Date: Fri, 19 Aug 2011 21:54:35 -0400
From: Kyle Johnson <ttennis550@hotmail.com>
Subject: Enslaved On Vacation, Part 8

Enslaved on Vacation, Chapter 8          (Gay, authoritarian)


	I crouched on the kitchen floor dejected.  My body was on overload
from my Master's torment -- my newly shaved skin tingled and shivered, my
cock ached for a release I feared was a long way off, my knees were
starting to hurt from all the crawling, I was humiliated beyond belief, and
I couldn't rid my mouth of the putrid gravy aftertaste that results from
eating Alpo.  Worse was that was my stomach.  The Fibrolax that Drew had
made me drink was making for a constant abdominal pain.  I was starting to
really have to focus on my bowels to avoid disaster.

	As I struggled to crawl into the living room, I thought about the
best possible way to beg for a bathroom break.  I slunk to his feet.  "May
I please have permission to ask a question, Master?"  Drew must have been
able to hear the anguish in my voice and he knew he had me on the ropes.

	"Sure, faggot, but I don't know what you possibly could want," he
sarcastically replied.

	"Please, Master.  I really, really, really need to take a shit.  My
stomach is killing me.  I feel like I am about to explode, Master.
Please."  I whined and begged at his feet, which seemed to be one of his
favorite activities for me.

	"Hmm.  Well I wasn't planning on letting you go all night.  You
need to learn to control your fucking body.  But you do seem to be having a
rough time of it.  I don't know."

	"Oh please, Master.  I'll do anything."  As usual, I started
kissing his feet as I groveled.  Master seemed to like it when I
voluntarily subjected myself to such an extreme level of degradation.

	"Hmm.  Well I am feeling generous.  I guess I could make you a
little deal.  Your fourth ordeal was supposed to last for a half an hour.
If you really want to go to the bathroom, I am going to double it to an
hour...and then you can go relieve yourself after it's over."  I was NOT
happy that I was going to have to wait another hour.  Nor was I happy that
he had just decided to double whatever my next nightmare was.  I didn't
know if I could hold it that long.  But at least he had agreed to let me
go.  "Speaking of that fourth ordeal, I bet you wanna get fucking started.
I know I do."

	At that, Master Drew ordered me to get up on my knees and put my
hands on my head.  He retrieved a tube of Extra Strength Ben Gay from his
bag of supplies.  "Do you know what this is, slave?"

	I was puzzled.  Although I had never used it before, I did know
what it was.  "Yes, Master.  It's for people who have muscle aches."

	Drew laughed.  "I guess that's right.  Do you have any muscle
aches, bitch?"

	"Um, no Master.  Not really."

	"Well what about your fucking penis muscles?  They look like they
could use some relief."

	I got it now.  I imagined that Ben Gay probably made the skin
really cool and tingly, almost numb even.  It probably wouldn't be the most
pleasant, but it probably wouldn't be as bad as the goddamn dog food
either.  "Whatever you say, Master."

	"That's right--whatever I say.  So let me fully explain.  Your
fourth ordeal is this.  Every five minutes, I will apply a fresh layer of
Ben Gay to your cock and balls.  You will kneel there with your hands on
your head and smile.  You will even thank me every time I do it.  You will
say `Thank you for touching my worthless cock, Master.'  This will go on
for a full hour.  That's twelve fucking applications of cream.  Oh, and
don't worry...I have another tube just in case I run out.  If you make it
through the hour without fucking up, then I might let you take your little
bathroom break.  Is that understood, faggot?"

	I nodded.  Master Drew looked at his watch, and at the appropriate
moment, cracked open the tube and squirted a huge glob of the stuff into
his hand.  He started with my cockhead and rubbed it generously with the
goop.  Covering the full surface, he moved on to my ball sack and did the
same to it.  I have to admit, the touch of his hands on my genitals felt
awesome, and I truly did mean it when I said, "Thank you for touching my
worthless cock, Master."  The Ben Gay at first just felt really cool on the
skin.  Within a few seconds, though, I realized that this was not going to
be a walk in the park.  The tip of my cock started to burn a bit.  And then
my balls.  The pain intensified until it felt like my entire scrotum had
caught fire.  If I thought my cock had been in agony before from the Viagra
and lack of release, I was learning a new definition of misery now.  I had
seriously never felt anything so horrendously painful.  It felt like
someone had stuck a hot iron inside my dick and was prodding around.  I
wanted to scream.  But Master had instructed me to smile through the whole
thing.  As I knelt there in the middle of his living room, I squirmed my
hips a bit, trying in vain to gain some sort of relief.  I struggled to
maintain the fake smile I had plastered on my face.  Drew could see the
pain in my eyes, and was enjoying every minute of it.

	Just as I was starting to get accustomed to the sting, Master's
watch beeped, signifying it was time for the second application.  This time
there was a little less sincerity in my voice as I said, "Thank you for
touching my worthless cock, Master."  With each five-minute period, the
pain got a little worse.  My cock and balls burned a little more intensely.
Inexplicably, though, with each five minutes, my desire for my torturous
young Master grew a little more as well, and my cock seemed to grow a
little harder.  Obviously, I stayed completely aroused for the entire hour,
even though it was without a doubt the most agonizing pain I had ever
experienced.

	At long last, the hour was up.  "Time's up.  You did well, slave.
Tell me how your cock feels, and be honest."

	"It feels miserable, Master.  I have never been in so much pain in
my life."

	"Haha.  That's fucking great.  How about your stomach.  Do you
still need to shit?"

	I guess as a result of the ungodly pain that had overcome my groin
area, I had almost forgotten about my stomach troubles.  But the moment
Drew brought it up again, I again noticed the grumbling of my stomach.
Come to think of it, I was amazed I had made it through the hour without
having an accident.  "Oh hell yes, Master.  I really have to go.  Please
let me."

	"Hmm, well I don't want dog shit all over my floor, bitch.  I guess
I will be fucking generous and let you go, but only on a few conditions."
There ALWAYS seemed to be conditions, I thought, as I admired Master Drew's
torturous smile.  "For one, between my front door and the women's bathroom
by the pool, you have to hop on your left foot.  If you fucking try to run
or walk or do anything but hop, I will buy ten more tubes of Ben Gay and
fucking drown your cock in it.  Got that, bitch?"

	"Yes, Master."  It was going to be tough enough trying not to
attract attention to myself without bouncing up and down on one foot, but
as usual, this complicated matters.  I was hairless and naked, wearing a
goddamn dog collar, and being forced to prance to a public women's
restroom.  But as I glanced at the clock, I noticed it was almost 11:00,
and I knew the pool was supposed to be closed by now.  I prayed that no one
would be in the pool area.

	"Also," Master continued, "remember you are a complete bitch, so
anyone you meet, you should be careful to address them as Sir or Ma'am.
You need to learn how to fucking respect your superiors.  And pretty much
everyone is superior to you, faggot."  Master Drew laughed, really soaking
in the degradation he was laying on me.  "Now get your ass moving.  If you
take too long, I'll just have to punish you more."

	He slapped my ass, and that was all I needed to hurry to the door.
Master Drew slammed it behind me, and although there was no one in view in
the outside hallway, in my mind it seemed like I was in the center of a
sold-out football stadium.  I had never been naked in such a public place,
or any public place really for that matter.  Sure, I had lost a bet with
friends and had to streak around a house or something like that once or
twice, but that was nothing.  I literally could be caught by any of
hundreds of resort guests, and I was naked and wearing a dog collar.
Resigned to my fate, and with my stomach screaming for relief, I started
hopping down the hall towards the pool area.  This was much harder than I
had imagined.  Like I said, I was very athletic, so balance was not an
issue.  What was an issue, though, was the fact that my aching cock and
balls, still on fire from the hellacious hour of Ben Gay, bounced up and
down, jarring against my thighs with every hop.  It was constant pain that
I didn't want or need.  Nevertheless, I continued to bound towards the
location of my relief, and as I rounded the corner to the wide open pool
area, I breathed a sigh of relief -- there wasn't a soul in sight.

	By this time, I had really caught my stride, and was taking huge
hopping bounds (as painful as they were, they were efficient).  I scurried
by the pool and was halfway to the restroom hut when I heard a loud laugh.
"FAAAAGGGGG!!"  It was Master Drew's voice yelling.  By this point, I would
recognize that sexy condescending tone anywhere.  I turned my head enough
to see him cracking up on his balcony.  I was terrified that someone would
hear and it would attract attention to me, but I thankfully made it into
the restroom undetected.

	It was a big, multi-person restroom, so I unfortunately couldn't
lock the door.  Not that there was time for that -- I made a beeline for
the nearest stall and slammed my ass down on it.  With a single motion, I
exploded.  I felt like I was shitting my large intestine out.  Never in my
twenty years had I gone that much at once.  As I hunched on the toilet,
catching my breath, I though about what must have been in that toilet.
Probably the two bologna sandwiches my mom had fixed me for lunch (likely
the last decent meal I will eat for a while, I thought).  Maybe the charred
chicken skins that Master had spit on and made me eat for dinner, and
certainly the Alpo.  God knows that shouldn't take long to digest.  Either
way, my stomach felt 1000% better.

	With the pain in my stomach now alleviated, though, my body was
able to focus in on what now seemed an even worse ache in my cock and
balls.  They still burned as if Master Drew had just now applied a fresh
coating of Ben Gay, and all the jarring from the hop over had done them no
good.  I couldn't believe I had volunteered for all of this.  What was even
more baffling was my cock.  I had never felt so turned on in my life, and
in some twisted depth of my mind, I was enjoying every new punishment that
my boy god master dreamed up.

	A voice jarred me out of my reflective daze: "Excussa me, but the
bassroom iss closing for de night."  It sounded like a middle-aged Hispanic
woman, and she was right outside my stall.  She must have been there to
clean for the night.

	I struggled to collect myself.  "Uhh, okay, I am sorry I will be
right out...Ma'am," I said, remembering to address my "superiors" with
respect.

	After a brief pause, the woman replied.  "You know dis is womans
restroom.  What you doing in here?"

	"Oh, I am really sorry Ma'am.  I must have been mixed up.  It won't
happen again."  I really hoped it wouldn't happen again.

	The woman did not seem fully satisfied with this response, but
after another moment, she gruffly told me to hurry up and that she would be
waiting outside to come in and clean.  This was horrible.  Now I would have
someone waiting to witness me come out, naked as a newborn, and fully boned
up.  (My boner hadn't even gone down enough to allow me to piss).  Not only
that, but once outside the restroom, I would have to immediately start
hopping, or else suffer my Master's added wrath.  I resolved that I would
not say a word to the woman, but would just turn and hop quickly away and
hope she didn't pursue me.

	I quickly wiped my ass, exited the stall, and washed my hands.  I
looked in the mirror at the faggot I had become.  Sure I had always been
gay, but this was different.  Eight hours ago, I had been an apparently
straight, popular soccer jock, your normal all-American teenage boy.  Now I
was standing in the women's bathroom naked.  I had absolutely no hair
anywhere below my neck, something I hadn't experienced probably for almost
a decade.  I was taking orders from a younger boy.  And to top it off, I
was wearing a dog collar.  I shook my head.  "It will be worth it," I
though, picturing Master Drew's unbelievably sexy body.  I took a deep
breath and swung the door to the bathroom open.

	The woman hadn't been lying when she said she would wait right
outside.  She couldn't have been more than a few feet away from the door,
and her chin dropped in shock at the sight of me.  Her eyes looked more
disgusted than anything, and as I hurriedly hopped away, she muttered,
"ehhhh...Maricon."  I had no idea what it meant, but I knew by her tone
that it wasn't a compliment.  Again, Master Drew was laughing his ass off
from the balcony above.  Luckily for me, I think he was laughing too
intensely even to shout anything derogatory.  I was also very relieved that
the Spanish cleaning woman hadn't had the desire to try and track me down.

	Within two minutes, I found myself back at the door to unit 269,
and knocked quietly so as not to attract attention.  Master Drew opened it
slightly, but the chain lock was on so I couldn't get in.  He smirked at me
through the opening, and even as I dreaded what he had in mind, I couldn't
help but notice the gleam in his boyish dimples and think about how badly I
wanted him.

	"Not so fast, faggot.  Admission isn't fucking free."

	I really did not want to hear this.  I had pressed my luck long
enough out here, and it was only a matter of time before someone came out
of their room and discovered me.  "Come on, Master.  Please let me back in.
I want to serve you more and I can't do it from out here.  Pleeease,
Master."  I slunk to my knees.  I mentally noted that it was seemingly
every five minutes that I ended up voluntarily kneeling at my Master's feet
begging for one thing or another.

	"Here's what you have to do to get back in, fag.  First, put your
hands on your head, and go hump that railing across the way.  Do it for a
full minute, and then stand up and yell `I AM A WORTHLESS CUNT' at the top
of your lungs.  Now I know you don't have a fuckin' watch on, so you'll
have to estimate the minute.  But if you don't hump for at least a full
minute, or if I don't think you screamed at the top of your lungs, I'll
make you do it all over again.  Now get started, faggot."

	God, Drew was really evil.  Clever, but evil.  I knew arguing would
get me nowhere, so I crawled over to the railing he had indicated.  It was
only a few feet from his door.  I put my hands up on my head and started
humping a post on the railing.  I bucked my hips in and out, and knew I
must really look like a slut.  Despite the fear of being noticed and the
intense humiliation, it actually felt great for my cock to get some
friction like this, even if I knew I wasn't allowed to cum.  Knowing that I
had to err on the long side of a minute, I slowly counted to 90 as I
humped.  Miraculously, no one appeared to notice.  Having finished, I
cupped my hands around my mouth and prepared to carry out the second part
of my "admission fee."  I really hoped Drew would open the door quickly and
let me in, because I knew people would come out to see what the yelling was
about.  I let it rip: "I AM A WORTHLESS CUNT."  It echoed off the
buildings, and as I yelled it, I actually believed it.  I was a worthless
cunt.  I was Master Drew's property, no better than the dirty sock he made
me suck earlier.  He could use me, abuse me, degrade me, and throw me out.
My cock seemed to love that, but the rest of me was still getting used to
it.

	Thankfully, Master Drew's door swung open immediately, and he
grinned widely as I hurried to crawl inside.  He closed the door behind me.
I didn't need to be told that I owed him a thank you.  Diving at his feet,
I started my usual groveling.  "Thank you so much for letting me use the
restroom and for letting me back into your condo, Master.  I am your
worthless cunt and you are so generous to me, Master."  It was a sincere
thank you.  I was glad to be back inside; safe from the peering eyes of the
vacationing public, but far from safe from my Master's devious mind.



...


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