off the chair and pushed me backward, hiking my legs over his shoulders, until I was flat on my back. Our kisses became frantic, we were both growling, and I could feel his oversized dickhead pressing against my tight hole, hot slimy precum was coating my balls and my hole and sliding down my crack. I opened my eyes and he was looking into them already. Few a few seconds we weren't master and boy; we were equals linked by mutual desire. He reluctantly pulled back, but never breaking eye contact. The power dynamic shifted back before he spoke.
His voice cracked while said spoke: "I was going to take you in the bedroom, light candles, and make love to you, going slowly and gently, but I can't. I need you now. Last time you gave your hole to me willingly, but I'm taking your tight hole for myself this time. Right here on this dirty carpet. I'm sorry, boy. It's gonna hurt you..."
I shook my head and leaned my neck forward and thrust my tongue into his mouth, still staring at him, pleading with my eyes for him to just do it. He forced his tongue as far back as he could while he pushed his oversized bulbous dickhead into my precum lubed hole until it passed my sphincter. A wave a nauseating pain caused me to clench, actually squeezing him deeper inside. Logic and overpowering need collided and I pushed my body forward to take him deeper, but also to put the thinnest part of his shaft into the tightest part of my hole. He caught on and buried it to the hilt. Then he pulled it out completely. I didn't usually enjoy being fucked, but I wanted him back inside me. I needed it.
He broke our kiss just enough to say "You shouldn't have done that, boy. I wasn't apologizing because it would hurt, I was apologizing because I want it to hurt." He narrowed his eyes and I did the same. I nodded that I understood.
"Do your worst then, Daddy," I said, realizing it sounded more like a taunt than acceptance. I started to say more, to apologize for what that sounded like, but he'd waited until my pucker closed before shoving it all the way. My next words became a yell of pain. I never saw the slap coming, but I saw those proverbial stars.
"Oh, my boy still has some spirit, huh? Good, I was looking forward to breaking you and then you got all sub on me." His words were syncopated with his unrelenting thrusts, but I defiantly glared back, refusing to acknowledge the pain when I realized he wanted a little fight from me.
I wanted him to pound me harder and he obliged. I tried struggling like I wanted to escape him to provoke him more and he wrapped his hands around my neck. I inhaled a huge gulp of air as his hands tightened. The lack of oxygen wasn't what finally made me surrender. It was waves of pleasure; his thrusting had found "the spot" and my building orgasm took away all desire to provoke or resist him. I smiled at him with pure joy as the first blast my ejaculation splashed against my face, just as the sparkles and ozone smell began, and I lost consciousness.
I came to probably 15 seconds later, my dick was still throbbing and spurting. Wes was literally roaring as his own orgasm arrived, the first blast erupted halfway inside me on as he pulling out for his next thrust, the second splashed into my open hole as he was trying to shove it back in, and the next dozen squirts were as deep as his dick would go. He laid on top of me arms wrapped as tightly around the back of his neck as mine were around his. We both gasped for air as our orgasms slowly diminished. My throbs stopped about 10 seconds before his; my orgasm must have lasted 40 seconds. My balls actually ached.
"Damn, boy. I didn't expect to fuck the cum out of you or choke you into submission. That look on your face, like you were considering whether you should challenge me for dominance, set me off. I loosened my grip as soon as I saw that you'd passed out. Then my dick did, too. Something about a helpless man makes me want to fill him immediately. So I did. I hope you understand." He spoke the words in my ear.
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't intend to fight you. There was just this moment where it hurt so bad and I felt a rush of anger and the instinctual need to hurt you back. I promise; I know my place." My voice was a little raspy from being choked.
"I saw it. I was expecting it eventually. No sub, boy, or slave worth with a speck of self-respect doesn't fight his superior at least once. I've seen you at your work. You're no pushover. Don't make it a habit, but I won't be too hard on you if you cross the line now and then. I picked you because it's more fun when my bitch isn't a tame little dishrag without a backbone. You'll see. You can't change your personality completely, but that doesn't mean I won't discipline you when you deserve it."
He raised up and looked down into my eyes and smiled. He announced: "That was hot as fuck. I haven't cum in a week. I was gonna let you clean up and clean out when you got here, but I couldn't wait when I saw how quickly you got to me and then you didn't even hesitate when I told you to strip. I wanted to reclaim you forcefully and immediately. I hope you only wanted to clean out as a courtesy because now you can't. Not with my sperm in there now."
He stood up, placing his hand firmly in the center of my chest as he did. I took that to mean I should remain, so I did.
He headed to the kitchen and resumed talking as he opened a cabinet and pulled out plastic cups. "I have to head home tonight. I hope I have enough come left for my other half. I'm sure I'll be nice and hard again when I get there thinking about you." He was looking at me through the opening between his sink and the living room: the bar window where my collar had been. He filled two glasses from the sink and went into his bedroom briefly before returning. He grabbed my leash.
"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up first. What did your hookup say when you canceled?"
"Shit! I forgot."
"Where's your phone?"
I pointed at my helmet and he reached over and grabbed it. He asked me the code and I told him. He climbed back on top of me and snapped a few photos. He asked me the other guy's name and I told him that, too. He searched a second and then started typing. Then he chuckled and said, "That's taken care of. I wonder if he'll even reply." A grinned at me as he leaned back and dropped my phone back into my helmet. "If he still does want to meet up with you after that text I just sent him, refer him to me." He thought for a moment: "Yeah, that's something else we'll need to discuss tomorrow."
I hoped he didn't notice my disappointment that he was leaving, but he either did notice or anticipated it. He continued explaining things as he lead me to the restroom. Once again he sat me on the toilet and then turned on the water to the shower.
"Don't worry. I'll be back tomorrow. I don't usually work weekends, but I told my guy I had some recently vacated units to inspect. Wanna see one of them?", he asked as he pulled some bottles out of the medicine cabinet next his sink. He opened three bottles and dumped various pills into one of those small mouthwash cups.
"Two Imodium, 2 Valium to relax you, 3 Advil PM and a little something else to knock you out." He handed me the pill cup and one of the larger plastic cups he'd filled in the kitchen. It smelled like rum and Coke. At least it wasn't whiskey.
I hesitated. "I don't think I'll be able to ride home if I take all of those."
"Oh! No wonder you were looking like I'd stolen your dog. Boy, I'm not sending you home. I want you here when I get back tomorrow. I told you to plan on spending the night." He reached up and unbuckled my collar. "Down the hatch," he commanded.
I tossed all 8 of the pills back at once and washed them down with a burning swallow of the drink. I finished the rest of the half full cup and handed dropped it in the trashcan next to me.
I didn't even realize he was pissing until a blast of his warm yellow urine hit me in the middle of the chest. He stopped after about 10 seconds.
"I've a better idea. Let's rinse off and then I'll hose you down after."
I'd forgotten about what he said would happen for this return visit. He hadn't bothered to remind me either.
It didn't really matter anyway; I'd do pretty much anything to keep him interested.
And I hope you're still interested, too.
The Apartment Manager takes me for a walk next time. See you soon.