Date: Mon, 19 Oct 2015 00:18:46 +0200
From: Brian Bainbridge <brwainwright@gmx.com>
Subject: From Foot Fun to Master?Parts V

"FROM FOOT FUN TO MASTER: PART V"

BRB


	We stayed eighteen days at the ranch when Master decided it was
time to go back to his house. I packed his BMW and chauffeured him
home. Master does not like to ride in the van he bought me very often
because he believes his fully loaded BMW is a car more worthy of his Master
status.

During our visit, Master used me for fun in the old bunkhouse eight times
and even more times in the bedroom. He has also been using Mr. Ping Pong
Paddle, now simply known as Mr. Paddle, during Cock and Ball Torture
sessions. Since rediscovering Mr. Paddle, his CBT of his property has been
getting rougher than it was before our visit to the ranch. I am quickly
getting used to the increased pain because I know this brings him
pleasure. He tells me that soon I should not be able to distinguish between
pleasure and pain during CBT.  As painful as it has been lately, I so badly
want to be a good slave and please him. He is always right in deciding how
I can best serve him, so I know he is right about this tool.

	Shortly after beginning our drive home, which is seventy-eight
miles from door to door, he received a call from Marty. Marty is a
paralegal in his office, and Collin is a lawyer in Master's office. They
have been in a Dom-sub relationship since shortly after they met ten years
ago. Master cannot understand why the two of them haven't signed a
Master-slave agreement because he thinks Marty would be a good Master.

	In my chauffer role, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation
Master was having with Sir (I must address a fellow dominant as
Sir). "We're on the road home and should be home in about an hour. That's
no problem; bring the papers, and I'll be glad to look at them. For a
minute or so, Master listened and then said, " Let me warn you, we've been
gone for almost three weeks, so I'm not sure what we have for food or
appetizers in the house. Slaveboy will do grocery shopping tomorrow."

	Master then told me that Marty (Sir) and his sub, Collin would be
visiting his home later this evening. After unpacking his car, I was to go
in the kitchen and see what sorts of appetizers I could create with the
available food we had to serve both he and Sir. My formal serving attire:
black briefs, black bow tie, and two ankle bracelets labeled SLAVEBOY would
be my dress for the evening.

	About twenty minutes after we got to Master's home, the doorbell
rang.  I answered it and lead Sir and Collin into the living room where
Master was sitting in his favorite wingback chair waiting for them. Master
and Sir hugged and kissed and then sat down. Sir told Collin, "Go in the
kitchen and help Slaveboy." For a few minutes, Collin and I prepared
crackers and cheese, cocktail sausages served with honey Dijon salad
dressing, and chips and salsa. The pickings were pretty slim.

Master and Sir were talking when Master rang his bell for me to enter. "Go
to the bar and pour Sir and I a glass of wine." He told me to then go into
the kitchen and bring in the appetizers. Sir then said, Brian, let's speed
this up a notch."

	Master, thinking Sir wanted to get home after a long workday said,
"Sure."

	Sir then yelled, "Slave, report."

	Master was smiling, got up, and hugged Sir, saying, " You did it!
I'm so happy for you. Now tell me, what finally made you decide?"

	Collin was now naked and kneeling in front of his Master. Sir told
Master, "Brian it was seeing you the other day when I realized I deserved
the promotion to Master."

 "Me?  Whatever I did for this to happen, I'll gladly take the credit for
it."

	Sir said, "When you were at the ranch and came back to fuck Randy,
I realized how much I wanted to do the same thing. Eric, who owns the gym
where I workout, has wanted me to fuck him for five years now. As a Master,
I can now do this, and I did the night before last. It was great getting
having a fresh piece of ass to fuck. Scumbag there was tied up and gagged
in the corner watching."

	Master then looked at slave Collin's arms and saw soMMW tattooed on
each of his arms. He asked Sir, "What's the soMMW on your property's arms?"

	"That's right, you've never seen my boy totally naked before. Five
years ago we went to a tattoo parlor downtown and did this. Originally it
stood for submissive of Mr. Marty Wilson. Now it stands for slave of Master
Marty Wilson."

	"Oh, Marty, that's great." And, you're being frugal too; being able
to use the same initials." Both men laughed at Master's comment.

" In a few weeks when I'm in San Francisco, my slave will accompany me.
MASTER BRIAN'S SLAVE will be tattooed on his crotch." Master then snapped
his fingers, and I came from behind the bar to meet him. " Here's the
totally hairless body Slaveboy is now required to have in the fall and
winter months. I'll probably keep it as a daily requirement because I like
not seeing any body hair on him."

"Brian, your hairless slave is so awesome, and I love the idea of a
tattooed crotch. A slave's crotch is wasted body space anyway, so why not
decorate it?"

"Marty, you've got me thinking about adding tattoos with soMBC on his
arms."

" I agree with you that we should have should have signed our contract
years ago. I can't have regrets, but I do think of the time wasted playing
husbands."

	"I'm the same way. When this thing kneeling here started sucking my
toes twenty years ago, I realized then how much I wanted to totally
dominate him. I could kick myself in the ass for not enslaving him then."

"Beg to differ, Brian. It's more fun to kick a slave up the ass."

	"So true, fellow Master. Try doing it with pointed boots; it hurts
a little more."

"Not that you know from personal experience, right Brian?" Both Masters
were laughing, and Sir said he would try it tonight at home."

	"So Marty, what are the papers you want me to look at and sign?"

"It's the legal contracts similar to the one Douchebag signed for you when
you and your human property moved here. Basically all assets are turned
over to me, and he gives up all rights to possessions: house, cars, real
estate, investments, financial portfolios, anything monetary."

	"It's my pleasure to do this."

"Thanks Brian, my latest property acquisition knows that if he gets tired
of being my slave, he has the right to leave, but only with the clothes on
his back. Everything is now my property, including old Douchebag himself."

"I admit I do like that wording of yours: property acquisition."

	With that said, Master then signed the legal papers and said he'd
give them to Francine, his secretary, in the morning to process.

Sir then thanked Master and said they couldn't stay much longer. He said
his slave had been eating tuna fish twice a day, and it was almost his
dinnertime. Master asked Sir when his slave suddenly developed a liking to
tuna fish, since he hates fish.

	"He does hate it, but has no choice; it's either eat that or go
hungry. Now he devours it since it's made with two of his favorite
seasonings."

	"Slave Collin eating fish; what do you season it with?"

	"I'll tell you, in fact, I'll give you the recipe."

"Well I hate to admit I agree with a slave, but I'm not a fan of tuna fish
either. What' seasonings do you use?"

"Its seasonings are good enough for a slave and easy to make too. All
Masters should serve it to their slaves. Open the can, drain the juice, add
the tuna to a bowl, season it with your piss and cum. Serve it to a slave."

Master laughed so hard that he nearly spilled his wine. Sir then said that
as much as he was enjoying being with another superior male, they had to go
home. Sir said that slave Collin is in training, and he was going to
administer an enema, put a butt plug up his ass, and make him wait an hour
before he was allowed to use the slave bathroom.

	Sir then said, Brian, you've given me another great idea to
humiliate my slave."

	"Please share. I'm always interested in trying new things with my
human property."

"I'll put on my boots and give this worthless slave here a dozen or so
swift kicks up the ass after giving him the enema."

	"Marty, you're being cruel. I love the idea and will try it soon."

"If he can't hold it, I'll give him permission to use the slave bathroom in
the basement. Of course he'll pay for it, and I plan to collect the payment
in full. He'll also spend more time in his dog kennel." Both Masters
laughed.

The two Masters hugged and kissed good night and said they'd see each other
in the office in the morning.

	"Slaveboy, clean the kitchen and living room and report to me in my
office."

	Master was sitting on the leather sofa when I walked in and kneeled
at his feet.  "I've been needing to piss since we got home; open your
mouth." Master stood up, unzipped his pants and put his dick in my
mouth. Immediately his piss was going down my throat.

	He said, "Slaveboy," and then the house phone rang. Looking at the
caller ID he said, "That's Dad; I better take that or he'll keep calling."

 His dad called to see if we made it home safely. They spoke for only for a
few minutes. Master stood up and motioned for me to undress him. Instead of
the navy silk briefs I put on him when I was dressed him in the morning, he
was now wearing his black and red bikini swimsuit that he wears when he is
feeling really dominant. I now knew bedtime would be delayed a
little. Master told his dad we would go back to the ranch in a few weeks.

It was obvious Master was trying to end the conversation. "Yes Dad, we both
had a good time being home, and I'm about to have some more fun. I love you
too." Master then gave me the phone to put back in its recharger.

 "Slave, this is my will, which you know about. In the event of my death,
you are to inherit 2/3 of everything you and I have accumulated, and my son
from that one-year disastrous heterosexual marriage experience will get the
other 1/3. All assets have been in my name ever since your slave life
began."

	"Yes Master, are our wills still in the top desk drawer?"

	"Yes they are. But tonight, Master Marty and I were talking."

	"There will be changes to four wills tomorrow. You will still
inherit from our estate, but it will be administered to you through Master
Marty. When I die, you will become Master Marty's slave, so you will
spending the rest of your life as another man's slave: mine or Master
Marty's. He will do the same thing, and slave Collin will become my
property."

	Master told me that for this to be successful, he and Master Marty
would switch slaves for a few days so each slave could get used to a
different Master's slave expectations before the sad and inevitable events
would come true. He said of course, it will have to be done in a few
months, once slave Collin's slave training is complete. Master told me that
during that exchange period, I was to comply with Master Marty's rules,
participate in his fun time, and for that short period only, accept Master
Marty as my temporary Master. He warned me that if he'd get a bad report,
the old dog kennel in the basement he used to train me during my slave
training would be my new sleeping quarters for a month.

	"I understand and thank you Master; thank you for planning my
future."

	"You're welcome, Slave. I'll always love you, will provide for you,
and even though you are now totally inferior to me, I will take care of
you."

	I began to cry knowing that Master still cared enough about me to
provide for me like this. Master looked at me and the tears came even
faster.

"Now slave, dry those eyes." Master motioned for me to come up, and I
started to stand. He then said, "No, don't stand up, remain kneeling, just
come up a little so I don't have to bend down as much."

	In an almost squat like position, Master then bent down, petted my
head, and kissed my forehead. His beard felt so nice as my hand briefly
touched Master's face during his kiss. Again I started to cry.

	"Master, may I speak? He gave me permission to speak, telling me I
had thirty seconds to do so.  He was petting our dogs, who were now on the
couch with him.

	"Thank you, Master, I just wanted to say how your beard has grown
in nicely and how it makes you even more handsome and even sexier."

	"That's nice, slave; take your tie off." Master then put my collar
around my neck, locked it in place and attached the leash."

	I was led me to his bedroom, told me to get naked, and to meet him
in the guest bedroom. When I entered the bedroom, he was standing in the
middle of the room, and I noticed that there was a narrow table just like
the one in the bunkhouse. Hooks similar to the ones used in the bunkhouse
would now hide pictures when Master wasn't using them. Toys once calling
his bag of toys home, were out of the bag and set in place on the bed. The
lasso ropes, horse riding crop, handcuffs, and Mr. Paddle were at the edge
of the bed.

 Master was standing in the middle of the room with a new paddle tapping it
lightly in the palms of his hands, which meant that it would be going from
a new paddle to a used paddle very soon. After five years of servitude to
Master Brian James Carter, I now have a general idea of when he plans to
have his fun with me.

"Come in slave. Welcome to my new playroom." The other day when I came here
to fuck Randy, the idea came to me to turn this second guest bedroom, which
we will hardly ever use into a mini torture chamber. I hope you like it."
Rubbing the new paddle across my face and then down to my dick, where he
gently hit my balls, then said, "I know I'll like it."

"Yes Master, it looks really nice."

Sarcastically Master said, "Glad you like it; I treasure my inferior
scumbag slave's approval." He then slapped my face really hard, and put two
clothespins on my pecs, pulling on them so hard, I began to fall. I was
told of expenses incurred in setting up the bunkhouse and this room. "Don't
worry, Slaveboy, you'll be paying for these expenses and its frequent
updating. A lifetime payment plan in your name has already been set up for
you. You'll be able to make your first payment tonight."

 He bent me over, told me to grab my ankles, and gave each cheek of my ass
twenty whacks. Then he told me to hop onto the narrow table and get
ready. Master was laying out his sex toys in the order he wanted to use
them. Staring down directly into my eyes, he smiled and said, "Let the
games begin."

 Master told me to put my hands behind my head, and he attached snapped the
handcuffs in place. He then used a long leather strap, put the handcuffs in
the middle of them, and pulling up a ring on the strap, secured the
handcuffs to one of the hooks on the wall. He used two lasso ropes to
secure my legs in place. Opening my mouth, he put in a new rubbery ball
gag, fastened it and then put duct tape around it.  He reached under the
table and grabbed two leather straps attached to the underneath of the
table. He used one to tie my legs secure, and the other was used across my
chest. I was not going anywhere. Everything was tied so tightly, I could
barely move. He then attached a set of tit clamps and tightened them as
well. Opening the bag of clothespins, he placed them throughout my body,
pulling on each one after setting it in place.  Finally, he took a butt
plug and rammed it in my ass.

Master then grabbed a permanent marker and started writing on my crotch. A
few minutes later, he finished and said, "Oh that looks great; I like
this. In fact, I love it." He then wrote something on the tops of my arms
about an inch down from my shoulders.  He held a mirror for me to see
it. Written in capital letters on the left side, he wrote, MASTER BRIAN
CARTER'S SLAVE. On the right side, he drew a male figure carrying a ball
and chain attached to his leg. On my arms he wrote soMBC, which stood for
slave of Master Brian Carter. Admiring his artwork he said, "I hope the
real thing looks even better."

"Slave, we're about to pay another new game. It's called Time Torture, or
TT for short. In the basket are the numbers 5-30. You will draw a slip of
paper from the basket for each activity. That number will correspond to the
time, your Master spends on that activity torturing you. Also, if a number
is drawn and your Master wishes to spend more time on the activity, it is
up to the discretion of the Master whether or not he will honor the chosen
time.  I hope you'll like our new game; I know I will."

Master then walked to the bed and picked up the horse- riding crop and said
the first part of TT would be on my feet. He turned around, held up the
basket of numbers, and pretended to look surprised, "Tell me slave, how
will you pick a number all tied up?  Hoping this would grant me some mercy,
I played along and started mumbling."

Master loving the humiliation he was giving me said, "You'll have to speak
clearer, I can't understand you." Again, I mumbled to my Master, please
show me some mercy.

" Let me repeat the question so even an inferior like you can
understand. Once again, tell me how you plan to pick a number to continue
our game. I'm getting impatient here trying to understand an ignorant, scum
of the earth, lowlife slave's made up language." Again I mumbled, please
have mercy on me, Master.

Master then said, "I have an idea. Why don't I draw the numbers for our
little game? Are you okay with that, Slave?"

I nodded, and Master patting me on the head like he does the dogs said,
"Good slave." He then reached in the basket and pulled out the number
5. Master said, "That is not nearly enough time; I'll double it." He then
set an egg timer and started paddling my feet. He used the paddle, his
belt, his hands, and his flip-flops. Each paddle seemed to hurt more and
more since the redness in my feet from yesterday's paddling had not yet
gone away. The egg timer went off and Master took a few more whacks before
stopping.

He then pulled out the number 8 for tit torture. Removing the tit clamps,
he squeezed my pecs, paddled them with a ruler, and put clothespins on them
as he pulled up and down on the clothespins. He took two brand new binder
clips, which were so tight and sealed them on my pecs, pushing down on them
to increase the pain. He then reached down and bit my pecs and used his
teeth to also pull on them. The timer went off, and Master said, "I was
really enjoying myself.

He grabbed my nipples and gave them several more hard squeezes. " I choose
to extend the time." He said he would give two minutes more time for each
torture device and listed them: tit clamps, clothespins, binder clips,
ruler, teeth bites and pulling, finger squeezing, slapping. Master then
said, "I count seven. In slave math 7x2=20, so twenty more minutes." Master
looked at me and said, "Relax slave," and he started rubbing his pecs and
beautiful hairy chest. "Your inferior body will never have as
well-developed pecs as these." He set the timer, and each second got
rougher and rougher. At times when I'd squirm because a twist or pull of my
pecs was so painful, Master had a hard-on. The timer went off, and Master
decided he would stop. "That was fun, wasn't it Slaveboy?

Again playing along with Master's game in the hope of some mercy, I
mumbled, "Yes it was Master; I'm glad you had your fun."

	Master, continuing his humiliation of me said, "Slaveboy, since we
have a communication breakdown, maybe you could draw me a picture to
explain yourself." Master's cell phone rang but he missed the call. Seeing
it was Greg who called, Master said he needed to return the call and would
be right back. Walking towards the door, he looked at me, "Why don't you
just stay here and wait for me?" I heard him laughing as he walked out of
the room.

A few minutes later Master walked back into his new playroom and said, "Oh,
I see you're still here." He tugged on everything to see if it was still
secure and then tightened the lasso ropes around my legs. He then reached
down the table and pulled out another leather restraint and fastened it
around my stomach. Looking at me he then told me, "I was hoping while I was
gone you would have drawn some pictures so we could communicate better?" He
laughed at his comment, readjusted some of the clothespins, pulled on them,
and then said, "I wish I could keep you like this 24/7/365."

Master them said, "It's time for one of my favorite games, Cock and Ball
Torture."  He then reached in the basket and pulled out the number
30. "Yes, yes, yes, my lucky day; let the fun continue." He then looked at
me and said, "In slave math, does 30 mean 45 minutes?  Well, it won't be my
balls that will be sore."

 He reached down and with his hands squeezed the shaft of my cock. He then
started jacking me off, and said, "Slave, if you jack off in a Master's
hands, I'll have your sorry ass balls hurting until next Christmas. You do
not have permission to cum until your scheduled cum date. Master was
pumping me good and hard, and I was fighting back wanting to cum; although,
I could have easily. I was on the brink of cumming, but Master stopped
pumping my dick. Master then said, "Luckily I can cum whenever I want to,
several times a day if I want to." He then put my balls in a cock and ball
stretcher. Proud of his new toy he said, "That's good, let's tighten her up
one more notch."

He then walked to the bed and got Mr. Paddle. Waving the paddle in front of
my dick, Master said, "Mr. Paddle is saying, 'I'm back'." He then rubbed it
all along my dick for a minute or so. Then holding the shaft of my dick,
Mr. Paddle gave it two soft whacks. Master then took the paddle and began
very softly hitting my balls. He then started hitting my balls harder and
harder, and the pain although severe didn't seem to hurt me as much. After
a few minutes, Master put the paddle away and using his hands squeezed my
balls so hard, the ball gag muffled my cry for help.

Reaching for Mr. Paddle, he then began hitting my balls once again. The
tightness from the ball stretcher caused each whack by Mr. Paddle to bring
a new level of hurt. Master then took my bound hand, and using our code, I
gave him a slightly firm squeeze. This new activity of tying up my balls, I
know is something Master probably had planned in his list of CBT
activities. Master said he would let me have a break to relax since the
next session will be more painful.  I hope I can accept its pain because I
know this will please my Master..

Master was looking in a full- length mirror he had installed behind the
bedroom door during my rest from CBT. He was again rubbing his beautiful
chest, and stroking his beard. He is so proud of his beard. He started
rubbing his dick and said, "Greg, I hope you're sucking this tomorrow
night." Master then came back to the table and said it was time to
resume. He had stopped the clock and said there were still eight minutes
left. He then grabbed my balls, still secure in the ball stretcher, and
started hitting them with his hands. The first whack hit them just right,
and I let out a loud, muffled scream. He then grabbed a ruler and started
hitting again. He once again used his hands and squeezed my dick with all
his strength. For the last few minutes, he told me to lift my butt up, and
he whacked the underneath of my balls, again starting off lightly, and by
the time the egg timer rang, I was about ready to cry from the pain.

Master took the riding crop and slapped my legs and stomach, and I tried to
relax and enjoy this new spanking, but it was so hard and hurt so much. I
wondered if fun time was going to ever wind down, or if Master really did
find a way to keep me here 24/7/365. It didn't look like he was going to
take a break anytime soon. He removed some of the clothespins and
repositioned them in other places. With each removal, he pulled on them
harder and harder. He took the tit clamps off my pecs and bit on them; with
each bite he would pull on them higher and higher. He then put the tit
clamps on and secured them as tightly as he could make them.

He then said, "I'm in the mood to still play with your pathetic slave
body. Pick another number, Slaveboy." He then chuckled and said, "I forgot
about our communications problems we're experiencing today. Is it still
okay if your Master picks a number?"

I again in my muffled voice said, "Master, please, mercy."

Master said, "Slave, we've reached the Lightning Round point in our game;
all numbers may be doubled or tripled according to the Master's
discretion. Good luck!"

Master picked the number 6. He then said, "Your Master will double the
number picked. So, using slave math once again, 6X2=21; that's a little
more time for a Master to abuse his slave's body. He then set the timer.

For twenty-one minutes, he slapped my balls, slapped my crotch, took the
separator off and squeezed my balls, paddled them with Mr. Paddle. He
pulled on my pecs with the tit clamps, pulled up and down on clothespins,
and used his fingers in between to pinch my body with his full force.
There was no break between activities. He then removed the balls separator,
took some light rope and tied my balls up, attached the rope to a hook on a
leather strap and attached the leather strap to a hook under the table. He
pulled on the leather strap repeatedly.

With my balls tied up and the intense pain this new activity brought, I was
squirming trying to get in a position where the pain might not hurt as
badly. There was none.

I soon stopped squirming because the more I moved, the harder Master
pulled, tugged, or hit. Finally I laid there hoping to accept this new pain
level that brought my Master such pleasure. Master then got Mr. Paddle and
paddled my balls only once until the timer went off.

"That was fun wasn't it, Slave? You won the lightning round,
congratulations! You now get to go on to the next level: Master's Choice.
Do you want to go on to the next level? Why am I even asking; you're not
communicating effectively today"

He then removed the ball gag and duct tape from my mouth. Getting on top of
the table, he them sat on my face and lowering his buns, I opened my mouth
to receive them. I kissed his cheeks as he presented them to me and began
licking his hole as he lowered and opened it to my willing mouth and
tongue. At times, he would bounce up and down, so I could go inside his
butt with my tongue. A few minutes later, he inserted his dick in my mouth,
and soon his cum was going down my throat. He then said, "Boy, I'm getting
tired, so I'll fuck you in the morning." He then untied me completely, and
after almost three hours, I was off of the narrow table.

Now standing and waiting for the blood to go down to my feet, he looked at
his art- work on my crotch and arms and said, "It will be exciting to see
the real thing."

Master told me to kneel and rammed his dick down my throat to give me his
bedtime piss. "Slave, this torture room is off limits to you unless you are
in here with me when I'm having fun." He then led held my leash as I
crawled to his bedroom with pain throbbing from every inch of my body.

In Master's bedroom, I pulled back the comforter and sheets of his bed and
fluffed his pillows. After brushing his teeth, a naked Master walked
towards the bed, and I put a pair of navy blue silk underwear on his
perfect body. Master got into his bed, and I prepared my slave bed. He was
excited when he received a text from Greg, who said he would be able to
spend tomorrow night with Master.

Settling in for the night, Master said, " Slave, add an enema to tomorrow's
shopping list, and make sure my cowboy boots are shined. Good night."

"Good night Master."