Date: Thu, 08 Mar 2007 16:30:46 -0500
From: Josh Armstrong <josh_armstrong2007@hotmail.com>
Subject: Contracted To Justin - Chapter Eight

NOTES>> This is the eighth chapter in the Contracted To Justin series.
*Safe* sex doesn't appear in this story all that often, but I trust it
appears a lot in your own lives. *Sex* does appear quite often though,
sometimes quite graphically, and invariably of the gay and BDSM nature, so
only read on if the law of your chosen land allows. The copyright is all
mine, subject to Nifty's rules on the matter.

This chapter moves the plot forward more than anything else - but hopefully
it will entertain nevertheless. There's some great degradation coming in
chapter nine, and lots of sex in the chapter after that! Meantime, thanks
for all your continued feedback - I really appreciate it. Words positive or
otherwise to josh_armstrong2007@hotmail.com are always much much
appreciated.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Mornings

It was amazing how quickly my degrading tasks had become routine.

Three days ago the thought of licking up my own piss would have disgusted
me. Such activity had never once occurred to me when I'd fantasized about
being someone's sub in the years before I met Justin. And despite stumbling
across the occasional watersports website as I surfed the net for porn,
consuming piss was never something I'd ever contemplated actually doing. Yet
when I had twice pissed myself in my kitchen cupboard that Sunday night and
Monday morning, I had done so without a doubt in my mind that I'd soon be
licking it back up.

In fact knowing that would be the case somehow made pissing myself less of
an issue. Not because I looked forward to licking the piss up - my ability
to enjoy piss licking took a long time to acquire - but because I knew me
pissing without permission would annoy Justin, but that there was a way to
make it up to him - by licking the pissy cupboard clean once I was done.

I'd always avoid doing anything to annoy Justin if at all possible - not
because of the fear of being punished, though that did always linger in the
back of the mind, but because annoying him in itself really hurt me. But if
there was simply no way to avoid annoying him, then the next best thing was
to know there was something I could to that would rectify the situation some
how.

And when you're tied up in a cramped cupboard all night, with no knowledge
of when you're going to be let out, and you're bursting for a piss
throughout, pissing yourself is surely unavoidable. But I knew Justin
wouldn't like that. And the thought of disappointing Justin really depressed
me. Except that there was another thought in my mind - that I could offer to
lick it up once I was done. That would surely please him a little, and the
thought of being able to make up for my fucking up, made me feel better.

Which is why as I had pissed that morning, over myself and the cupboard, I'd
already decided that as soon as I could I'd beg to lick it all up. And
that's what I did. As soon as the cock gag that had been in my throat all
night was removed.

And it worked.

When he'd opened the cupboard door that morning, and seen the piss puddle I
was sitting in, Justin had been seriously annoyed. "Oh, for fucks sake, no,
don't do this shit to me - it's just not good enough. Oh, you filthy
pathetic fuck, get out of there". I quickly crawled out of the cupboard. He
immediately removed the cock gag. We both knew why he did that so quickly,
but I took the initiative. "Please master" I said immediately, despite the
fact it was a struggle to talk after having been gagged for so long, "please
may I lick up my piss. I am really sorry for pissing in the cupboard, it was
bad of me, I have to make it up to you, please let me. Please let me lick
the piss up for you".

He smiled. Which, given how annoyed he'd been just seconds earlier, cheered
me up no end.

"OK piss licker" he said, "I suppose I did say you'd be pissing on the floor
and licking it up a lot from now on. But next time wait until I tell you
when, OK? I'll let you off this time. Well, I'll give your ass twenty swats
later, but that's all". I wasn't sure that was fair at all, but knew better
than to argue, and quickly got about licking up the piss that was in the
cupboard. I was done in minutes.

As I turned round having done my licking duty I noticed that red bucket full
of soapy water again next to the kitchen table. And two clean cloths on the
floor next to it. The table and the floor around it looked pretty rank -
what with the mixture of piss, vomit and cum that was left from the
punishment and fucking I'd received there yesterday. As soon as I saw the
bucket I knew what I had to do. And as my hands were still tied behind my
back, presumably I was going to have to clean up this mess by holding the
soapy cloths in my teeth again. All this was immediately obvious to me, so
much so I was doing my cleaning chore before Justin had even spoken.

As I say, it was amazing how quickly my degrading tasks had become routine.

As Justin left me to my cleaning task various things ran through my mind,
many of which had first occurred to me while I'd sat in the cramped cupboard
before Justin had let me out (I'd woken a good hour before Justin this time)
and all of which bothered me slightly.

First, it was then that it had occurred to me how the locks on all the doors
in the flat had got there - and that the stranger who had face fucked me on
Friday must have installed them. I was still not quite sure why Justin would
want all those locks, but was sure I probably didn't want to know why.

It also occurred to me that yesterday in the restaurant Justin had used one
of my credit cards to pay, and that he'd signed the receipt. But the waiter
knew he was called Justin. And that's not what it said on the card. I was
under the table drinking Justin's piss at the time, so hadn't really
listened to what was said. But I don't remember any questions being asked.
Obviously the waiter knew about Justin's 'friends'. Perhaps he expected
Justin to use his sub's credit cards. But the ease with which Justin could
use my credit was increasingly concerning me.

But the thing that was bothering me most was how this morning was going to
pan out. I had to be at work for nine. I had no idea what time it was now,
except that it was light outside. Was I to just trust Justin to get me to
work on time? Should I remind him? Would that make him angry again? I really
didn't know what to do. Though, for once, Justin allayed by fears somewhat.

"OK, enough, let's get you washed".

Justin had walked back into the kitchen as I finished cleaning off the table
and floor, and quickly directed me into the bathroom where, like yesterday,
he had squirted cheap soap over my head, cock and balls, and back, and then
turned on a powerful spray of cold water. This allayed my fears because the
fact he was getting me washed so early suggested he was working to a
deadline that involved getting me to work on time.

And I was right. From that point onwards Justin directed me through what
would become my early morning routine on work days.

I never did know what time I was woken up, but he always left me enough time
to clean up any mess left from the night before, to take a cold shower, to
stand on my balcony while I dried, to take an open air piss and shit into
that old metal bucket, to take a helping of his piss down my throat, to have
my dick re-encased in its CB3000 cock cage, to have my hands untied, to
prepare him pancakes and bacon and eggs for breakfast, to feed myself
economy line cornflakes and water (or cornflakes and Justin's piss on
special occasions), to clean up breakfast, to get dressed and to travel to
work. And however long that seemed to take me, I always arrived at work on
time.

And some mornings began with me also giving Justin a blow job, or him
fucking me up the ass, or me blowing any friend or one night stand he'd had
stay over, but on those mornings he presumably got me up earlier because
whatever my early morning duties involved, I was always at my office by
nine. If there's one thing being Justin's sub achieved, it made me a whole
load more punctual than I had been before.

"OK, we better get you dressed", Justin had said that first morning, after
my shower and  open air shit (still embarrassing but somehow less so at that
time in the morning - the potential of an audience across the street seem
less likely - plus the morning sun put my balcony in the shadows), and once
my piss drinking, cock caging and breakfast making duties were done.

I followed him into the main bedroom - his bedroom now - where the big chest
that I'd dropped all my clothes into on Saturday morning was still sitting
next to the door. The trunk was already open.

"What do you wear for work?"

"Smart casual, master".

"Cool. OK, so you'll need a shirt and some pants. As it's your first work
day, you can pick out your favourites". After the slutty homemade outfit
he'd made me wear out yesterday this seemed like good news. Of course it was
only a couple of minutes before I realised the implications. But my
immediate reaction was to sincerely say "thank you master" and quickly
locate my favourite shirt and trousers from the cluttered chest - the former
a swish denim shirt I'd treated myself to once from a posh department store
in town, the other a pair of beige jeans that I had always thought really
suited me. I held them up.

"Good" he said. "Put them on the bed. OK, socks. I've got you a present".
>From behind his back he handed me a pair of bright pink socks - he must have
got them out of his bag while I'd be rooting around in the trunk. I took
them off him. Around the top of one was the slogan 'I suck cock', around the
other 'I drink piss'. He smiled as he saw me reading the straplines. No one
would see the writing of course, my trousers would cover them. But the fact
they were there was going to put me on edge all day. And Justin knew that.
"Put them on then". I did as instructed. He smiled.

"OK, underwear. Now, normally you won't wear any. But as it's your first
day, I'm going to give you a special treat. You can wear this". He'd reached
inside his bag and pulled out a jock strap. You guessed it. That jock strap.
The piss, cum, vomit covered strap that had caused me so much heartache
since my new life began. I'd been on an up over breakfast, and the socks,
while making me edgy, hadn't brought me down too much. This did. The thought
of wearing this disgusting smelly jock strap at work was not attractive.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you master"

"Sniff it first, then put it on".

It was the first time I'd been told to sniff this horrible jock. Clearly
Justin wanted me to sample the aroma I'd be carrying around all day. I took
a good sniff. The smell was simply repugnant. It was horrible. Though I did
feel my dick twitch as I inhaled. What was wrong with me?

"When you get home tonight, obviously you'll chuck all that stuff in the
garbage before you come in the flat." Damn. I'd forgotten. I was going to
have to throw my favourite clothes in the bin. "But don't chuck the jock.
Use it as a hat like yesterday. Then when I get home we'll see if we can get
it up your ass". He smiled, and paused again, taking in my look of shock at
that last comment.

"OK, you've got five minutes to get dressed - we need to get a move on". And
with that, he left the bedroom. I stood there for a few seconds, transfixed
by the sight and smell of the jock strap I was going to have to wear, and
puzzling about how I was going to get it up my ass. Was he serious about
that? He'd been serious about everything so far. "Oh, one last thing" he
said, popping his head around the door, "keep your flies unbuttoned, I
prefer it that way". And then he was gone.

Despite the horrible jock strap - the disgusting aroma of which reached my
nose every couple of minutes - and despite the plastic cock cage securely
fastened to my dick and balls, once I was dressed in my smart trousers and
shirt I felt somewhere nearing normal again. And even more so once we left
the flat and began my commute to work.

I hadn't expected Justin to come with me. Perhaps it was an act of authority
- so he could rule over me for as long as possible - but it felt more like a
friendship thing, he wanted to make sure I got there safely. And for a short
while it did feel like we were friends. Well, Justin spent much of the cab
journey to the office giving me orders (yes, he called a cab, which seemed
rather extravagant, but rather fun too), but he didn't provide the orders in
the master sub way he usually did, furthering the idea in my head that we
were nearer to equals here in the outside world.

"Here's five bucks to buy lunch" he said, speaking softly, possibly so the
cab driver couldn't hear. "Don't forget if you need to piss, shit or fart
you have to call me for permission first. You already have my cell number.
Now, at lunchtime you've got an appointment with the doc, he wants to check
you out. You're due there at half twelve, it won't take long and he's just
round the corner from your office, so you should be able to get it all done
in your lunch hour. I want you straight back home after work, we need to get
you shaved and cleaned before dinner".

The 'doc' was Dr Roberts, a friend of Justin who he'd sent me to see before
we'd entered into our contract.

The doctor had been really nice and courteous as he'd given me that
pre-contract health check. And he'd been very thorough too - urine and blood
samples and everything. He'd seemed to assume I was just a friend of
Justin's and had asked no questions as to our relationship. Though now that
Justin had mentioned his name again it had occurred to me I'd never seen the
results of the check, or been asked pay for it. Justin must have settled the
tab, and perhaps he'd been sent the results too. Certainly it had been him
that wanted to know about my health before our new life began. But surely a
doctor couldn't share confidential information about his patients with
another without that patient's permission? Could he?

That possibly should have got me worried, but actually I was glad that [a]
Justin had arranged the check up and that [b] there was a chance the doctor
already knew about me being Justin's sub. I haven't mentioned how much I
ached that morning, or how sore my ass, balls, cock and whole groin was, or
how horribly bruised they all were, because I seem to write about the aching
way too much. But I was in a lot of pain and looked a mess down there, so
the thought of having it all checked out, and without having to explain to
the doctor how I'd got that way, really cheered me up.

But not anywhere near as much as what happened next.

By the time Justin had provided me with all my instructions we were outside
my office. Justin asked the cab driver to wait for him, and got out with me.
He pulled me close to him, squeezed my ass cheeks, and whispered in my ear
"you're doing well Joshy boy, we'll make a proper sub of you yet".

And then he kissed me. On the lips. And pushed his tongue into my mouth.

The kiss only lasted ten seconds, but it was like getting an energy burst.
The aches, the soreness, and the horror of wearing a cock cage and the most
disgusting jock strap in the world, all disappeared I was on such a high.

And it obviously showed. The security guard on the door at work noted how
good I was looking, as did my boss as I passed his office, who also noted my
punctuality (five to nine as I reached by desk). I was feeling good. And I
channeled the high I was experiencing into my work, and achieved more that
morning than I'd probably done the whole previous week. I still ached and
everything, and deep down was pretty tired from my traumatic weekend, but I
was on such a high that never stopped me.

In fact it was nearly half twelve before I knew it.

"Shit", I thought to myself, "my doctor's appointment". Fortunately I was
pretty much able to take my lunch whenever I wanted - I was the only IT guy
in this branch of the company so could pretty much come and go as I pleased
providing I met all my deadlines (which is why my commitment to get to the
office by nine hadn't been that great previously). I turned on my voicemail
and rushed to Doc Robert's surgery. Fortunately it really was close by.

I got there at 12.29pm exactly. Perfect.

Though by the time I was sitting in the waiting room it was 12.40pm. It had
taken me a short while because when I'd got to the surgery the main door was
locked, which had confused me a lot. Especially as the opening hours printed
on the door said the surgery was closed between 12 and 3 on a Monday. But
I'd eventually found an intercom, pressed the button, and found a helpful
receptionist who was obviously expecting me, and who had buzzed open the
door.

Having successfully got inside I didn't think too much about the fact the
surgery was officially closed. Nor did I think too much about the fact the
surgery's waiting room was completely empty. Or that there was a pair of
trousers, a shirt, a pair of boxers and a pair of shoes, neatly stacked on
one of the chairs.

Instead, after making some idle chit chat with the pretty girl on reception
- the weather, how out of breath climbing the two flights of stairs had made
me - I'd picked up a newspaper, taken a seat, and caught up on a world I'd
been cut off from for three days. Despite everything, the normality I'd felt
since getting dressed that morning, and the high I'd been on since Justin's
kiss, all remained.

Until, five minutes later, that is, when the door of Dr Roberts' office
opened.

And the doctor walked out with two guys.

One of whom was naked.

His hands clasped behind his neck. His head bowed. His cut six inch dick was
fully erect, and sticking out in front of him.

I noticed he had no body hair.

And also that there was a chain around his neck - not a jewelry type chain -
but the kind of chain you'd put on a dog.

I was immediately on edge again. What kind of doctor's surgery was this
where patients were escorted back to the waiting room naked?

"OK, cunt boy," Dr Roberts said. At first I thought he was talking to the
naked guy, but then I realized he was walking in my direction and talking to
me. By now he was standing next to me, handing me a glass. "Get your kit off
and piss in this, and no messing round cunt boy, I've not got time for any
of your cunt boy shit".

-----------------------------------------------------------

To be continued - chapter nine coming very soon! Meantime, comments and
thoughts positive or otherwise are always much much appreciated -
josh_armstrong2007@hotmail.com