Date: Mon, 25 Apr 2016 20:27:17 -0700
From: Rob Z <haverimseat4you@gmail.com>
Subject: inferior nothing - 3

inferior nothing
By: Rob Y
haverimseat4you@gmail.com
http://www.sgttate.com

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After My Lord tore up my hole, dumping his seed in me to claim me, I
continued to jerk off thinking about him.  The smells from his stinky gym
clothes and dried piss are starting to become impossible to ignore.  I am
so turned on to it.  Coming in from work, I get a hard on just walking in
the door.

He has been texting me pics of him, requiring me to jerk off to those
images.  I have been writing to him telling him how he is the hottest man I
have ever had sex with.  While that is true, I am also relieved to have
someone who wants me.  Even considering the fact that he wants to treat me
as nothing, the fact that he's sending me text selfie gym mirror pics as
well as pics of his cock, his nipples, his pits, or his feet on a regular
basis tells me that he's interested in me.

I still jerk off to him, and now I am starting to understand why.  He's
mandating what I am fantasizing to; I am starting to see him not only as a
sex god, but a god to me.  And that feels like it is something completely
natural to me.

I have stopped shaving my crotch area as a result of a command of his, and
I can start to see stubble developing.  It itches like hell.  He probably
likes that fact.

After three full days where he doesn't visit, I get a 6AM text: "Give
yourself a deep cleaning."  That is all.  On and off, for two hours, I make
sure that I am squeaky clean.  At around 8:20 he texts again: "When I walk
in, the only thing I want to see of you is that cunt."

He must be leaving the gym.  I look around my place; it is a mess, mostly
due to his gym clothes, the rim seat, and his piss all over.  I ignore what
he would probably want to remain in place.

After leaving my front door ajar, I get on my hands and knees facing away
from the door.  A lean forward allows me to rest my head on the floor
turned to the left a little.  This frees up my hands to reach behind me and
spread my cheeks.

I wait.  For what seems like an eternity, I wait.  My door opens.

"Now that is a cunt."

He firmly, but not forcefully kicks my cock and balls.

"Stay there cunt."

I can tell he's putting his bags down.  With my head cocked to the left, I
cannot see what he is doing behind me to the right.  What surprises me that
there is a large thud like sound coming from where the rimseat would be.  A
zipper is unzipped followed by clanking of buckles.

A black spandex object--about the size of a plate--lands in front of me.

"Put that on."

After releasing my ass cheeks I go back to being on hands and knees.  Now
it is becoming clearer what the spandex object is--a hood.  But it only has
two holes: on for my neck and a much smaller one for my mouth.  Nothing for
my eyes, nose, or ears.

"Don't study it.  Put the fucker on."

"Yes My Lord."

I pick it up.  At the same time, I can feel him kneeling behind me.  The
hood goes on, but I struggle to get the mouth hole lined up .

"I want that hood on every time I come over.  I don't need to look at your
ugly face."

"Yes, My Lord."

When I stop adjusting the hood, he applies pressure to my back, indicating
that I resume my ass up pose.

"You should still be able to see a little through the fabric--not much, but
enough to see where you are and more importantly where I am."

I feel something at my cunt hole.  It is not soft like a cock; rather, it
feels plastic.  He spits on it and on the cunt.  A quick two swipes of spit
is all he gives me before he shoves it in my hole.  I gasp.

"Just accept it."

It's not as big as his cock, and it doesn't go in as deep, maybe five or
six inches.  I leather strap wedges into my crack.  This invader is
attached to it.  There is no tapering at the base, like a butt plug.
Rather it keeps my hole spread open about an inch or so.

"Stand up."

Struggling to get up is difficult; having limited sight is awkward.  Throw
into the mix that his hand is firmly on the dildo's base as I rise.  The
spandex doesn't block everything out; I still can see shapes in the room.
I definitely can make out this behemoth of a kneeling man in front of me.

Waist straps attached to the dildo strap in my crack ride low on my hips.
He buckles it together like a belt.  Straps are pulled up between my legs
and then wrap around my cock and balls.  It's strange that there's no cock
ring, but just those two straps going up to the belt.  It feels
comfortable, except my cunt painfully cannot close.

He fidgets with the ends.  I don't even know what this looks like let alone
how it all buckles up.  I hear a click.  It wasn't a snap or a clank up a
buckle.  Running fingers along the inside of each of the strap.  There is
give and flexibility, but not much.

"OK cunt, this is what is happening.  That cunt needs some stretching.  It
was really choking my cock the other day--a bit too much for my pleasure.
That dildo is locked in place for the next day or two.  Only I have the
key.  It's not coming of for at least a day or two, when I come back.  It
is designed to be worn under clothing.  When you go to work this evening
you will just have to adapt."

I can see him stand.  He smacks me.  Wearing the hood only minimally
lessens the sting of the skin to skin slap, but it still maintains the
weight of his striking hand.

"I deserve that as I am an inferior nothing."

"That you are.  Now get on your knees."

I drop down.  I can see his hefty cock hanging over the waistband of his
gym shorts.

"Now it's time for me to rape your throat."  He pulls my head forward.  I
open my mouth just in time to receive his semi-hard shaft.  It finds its
way down my throat.  "That feels good."  Grinding his crotch onto my face,
I cannot feel his skin or hair because of the hood.  But, I feel every
square inch of his cock as it rides my tongue, and I can definitely taste
sweat.

Both of his massive hands hold my head as he begins to skull fuck me.  His
dick gets firmer and more rigid.  It is very difficult to breathe.  His
hands holding my head prohibits me from pulling off to get a good deep
breath.  I struggle, and he fights back--usually with a chuckle.  Before
passing out, my instinctual defensive mechanism jerks my head to the side,
causing his dick to fall out.

"Take a quick breath and get right back to throating me."  He smacks me
hard.

I inhale, and his dick is right back to battling my throat before I can
give my response.  I didn't think it was possible, but I am taking his full
dick.  I think it probably has something to do with his pre-cum lubing up
my throat.

I would normally do number of blow job techniques to get him off quickly,
but he's in total control and I am struggling with getting enough oxygen.

"Reach up and play with my tits."

My hands run under his tank top.  They move up over his thick hairy body.
They find his erect nips.  I roll them in my fingers like I did when he
fucked me.

"Yeah cunt.  Fuck yeah."

After a few minutes of struggling to breathe while focussing on pleasing
him with my nipple play, I start to hear him grunt.

"Bitch, get ready.  Your god is going to blow."  I squeezed harder on his
nips, and he pulled my head and held it there.  He shouted out, "FUCK!"

The pulses from his dick meant he was dumping a load directly into my
stomach.  Even though it was challenging, having his load in my stomach
made the all the throat abuse worth it.

He pulls his shaft about two-thirds the way out.  I know he's going to take
a piss.

I am not let down; his piss tastes wonderful.  Weirdly, I'm glad that
dumped his load in my stomach, as the piss would have washed the cum taste
away, and I would have been disappointed.

Pulling out, he commands.  "Take off that hood.  You need to see
something."

It's a lot easier to remove than to put on.  Still upon removal, my eyes
still had to adjust somewhat to the light.  He strips off his sweat soaked
shirt.  After a momentary sniff of the sweat, he throws the shirt towards
me.

"Get over there."

He points towards my dining table.  I see his laptop set up on it.  But
then my eyes see it.

In front is a small piece of furniture--one that I have never seen.  It
looks like a locker room bench, only smaller.  It's about four feet long
about a foot wide and sits about ten to twelve inches high.  On one
end--the one closest to the table--is a rimseat.  The seat, which sits on
an oval wooden platform a little bigger than the seat, is about ten inches
above the bench.  Supporting the elevated toilet seat and secured to the
bench is a series of vertical bars, like jail cell bars.  The rimseat is
designed to have the top face away from the bench and the inferior below.

I walk towards it.  That's when I see some unusual aspects to the seat.
Theres a wooden cross beam where a neck would fit in.  It crosses three
vertical bars.  The middle one goes from the seat platform to the beam; it
does not continue to the platform.  That space under the cross beam is
where my neck would go, but there is no way can my head fit in the space
below it.

In addition, on the two sides there are vertical pieces of wood, about five
inches wide; each is cut horizontally a few inches from the bottom.  There
is a hole cut out in the middle of the horizontal cut, like one would see
with in bondage stocks securing the head and arms but only on a much
smaller scale.  The hole is elliptical--about two inches across and three
inches high.  It is placed near where ears of the inferior asseater would
be.  The top of the wooden half does not go all the way to the platform;
it's about three inches short.  Like the neck cross beam, there is a middle
bar that connects to the platform above.

"I had it custom made for me.  Seeing I need my shithole worshipped for
hours by inferior nothings, I need to be comfortable.  It's high enough to
fit my size, and I can sit on it comfortably and not squatting down.  And
then there's this."

He bends down and grabs the edge of the platform nearest the back end of
the toilet seat.  He pulls it up.  The platform is hinged at the front of
the platform.  When it is lifted up, the three cross beams--at the chin and
the two side top pieces--rise up on their own.  The center bars attached to
each horizontal piece rise up through the support frame.  It is clear that
they are spring based.  When the platform is put down, the chin piece comes
down.

He backhands me.  "Don't just stand there, get under it.  My shithole needs
some cleaning, and your tongue is going to do some serious work."

I straddle the bench.  Leaning back, I realize I am too close to the head
cage.  Readjusting by scooting down the platform, my head is at the
opening.  With the cross bar near the upper frame, my head now has
clearance to slide in.  But, when I do my head hits something soft.  It's a
small pillow for my head to rest on.  Lifting up and moving in, my head
rests on the small pillow--perfect positioning for my head under the seat.

The platform isn't long enough to support my legs.  My feet rest on the
floor.  There is really no place for me to rest my arms, except across my
chest.

He looks down at me.  "What the fuck are you doing?"

I have no idea what he is referring to.  "My Lord?"

He rolls his eyes at me.  Leaning down he grabs my left wrist.

"Make a fist."

I do.  He brings it up to the side of my head.  It rests on the bottom half
of hole on the side crossbeam.  My knuckles of my fist nestles against my
cheek.  It's not firm against it, but it leaves not much wiggle room.  I
move the other one in place.

"Good."

He lowers the toilet seat platform.  They press down the sprinted bars, and
the chin crossbeam lowers with about an inch to spare above my neck.  The
sides come down and restrain my wrists.

"Move around and get to know your new home."

With the lid down, I cannot remove my hands or my head.  My fists at my
cheeks prevent any side movements of my head.  I can't extend my fingers,
as my head is in the way.  I am completely installed under this seat.

He turns and sits down.  With my head on the pillow, my head is perfectly
placed for my tongue to align with his shithole.  I immediately start
licking.  It is sweaty and rank.  With his ass on the seat and the wooden
sides, I have very little light to see anything.

My tongue starts its task of cleaning.

"Now this is how a God gets his ass cleaned."

I hear him typing away on his laptop.  For the next hour or so, I lick his
crack and spit shine his shithole.  If it wasn't for my arms wanting to
move--to stretch--this is quite comfortable.  I even forget that I have a
dildo strapped inside my hole.  I can tell that he likes sitting at chair
hight.  He hasn't shifted around.  His focus is on his work.

I am happy that my tongue can give him some pleasure even though his
attention is elsewhere.  That feels so natural.

He bangs on a couple of keys of his laptop.  Whatever he's working on, he's
now finished.  Getting up, he stretches and burps.

"Damn!  It's like your tongue was made for my shithole."  He slowly jacks
his semi-hard cock.  The view from under the rim seat is spectacular.  He
must sense that I am appreciative of what I see.  He gives a bare hint of a
smirk.

Reaching down, he lifts the rimseat platform.  The chin bar rises, and the
wrist stocks separate.

"Now cunt get up and get dressed.  We are going on a field trip."

Extending sore arms, I can't believe that I was under there for so long.  I
stand.  He has the spandex hood in his hand.  In his other hand is his
cock.  That's when I see it.  He's pissing in the hood.  Excess piss falls
on my dining room floor.

"When we come back, this hood goes on your head.  Every time I come over,
you are to wear this.  You got that?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Good.  Now get dressed.  No underwear."

I race to my room and put on clothes.  This will be the first time I am
clothed in front of him.  I pull up pants over the padlocked dildo harness.
Surprisingly, there's no problem with the leather straps interfering with
my pants.

I come out and he's in his gym clothes.  He holds the piss soaked spandex
hood.  When I approach, he doesn't even command me to open my mouth and
he's shoving it in.

We walk to the door.  "You got your keys?"

I reach into my pocket and pull out my key ring to show him.  He snatches
them away from me before shoving me out the door.  He locks my door and
puts my keys in his pocket.

"Let's go."

We walk into the parking lot and towards the only car I do not recognize--a
Dodge Charger.  Getting in, his massive size fills the driver's seat.  It
is impeccably clean.

"Normally, you would be hooded, naked, and in the trunk.  But we are only
going down the road."  He backhands me hard.

"I deserve that as I am an inferior nothing."

"Keep your head down and arms behind your back."

I stare down.  We drive for about five minutes before pulls into a Home
Depot.

"I want to see you walk.  That pole in your cunt is attached to a strap
that allows movement.  I need to see if you walk normally or if you walk
like a faggot with a pole strapped in its twat."

He yanks the piss soaked hood out of my mouth.  We get out.  I walk behind
him into the store.

"Go walk to the end there, and then come back."

I start walking past many of the aisles.  The dildo is definitely making
its presence known, at least to me.  I continue to walk.  No one seems to
notice me, let alone care that I might be walking funny.

I reach the end.  Turning, I start walking back to him--his immense size is
impossible to ignore.  He's not even watching me.  His attention is with
another man as they look at something that is part of an aisle.

He never once looks at me until I am twenty feet away, and it's only a
glance.  Damn, he's fucking hotter than hell.

The worker hands him a key.  He takes out his keyring from a pocket in his
gym shorts.  He puts the key on his ring.

The worker adds, "And here's the original" as he hands over my keys.  He
made a copy of my apartment key!  I can't even look at this.  This is
wrong.

"C'mon let's go."  Now, I am handed my own keys.  We start to walk out.  "I
need to pay.  Go out and walk around to the left side of the building.
I'll be there in a few moments."

I follow his instructions.  While walking all I can think about is that he
copied my key, and he wasn't even trying to hide it.  I let him do it!  I
handed over my keys to him.

He pulls around the corner and then comes towards me only to pass by.
After turning around he passes by me a second time, but this time he stops
along side a dumpster.  Getting out, he pops the trunk.  In his hand is the
hood.

"Get in."

I'm about to say something when he stops me with a smack across the face.

"I don't care.  Just get in, Cunt."

Looking around I don't see anyone.  His parking angle really prohibits
anyone from seeing what we are doing.  His trunk is empty, clean, and huge.
Grabbing the back of my head he nudges me forward.

Climbing in is awkward, as I have no idea as to how someone gets into a
trunk.  Effectively, I roll in.  Bending down, he smacks me hard.

"I deserve that as I am an inferior nothing."

"You are actually lower than that."  He throws the hood on my face.  As I
start to put it on, he slams the trunk down.

Fuck it's dark.  The hood is pointless for obscuring my sight.  It does
make me feel inferior though, which is probably his intention.

We drives off, and I roll, slamming against the back of the trunk.  It
seems that his movements are exaggerated, as I am tossed around, despite
not having much room.

He parks the car.  A few seconds later the trunk flies open.

"Just imagine if you had gone with me on a road trip.  Get out."

I start to remove the hood.

"No that stays on until I am gone."

Climbing out is more difficult than going in.  I nearly fall out of the
trunk.  My foot does catch hold of the ground.  My eyes adjust to the
reduced light coming through the weave of the fabric.

I can see the direction of my apartment, and start heading there.  When I
get to the door, he takes his new key out and lets himself in like it's his
place.  I follow him in.

"I have to take a shit.  Come with me."

Oh no.  That's where I draw the line.  I follow him into my bathroom.  He
sits on the toilet.

"Give me head while I shit."

Great.  Thank god.  I was getting worried there.  I drop to my hands and
knees in front of him.  His right hand on the back of my head pulls me
between his legs.  His right hand holds his soft dick.  I take it in my
mouth and start sucking.

He grunts, and I hear the first turd hit the water.  Then I feel piss fill
my mouth.  It is salty.  I focus on drinking it over the smell of his shit.
The flow of the piss is very strong--faster than when I drank it from him
the last time.

His piss slows and eventually stops.

Upon his standing up, I realize that he hasn't wiped his ass.  Oh no.

"Get in the shower.  Leave the hood on."

I get in; he turns on the water.  It is bitter cold.  I yelp.  I then hear
his laughter.

"Tell me when it gets warm."

In the few second before the hot water gets to my shower, he hands me a
washcloth and the bar of soap.  The water starts heating up.

"My Lord."

He climbs in with me.  "Wash me.  Start with my messy shithole."

I lather up the washcloth.  I hesitate moving it to his ass, not because I
don't want to clean him up, but I fear that he will command me to use my
tongue instead of the washcloth.  My soapy clothed covered hand touches his
ass.  But instead of telling to lick, he slightly bends over to give me
better access.

For ten minutes I wash every inch of him with love and care.  It's hard to
see what I am doing through this eyeless hood, but I get the job done.  He
steps out reaching for the towel.

"Finish washing yourself."

He reaches in the shower and turns off the hot water.  The startling of the
cold water hits immediately.  I wash my body.

It's hard to make out, but it looks like he's examining the toilet.  He has
its lid off and he's reaching in the tank.  A moment later he reaches under
it.

"Cunt, I will be back in a day or two.  That dildo remains in the cunt
until I remove it.  If you need to shit, you shit where you are now, in the
shower.  You would need to shit around the dildo.  The shower will help you
get cleaned up afterwards.  If you need to piss, you do that in there too.
You are not to use your crapper for anything--other than to remind you that
you are an inferior nothing.  You are not to flush my shit away.  I have
unhooked the chain connected to lever so you can't accidentally flush it
down.  I have also removed its seat and lit, so you won't sit down.  Also,
you can't cover it up.  It should make your place finally smell like a
seedy rest area.  Wear the hood every morning in anticipation of my next
arrival.  I won't announce myself.  With the dildo in there, cleaning out
will be problematic.  My suggestion is to not eat any solid food for the
next few days.  If you understand say, 'Yes, My Lord.'"

"Yes, My Lord."

"If the door locks are changed or I find that toilet bowl is empty, I will
never return.  You got that cunt?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Now finish up."  He leaves the bathroom.

I finish washing in a couple of minutes.  Drying off I difficult with the
hood on.  With limited vision, I can easily tell that he filled up the
toilet bowl with his turds.

I hear a door close in the other room.  I go out, and see that he is gone.
Taking off the hood, I see that his laptop, garment bag, and the old
rimseat are all gone.  Today's gym clothes are thrown around.  The new
rimseat remains next to my dining table.  Under it is a small puddle of
piss.  None of those things creates the stench from his shit that now
permeates my apartment.

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