Secret Slave Whore

Once about every year I get a phone call from some men I know. I’d say where, but I really don’t know. They’ll call me up and ask if I’m available for the next couple of months. Of course, I am. That couple of months pay for the rest of the year. They send me the tickets and away I go. I’m not always there for the full two months. Sometimes they’ll just fly me in for a party and fly me back home in a couple of days. Those can be a real trip for sure. A few times I just hung out with them at some place in the desert by a pool. They’d fuck me. But it was all pretty garden variety. Garden variety for me anyway. Other times… even I was like, “What the fuck?” They were into it all, but I never knew what their mood was until I got there. They knew my whole story too, so they could, depending on their mood, make it a mind-blowing 3-day sex orgy or really make it all hell for me. Either way, they knew I was up for it. You can’t fake being a slave whore. The only real way to do it is for it to be the kind of shit you get into anyway. If you’re not really into being a slave whore, I wouldn’t recommend it as a career path for you.
The tickets were for San Francisco. I flew in at about 5 at night. The lights were just starting to flicker on as I was looking out the window.
I met Jim at the curb with my bag. He had that big, ass-eating, mustache grin on his face. It was good to see him and we hugged our hellos. I loved his big hairy smell. We took off down the road. Who knows where he took me? I don’t know it well enough to have a clue where I was.
“What kind of twisted agenda do you have for me this time,” I asked.
There’s that fucking grin again. This time with a bit of a low chuckle. He was giving me a chub. We pulled up in front of this huge Victorian mansion. It sat in the middle of a row of houses all painted pink and purple and then right in the middle of all that sits this gargantuan black house. I don’t mean black with white trim with purple highlights. This house is painted solid black from the door knobs to the windows. The little fucking lawn that they had in front of it was painted black. Hmmm. Isn’t that odd? I would have figured that the neighbors wouldn’t like that shit one bit. They must be invited to whatever twisted event is going on here tonight.
The front door opens and it’s Frank. His bald head reflected some of the last of the sun going down. He had a smile too, but not like Jim’s. His was more menacing. Like he had been kept waiting. Frank didn’t like to be kept waiting.
“Come on boy, I don’t have all fuckin’ day. You got to be hosed out. Now quit your fuckin’ around and get in here.”
I hopped to and did as I was told. I knew well enough this wasn’t going to be one of those, ‘picnics by the pool’ kind of a visit. So when I got inside the door, I dropped my bag and then stripped down. My clothes and shoes went into the bag and I handed them to Frank.
“Good boy,” he said.
He inspected me. Looked in my nose and ears. Opened my mouth with his thick fingers. I could smell some other boy’s ass on them. He turned me around and bend me over.
“Spread your legs,” he instructed.
He held my asshole open wide.

Open Asshole

Open Asshole

“It will do, but it’s going to have to be shaved and hosed out. And I’m gonna shave your head too while I’m at it.”
“Up the stairs boy.”
I went upstairs and saw what looked like a big warehouse. In the middle was a tub with a contraption that looked like ropes and pulleys. I couldn’t really figure it all out. There was scaffolding and build-up platforms in different configurations around the center.
It almost looked like a puppet show without the puppet. I was pretty sure that I was the puppet.
Frank started strapping me in. They were like long sleeves without the shirt part and long pants without the crotch part made of leather with O-rings attached to them every 4 inches or so. They fit my tall, humpy body well and my big buddy started to swell as Frank pulled and tugged at me as he fit me into his contraption. He hooked all the rings to their own thin, strong nylon cord. It looked complicated, but I was surprised at how exposed I was. Standing naked in the middle of a warehouse, strapped up to this rope restraining/control device, next to a big claw bathtub. Frank walked behind me. All at once I was off the ground and my legs were spread open wide. My knees were being pulled back towards my shoulders and my arms out to my side and up a way. All this at about a 45-degree angle. Being held n that position, I was suddenly tilted backward. And there was Frank’s big head staring at me upside down. Now he had the ass-eating grin and he said, “I guess we have you sufficiently trussed up!”
I then went back to the last position I was in with my head up. It was comfortable really. And the air on my hole was starting to tickle a bit. Thwack! “All right then. Let’s get you properly cleaned out,” he said as he slapped my ass hard with his big hand. He pulled a rope and I swung over the tub. Another pull and I raised higher in the air. Frank was sniffing my hole. I could feel his breath. He got a little closer and I felt his big mustache brush against my widening hole. Then I was back down. Frank was standing right outside the tub with a spray nozzle. He wet down my ass and cock with warm water. My nuts started to relax and hang lower. He worked my crotch muscles with his hands as he continued to rinse me down. He shook up the shaving cream and spread it on my heavy nuts and ass crack. The shaving cream had some kind of menthol in it and my skin felt on fire, but good. He shaved me smooth. He left a bush but still trimmed it back close. Then my nuts got slowly pulled out and shaved. Down through my taint and onto my hole, which was really burning now. It felt like it was glowing red. I felt the water from the hose start to rinse everything off. Smooth as glass. I felt the nozzle start to press against my hole. As I relaxed I felt the warm water start to spread into my rectum, forcing it gently apart. Then up into my guts, it glided along.
It stopped.
“Hold that here,” Frank said.
I felt like I needed to let it go, but I didn’t want to disappoint Frank.
“OK, Go!”
I gushed out a bucket of shit and shit water. It came pouring out of me like Niagara. It was a bit embarrassing. But soon with repeated flushing, I was running clean as a whistle. Frank finished cleaning me up by soaping up my crotch area and rinsing me down again. He finished by rubbing me down with oil. He paid special attention to my hole, greasing it all up inside and out. His thick fingers pressed deep inside me, holding open my hole to let all the water run out.
“You stay put and drain good.” My man pussy kept dripping water for a while. Eventually, Frank came back and dried me off well.
“Ok, boy, you’ve seen enough for now.”
And with that, I was blindfolded. I was comfortable in my positioning and I easily fell asleep with my dirty hole cleaned out, my cunt properly greased, and my world, pitch black.
I woke to the sounds of furniture or something being moved into the warehouse. Soon it was clear that there was a whole crew delivering, assembling and noisily setting up the room. There were power tools and hammering. Every once in a while I could make out some comment about the hunky guy strapped up naked in the middle of the room. Once I felt someone lightly touch my stomach, but someone pulled him back. It had turned me on being on display like that and I could feel that my meat had gotten fat and hard. The pre-cum started to drip out of the slit and pool on my belly. They seemed to be there for about 2 hours, but I couldn’t be sure. I fell asleep again.
I woke up this time to the sounds of music. It started low at first but then started to increase in volume. It was early evening club music. Soon I started to hear the sounds of the party around me. Men talking above the music and boots clomping across the floor, bottles of beer being opened and the bottle caps hitting the trash cans. Low masculine laughter and the loud clash of beer bottles broke as they were casually tossed into bins. I could hear old friends meeting for the first time and with my hearing sense heightened, I even thought I could hear the slapping together of large naked bear chests.
The night went on and more often I felt as if I was the center of attention of some small group of men. A comment about the trussed-up boy in the middle room, an occasional pinch of my nipple, a gentle grope of my ass, cock, or balls. Over the next several hours, the party started to get a little more well lubricated and there was less pretense. My cock started to be pulled on hard as I heard a heavy set of boots clomp on by or my nuts slapped… I started to feel the cold mouth of a long neck on my hole or a slippery, thick middle finger slip into the middle knuckle. But it was still just a big party of men getting drunk. I could smell different kinds of smoke wafting around, sometimes a big mustached mouth would blow a hit of whatever they were smoking into my lungs, and I had a good 6 or 7 beers poured down into me too. I was feeling very relaxed now when the candy started getting put under my nose and my mouth and one nostril were held shut. If I wasn’t horny by now, I was really about to be up for anything soon.
To be continued

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