"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."
He opened the door, but didn't tell me to get in, so I stood there next to the van, naked save for the plastic cage around my cock. I didn't even know where my clothes were. And then I realized it didn't matter any more. Sir controlled what I wore, if anything.
As we stood there, a couple walked by, both taking in my naked form; looking me up and down, and then the woman leaned into the man and began to whisper something. They kept walking and my humiliation increased as I imagined what they were saying about this shaved, naked, caged cock guy standing out on a public street. I lowered my head and felt my emotions overwhelming me again.
Had I just asked a man to fuck me? What was wrong with me that I would want such a thing? I trembled and wondered at how much I had changed; that I would even consider such a prospect. Was my debasement and humiliation complete? Had I reached the lowest point in asking him to stick his dick in me? My stomach clinched and churned and I thought I was going to be sick.
He let me stand there lost in thought for several minutes; I am not sure how long. Maybe he knew what was going through my mind. He seemed to know how I would respond to most situations; maybe he was letting me mind fuck myself after confessing my desire to him.
"Get in the van, boy," he instructed, and I climbed in and sat in the center of the bench seat as I had been instructed before.
He left the door open again for some time as I sat there still processing all that had just happened. Others walked by while I sat there. I shivered again as this fact seeped into my brain.
Finally, he closed the door, opened and climbed into the driver's seat. He didn't look at me at all. He started the van and began driving. He drove for a bit and then pulled into another parking lot. I hadn't registered the streets or turns that we had taken. My mind still swirled on the images of what I had seen and the thoughts and desires I was having as a result of them.
Would I really want him to brand me? Would I desire something like that? Could I stand being bound and restrained like the man in the plastic wrap? Would that turn me on? Or would I do it because he asked me to? Or would I have a choice? Would he just do it to me? And would he do it while I was on display like these men had been?
He got out, closed his door, opened mine, and told me to get out. I climbed out of the van, once again aware that I was naked in a public place. I stood with my head lowered, trembling until he handed me something and said, "Put this on." It was a very baggy pair of shorts. I had no need to unbutton or unzip them to get them on. They barely sat on my hips without falling down. I was going to hold on to them so I didn't lose them while walking.
Then he handed me a t-shirt to put on. It was short and wouldn't have met the waist of the shorts, even if they were up where they were supposed to be. I pulled it on and he put down a pair of slippers on the ground and told me to step into them.
Once I was "dressed", he closed the door and told me to follow him. We went into some kind of diner. It seemed to be populated by truckers and tough looking characters.
We were seated in a booth near the back of the place. There were 4 guys in the booth across the aisle. They were drinking beer, talking and laughing. They had scruffy beards, greasy hair, and stained denim jeans and shirts.
The waitress handed me a menu, but Sir took it away from me and she just shrugged.
She came back and he placed an order. I didn't hear because I was trying to figure out what was going on; why were we here?
"Pull down your shorts, boy," he said in his usual even toned voice.
My jaw clenched and my hands shook as I reached to the waist of the shorts, lifted my butt a bit, and pushed them down. They were still on top of my knees, but my crotch was completely exposed if anyone looked over.
"Turn a bit and face towards the men seated across from us, boy," he instructed.
I swallowed the emotion that threatened to overwhelm me, and twisted in my seat, my butt sticking slightly to the vinyl seats. I had my head down, as I didn't want to make eye contact with any of the men should they look over and see me.
Then I heard, "Would you look at that. He's got some kind of cage around his prick and he's sittin' there with it hangin' out!"
I went red as the laughter from all four men increased. "Why you got that thing on your pecker? You play with it too much?"
If possible, I blushed ever redder. "Boy, tell the man why you are wearing it," Sir said evenly.
I started to say something but had to clear my throat so I could speak. I tried to keep my voice even and audible. "Because my master put it on me," I managed.
"Tell them why I put it on you, boy." I heard comments about, `did you hear him call him, boy?' with more laughter.
"He put it on me, because I couldn't control myself," I said, looking at the table.
"Couldn't keep from spankin' the monkey!" and they all laughed at one man's comment.
"When do you get to take it off?" one of them asked.
"When he says I can," I answered again. Then I realized I hadn't been told by Sir to respond to the question. I wondered what my punishment would be.
Sir handed me a key and said, "Take it off, boy."
My hand shook as I took the small key. The guys continued to laugh and make comments, as I worked on the lock and finally managed to get it open. The guys were first quiet as they watched what I was doing, but then began to laugh as I struggled to get my swelling cock, along with my balls, out through the ring that made the back of the device.
Just as I thought I was going to rip my balls off, I managed to get it off, to much laughter from the guys. And at that moment the waitress showed up and set down a small glass of water in front of me. She saw my nakedness, made a tisking sound, sat down a drink in front of Sir, and then left shaking her head.
I wondered if she was going to call the cops or something.
My cock swelled at my humiliation and predicament. "Drink your water, boy," Sir directed.
"Yes, Sir," I said.
"He called him sir. He must be the boys master!" More laughter.
It didn't take long to finish the small glass of water, but I was still thirsty. My mouth was dry and I felt heat washing up my face as the guys in the booth across the way continued to make lewd comments.
Sir turned to the guys and asked, "My boy is still thirsty. Would any of you gentlemen be able to fill up his glass?"
For a moment, there was silence from the table; then they started laughing. One guy got up, grabbed the glass, and headed into the men's room that was just a booth away from us.
He came back in moments, laughing. He put down the glass in front of me. I could smell the odor of urine and it was dark yellow in color. He backed into the booth and watched, while the others laughed. He said, "I could have filled it up several times for him." There was more laughter.
Sir said to me, "Drink up, boy." Then he turned to the man and said, "I guess I will have to give you and your friends a bigger glass next time." They laughed and gave a thumbs up. Then they watched with interest to see what I would do.
Without looking at them, keeping my gaze fixed on the table in front of me, I lifted the glass. The smell was even more powerful as I brought it to my lips. I took a sip and the strong, bitter, salty taste filled my mouth. I fought my gag reflex as I heard one say, "I'll be damned! He's drinking it, just because that guy told him to."
I felt a tear run down my face as I tipped the glass up and swallowed the contents of the glass as fast as I could. I set it down on the table and continued to stare at the table.
"Want us to fill it up again?" I heard.
"Yes, that would be wonderful, but would you mind using one of your larger glasses?" Sir asked.
"Sure," said the guy next to the outside, who hadn't gone the last time. I heard the tumble of ice as they obviously emptied a glass. I could see the man move out and stand. He seemed to have a large beer gut. He swaggered back to the men's room and returned moments later, zipping up his jeans. He set the glass down in front of me with a thump, spilling a bit over the edge.
A waiter chose that moment to show up. He must have looked at me because he said, "Irma, thought it might be better if I took over your table." I wondered if this meant he was gay, or that, just because he was a man, he could deal with the guy exposing himself. I was mortified. I wondered if this meant they weren't calling the police. Did Sir bring all of his boys here?
"Now, you are drinking water?" I heard his voice become louder, as if he was facing me.
"No, he has switched to apple juice," Sir said with his even tone. "Drink up, boy," he instructed.
"Yes, Sir," I said, and lifted the larger glass up to my lips. Once again, the strong smell of urine hit me. This wasn't as dark as the other one, but one sip told me it was as strong and as bitter as the other one.
This one took several swallows to finish and I was trying to get it down as fast as possible, and not think about what I was doing. I set the glass down and listened as the men made more comments about how they never saw a guy do that. And "What kind of guy would do that just cause someone told him to. Oh, and look, he's getting hard; he must like this."
My shame washed over me and I sank a bit lower in the seat. I was on display in a public place. And to make matters worse, I heard the waiter say, "Well, yes, I can certainly see that he likes his apple juice." He paused, and then added, "I hope he likes his meal just as much." Then I saw him move off.
I had forgotten about him being there, in addition to the men.
"What else can you get him to do?" one of the men asked Sir.
He didn't respond immediately, but then said, "Anything I tell him to," in his same even tone.
"Nah, no man would let another man control him like that. Why he wouldn't be a man if he let someone do that to him." He thought for a moment and then asked, "Is there something wrong with him? Is that why he has no hair anywhere down there?" He paused, and then added, "Or is he mental or something and you just keep him around for shit and grins?"
"He is doing this of his own free will. There is nothing wrong with him physically. He shaves himself as a sign of his submission to me. And no, his mental faculties are intact. He chose to do this, and yes, as you can see, it does seem to have some sexual affect on him."
I fought to control my emotions as Sir explained my circumstances to these men.
"Make him do something else," one of them called out.
"Now, he is not some trained monkey to perform for your whims. But I do believe a demonstration of his willingness to comply might convince you of what I say," Sir said, and I gritted my teeth and tried to keep the shakes under control that threatened to over take me.
"Boy, let your shorts drop to the floor." I reached down and pushed them over my knees until they dropped to the floor. "Now, kick them over here, boy." And I did as he said. I was now totally naked and exposed from the waist down, with no way to quickly cover myself.
I heard drawn breaths, as the guys looked on in astonishment. "Now, take off your shirt, boy." My hands shook as I pulled the shirt over my head.
"Look at those rings in his nipples! Can you believe that? And there he sits completely naked in a public restaurant!," came from the booth across the way. My face suffused with heat again, and I knew, that despite all of this, my cock was rock hard.
"Get up and walk to the men's room, boy," Sir said evenly. I closed my eyes, clinched my jaw, and slid out of the booth. I turned quickly, keeping my hard cock from the view of the majority of the diner. I walked into the men's room and stood there. Tears rolled down my face.
Why was he doing this to me? I had just asked him what I thought he wanted to hear. I had lowered myself and asked him to fuck me, and this was the way he responded. Had I done something wrong?
The door to the men's room opened and a man walked in. It must have been one of the men from the booth, because he said, "That guy out there said I was to give you some instructions." He paused to see if I would say anything.
When I didn't say anything, he said, "Get down on your knees, boy." When he said boy, I heard the demeaning nature of his voice. I knelt there in front of him.
"Damn, you did it." I looked at the floor. I heard a zipper. "Well, here goes." Then I felt the warmth of his piss wash over me. He was pissing on me, making sure he got as much of me as possible. He washed over my head and face, and then across my chest. As he was peeing, I heard the door open and someone walk in. I cringed.
"That's fucked up! He's kneeling there letting you piss on him! I couldn't believe it, so I had to come in and see for myself," I heard. That made me wonder if more men would walk in on this scene. The guy finished off his stream by pissing on my hard cock.
The other guy stood near me, and I heard another zipper and then felt the heat of his urine as he, too, coated me. He laughed as he played the stream over me as much as possible.
When he finished he said, "Bend down and put your face on the floor." I did as he instructed, hoping these were the instructions that Sir had given him.
As I bent, I saw them move behind me. "Damn! He does have something shoved up his hole!"
"No shit?" the other one said, moving around to see. "This is one fucked up dude." He paused, and then said, "Lick up some of that piss from the floor, boy."
I stuck out my tongue and lapped up a bit of the puddle. They laughed mockingly again.
"Now rise up here and lick this," one of them said. I rose up and saw a dick sticking out of a zipper in front of my face.
I looked up at him and saw the smirk on his face. I felt I could look at him, since he wasn't Sir, but I wished I hadn't because the look on his face hurt me. I looked back to his cock and stuck out my tongue and licked the head of his cock, capturing a drop of piss that clung there.
"A fucking cocksucker! Can you believe this?" he asked his friend. He moved his foot around and put it between my stomach and my cock, and then pushed it down to the floor. I adjusted my position, trying to relieve the pain, until he had trapped my cock on the floor beneath his work boots.
"Now suck it good, you pervert, and fuck yourself with whatever that is in your hole. And if I feel any teeth, then I will crush your dick and balls." He leaned in and put pressure on my dick. I groaned, and opened my mouth. He pushed his dick in, and soon it swelled in size.
He gripped my head and began to fuck my face. He stepped down on my cock, and I remembered I was supposed to be fucking myself. I reached back, grabbed the plug in my ass ,and began to move it in and out. I moaned around his cock.
The door opened again, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shut out the sight of someone else seeing me like this. It must have been the other two guys, because I heard, "You really got him doing it! I don't fucking believe it; a naked cocksucker right here in the men's room."
The guy in front of me stepped down again on my dick, crushing my balls beneath my dick. I groaned around his cock, and he laughed. "He loves it! Fucking, low-life, cocksucker!" He laughed again and said, "A naked cocksucker! And he's fucking himself with whatever that is he has in his ass."
The room filled with laughter. The door opened again, and I heard, "What the fuck?" I tried to look towards the door, and saw a young guy standing there with his mouth open. "This is fucking perverted; right here a public restroom." He turned towards the door and added, "I am getting the manager."
My heart pounded, and I thought I was going to throw up. The guy kept fucking my face, and I could only focus on not gagging. Tears were streaming down my face, but my cock was hard, as he kept pressing it into the filthy linoleum of the bathroom.
The door opened again and I thought it was the young blond guy leaving, but I heard, "Just cool it little man; this dude is just following instructions. He gets off on it, and everyone in here is consenting, and you can just be an observer and get your meal comped, or you can go blabbing all over the place and I'll have to tell the police, 'the guy turned you down; so you got mad.'"
I heard the kid say, "Well, I..."
The door banged open and I heard, "Boy, get up!"
I pulled myself off of the guy's cock, and rose up. I saw the guys looking at me, and swallowed the emotions that once again rose up in me. Sir said, "I gave no instructions for him to fuck himself, or for him to give fellatio to anyone," he spoke forcefully.
There was silence in the room. "Boy, I don't give you away lightly, and you should know this. We will discuss your punishment at a later time." He looked around the room and saw the men, the young man, and the waiter.
He smiled then - it was a restrained smile - and said, "But I sent the waiter in here to get some cream for your coffee. So, boy, would you be so kind as to provide some cream to the waiter."
I guess I was struck dumb, because I had no idea what he meant. I looked around at the guys, and saw the looks on their faces. The four men were leering, the waiter was smiling, holding out a cup of coffee, and the young man just stood there with his mouth open, looking me up and down. My cock was still rock hard, but had some dirt from the bottom of the guy's boot, where he had pressed it down.
Seeing the waiter holding out the cup of coffee, it dawned on me what Sir meant for me to do. I started to raise my head to look at him, but caught myself. I knew it wouldn't take much for me to shoot, I was so turned on. But I didn't understand yet, why this affected me so.
I brushed my dick off, and then gripped it firmly and stroked it. "The fucking guy is going to jerk off right here in front of us just `cause this guy told him to. Can you fucking believe that?" I looked over to see the group of guys punching each other's arms, pointing at me and laughing. I looked at the young man, and he was now focused on my cock, with his mouth still open.
"Tell them, boy," he emphasized `boy', "why you do what I tell you to do," Sir said in his expressionless voice.
I swallowed and felt my emotions tumbling again. I closed my eyes for a second to get my mind around this. "I, ah, he is my master. I, ah, belong to him. He can use me as he wants to, wherever he wants to, whenever he wants to." I thought for a moment; "It is a pleasure for me to serve him," I finished, and swallowed again.
If I didn't keep connecting back to reality, this wouldn't be so bad. I might just think that I was dreaming, or something, and wake up. My cock, and the feelings it was experiencing; my mind rolling in this exhibitionist situation; and my eyes seeing the reactions of the men around me caused me to move closer to the precipice of climax.
I gasped and then moaned, and I felt it beginning to overwhelm me. I think they all sensed it. I heard, "Stop, boy!" and it took a millisecond for it to register that Sir had said that. I let go of my dick and stood there shaking and panting. I was so close! Don't stop now! Please! My mind begged.
"Un-fucking-believable!" one of the guy's said. "He stopped, and I know he was close. I would never be able to stop."
Sir said, "My boy is learning fast. He knows that if he doesn't obey, he will be punished." Sir paused, and then asked me, "What did you tell me you wanted before we came here, boy?"
Again, it took a moment to process what Sir was saying. My brain was still foggy and filled with lust. "I, ah, asked you, Sir," and I swallowed again, "I asked you, Sir, if you would fuck me." I hung my head, but my cock swelled.
I heard the guy's gasping and then poking each other. I heard "faggot," intermixed with their comments between themselves.
"It blows my fucking mind that a guy would ask another guy to fuck him. I mean, can you imagine the humiliation of having some guy's dick up your ass? Then he has the balls to say that in front of us. This is one fucked up dude," the one man, who seemed to be the spokesman for the group, said. He was the one who had me sucking his cock.
I wondered what he would really think about it, if he had a thick hot cock up his ass. Maybe he was just envious. I smiled to myself.
"You may cum now, boy," Sir said, and I sighed, closed my eyes, and gripped my cock. "No, boy, don't close your eyes. I want you to look these men in the eye when you cum. I want them to see you having pleasure at pounding your meat in front of them, and getting off for them, and because of them."
I shivered, opened my eyes, and looked each man in the face as I began to stroke again. Something had to be fucked up in my head, cross wired or something; because this was making me hornier and making my cock drip.
When I got to the young man, he looked me in the eyes, and then lowered his gaze. At first I thought it was because he was embarrassed for me and my humiliation, but then I saw that he was looking at my cock. I corrected myself; my shaved, naked crotch, naked in a public men's room cock.
I gasped, clinched my teeth, and pumped furiously on my dick; I felt it washing up and over me.
I groaned, and gripped my balls as I began to shoot load after load. I looked down and saw that the waiter was holding a cup out to catch the shots. I stood there panting through clinched teeth as I milked my cock for every bit of cum.
Once through the fog of lust, reality came flooding back, and I wanted to roll into a ball and hide. "Well, boy, what do you have to say?"
I looked over to his shoes and said, "Thank you, Sir, for allowing me to cum."
I heard mumbling, and looked over at the guys and saw them shaking their heads in disbelief.
"Okay, show is over, gentlemen; you can return to your seats," Sir said with an air of authority. The four men filed out; then the waiter. The young man just stood there. "Didn't you hear me young man? Go back to your seat; the show is over."
The poor young man was flummoxed, and stammered out, "I have to pee." He sounded so confused.
"Then do not let us stop you, young man." Sir watched as the man shook his head, as if to clear it, and moved over to the urinals. "Do you have to urinate, boy?"
I started to nod, but then said, "Yes, Sir."
"Then be quick about it, boy." I was catching on to the fact that he used `boy' in every sentence to me. Was it to constantly remind me of my commitment; my position?
I turned and walked up next to the man at the urinal. I could tell he was having difficulty getting started with me standing next to him. I knew that feeling very well. I closed my eyes and focused on the task, and soon began pissing. In a moment, I heard him going as well.
"Young man, you seem awfully interested in my boy. Would you like to be treated this way? Would you like to be a boy?" Sir asked in a low voice that seemed to bounce off the walls of the bathroom.
The man blushed as he stuffed his cock back into his jeans and zipped up. He kept his head lowered as he did this, and as he moved to pass around Sir, on the way back to the diner.
"If you change your mind, young man, here is my card. Or would you rather spend some time talking with my boy about what it means to be a boy?" Sir seemed to be trying to read the young man's indecision.
"I can tell you have some questions. Why don't you contact me in a half an hour. I will have you over and you can spend some time asking questions of me or my boy." Sir had moved over until he had his arm on the shoulder of the young man, as if he was comforting him, or explaining something complex.
The man blushed, nodded, and headed towards the door. He pushed through quickly.
"Okay, boy, let's go back to our booth," Sir said, pushing on my back, directing me to the door.
I didn't balk but it hit me once again that we were in a public place, and that on the other side of that door was the real world with real people who might have different opinions of a naked man walking around in the diner. I trembled as I put my hand on the door to push it open.
"Stop, boy. That was very good of you, boy; no hesitation. Good discipline. But put these on, boy." He handed me my shorts and t-shirt. I still had to hold up the shorts so they wouldn't fall off, but my heart raced with thanks as I clamored to get into them. I guess my slippers were still under the table. But that didn't matter to me as much as having clothes on.
Tears of relief flowed down my face as I pushed through the door and then slid into our booth. A cup of coffee was sitting in front of me and a small salad. I thought at first the dressing was ranch or something, but after Sir told me to eat, I realized it was cum. Was this the waiter's or someone else's?
After my first bite of salad, I took a sip of the coffee, and realized that this is the cup that had caught my cum. "Stir it up, boy," Sir said.
I used a spoon and stirred it. I saw the strings of cum swirling around. I looked around and saw another large glass full of amber liquid. Sir must have seen my glance, because he said, "Yes, boy, more apple juice for you. You will finish the juice, your coffee, and the salad, boy."
"Yes, Sir," I said automatically, to the laughter of the men at the booth across the way. They were gathering their coats and leaving.
"Thanks for the demonstration, mister. I wouldn't have believed it unless I had seen it," one of them said.
"I am glad my boy could provide some entertainment for you and your friends." I listened closely as I thought I detected a bit of distain in his voice.
Nothing was said for a while as I ate and drank my portion. I could smell Sir's plate of steak, potatoes, and broccoli that sat across from the table from me. It smelled so wonderful! Even though I was eating, my stomach rumbled. Then I wondered if I was going to throw up with all the piss I had drunk and stuff that had gone on.
I finished up and then waited as Sir finished his dinner. Several times the waiter had stopped by to check on our meal. He especially wanted to know how I liked the house dressing and the special apple juice. Sir told me to tell him how much I enjoyed it.
As I told him, I noticed that the booth across the way became occupied with a young couple. She reached across the table and held his hand. In my mind's eye I saw him naked and fucking her. I imagined his butt going up and down as he impaled her. I saw his thick thatch of pubic hair as it met with hers.
Then the image slipped and I saw him pumping my ass as I bent over the table. He was holding my shoulders down and pushing hard into my ass. I could see the concave flex of his ass as he did this.
I closed my eyes and shook myself. Sir must have seen something, because he chuckled.
"Come on, boy, let's get you home so you can be there when the young man calls. I think he is going to want to find out more about you. There was just something in the way he looked at you and what you were doing. I am seldom wrong on this."
He paused, and then added, "Let's have a little wager. If he shows up tonight, then I will fuck you tonight. If he doesn't, then you have wait until tomorrow." I swear he chuckled again. "Yes, boy, I think that is a good wager. Don't you think, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," was all I could say. I mean, I had asked him to fuck me. I was torn between the wanting and the action. I wanted to experience it, but I was afraid of what it said about me, and what it would do to me; do to me both physically and mentally.
All the way back to the van, I thought about this. What kind of guy asks for that? What did that make me? But then I had no choice. I knew he was going to do it to me anyway, so why not get it over with. Then I wondered what would happen to my hole if he fucked me. Would I be able to take it? I squeezed my hole tightly around the plug in my ass. Would it feel the same?
I came out of my reverie when we reached the van. We were standing beside it. I expected him to unlock the doors and have me get in. Instead he said, "Strip, boy."
I closed my eyes and tried to see the images in my mind of the surroundings. Had we passed any people on the way here? Were there people standing on the sidewalk nearby? I pulled my t-shirt off while I tried to process the images in my mind. Then I let my shorts drop. I picked them up as I was supposed to do. I stood there with them at my side and my cock rising.
I shuddered again as I pictured myself, as if looking at the scene from a camera about 10 feet away. I saw a man standing naked on a public street, next to a van, because someone had told him to. Man was I fucked up!
Thank you for your patience. As always comments, suggestions and photos are always welcome. Harryrod575@yahoo.com
have fun
harry