Date: Thu, 15 Dec 2011 14:30:07 +0000
From: heypatrick@leathermail.com
Subject: Transformation: Part 2

Transformation
Copyright 2012 by Heypatrick@Leathermail.com
All Rights Reserved

WARNING! If you've gotten to this point you've already figured out that
these are sexual stories, and that in this part of Nifty are stories about
sex between men. You've already been warned that you should be 18 years of
age or older, and should be living in a place where reading or possessing
such material is not illegal. You may or may not be smart enough to realize
the importance of safe sex but it is of the utmost importance.

	This story, in nine acts, is not fictional though I have taken some
liberties with names and a bit of liberty with the erotic material, though
not substantially changing what indeed did occur. Lets say its about 60% is
actually true and the rest is to various, lesser degrees. This material is
copyrighted and should not be re-posted or published in any manner without
permission from the author. Feel free to tell others about it if you enjoy
it, and any comments, good or bad, are welcome: HeyPatrick@Leathermail.com
	"Transformation" seems like such a lofty title for this tale but if
you've ever believed that you found a similar place in life after years
struggling to find out what it all means, then perhaps you can better
understand my choice of titles. Of course, transformation doesn't always
guarantee the perfect life, or take place like you expected, but it is
significant.

	And as I begin let me thank "TBaron" for "Snake Pit", here on Nifty
Archive- Authoritarian, which prompted me to recall and relate my own
"slave motel" experience.

---------------------PART TWO: Humiliation, Waddling, Coffee, Rimming and Turds

	We arrived at the Habana in the early afternoon and by this time
the day was winding down. The late August weather was pleasant, but I had
no idea what weather in OKC was like so I didn't know if this was good or
bad. By this time in the day I had been sorely put in my place... shaved
head, crotch and ass, chained to the bed, used by others, diapered and fed
low quality food. But signing the dotted line meant this was to be my lot
until Master decided otherwise. I still believed I'd found my place of
contentment.
	Master had finished eating and was smoking and just generally
watching the cars drive through the parking lot. It wasn't really dusk and
this was all new to me so I didn't know what to expect, but it seemed a bit
boring. Of course, with the afternoon I'd had I should be grateful for a
bit of peace and quiet. I sat here munching on the last bites of my second
burger, and a guy in blue jeans and polo walks up and says hello to Master.

	"You look all content sitting here. Waiting for a party to start?"
	"I sort of thought we were the party," I said, and Master turned
and gave me a look, so I shut up.
	"Why, is someone going to have a party?" Master asked the guy.
	"Well, I don't know, its only Wednesday night so it is a bit early
in the week. But you never know. I'm Jake", he said, and reach out his
hand.
	Master shook it and said, "Palmer". Glancing my way he said, "This
is my slave; he doesn't have a name yet."

	Well, that was news to me. "He also hasn't learned yet not to speak
unless spoken to." This was also news to me but I guess learning slave ways
comes from experience, sort of a school of hard knocks kind of
training. Lliterally!
	The guy looked down at me, and turned to Master and said "May I?"
	"Sure", Master said, and Jake reached down and cupped my chin and
stuck a couple of fingers into my mouth. I responded by sucking on
them. I'd figured out by then that I was supposed to suck on anything that
was put into my mouth, though I hadn't been told that yet, either.

	Jake reached on down and patted my diapers and threw a questioning
look at Master. "He's chained up till morning and can't reach the toilet",
Master said. "He has to piss somehow." Jake pushed his hand down into my
crotch inside the layer of diapers to feel the wetness, and brought it up
his nose and sniffed. He then put it back into my mouth and I licked off
the pissy wetness.
	"You know", Jake offered. You could solve that problem by putting a
sign up on the door of the rest room by the pool telling guys to come here
to drink your slave's piss. I suspect you'd get enough takers to keep him
dry."
	"That's an idea", Master said, "though my slave doesn't seem to
like the diapers, so its a good lesson in humiliation to make him wear
them. We can't let him get full of himself. I'm thinking about having him
wear them all of the time." He looked down at me and saw the sour look on
my face, "See what I mean? He can be very entertaining and he IS here
mainly for my entertainment."

	"I see your point." Jake took a step closer to me and Master
snapped his fingers. I took that to mean to kneel up to crotch level. I
guess once you begin to learn your proper place a lot of things just come
naturally. Jake grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face into his
crotch. He was wearing shorts so I raised my hands up his thighs, just
inside to feel that he was wearing boxer shorts under them. I started
groping what was clearly a substantial endowment, given what it felt like
soft, and he let me go ahead for a bit before slapping my hands down. I
guess it was a 'mouth-only crotch'.
	Again, to Master, Jake spoke again, "Most people get rooms on the
inside, facing the pool and court yard rather than the parking lot. The
motel is pretty easy about what goes on there, away from public view."
	"Yeah, but I'm a rather cheap bastard and those rooms cost more.",
Master said. "I'm here until Sunday morning so I can always wander around
there when I want to." Master clearly left me out of those pronouns. I
didn't know if that meant he'd be leaving me here chained up or if he just
meant that he's the one that counted. I suspect its because he's the one
who counts. I just go where I'm told and do what I'm told, and right now my
nose was told to keep sniffing Jake's crotch, and since there was a
definite stiffening in there I was clearly in the right place. I wanted
that cock!

	"You said he was chained up until tomorrow; did he do something
wrong?" Jake seemed to sense my interest and discretely unzipped his jeans
and let me get closer to his cock.
	"Careful", Master" said. "I don't want any trouble from someone
driving by and seeing cock sucking going on. I've seen the occasional
police car cruise by."
	"Oh, don't worry. So long as the cock isn't out he can nuzzle it
all he wants. There's no law that says you can't make lewd motions." Jake
paused, "Well, maybe there is, but they know what goes on here. Hell,
they've been known to stop in for some fun once in a while as well."
	"I just don't want any trouble", Master said. "Anyway, he's chained
up because I gave a guy the keys to the locks as an incentive for him to
come back. Master went on to relate how he gave the keys away. "Right now
I'd say those keys are burning a hole in his pocket. He'll be back,
probably tomorrow. Until then the party is just going to have to come to
us."
	"That all sounds hot. But what if he doesn't come back?" Jake was
clearly hoping that would be the case.
	"We'll deal with that when it happens", Master said.
	 Jake pushed me back off and zipped up, "Well, I'm gonna wander
around for a bit. Nice meeting you. Mind if I stop back later?"
	"No problem" Master replied. "The more the merrier."

	I took the last bite of my dinner and stood up to take all the
trash inside the room. I reached for Master's cup, thinking I'd be able to
sneak the last couple of swallows.
	"No, I'll throw this away." Master had clearly read my mind.
	I took the trash to the room and came back out. "Master, may I have
something to drink?" He look at me and scowled.
	"Look, you are a slave. You heard me say you aren't suppose to talk
unless spoken to, though when its REALLY necessary you can say "Master?"
and wait until I acknowledge you and speak to you directly. If you speak
out of turn again you will be punished.
	And secondly, you only need what I say you need. When I think you
need to drink something I will tell you so. And I'm not ready to piss yet
so you'll wait."
	I sat back down in my soggy diaper. I had to piss again so went
ahead and let it flow, making the diaper even more soggy. Then the thought
occurred to me that maybe I could reach down and get some of my own piss in
my hand and drink it. But I knew Master would get, well, pissed at me, so I
just sat there.

	"Go get my book from the table next to the chair."
	"Yes, Sir," I responded, and I got up to do what I was told as
Master got up and went to the trash can at the parking lot (clearly out of
my reach) and threw away the cup and the ice still in it. He then went to
the jeep and got the coffee pot and coffee, and his big mug, and went into
the room.
	I started to ask if he wanted me to make coffee and stopped
myself. If he wanted me to do it he would have told me. I'd better not
speak out of turn. Besides, after I thought about it, the chain wouldn't
let me reach the sink. I waited for him to come back out. He started the
coffee and then came out an sat back down. I knelt down in front of him
holding his book out to him. He reached for it, parted his legs and pulled
my face into his crotch and we sat there like that for a while. I could
hear cars cruising through the parking lot every now and then and a couple
of guys wandered by us on their way to their room, pulling luggage behind
them. As I was kneeling, nuzzling my Master's crotch I realized that I was
pretty happy and content. I just needed to better learn how to think like a
slave and things would be fine.

	"Go fill my mug with coffee and bring it to me." Master's voice
startled me back to attentiveness. I got up and went waddling in and
noticed he'd set the coffee pot up on the table by the window. I emptied
the pot into his big thermos coffee mug. I guess he wanted to be sure I
didn't drink any because he just made enough for one mug. He knows I hate
the taste of coffee but as thirsty as I was I might have considered
it. Coffee piss comes out tasting pretty bitter and Master drank a lot of
coffee.
	I took the mug out to him (he drinks it black, no sugar) and I
noticed he had gone back to the Jeep and gotten two six packs of his beer
from the cooler, non-alcoholic, Texas Select. That's the only beer he
drinks and he always had to take it with him when he left the state. But I
knew from experience that it made great beer piss, so clearly he was
looking out for my well-being.

	There is something very spiritual about drinking piss from a
cock. Its about the most spiritual thing I know of, and that comes from
someone seminary trained and with ample experience in ministry. There is a
special connection that takes place when you kneel in front of someone and
place your lips around their cock. I've experienced it every time. Its an
overwhelming sense of closeness, of all the world being at peace in those
few moments.
	It occurs in those seconds after the sensitive skin of your lips
envelope the sensitive skin of that cock, with the knowledge that you are
going far beyond just sucking, you are going the be treated with a special
golden glow. Once that nectar begins to flow chills develop deep within you
that are soon quenched by the golden warmth you seem to be stealing from
another's body. And there is a sense of closeness, of oneness.
	Even the acrid taste of morning piss doesn't lessen the joy you
feel, and if it's the smooth, sweet flavor of beer piss, time can stand
still, and it does so as long as the flow continues, interrupted only at
the end by pauses and spurts, as the magic spring of life exhausts flow.

	Gee, I never knew I could wax so poetic!

	But back to the story.

	"Take the beer to the frig; you should be able to reach it. I took
it in and put it in the small frig in the room to stay cold. I did so, and
came back outside and started to kneel back down. "Go inside and set up the
rim chair and wait there. We need to have a session".
	I got back up and as I turned I saw him smirk, and I don't know if
it was the upcoming "session" he was looking forward to or watching me
waddle. I didn't appreciate either, but he did say I was here for his
entertainment so I guess I shouldn't complain.

	I went (waddled) in and got the rim seat and the four legs and sat
down to put it together. As I did I thought about why I was here, and why
was I struggling with it all so much. I chose this; I wanted to be a
slave. I gave him control. I've planned for this for a long time. Why am I
fighting him? As I put the second leg on I was to the part of my self-pep
talk where I was contemplating the "session" we were about to have. I
really love rimming Master, darting my tongue in and out of his hole, but
on my last visit he'd started putting out little turds when I rimmed him,
and making me swallow them, and I didn't like it. Oh, he doesn't call them
"turds", he refers to them as my "treats", "I have a treat for you", he'll
say.

	I mean, I knew that it was going to go in this direction
eventually. He told me there was no reason to even consider being his slave
if I wouldn't eat his shit, and he did say we'd take it slowly, but I
figured not to have to worry about it for a while. If this was what taking
it slowly meant, maybe I'm not up to it after all.

	Of course, he also might have been smirking because of who he saw
coming. He started talking to someone and I looked up. Its the security
guard's boss. I guess he decided to come back after all.
	Master comes back inside with the boss trailing behind him. "Ah,
damn it, slave. Is this how its going to be?" I set the rim seat up on its
four legs and looked up at him looking behind me. I looked around and saw
that he was mad about the wet stain on the carpet underneath where I was
sitting. My soggy diaper leaked and created a wet spot on the carpet. I got
up and Master reached over to get more diapers and then opened one up to
figure out how to get it on me. He looked over at the security guard's boss
to see if he knew.
	"I have kids", he said, and reached for the diaper, opened it up
and spread it out on the floor. "Lie down." I laid down and he worked it
under me and pulled it tight. He then grabbed as pen from his pocket and
poked several holes all over the outside, holding my legs together to roll
me around to reach the back side. He repeated the steps, looking at Master
to ask how many diapers.
	"Four more, I guess, if you can get them on him. He'll have to make
it until morning." He was successful, but it sure made for a ball shaped
package. It would be easy, before too long, to just roll me around!

	Show your thanks, slave and maybe he'll give you something to
drink." I kneeled up and the boss pulled his cock out shyly, though he had
nothing to be shy about. He was hung! I took it in my mouth and he
stiffened up from an already hard cock, and I just held it in my mouth.
	"It'll soften up one it gets over the shock", Master told him. It
did, and eventually the trickled started down my throat.

	Once he pissed (and my thirst was quenched) I started sucking,
expecting cream to follow. "You'd better pull out or you'll come, and then
you'll want to leave from guilt or embarrassment." The boss was just
getting into a rocking motion, clearly enjoying my mouth on his cock but he
pulled out and tucked his cock back in.

	"Have a seat and watch the show, Master invited. I have
non-alcoholic beer or I can make more coffee if you would like."
	The boss sat, but said," No thanks" to beverages. "That's a rim
seat, isn't it?"
 	"Yep. Okay, slut, get your head under there."

	The rim seat consisted of an oak toilet seat, the kind with that
slit at the front that I always thought of as a toilet seat for a men's
room because you could start pissing while you were lifting the lid and not
splash any as you raised it. Attached to the under side were four end table
brackets that angled the screw-in wooden spindle legs so that they spread
out a bit, allowing for more room underneath, and added stability. The legs
were designed for a table but had been trimmed to appropriate rimming
height. It came apart in order to lay flat and fit nicely in a suitcase for
travel, or to tuck out of the way when not in use. It was all varnished,
'for easy cleaning', at least that is how I would write it up for an ad in
Drummer.

	I got down on all fours and turned over and scooted myself under
it, though the ball of diapers around my hips had me at enough of an angle
that my chest almost touched the front of the rim seat. But I got under it,
where I was supposed to be. Master shed his jeans and sat down on the rim
seat and I began rimming.

	Master went on tutoring the boss. "Now my slave here doesn't really
like to eat my shit. I guess he thinks its beneath him. He's still learning
that nothing is beneath a slave, that he's the one beneath men, in this
case, literally, heh, heh. Whatever they what him to do, he has to do. He
still has to learn that anything I want of him is what he will do. And so
he's gotta be trained until the hesitation is gone and he treats it like
any other task he does for me. He's got to learn that anything I want that
is within his power, what little he power he has at all. Anything I want, I
get.
	"Once I've trained away his hesitation we won't do it all that
often but until he responds the way I want its going to be an everyday
occurrence, sometimes twice. We're gonna keep it up every day until he
learns that lesson. Every day. I'm even making it easier for him. I drink a
lot of coffee because I like coffee, but it also helps my turds to come out
small, firm and kind of tarry, easy for him to deal with. He can take them
in and swallow without really having to taste them but he hasn't figured
that out yet. He resists and hesitates, and ends up holding them in his
mouth getting a bitter taste. But he'll learn to just swallow them down,
eventually, and then it won't be so big of a deal for him. But the longer
it takes the longer we train. Right slave?"
	"Yes, Sir", I mumble, while my tongue was busy licking his ass
crack. I guess there is a lot of things I missed in the fine print.
	"Okay, slave. I've been waiting to spring this on you but now is as
good a time as any. Reach into you diaper with your hand and start stroking
your dick."

	I did as he ordered, not really believing my luck. I reached into
the crotch of the wet diaper. My dick was already hard so it responded
well. I kept my tongue busy on Master's asshole but my focus was on my
dick.

	Master continued. "You can stroke your dick anytime you're licking
my ass, waiting for a treat. Those are the ONLY times you can touch your
dick without permission. And the only time you can shoot is when I'm
feeding you. You still don't shoot until I give permission, and if you
don't learn to do this well that's going to be few and far between."
	Master focused his words back at Steve. "I'm training him to
receive his pleasure doing things for me. I want him to learn that serving
me leads to his pleasure. And what he doesn't know is that swallowing my
shit isn't the worst thing he will learn to do without questioning when I
tell him to."

	The guard's boss, he told us his name was Steve, he sat on the
chair just watching what was going on and stroking his own cock.  I really
couldn't see him, though every so often I turned my head a little and got a
glimpse of him. He didn't say anything and Master went on talking about SM
and sex in Europe and some of the scenes he's been involved in. I just kept
rimming, thankful that it seemed to be all he expected of me. My dick was
started to signal that it might be interested in shooting and I wondered if
I should tell Master.

	Then suddenly, with no warning and without him saying a word or
outward indication, suddenly a small "treat" dropped out just as I paused
in working my tongue in his ass. I started to choke but he just sat there,
talking on, no sign that it had occurred other then a slight bearing down
on my face to let me know not to spit it out. It was in my mouth, trapped
under my tongue as I tried to dislodge it and move it so I could swallow
it. My potential orgasm was totally forgotten.

	The "treat", as Master called it, was leaving a bitter tasting
trail. Finally I was able to get it worked back over my tongue but the
taste was still there causing me to gag a bit. I heard Master say, "Yeah,
he's still fighting it. I just fed him a small taste and he didn't learn
just to swallow it down. Here comes another one", and sure enough, a
slightly larger turd dropped down but I managed to just swallow it
down. The bitter taste was still there from the previous one but I didn't
struggle this time. "That's better, slave. that's how you do it. Here comes
another treat." I tried to get myself back to focusing in my dick, but my
heart really wasn't in it.

	And all the while the boss, Steve, apparently just watched, though
I did hear an increase in his stroking and his breathing. Master was
smoking his cigarette but not bothering to touch his dick.
	After a couple more that I handled with varying degrees of success,
Master got up and told Steve, "Here, take a turn." Steve looked at him like
he was crazy, but Master insisted. "Come on, drop your pants and sit down
and he'll rim you. Not shit, that's a service reserved for me, but I think
you might like a nice rim job."
	Steve just sat there for a moment, and then got up and dropped his
slacks. He wore grey briefs and he dropped them too, and stepped out of
them.
	"I've never been rimmed before. What do I do?"
	Master responded, just sit down. The slave will find your hole and
get to work on it, the rest will come naturally to you. That's what's so
nice about a rim job, there's no work involved. At least on your part."

	Steve kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks and came over
and sat down on the rim seat, very hesitantly, tentatively. I quickly went
to work on his asshole.  It was a little musky but clean, and not too
hairy.
	The first time my tongue touched his cherry he jumped slightly, but
I think he must have liked it because he settled back quickly and adjusted
a bit. Then I heard a quiet moaning and heard him say, "Oh,
god. Ohhhhhhhhh!" I could imagine that he had his eyes closed and his head
tilted back, savoring what he was feeling.
	Master cautioned him again about cumming and feeling too guilty to
continue, "Unless you're ready to go home."

	I could tell Master was playing him, trying to keep him here,
though I didn't know for what reason. Steve just kept sitting there,
stroking and rocking back and forth, figuring out that it was okay to press
his ass down onto my tongue. Then he reached up and unbuttoned his shirt
and slid of both it and then his undershirt. Clearly he wasn't going
anywhere fast, though it might not be long before came.

	"So, what are you into", Master asks. He seems to know what the
answer will be.
	"Into what", he starts, "oh, you mean with sex". "I don't really
know. I haven't done anything like this before."
	"Yeah", Master says, pauses briefly, and then, "but you've thought
about it."
	"Sort of", is the response, and Master smiles knowingly. "'Sort of'
as in you'd like to be on the submissive end of it?" Master asks. Steve
didn't answer, but his silence makes it quite obvious.
	Master stands up and walks over to him, placing his boots on either
side of my hips as I'm still involved in the rim job, and standing with his
crotch just inches from Steve's face. At least that's what I assumed,
since, of course, I couldn't see.
	"Isn't that right?, Steve".

	Steve just sits there, his rocking motion slowing a bit as he
thinks about his next words. He takes a deep breath to inhale Master's
crotch.
	"Maybe", he finally says. And Master just smiles and stands there,
reaching out with his hands to draw Steve's head into his zippered crotch,
while Steve rocks back and forth, stroking his cock and grinding his butt
hole into my tongue. If that isn't emotional overload I don't know what is.

---------------------