Date: Wed, 23 Mar 2011 04:02:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Vincent Vincent <not_your_typical_master@yahoo.com>
Subject: Penance - Chapter 2

This is a work of fiction.  Copyright 2011.  Any praise, criticism, or
comments are to be sent to me: Not_your_Typical_Master@yahoo.com

Enjoy!

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


September 5th

It's been hard, these evenings, to come home and start cooking YOUR meal
for YOU without being able to ask what it is YOU might like.  Knowing that
if what I've cooked displeases YOU, the clock then resets and the year
starts anew.  I'm grateful that I've already had a year of practice to
learn YOUR tastes.  My work in catering makes me at least a little talented
in trying new spices to flavor YOUR food in ways I hope are pleasing.  Like
a good servant, I quietly stand behind YOU at the table, ready to pour more
wine or add another serving of anything YOU might like.  (Once soon after
YOU first moved in, I made the mistake of setting the table for two.  YOU
made it clear that my sitting with YOU ruins YOUR appetite.)  Only after
YOU have finished YOUR meal do I allow myself anything to eat, eaten
quickly while cleaning up the kitchen for YOU.

I need to thank YOU, also, for how these new protocols have turned simple
tasks into chances to thank and please YOU.  Today was a day off and I
spent it doing chores around the house.  Dusting, vacuuming, laundry.  But
now I am aware of each speck of dust, each mote of dirt, taken away to make
this home more pleasant for YOU.  My selfish dick drools as I carefully
fold YOUR briefs and iron YOUR jeans so YOU will look even more handsome to
the world.  I am increasingly seeing myself as little more than YOUR
servant.  And rather than that being a complaint or insult, I am satisfied
because it is a place where I feel useful to YOU.  Thank YOU so much for
being here today and providing a reason for me to work around YOU.  My
stupid prick got erect dusting the coffee table around YOUR feet.  Never
before has housework become an erotic act.  Thank YOU for showing me new
ways to perform sexually for YOU, since I am now forbidden to service YOUR
magnificent prick with these tired old holes.

I have come to enjoy scrubbing the floor of the kitchen naked, kneeling
like some common servant, while YOU look in and chuckle.  Yes, it's
humiliating work, but it (and I) serves a purpose.  This is the kitchen
where I do a lot of my work for clients, and although I enjoy it, this
sexual tension only exists when I clean it for YOU or cook YOUR meals.  i
think of the food I prepare here for YOU, and how lucky that food is to get
to be in YOUR mouth, caressed by YOUR tongue.

Similarly, naked, kneeling, scrubbing YOUR bathroom clean is anything but a
chore.  Thankfully, YOU have never demanded that I lick YOUR toilet clean,
or use my toothbrush to scrub it (I have read of such things), but YOU know
I would accept YOUR rules without complaint.  Instead, I lovingly scrub the
facilities YOU use for hygiene to make them the most pleasant for YOUR use.
What was the drudgery of housework has now become an opportunity to show my
affection for YOU.  To show how much YOU are desired and needed.  Thank YOU
so much for this.  I hope and pray YOU find me at least worthy to be YOUR
maid.




September 19th

Last night I had an epiphany.

YOU announced that YOU were inviting friends over and that I should prepare
dinner for 8.  I went to the store for groceries and prepared lasagna for
YOUR guests.

The first to arrive were a Master and Mistress and their slave.  I was
dumbstruck when I saw him, crawling obediently behind them, body bruised
and disfigured from abuse.  His nipples were swollen and stretched to the
point of obscenity; they had teeth marks in them to show how often they
were gnawed and chewed.  His balls were stretched with what seemed like 25
rings, painfully taught and swinging almost all the way to his knees.  And
his toothless mouth was set in a silent, happy grin, his ringed nose
leashed with a chain his Master held.  It was a terrifying sight to see
what these two had done to this slave, both physically and mentally.  How
could somebody enjoy such a life?

Then arrived another Master with his two slaves, one male and one female.
Although they were not completely disfigured like the first, they were
silent, leashed by their noses and quietly crawling behind their Owner,
looking down at his feet with great devotion.  The male slave was younger
than the first male slave and appeared to be toothless as well.

I was told to sit in the corner and observe as the three slaves took care
of YOU and YOUR friends.  The four of YOU spoke to each other in another
language.  I couldn't understand a word YOU said, and I don't think the
slaves did either.  I watched as YOU ordered them to serve food and drink
but didn't otherwise acknowledge their presence, realizing this was how you
saw me as well.  YOUR slave.

But I felt so unprepared, so unworthy, so incredibly useless, even
physically inferior to these slaves.  I hadn't immediately recognized that
the slaves had identical piercings and tattoos on their flesh.  On the
inside of their arms: OBEDIENCE and SERVITUDE. The inked collars around
their necks.  Barcodes on their chests.  Their foreheads marked them as
FAGBOY, FAGDAD, and BITCHGIRL.  Their nipples and noses were all pierced
with large, thick rings.  The men's cockheads were ringed as well.

The slaves' silent service during dinner was perfect.  The four of YOU
never had to reach for anything beyond your plates or glasses.  All done
silently as YOU talked using a language none of us could understand.

After dinner I hoped I could at least be allowed to help clean up, but YOU
did not allow that honor.  Instead I had to watch these acclimated servants
prove to me just how much farther there was for me to go.  Without saying a
word, they coordinated into a team to clean everything up while making sure
YOU were all satisfied with evening snacks and drinks.  I bit my lip in
sadness, feeling so useless and unworthy.  Unworthy to even be YOUR slave.

Then YOU had the two male slaves hug.  And then I finally realized the
resemblance: FAGDAD and FAGBOY were father and son.  I was dying of
curiosity but knew better than to ask.  A slave is to remain silent.  That
was made abundantly clear.

At one point one of the Masters, the one who was older (i think you called
him Alexi) announced that he needed to piss.  The slaveboy and slavegirl
started to crawl up to him but YOU told them to stop.  YOU told YOUR
friends that I am so proud to have a spotless kitchen and that it would be
fun if all of YOU used it as your urinal.  Not just piss in the sink, but
all over the kitchen.  On the table, in the oven, in the fridge.  Anywhere
and everywhere.  I gasped as the Masters and Mistress chuckled and Alexi
got up to use the kitchen.  YOU and the other Master joined him there as
the Mistress looked at me, shook her head, and said "I hope you know what
you're getting into."

Once the three of YOU returned, YOU looked at me, cocked YOUR head into the
kitchen and simply said "Clean."  I scurried in and found piss splashed
from the stove and the cabinets.  I opened them and found pots and pans
dripping in piss.  The fruit and veggies hanging from the stand on the
counter were also pissed on.  One of YOUR friends yelled in to me: "Don't
waste that food; it's marinating to be extra nutritious for a slave."
Everyone laughed.  Everyone but me.

I spent the rest of the night washing and cleaning everything in the
kitchen.  As I'd finished one area and gone to the next, one of YOU would
once again empty YOUR bladder, aiming for what had just been cleaned.  I
knew the smart thing to do would be to just wait until YOU had all left or
gone to bed, but I knew I was part of the entertainment... to fight a
losing battle of endless frustration.

And suddenly I understood.  That was to be my life.  A losing battle of
endless frustration.  If I was to remain serving YOU, I had better get used
to it.  Better find a way to enjoy it.  To be more like those other slaves,
my superiors, genuinely happy to be frustrated and tormented as part of
their service.

Right at that moment YOU sauntered into the kitchen, stopping right behind
me.  YOU said only three words as YOUR friends stepped behind YOU to watch.
"Head down.  Baptism."  I kept my head down as YOU baptized me with YOUR
piss.  YOUR stream was strong and seemed to last forever.  I was ecstatic,
my stupid dick rock hard feeling YOUR fluid soaking into my skin.  When YOU
finished, YOU flicked YOUR cock at me, turned around, and walked away, the
other Masters giving you high-fives.

My eyes watered as I continued to clean, both from the saltiness of YOUR
urine and from the joy of having been elevated to be worthy of YOUR
baptism.  To have the stink of YOUR piss soaking into my flesh.  I tasted
some off my arm and almost shot a load without even touching my cock.  It
was bitter, salty, and sweet, all at once.  A taste I will never forget.  A
nectar I will forever crave.  A new addiction.

Now a losing battle of endless frustration suddenly made sense.  For the
rest of the night I made love to YOUR sacred piss (and that of YOUR
friends) as I sucked it from the cabinets, from the inside of the oven and
refrigerator, from the floor.  I kept the pissed-on fruits and vegetables
to eat on my own should I be wanting a snack.  They won't last long.  I'm
already craving them.

While I was busy in the kitchen, Ii heard one of the slaves screaming in
agony over and over again in some diabolical rhythm.  I could hear his
moans get deeper and louder and I eventually heard it cry out what sounded
like an orgasm.  Holy fuck.  The four of YOU trained it to cum from being
tortured.  (YOU told me later that you were electrotorturing its nuts and
nips.)  I have so much to learn.  I'm such a neophyte.  A newbie.  Some
untrained cuntboy wanting to be YOUR perfect slave.  I have so much to
learn.  I hope I get it right before YOU get bored with my pathetic excuse
for service.

Thank YOU so much for inspiring me.  I know I'm too raw, too unfinished, to
be YOUR slave.  But at least I now have a goal to reach, an ideal in my
head.  I want to be just like those other slaves.  I keep them in my head
as an example on how to best please YOU.