Date: Sun, 27 Mar 2005 14:31:03 +0100 (BST)
From: WILL OBE <will.obe@btinternet.com>
Subject: OBEYING NATURE 12

Sunday is a very hot day and Mark decides we should go at lunchtime to the
leather bar for drinks. In spite of the heat, he wears his full leather
gear and he tells me to wear the cut off jeans Nikki made for me and the
very short sleeveless shirt. The cut-offs are brief. I know from looking in
the mirror that a third of my bright red spanked cheeks can be clearly
seen. He wants people to know I'm his naughty boy who, if I'm not obedient,
receives a spanking. Walking along the street is exquisite humiliation. In
the pub even more so. These guys know from my collar I'm not simply a
naughty boy, I'm a slave. My Master buys two pints of beer and hands one to
me.

"Go and stand near the wall. Make out you're available if anyone shows
interest. There's a guy over here I want to speak to."

I lose sight of Mark as he walks to the back of the bar. As instructed I go
and stand against the wall under the windows. Someone, on a previous visit,
had told me it was known as the meat rack because this is where the subs
wait if they're un-escorted. It's still early so I'm on my own. I sip my
beer. A guy in tight jeans gives me the eye. I turn so he can see the key
chain hanging from my right hand pocket. He grins and walks away and I
notice his own key ring is on the right. Another guy, about my own age and
build wearing jeans and a leather jacket, saunters over and stands in front
of me.

He said, "I see your key ring indicates you obey orders. Do you?"

"Yes", I mumble.

"Yes what boy?"

"Sir. Yes sir." My prick stiffens.

He takes hold of my collar and checks the name. "Has Master Mark given you
permission to parade yourself here?"

"His orders sir."

"Right. Drop 'em."

Wow! He expects me to do it here in the pub surrounded by a crowd. Do I
have a choice? He's my age, but he's a Master. I unbutton my cut-offs and
let them drop to the floor.

"Excellent." He looks down at my hard-on. So do the others watching. He
holds my prick and pushes back the foreskin.

"Turn around."

Slowly I turn. Now he and the others can see my red punished bottom. He
rubs and kneads my cheeks. Then moves in so close I can feel his rough
jeans against my backside. He probes my anal passage with a finger and then
steps back so the others can see me being finger fucked.

"Turn round."

Now he presents the finger to my mouth. I suck it for all to see. He
removes the finger.

"You're an obedient slave. Pity I'm not into blondes. Pull your pants up."

He walks away. I stoop down, red faced, and pull up my cut-offs. Being
stripped in public no matter how frequent is still humiliating. And knowing
all these guys now watching me know they only have to issue the order and
I'll do it again only excites me to want it to happen.

"Good boy." Thank goodness! My Master's voice.

He stands at my side with a much older man dressed rather incongruously in
a pin stripe suit with shirt and tie.

"This is my slave. What do you think Charles?"

"Needs his hair cutting. Nice body. How about his teeth?"

Without being ordered to, I bare my teeth in a grin.

"Not bad. Hate poor teeth in a boy. Have you finished training him?"

"Someway to go yet. Thought you might lend a hand."

"Could do. Long weekend sound okay? S, N and K. That do?"

"Sounds ideal. You're more into those sort of things than I am."

"As it happens that's why I'm here checking on a few boys. I'll need to
check him out too. How about he comes back with me for lunch?"

"Fine. I'll pick him up later."

Mark slaps my arse playfully and leaves. I'm left with Charles wondering
what all the chat has been about.

"Finish your beer, go and have a pee and be quick about it."

I drain my glass and go to the loo. The guys on either side of me feel up
my bottom as I urinate. I quickly shake my prick before anything develops
and rush back to Charles.

"Follow me and keep your distance."

 Presuming he doesn't want anyone to think this guy, dressed like a rent
boy, is with him, I keep well back. Passers-by probably think he's
returning from Sunday worship. Expecting to be taken to his home I'm rather
surprised when he enters a small hotel and wags his finger for me to
follow. A small rainbow flag discreetly displayed on the glass panel of the
hotel door is a welcome sign. Two young guys in summer clothes both wink at
me as they leave. Charles collects his key from a smiling Asian guy at the
reception desk. I follow him up the stairs to the first floor. He has a
spacious and comfortably furnished room with a double bed.

"Take your clothes off young man and let me have a look at you."

He stands watching as I take off my shirt, cut-offs and boots. His hands
glide over my shoulders, down to my bottom and down between my thighs. Then
the front of my shoulders, neck, armpits, squeezes my nipples, checks the
smoothness of my groin, weighs my balls and grips my rock hard prick. He
pushes back the foreskin and squats down to take a close look at my piss
slit.

"Turn round, bend over, feet wide and spread your cheeks."

I pull my arse cheeks apart. He gently presses my hole with his finger and
then inserts it. I clench my muscles to grip it tight as he pushes in and
out. He stands up and goes to wash his hands in the bathroom.

"Good. Everything appears satisfactory. Perhaps I should tell you Ian, I'm
a doctor. I like my pupils to be fit."

Charles takes a leash from a drawer, fastens it to my collar and leads me
to the door.

"This is a test of your obedience boy."

Naked, I'm led back down the stairs. The Receptionist grins as he sees me
being taken into the restaurant. It's a traditional hotel restaurant with
about twenty tables. Several are occupied. All young guys having lunch. All
fully dressed. All turning and looking at me. Charles takes me to a table
with one chair and sits down. I stand at his side, my prick growing to
attention. Being on show does this to me.

"Kneel. Knees apart."

I kneel down, my prick still jutting upwards. A young Asian waiter arrives
with a menu and, accidentally or on purpose, manages to places one of his
shoes up against my hanging testicles.

"We'll both have soup and I'll have the roast", said Charles.

The waiter wiggles his shoe under my balls before going off. Charles tugs
on my leash.

"Stand up and follow me."

I'm led slowly around the dining room. One guy holds out his hand and
Charles stops so the guy can handle my smooth scrotum and prick. He stops a
number of times to allow other guys to do the same or pat my bottom or feel
me up generally. This must be part of his obedience test. By the time we
return to our table the soup has arrived. One bowl on the table, one on the
floor. Charles sits down and uses a spoon to eat his soap. I kneel.

"Hands behind you boy."

I lower my head, blow on the hot soup and begin to lap it up. Charles
breaks up a bread roll and drops it on the floor. I pick up the pieces with
my teeth and swallow them. The waiter takes away our plates and returns
with the main course. No plate for me. Charles lowers a hand to my face
containing some roast potato. I lick it up. Other guys, observing this,
click their fingers and I go around the tables on hands and knees eating
from various hands. They also ruffle my hair, pat my behind or, in one
case, make me sit up and beg for a morsel he then drops into my open
mouth. Much laughter at my expense, but unknown to them by suffering these
humiliations, I'm inwardly loving it all. When the waiter comes to take
away the main course plate I hear Charles making a request.

"Can you ask the Receptionist if he'd be so kind as to bring me the cane?"

Now what? If it's for me, I haven't done anything to deserve a
caning. Another obedient test? Probably. The handsome young, smiling
Receptionist arrives with the cane.

"Stand up and bend over boy. Feet well apart."

By this time the other guests and waiters and even a cook are gathering
around to watch.

"Give him ten." Charles is ordering someone.

It's the Receptionist. Between my legs, beyond my hanging balls I can see
him raising the cane. It descends with a swish and stings my already red
behind. I jump up, hopping around with hands to my bottom. Not caring what
my grinning audience thinks about an adult man behaving like a schoolboy.

"Back in position and stay still or you'll get double."

I bend over and grit my teeth. Determined to pass this test of my
obedience. Another thwack and another thwack. I move forward, but steady
myself. He aims the next three lower down my thighs. I now scream out with
each cut of the cane. Another and the tears start. After the tenth I
crumple down, sobbing. My guess is that most of these guys haven't seen an
adult caned before or the embarrassment of seeing one crying.

"Now go and stand in the corner boy." Charles orders.

The Receptionist helps me up and into a corner of the room. He gently wipes
the tears from my eyes with his fingers and helps me to place my hands on
my head. He kisses my cheek before going back to reception. I've no idea
what's going on behind me except I assume some of the guys are watching me
in the naughty boy position, my red bottom marked with the cane. Several
come and feel my bottom or hug me as they leave. Eventually it's silent
except for the sound of the waiter clearing tables. I feel his hand on my
prick as he starts to wank me. I stand passively, hands on head, and let
him do it. Sometime later I hear My Master and Charles talking.

"I've been in touch to arrange for the candidates you suggested", said
Charles.

"Brilliant" says Mark.

"See you on Friday then", said Charles. I hear his footsteps as he leaves.

"Hope you have some leave due boy."

"Yes Master."

"First thing tomorrow at the office arrange to take next Friday and Monday
off."

"Yes Master."

Mark takes hold of my leash and leads me out to reception. My head is
bowed, but I realise a number of other guys pass by and must be watching
me. Mark unfastens the leash and hands it to the Receptionist.

"Let Master Charles have this will you?"

"Of course sir. May I say how much I enjoyed caning your slave?"

"You did a good job Cliff. Perhaps again sometime."

"I hope so sir."

Cliff hands me my clothes. I dress and we leave.


Will Obe (c) Copyright.

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