Tom Series

By Harry Rod

Published on Nov 15, 2007

Gay

I licked it from my hand and fought any urge to gag.

I didn't raise my head again, but stood there looking down. I could see my slime slick dick hanging there; the softest it had been in hours.

"Now eat your potatoes, boy," Sir instructed, and my stomach clinched as I looked at the cum-covered plate and potatoes.

I didn't know if I could get them down. Emotions were clogging my throat and I found it difficult to swallow my own spit, much less these potatoes. But I knew there was no choice; one way or the other I would eat them as he had just proved.

I dipped three fingers into the pile and scooped up some. I opened my mouth and inserted the fingers and sucked them clean. The bleachy smell of the cum mixed with the starchy taste of the potatoes didn't sit well with me. But with tears streaming down my face again, I took another scoop and fed myself.

It seemed that he knew how to heap humiliation on me in endless ways. Not only had I been demeaned by him in front of Phil to suck cock and jerk off, but now I had to eat this mess. And Ms. H seemed to always show up when it would have the most impact on my debasement.

I wondered, as I scooped more into my mouth, what her relationship to Sir was and why she tolerated all this man to man sex. Did he have some kind of hold over her?

Sir and Phil stood and watched as I wiped up the last of the potatoes and licked my fingers clean.

"Good, boy," Sir said. And once again I had the emotion of pride flow over me. It felt good to be praised by him for doing things correctly. Why did that matter to me?

"Follow me, boy," he instructed. I stood and followed him outside. Phil followed both of us. "Relieve yourself, boy."

I swallowed again and knew I had to go, it would be my one chance this evening and I would have to do it with Phil watching. That didn't make it any easier. It was still so new to me and so foreign.

I walked over to the tree and tried to get a flow going. I was just getting a dribble going when he said, "Turn around, boy."

I turned and faced towards them, although my head was bowed in submission. I worked to get my flow going again. I had to close my eyes and really work at it, but I finally got a stream going. Suddenly, I had visions of people lined up at the windows of the house watching me, and the stream dwindled.

I really needed to take a dump, but just couldn't bring myself to do that in front of this stranger. But the thought of getting another enema from Ms. H gave me pause.

"Hurry up, boy," he said, and then added, "either go or get back here."

"Yes, Sir," I said, and quickly made a decision. As much as I hated to, I walked over to the hole and squatted over it. I closed my eyes as if to hide myself from such a public view. As I pushed, I fought the embarrassment. I finished, used the paper, and then used the shovel to bury what I had done.

As I walked back to the house, Phil was wearing a laughing smile, and that only added to my humiliation.

I followed them back into the house. Phil said, "Thank you for allowing me to observe your new boy. I still can't believe that you can get a man to go so low to do these things at your direction." He shook his head in amazement, but still had a smile on his face.

He turned and left. I wondered if he had open access to the house, or a key.

Sir again instructed me to follow him. In his bedroom, he opened a small closet. He pulled out some objects and then walked over to me. He sat on a chair and told me to stand in front of him.

He took a clear plastic ring and manhandled my balls and cock through it. It was so strange to have a man handling me in such a way. First there was the shaving, the spreading of bengay, and now this.

Once he had the ring in place, he slid a plastic sheath over my cock, and then fastened it to the ring. He put a lock on it. I realized it was some sort of device to imprison my cock. I couldn't get hard in it.

"This will keep you under control tonight. Unless I unlock the lock you will not be able to get hard, or play with yourself, boy."

I looked down and saw that what he said was true. I only had a little space at the end of the plastic sheath. It was open so I could pee, but no way to touch it or stimulate it.

"Turn around, boy, and bend over." I did as he said, shaking with trepidation at what I thought was coming next. I heard a squishy sound and then felt something cold being applied to my butt. His finger then pushed in on my hole and I gasped.

"Relax, boy" he said, and continued to work his finger around in my hole. He pulled his finger out, and then I felt something cold and firmer being pushed into my hole. It stretched my hole a bit, but didn't hurt. My hole then closed down, but not all the way. There was something still in the channel.

"It's a little butt plug in the shape of a little dick. Nothing big enough to get you stimulated, but enough for you to know that you belong to me, boy."

He smacked one cheek of my ass and told me to stand up and turn back around. My cock had swollen or tried to. It was painful; something was poking into the base of my cock and the end was pressed into the end of the plastic cage. He laughed when he saw my condition and the look on my face.

He stood and put a collar around my neck and applied another lock to it. I would not be able to take it off without the key.

He then handed me a thin pair of nylon shorts. "Put these on, boy," he instructed. As I raised my leg to put my right leg through, I felt the plug move in my ass. I clenched down on it and it didn't move. That caused me to put my leg down quickly. I had to bend down then and work the shorts up to get my other leg in. Again the weird sensation in my ass.

When I stood up, I caught a glimpse of his face, and he was smiling. He knew what I was feeling. He handed me a shirt then and told me to put it on. It was also made of a thin nylon material and also white. I put it on and realized it was a tank top. It was constructed in such a way that the arm holes were very large, leaving much of my torso exposed. Even as light as the material was, my tender nipples felt it.

I watched then as he changed into black jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Black socks and boots completed his black ensemble. I had stared, fascinated by his body, while he changed. I still couldn't believe I had been so intimate with it. But those thought made my cock swell, which hurt.

"Follow me, boy," he said, and led me through the house and out to the van. Once again, I was put in the back seat. I wondered if I was going to have to strip and ride naked, but he gave no direction on that.

I sat back after I had buckled up. He drove without any comment or indication that he knew I was there. Occasionally, I would catch his eyes in the rear view mirror, but they were focused on checking for traffic rather than seeing me.

The radio was on a smooth jazz channel. It seemed to have very few commercials and between it and the rhythm of the ride I became drowsy. My thoughts played back over the last two days and everything that had happened.

In my relaxed state, I wasn't as emotional about all of it. It just seemed to play out. And some of the emails and videos I had seen and read intertwined with my memories, so that I was having difficulty keeping fact and fiction straight in my mind.

Next time I noticed the outside, I realized that it was now dark and we had been driving for a considerable amount of time.

I shook myself to try and bring my mind back to reality. Then I thought, this is reality? Me, as a slave to some guy for a year, and performing sex for him, and more; was it really real. How could I believe this was real?

He drove for another 15 minutes or so and then pulled into a parking lot. He stopped the car and, after he got out, he opened the back door and told me to get out. Once out, he reached up and clipped something to my collar. I realized it was a leash.

I gritted my teeth at the picture I got of this; a grown man being led around on a leash by another man.

Without a word, he turned around and I had no choice but to follow him. I didn't want to look, but I tried to look at the same time. I wanted to know if there was someone around and I didn't want to know. I tried to get myself under control as I followed him down the sidewalk and into a building.

The interior was darker and it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the low level light. When I could see, I saw a bunch of guys standing around. Many were drinking beers. I saw a bar on the far side of the room.

Sir tugged on my leash and I followed him through the crowd. I saw many eyes following us. A couple of the guys were pointing with their hands while holding the beer bottle. There was much discussion it seemed about me, and some laughter. Some of the men looked me up and down, like I was some prize bull or a hooker or something. I felt the heat rise up my face.

We ended standing in one corner of the room, which seemed to be one of the brighter spots in the room. A guy walked by and Sir said something to him. In a minute a bottle of beer was set down in front of him.

My white outfit seemed to shine like a beacon in the place. And I didn't think it was just my imagination that so many men kept looking my direction. Then they seemed to be talking amongst themselves about me, because others in their group would turn, look at me and then smirk.

Finally a man walked up and said, "Well, I see you have a new boy."

Sir just nodded.

"Have you already marked him?" the guy asked.

"Take off your shirt, boy," Sir instructed.

Involuntarily my mouth dropped. I snapped it closed and reached down to the bottom of the shirt and pulled it up and off. I stood there trembling. The man looked me over and then reached over and flipped the rings on my nipples. I gasped from the pain that shot back and forth between them.

"Yes, I see; fresh piercings." He looked me up and down, smirking. "And does he have the tattoo?"

"Turn around, boy," He instructed. And again, I shook as I turned, afraid of what was coming next. "Pull down your shorts, boy."

He couldn't be serious! But there was no withdrawal of the statement. I put my thumbs in my waist band and pushed them down below my ass. "All the way, boy," he said, after I had stopped. I pushed them down until they dropped to the floor. I now stood there naked. Tears streamed down my face as I bit my lip.

"Nice, just like the others; the rocking M'. I hadn't seen the tattoo. I had wondered what it was. But a rocking M', what does that mean? "I love the way you designed that. Only a select few know that it is really an M' and a B' locked together. Great way to say, `My boy' and not have the whole world know about it."

So I had a tattoo on my ass that said, "my boy." Fuck!

"Nice ass he has as well," the man said as he rubbed his hand over it. I shivered at the touch. "How is it?"

"I haven't used it yet, but everything else he has done has been good. Still breaking him in. This is his first night out."

The man continued to run his hand over my ass and my body. "And I am sure you are going to have first chance at it, right? Nowt willing to see off that opportunity?"

Instead of responding to the man, he said, "Bend over, boy." Emotions were boiling up in me. My embarrassment was powerful and resentment, humiliation, along with wanting to make this man proud of me, and knowing my contract with him, I did what he said. I bent at the waist. "Now spread your cheeks, boy."

I knew what this would reveal, and I stiffened my entire body as I reached back and parted my cheeks. "I see you are beginning to train him," the man said, as he ran his fingers over the butt plug and pushed in on it. I gasped and clenched tightly down on the plug.

I held the position until Sir said, "Stand, boy, and turn around." Tension, like an electric wire, played through my body with every nerve on edge as I stood and turned around.

The man laughed and pointed. Many of the men turned to see the object of the joke. I stood there and my cock tried to swell within the confines of the plastic cage. Humiliation rose to the top of the emotions, and I lowered my gaze as the men looked at my captivity.

I put my hands behind my back and locked them together and lowered my head.

"So you are making sure that he is kept for your enjoyment and no one else's," he said, and laughed.

Several other men standing around laughed as well, and I felt my face heat up and the flush run down from my neck.

"Yes, he can't seem to control himself yet. Seems to always be horny," Sir said to more laughter.

Someone else said, "That's a good thing in a boy!" Everyone was laughing now.

"Yes, but he just couldn't keep his hands off of himself. So I am teaching him a bit of restraint and control. I control when he can cum and how. Look how his cock is trying to swell right now. But it can't because of the gates of hell and the cage." He pointed to my crotch.

I kept my head hung and fought both the heat rising in me and my rising cock. I closed my eyes, trying once again to hide myself. But to no avail.

"Whatever, he is a fine specimen and a tribute to your long line of boys." I felt a spear of pride ripple through all the embarrassment. Someone was praising his boy! And that was me!

Sir chatted with a couple of guys, completely ignoring me as I stood there on display and being inspected by several men. I felt hands running over my butt and chest. Someone pushed in on my butt plug, and I gasped and they laughed.

Another bounced the contraption around my cock which didn't help make it get any smaller. I groaned at the pain this caused.

Finally, Sir stood to leave the room, and pulled on my leash to make me follow. He opened a door and led me through into the room beyond. I panicked as I wondered when or if I would get my clothes, as little as they were, back again.

It seemed even darker, if that was possible. Then I realized we were in a dark hallway of some sort. The temperature seemed to have increased and it seemed more humid.

At the end of the long hallway, we entered a room. There were pools of reddish light scattered around the room. I heard gasps and cries of anguish. And I heard laughter and rakish remarks over the screams of agony. What pit of hell was this? And why had I been led here?

My balls shriveled and my hole clamped tightly around the plug there.

I trembled as he led me forward to the first pool of light. There in the center of it was a naked man, tied on hands and knees on a table. Someone was working a hand into his ass and he was alternately groaning and crying out. I couldn't tell if it was from pain or pleasure. I couldn't see his face, just his ass being stretched as the man behind him alternately punched his left hand and then his right hand into the hole, sinking up to his wrist with each thrust.

Sir looked over at me to judge my reaction. I think the fear was evident on my face.

He pulled on my leash and led me onto another cluster of men surrounding another pool of light. Screams came from this group. Men parted to let Sir through, and me as well. Once again, men fondled and touched me as I passed, again as if appraising some piece of cattle.

Once we were at the edge of the pool, I could see what was causing the screams. Another man was stretched out on some sort of X arrangement of wood. His arms and legs were attached to each arm of the X. His eyes were blindfolded. He was naked and his cock swelled and leaked across his stomach, yet he screamed with incredible pain.

A blowtorch of some sort was sitting on a table beside the man. A man dressed in black leather pants and a black leather belt across his chest stood there heating something in the flame, and then applying it along the inside of the strapped down man's thighs. Each time he touched the man, the man screamed and a trail of smoke curled up from the leg.

I shook all over as I watched this display. Again, I felt as if Sir was watching my reaction.

I was left to watch a couple more minutes before Sir tugged on my leash and led me on to the next congregation of men. Again, the men parted to let Sir through, with me in tow. In the center of this crowd a man lay on a table. This man was completely encased in plastic wrap. Only his dick, balls, and a straw that led to his mouth was free.

It was obvious that he was completely immobile. His hands were trapped at his sides and his legs were tightly wound together. I heard someone say, "It's been seven hours, can you imagine?"

Seven hours! I couldn't imagine. Then as I watched, someone reached over and dripped hot wax across the man's rigid dick. I heard a whistle through the straw as the man worked to draw breath and obviously let his distress get known. There was nothing he could do as the hot wax was dribbled back and forth across his dick and balls. His dick swelled and oozed, and the breathing sped up through the straw.

I closed my eyes. I couldn't watch. All the while I felt my cock's pain as it tried to swell and expand within the limits in the cage. I whimpered as it betrayed me and wanted to once again seek its own gratification.

I knew he was watching me again, and I struggled to will myself not to respond; not to think this was in anyway sexual or pleasurable.

Once more I trembled at the emotions that played over me, just like these men were having their bodies played.

In a moment, he pulled my leash and I followed. Off in a far corner, I heard sounds of honest moans and groans of what must be honest pleasure.

Again, the sea of men parted. This time I saw leather and denim and flesh along the path to the center.

In the center of this group, a man was on his back in some sort of sling suspended from the ceiling. He was being fucked by a large hairy man. He slammed his dick over and over into the man's ass, pounding away. The man in the sling was moaning and begging to be fucked harder. He was obviously enjoying it. His dick was hard and leaking.

In this group, I heard men talking about the number of men that had fucked this man in the sling. There seemed to be an argument as to whether it was 20 or 21. I wondered if each had been as brutal as this one.

But this scene was really having an affect on me. My ass was clenching and unclenching around the plug in my hole, and I wondered what it would be like if Sir did this to me. What would his cock feel like inside me? Would he be as rough with me? Would I respond the way this man was? Would I moan with pleasure the way this man was?

My dick was aching and, I realized, I was gasping from the pain. I wanted release! I wanted my cock released! I wanted to feel that rush of pleasure that follows the onset of orgasm. I wanted it badly. I couldn't remember how many times I had already cum today, but I wanted this badly!

I whimpered and Sir jerked the chain and said, "Control yourself, boy," in a very authoritative, stern, but quiet voice. I fought to hold my body still. But I had no control over my dick.

I wanted to speak out and beg him to do this to me. I wanted to beg him to fuck me! And when I thought that, I fought the desire. I couldn't want that. What kind of man would that make me if I wanted that?

My downward spiral of humiliation, degradation and debasement, seemed to be increasing in intensity and speed as it seemed to overwhelm me and change me into something I couldn't imagine; something that I would have thought I would never become. Something I would have detested a few days ago.

Tears streamed from my eyes as I clenched my fists so hard I felt the nails biting into the flesh of my palms. And yet my dick swelled and caused its own pain. I moaned again, and then bit my lip to keep it from becoming too audible.

While we stood there, the hairy man announced loudly that he was cumming and was going to shoot it up with all the other hot cum that was flooding the man's intestines. The man in the sling cried out, "Yes, please! Fuck me, harder!" and then he shot his own load across his chest.

The man pumped his ass several more times and then withdrew his massive, thick cock. He wiped off the end of his dick, and then wiped up a gob of cum. He took the finger and stuck it in the mouth of the man in the sling. It was greedily sucked off.

Before the man in the sling could adjust his position, another man had stepped up and jammed his dick into the waiting hole. Again the man in the sling began moaning and begging to be fucked harder. The crowd of men joined in with their own encouragement. "Slam it to him!" "Fuck that man cunt!" "Pound his ass!" "Oh yeah, Man, fuck him!"

I shivered again imagining myself in that position. I watched intently as the man in the sling responded and writhed with pleasure.

When Sir tugged on my leash, I didn't want to go. But the second tug got me moving and I followed him out in a daze. My cock was aching as it tried to expand.

All I could see in my mind was the pleasure that man was experiencing. Then like a computer, the solution jumped up in my head. In each scenario, the man on the receiving end was enjoying it. It was obvious from their cocks that they wanted it. That they craved it.

Was that the way I was? Did I crave this humiliation?

I clicked back with reality and saw that I was walking naked down the street to the car! Oh fuck! I looked around to see if anyone was seeing me. There was someone on the opposite side of the street. They did a double take, and I cringed.

But in only a couple of steps we were at the van. He paused, before opening the door., then reached over and raised my chin until I was looking him in the eye.

"Well, boy?" His eyes moved back and forth between my eyes and my face, studying it. I didn't know what he meant. Had I missed a question in my stupor? I shivered again, swallowed, and licked my lips. I didn't know what he was asking, but I had to ask something and it seemed like this would be my only chance.

"Sir," I swallowed again, willing myself to ask the question I didn't want to hear the answer to, "Sir, would you fuck me?"

He smiled and said, "Good, boy."

Once again that's to Kile and Jere who edit these chapters making them easier to read. However, any mistakes that remain are mine! Comments, suggestions, photos? All welcome harryrod575@yahoo.com

Have fun

harry

Next: Chapter 11: Tom 11


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