Date: Thu, 17 Jul 2014 08:23:38 -0400
From: Doug C <kinkyinga@gmail.com>
Subject: Want A Slave Chapter 5

This story is intended for readers 18 and older. Everyone in this story is
18 or older. This story depicts several risky or dangerous acts. Readers
should remember to always play safe and legal.

I encourage every reader to thank Nifty in the form of a donation. It
doesn't have to be much, but every bit helps. Just think of all the loads
Nifty has helped you shoot. You owe it to them to give back a bit. Repay
the favor at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

********

Want A Slave?
Chapter 5

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NOTE: My email has changed to kinkyinga@gmail.com. Also, if you like this
story, check out my BDSM fantasy blog www.kinkyinga.tumblr.com for more
things like this.

********

With only my phone, wallet and keys I ran toward the open stairwell,
darting my head back and forth hoping no one was outside and would see a
chubby naked man with welts all over his body. Luckily, there didn't seem
to be anyone outside their apartments on Sir's floor, so I made it to the
stairs without being seen.

I paused for a second, realizing then just how fast my heart was now
pounding in my chest, and I strained my ears to hear below. The last thing
I wanted to do was go down a set of stairs only to find people staring at
my exposed body. During that short pause, my mind was racing just as fast
as my heart. I couldn't believe that Sir would throw my clothes over the
balcony for simply putting on my underwear. I know the contract said I
couldn't wear any, but the ink was practically still drying on it. I was
feeling a bit betrayed as I took off again, reaching the ground level
without being spotted.

I looked to the left and saw my clothes had scattered in some shrubs
against the building. I scanned the parking lot, only seeing some guys
playing volleyball in the distance, and I took off again. I practically
dove behind the bush that had my shirt on top of it. I felt the small
branches and leaves scrape against my already abused body as I pushed back
to the apartment's wall.

I hastily scrambled to put my shirt on, desperate for any thread of
clothing I could get. Once my top half was covered, I looked closer and saw
a shoe was within arm's reach. I grabbed it and began slowly lumbering
through the bushes looking for the others clothing.

I found my other shoe, but still couldn't find my shorts. As I was looking
around again, I heard the sound of people approaching. I froze in fear,
unsure of what exactly to do. I was sitting in the bushes wearing only a
t-shirt, holding my shoes and other items in my hand. I decided to squat
down a bit and try to hide behind my current bush of choice. As I was doing
that, five guys walked by laughing and joking around. I held my breath as
they passed, not even wanting to exhale for fear of exposure.

Eventually they turned the corner, and my eyes spotted my blue shorts only
about eight feet away. However, they were on the curb of the sidewalk, so I
would have to leave my sheltered position to grab them. I hesitated for a
minute, taking the time to put my shoes back on, leaving me only
pantsless. I looked around and sprinted to the curb, grabbing the shorts
and running back into the bush. I glanced about, hoping no one saw my
obscene state of dress. I pulled on the shorts, and let out a deep
breath. I stood still for a minute letting my heart rate and breathing
return to normal levels

I put my phone, wallet and keys in my pockets and then pushed down my hair,
trying to look a little less disheveled. Those last however-many minutes of
scrounging around for my clothes had been some of the most terrifying in my
life. I was so relieved that no one, to my knowledge, had seen what had
transpired. With a sense of relief, I headed for my car.

As I got closer to the Honda I noticed something didn't look right. I
couldn't tell from the distance, but it looked like a newspaper or
something was on my side and rear windows. About 15 feet away, I stopped in
my tracks as I saw that words were written all over my windows. On the
passenger side windows in green letters was "Ask me to deep throat." I
jogged over to the car to see what the other windows had. On the rear
bright pink letters screamed "I'm a faggot!" The driver side window had a
cock drawn on it and the words "Will suck dick for free." The window behind
that said "Foot licker."

I stood there at a loss for words when I felt my phone vibrating in my
pocket. As I pulled it out, the screen lit up with a message from a contact
named SIR.

"Do you like your present, fag? Felt your car was kind of plain
before. Don't remove it," the message said.

Now it all made sense. As I was cleaning and Sir was out, he must have come
and added the painted words to my car. And judging by the timing of the
message, he was watching my reaction as I realized what had happened. I
looked up at his balcony, but couldn't' see anything but the table and
chair that were on it. I sent Sir back a text telling him thank you, but I
doubt he thought it sincere gratitude.

Resigned to my new car decor, I unlocked it and headed back home. During
the drive, I got a few honks and strange looks from passing cars, which
only made me blush and cringe inside. There's no way I could leave this
stuff on and take my car to work. I just had to hope Sir was going to let
me remove it before then. If he wasn't, I knew I could invoke the safeword
and tell him it's got to go. But I figured stressing about this was a waste
of energy, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. I had to have some trust
in Sir and his promise to keep my slave life private.

When I got back home, I headed straight for a shower. I felt like I was
covered in grime, sweat and tears in addition to the bruises and marks from
my two punishments. The warm water felt good on my tortured skin, and I
zoned out for a bit before finally getting out and drying off. My phone was
lit up with multiple messages, all from Sir. The first was a link that I
clicked on and opened. There I saw at least 50 or so pictures of me from
the past 24 hours, including a few shots of me running for my shorts
outside. There also was a video that Sir recorded during and after my
punishments.

I checked Sir's next message after quickly looking through the photos.

"Those are private, but go through them one at a time and reflect on your
training. Also watch the video back," the message read.

"After that, get online and order at least five things from a sex or
bondage site for training. I want you to decide based on how hard your dick
gets thinking about the item used on you. Send them to my place," the next
message said.

I was a bit conflicted. After all I had been through, the last thing I
wanted to do was re-live it in photos. I just wanted to crawl into my bed
and sleep. I really didn't want to process the weight of what had just
happened to me and how I had agreed willingly to become the slave of a man
I was once friends with. But I didn't want to piss off Sir either. I knew
he was expecting a response, so I told him I would do as he ordered.

I sat on my couch with my laptop and pulled up the link Sir had sent. It
seemed to be a private dropbox, so I felt a little better that no one but
Sir and myself could see these. As I went through the photos, seeing
visually how my service looked from Sir's point of view, my dick grew hard
once again.

I also felt like my brain was going back to whatever mode it was in when I
was at Sir's house licking things clean. I felt my thoughts float away as I
just sat and looked at the photos of me as a slave. I had no worries, no
fears, nothing in my mind. All I was focusing on was my service.

I finally hit the end of the photos and began to watch the punishment
video. This was harder to watch since every whack and drop of wax that fell
on my body in the video made that same spot ache on my actual body. It was
as if I was being punished a second time, although in a much less severe
manner.

When the video was finally finished, I closed the laptop and went to fix
something to eat. I took the sandwich I'd made, a glass of water and the
laptop over to my cheap desk in the corner. As I sat down, I realized I
hadn't even bothered to get dressed since the shower. It had felt normal
without any clothes since I had spent the entire time at Sir's in a similar
manner. This realization didn't really bother me enough to get up and put
something on, so I went about looking online for some training equipment.

As I scrolled through pages and pages of hot models and good-looking gear,
my dick stayed at least half hard. Some of the items just didn't appeal to
me. Others, like spiked ball cages, flat out terrified me. There were quite
a few that caught my, and my dick's, attention. I ended up having a list of
10 or so to choose from. Sir had said at least five, but I wasn't sure I
could afford all 10 of the ones my dick liked, especially if Sir was going
to make me spend any more money this month.

After about an hour of internal debating and conflict, I finally pulled the
trigger and put six items in my cart. Sir already had some instruments to
hit me with, so I didn't want to buy anything like that unless he
specifically told me to. I also bought things that I thought I might enjoy
in some weird way. It was strange having to pick out devices that I knew
would be used against me during training. I felt like I was a murderer who
got to choose his method of execution. Of course, not that extreme, but I
certainly felt some dread mixed in with my excitement for each item.

In the end, I bought, paid for, and shipped to Sir the following: a metal
chastity device, iron leg and arm shackles, a funnel mouth gag, a puppy
tail butt plug, a remote-controlled vibrator, and some nipple clamps.

I sent Sir a message telling him what I had ordered and when it was
scheduled to arrive (I had paid for the fast shipping in hopes of pleasing
him). I never heard back from him, and after about an hour of waiting and
practically staring at my phone, I went about my normal weekend routine.

I did some laundry, cooking, cleaning and got things ready for work the
next week. I remained nude because at this point it seemed silly to dirty
clothes for only part of the day. It also made me kind of feel like I was
still serving Sir since I was nude and doing housework, just like I had
done at his apartment. I also kept my phone right next to me at all times,
hoping to hear from Sir. I wanted so badly for him to approve of my
purchases, but I was only met with silence every time I looked at the
phone.

Eventually I did go lie down and take a nap. I woke up past dinner time,
still with no message from Sir. I continued puttering around my place,
surfing the web, watching tv, and just relaxing a bit after the intense
training. My body was starting to recover too, especially after the
nap. Around 11, I decided it was time for bed. Sir obviously had no more
use for me, and even if he did, I felt that I couldn't be held responsible
if I missed his message because I was sleeping.

I woke up the next morning a little sore from my training. I checked my
phone for any messages, but didn't have any. So I went about my day as
usual, getting showered and shaved, but again time not bothering to put on
clothes. I was starting to feel better not wearing any. It just felt right
for me to stay nude.

Around 1, I got a text from Sir telling me to be at his place in 15 minutes
and to bring all the underwear I own. I stopped what I was doing (which
wasn't really much of anything, just playing a video game), got dressed,
emptied my underwear drawer into a gym bag, and headed to the car. When I
got there I was someone else had added "COCKSUCKER to the back window of my
car, only further adding to my humiliation while driving to Sir's apartment
complex.

I parked, carried the gym bag full of underwear up the stairs and knelt
once again at the doormat. I placed the underwear bag to my right as I
knocked on the door and started counting. After 30 long seconds, I opened
the door and crawled inside, dragging the bag behind.

I saw Sir had put a grey and black file holder with an unlocked padlock in
the entryway. I assumed this was my new lock box, so as I began stripping I
folded and put my clothes inside of it. When I was completely nude, I
pushed the padlock down, sealing my clothes inside. I got into a kneeling
position, and as I looked up I realized Sir was leaning against the kitchen
bar counter watching me. I'm sure he had been doing that the whole time,
but I was so preoccupied with doing things right that I hadn't noticed him.

Sir was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt. I didn't dare
raise my eyes past his chest, knowing better than to try and look at his
handsome face. Instead, I lowered my gaze to his feet, which were covered
in a pair of black ankle socks. It was strange, but I felt a slight pang at
not being able to see his barefeet. I had enjoyed kissing and licking them
and was kind of growing attached to them.

"So how badly do you have to piss, slave?" Sir asked.

I didn't know why he was asking, but I told Sir I didn't really have to
piss at all. He took a few quick steps toward me, ending up right in front
of my kneeling naked body.

"Do you mean to tell me that you've held your piss since I kicked you out
and you still don't have to piss?" he asked, with anger rising. "Because
surely you weren't dumb enough to break our contract less than 24 hours
into it. And I didn't get any messages asking for permission to use the
bathroom."

I realized my mistake then. Written clearly in the contract it stated I had
to get Sir's permission to go whenever I wasn't at work. And I'd pissed at
least three times since leaving Sir's place yesterday, each time without
asking. I felt panic starting to rise inside of me.

"Please, Sir, please forgive this dumb fag, Sir. I was so tired from
yesterday that I didn't even think about asking permission to go, Sir," I
said quickly and in the most pathetic of voice I could muster. "Have mercy,
Sir. I am still learning to be your slave, please don't punish me, Sir,
please. I'll do anything!"

Less than a second after I finished my begging, Sir's right foot made
contact with my balls in a hard, swift kick. Instinctively, I grabbed for
them and bent over trying to protect myself from another blow.

"Move your fucking hands, now," Sir said. I did as he said, hesitantly
resting them on my thighs. I saw the foot move before I felt the pain as
Sir kicked my balls again, causing me to cry out and fall over.

"Get your ass into the office, fag," Sir steamed. "I cannot believe
you. Three fucking punishments in 24 hours. Maybe I picked the wrong slave
to own."

I began crawling down the hall to the office with the dog transporter. The
door was closed, but I pushed it open and made my way inside. Sir came in
shortly after I settled in to a spot in the middle of the room. He closed
the door behind him and went to pull the window blinds down across the
room.

"Stand up and face the door," Sir said as he moved behind me.

I did as I was told, scrambling to my feet as fast as possible to avoid
ticking off Sir even more. I felt Sir's hand come around from behind.

"Open up," he said. And as I did, a rubber phallic device was shoved in my
mouth. I couldn't tell if it was a dildo or just some sort of gag. As I
closed my mouth, my taste buds began to be assaulted with the taste of
rubber, so I assumed it was some sort of sex toy. And since I didn't feel
any straps, I knew it wasn't a gag.

"Now I've only had to use this punishment once before," Sir said. "It's
brutal, but I think since you're averaging an infraction every 8 hours,
extreme measures are called for."

I began to get really nervous now. Sir's first two punishments had been
rough, but it sounded like this would be even worse. I felt my heart start
to race and I began rapidly breathing through my nose. Sweat also started
to run down various places in my body. I wasn't sure if these responses
were in fear, anticipation, or a mix of the two.

Sir grabbed my wrists and pulled them behind me. He then began tying my
arms together with what felt like rope. Once he had them knotted off, he
pulled my bound arms back, forcing my shoulders down and causing me to bend
over a bit.

I then felt my arms being tugged even higher as I heard rope sliding across
something above me. The tugging stopped just as the pain got to be too
much. As a result of the pulling, I was on my tip toes, trying to keep my
arms from being ripped out of their sockets. I heard Sir grabbing one of
the sawhorses and it sounded like he was setting it up right behind
me. After that was down, a black cloth was put over my eyes, blocking my
vision. Sir tied a tight knot on the back of my head, pulling the blindfold
taut.

"Open up," Sir said, and I felt him pull whatever was in my mouth out. It
was replaced with a round object, that I wasn't sure what it was until I
felt straps going around my lower head and neck. Sir had put a ball gag in
the object's place. I then heard the door open again and then there was
quiet.

I wasn't sure if this was the punishment or what was going on. My arms were
already starting to hurt and the extended amount of time I'd put weight on
my tiptoes was not pleasant either. I was hoping this was the extent of it
and that Sir would come back and release me soon.

I heard Sir carrying some things back in the room. He was moving around and
it sounded like he was setting up something. I assumed, and kind of hoped,
it was just the video camera to record the punishment, but with the
blindfold on, every sound was amplified and played to my terrified
imagination.

I felt Sir grab me around the stomach, pushing me backward. I felt
something hit the edge of my asshole, but it didn't go in.

"Now stay there. If you take a step forward, I'll know, and you'll be in
for a world of pain," Sir said. "I'm going to grab the final two things for
this, then I'll fill you in on what's about to happen."

I heard him move out of the room, and I really started to sweat now. My
punishment was only a minute or so away, and I was mentally unprepared for
whatever torments Sir had planned. Already my arms were throbbing and leg
muscles starting to tense up from this new position. I wasn't sure what was
touching my ass, but I couldn't imagine that it wouldn't be going inside of
me shortly.

Sir re-entered the room, and I felt him slide something around my neck and
then heard him set something down. Whatever was around my neck didn't go
fully around and connect, and it felt like it had two attachments hanging
on either side. In my mind, I was picturing some horrible whip that Sir was
about to use all over my body, but I just couldn't figure out exactly what
it was with my eyes shut to the world.

"Now for the next hour or so, you're going to be in hell," Sir said. "I've
got your arms rigged up through a pulley so that you cannot comfortably
stand without pulling on them. And since I can already see your legs
starting to quiver, I imagine it won't be long before you decide the arm
pain is worth the small break for your legs. But when you take that break,
the butt plug on the sawhorse behind you will enter your ass. On that butt
plug I put some special lube just for bad fags. So while your legs are
resting, your arms are being pulled and your cunt assaulted."

I could visualize exactly what Sir had rigged up now. He essentially was
making me choose between torturing my legs or assaulting my ass and pulling
my arms. And I was sure that the special lube wouldn't make things any
better.

"The headphones around your neck will be put on before I leave the room,"
Sir said. "You will be listening to a very special recording of things you
missed out on since I'm having to punish you instead. As you struggle with
all this, I want you to think about how badly you've messed up and how
lucky you are to get another chance to serve a man like me. Got it?"

I mumbled "Yes, Sir" into my gag, but it came out as an unintelligible
mmmherrrer. I felt the headphones lifted from my neck and placed on top of
my head.

Sir left the right ear open for just a second and I felt his breath on my
ear as he whispered "The plug's covered in Bengay, faggot. Enjoy."

And then the sounds of the world were cut off and replaced instead with the
moans and grunts of another guy and Sir's voice shouting "Take that dick,
faggot. Take it all." I was listening to Sir fucking someone else.

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Sorry it longer than before to get this chapter up. I hope you enjoyed the
fifth chapter of my tale. I love to receive comments and feedback at
kinkyinga@gmail.com.