The Novice

by Nigel Kent

[Author’s note: although there is a great deal of S/m activity, it does not mean that Vacuum Pumping is S/m related, and nor is it.]

“WHAT A FUCKING LOAD THAT WAS“, he was gasping to himself, “ALL OF THAT PUMPING...YEAH...SHIT MAN...WHAT A FUCKING LOAD“.

His dick still firmly grasped by his right hand as he rolled the generous, almost to the point of being extravagant, thickly creased and fleshy foreskin slowly ever so slowly, back and forth over the tremendously bulbous and now ultra sensitive nob that topped the thick fat shaft, a good six inches from its hilt and not counting the nob, which made it in total a hefty fat seven and a half inches and although now spent and drained still sticking stiff and proud out through his open threadbare, greasy levi flies, YEAH, good'n'fat'n' juicy! Pumped up meat that cock-suckers dream about. YEAH, a real thick stump of a dick, that jutted out more often than not, urgently rampant, these days able to shoot his fucking load at will, at any hour of day or night.

Yeah, his was a beautifully-brutal pumped packet. Pubic hairs trimmed to a stubble because he liked it that way and his low-banging-balls more like thick and roughened rocks, swinging, hairless naked rocks that had been pumped’n’stretched and worked over by countless slaves and other buddies, rocks that had been consistently drained and milked dry of their increasing vast quantities of his precious slimy spunk.

The last few remaining threads of jerking slime seeming to take flight as they were urged out thru his red-hot piss slit. Flinging and falling down lengthwise, down lengthwise down and down his chaps now trickling and almost following previous dry runs of cum, still there, still appearing as if these spunk tracks were in fact almost worn as medals or some type of incredible award of eternal lust.

The first bursts of shooting, fiery slimy spunk still lava-flowing, oozing and coursing and oozing and curling as it flowed, flowing thick and white as always, the sliming-flow now leaving the toe and down over the instep, down thru valleys of rutted worn and creased leather, leather so used just beginning to show slight crackings, crackings filling once again with the slime that was even now seeping and creeping into every stitch, the very stitches that held his favourite boots together.

Only a genuine connoisseur of the boot-licking fraternity would be skillful enough to be able to detect traces of countless tongue licked spittle trails that might be considered to lay in many layers covering the entire surfaces of his boots.

The spunk now settling, and shortly it will crust hard, sticking and staining itself into every available groove and pore of the almost ancient leather, such leather that he had sought out when he had made his first significant and Oh so, unforgettable trip to Spain.

When he went to view the estate of Isabella de San Sadurni y Noya, unfortunately the estate had not come up to his expectations but the incredible bonus of the roaring, near rape-fuck that he had with Juan-Fernando, the youngest son, a boy of twenty three, extremely passive and who was continually and ruthlessly sexually abused by his five older brothers who had totally degraded him and had reduced him to the position of being nothing more than their property, he’d been reduced to being their animal, daily being gang-banged morning and night, constantly being screwed by those five horny buggers, but wait that is another story.

Outside the temperature was already in the high eighties and it was still only just coming up to ten o'clock. The snail-trails of unmistakable spunk slime on his chaps and boots would have been clearly evident to anyone that cared to look and knew not only what to look for but also what to recognize.

The over-sexed fifty four year old ruthless sonofabitch Karlheinz Frederick van Soest the IV who had been a legend in his own time for his wheelings and dealings on the international properties scene, now rather wealthy, retired and considered by some as a genuine sex-maniac and an extremely undesirable social outcast, stood firmly, straight on in front of the chipped and damaged full-length bar-saloon mirror that had seen much better times. His taut and agile body covered from head to foot as it were with heavy beads of sweat.

Ribbons of his abundant slime had also flung across the polished surface of the glass, 'the fucking novice can lick that up later' he thought to himself as he was stuffing his still swollen dick away, attending to his fly buttons and securing his packet, but no matter what he did his tightly packed packet still jutted out over the tight edges of his chaps, sort of looking larger than usual.

'Hmmm, I just can't stop feeling this fucking horny, must be all the pumping that I’m doing or maybe even what I am thinking about this new novice that is arriving today. What the hell is that confounded boy's name?' he pondered, 'Ah yes, Martin, but boy or slave will do just as well, after all it doesn't really matter what the fuck he's called'.

As he threw on his leather jacket he caught a quick glimpse of the chain harness that he had favoured for the last few weeks, almost as though it was some kind of second skin, what a good thing it was, giving him just the right amount of emphasize to his tits. Bluey had been right, "it'll sure make your chest nice” and laughing as he did, had added, “OH YEAH! extra butch, mate", he had said when they had gone thru the catalogue picking out toys for this and that, he hadn't been sure at first but he loved the thing now and it certainly did make him feel very fucking good about himself.

His bulging packet began to stir and then tightened up, hard and firm as it always did, like solid, as though it was made of steel as he straddled his CLASSIC the first and only bike he had ever had, "look after the bugger", he was once told "and it will look after you". The saddle well worn and polished, shining brilliant, as though Japan-lacquered, worn with the friction and grease from his sweaty packet and ass and never easing up always giving him a good stiff dick as he settled and kick-started and coaxed the motor, the throbbing vibration roaring thru his balls churning his slime bag no end. He’d often fantasized that his pumping was turning him into an actual mechanical sex machine and when he sat astride his wheels, it was quite natural, he felt, that his body was becoming like some kinda extension, what with the relentless mechanical sound buzzing his sexual cords, his mind and body, the vibrating motor, yeah, all bursting alive with lust, lust that was so full of power and then there was this fucking domination thing, being a Master, always the TOP never once ever thinking of role reversal, his overwhelming lust, urging his guts and keeping him hot, so fucking hot and bloody horny as hell.

.........................................................

It was just after eleven o'clock when I parked my HOG in that little shade I could find that was afforded by the sparse remains of whatever kind of tree it was and the eight-carriaged-train was just arriving, drawing into the deserted platform, hardly a platform, in fact just regarded as a stationary stop for there was not a building in sight just this kinda wooden construction, very much weather-splintered and ravished over the years by the harshest of weather conditions, an obligatory stop for the few souls that somehow survived out there deep in the heart of that incredible and inhospitable desert of red dust and luckily today, no other person had come to meet up with this train.

I now stood quite alone waiting for my visitor to alight from the train.

Suddenly there he stood, Martin in all his glory, looking surprisingly younger than his 37 years, but apart from looking a little too clean, fucking hell did he look HOT'n'HORNY, very well broken-in engineers boots, and a leather motorcycle jacket, probably American, of which its arms had been torn off and looked as though an entire squad of bikers had pissed on it and the same camouflage pants that he was wearing in the photograph that he had sent in answer to my ad':

[NO NONSENSE FAGGOT DOG SLAVE, 35 - 50 years..... MASTER has vacancy for total sexlife slave.....must be a horny property.....novice-learner OK.....experience not neccessary.....Limits do not exist.....slave's prick must not be less than 5 1/2".....PHOTO A MUST.....write: Box 779832.]

Along the entire length of his right arm was a tattooed snake, swirling and entwined with barbed wire, that I am sure kept the wary at bay and probably guys like me on the edge. 'YEAH, this little bugger was fucking horny alright'.

His old army fatigues, were more than just somewhat grubby and torn here and there and surprisingly with that camouflage pattern, seeming to add a lusty character to the general looseness of the pants, but still enhancing his bulging packet. 'Was it?' I thought to myself 'it's his fucking dick it's bloody stiff, the little bugger, I'll soon teach him when he can have a stiff prick, YEAH'.

There he stood with such an air of arrogance, a stocky guy almost the same height and I thought to myself, 'It'll sure be a great pleasure to beat that shit out of him and put him in his place and keep him there'.

'YEAH, take it good and slow at first, but not too slow, in fact get him into the deep-end as soon as possible and then when I am good'n'ready, go good and hard on him', I thought to myself, 'still, who knows what whim is going to take me over?'

'No luggage, good, he understood that right', I thought as I surveyed my new prize.

As the train came so it went, no fuss, no whistles, just took off and as it gained speed and disappeared straight ahead into the engulfing desert, he started along the platform toward me and I could clearly see that the little fuck was perving his head off on my bulge and who could blame him, my crotch had tightened, knotted hard and throbbing as I perved back on this little fucker, this new slave of mine.

'YEAH, that’s a very good sign, it’s definitely a stiff dick in those pants' and it was sort of slowly banging against his leg as he walked nearer to his future life.

"Ah...hello", he said with surprising hesitation, now not so confident, now that there was clearly no where to run to, now no escape, "Mr. Vansoest?"

"Yes, that’s right boy, you must be Martin, yes, my name is Karlheinz Frederick van Soest the IVth, my friends call me Carl", and stepping up my authority I continued "but from now on you will address me as SIR or MASTER, which ver is fitting. RIGHT boy!!!"

Crisply and without wavering, he answered "YES SIR", as though he had been practicing for many hours.

"Right boy, strip those fucking pants off boy, right here, here on the platform, you won't need pants where you’re going to boy".

Anxiety, excitement and fear flashed across his countenance not really sure of himself now, "Do it boy, and don’t waste anymore fucking time, just rip the fuckers off and kick them over the edge there", which I indicated was the backside of the little platform, "YEAH, that's right into that pile of wasted rubbish down there, it doesn‘t matter".

Harsh’n’eager ripping-tearing sounds cut across the desert’s silence as he obediently demolished his pants, such silence as where no birds sing. Suddenly time stood just for that moment completely still, kicking his pants over the edge with surprising violence, I then ordered him to jump down after them.

This boy now standing in that windswept decaying debris stood vulnerable and waiting, protected only by his boots and what was left of his leather jacket as I now stood over him, wrenching open my flies and hauling my dick out, taking a firm hold on my weapon I began to start pissing, playing my dick like a hose, spraying this fucker, this fucking faggot and pissing my piss, such torrents of hot stinging drenching piss and drenching his body, showering him from head to his boots, and into his boots my hot flooding piss flowed, his gulping, swallowing mouth taking in as much as he could get as I sprayed my piss from his head to his boots, his now sodden boots, his body was saturated and dripping with piss, his sodden stiff prick was violently jerking as I pissed on it, on it and on it I pissed. My filthy pissed slave was standing there drenched I had made him my territory, I had made him my slave, my very own slave, this saturated faggot with his prick standing out, standing out, with his prick sticking out and out, his prick sticking straight out, rampant and naked and almost stark naked, piss-drenched was its cover, its short hairy stubble, of hair, sweating, dripping hair stubble, of short pubic hair, relaying the fact that he had been shaved and not so very long ago this fuck'n little faggot will be stripped of that stubble, he'll be stripped of it bare.

YEAH, his pole of a prick, some six to seven inches long and nicely thick, a thick stick of a prick with its two popping nuts, fucking nuts tight up hard, tight hard to the hilt, the sweating shaft veined, so heavily veined, and now pulsing and throbbing and jerking it was with considerable violence and his fuck'n cut dick-head gleaming and slimy with pre-cum juices, still dripping with piss gleaming naked in the mid-day sun.

As I stowed my dick back into its former greasy packet, I jumped down beside him, my fly-buttons ignored, greasy and gaping, my gut urging up, surging with lust and growing brutality, my rocks tightening harder, tight harder than before, my slime filled balls throbbing my tool, I raised my fist up and brought it down sharp, sharp across that tight ass, and again and another and more and a final good hard smack across his burning red hot ass, leaving the print of my hand as if tattooed and I said, "OK, boy you'll do, get your fuck'n ass to my HOG over there" and without any hesitation whatsoever he sort of bounded not really quite sure of himself right now but coming to a halt and standing alert and to attention by the side of my bike.

"Kneel boy" I commanded as I straddled over and onto my seat.

I reached back and into the right hand saddlebag, 'slave's bag as I thought of it', and pulled out a heavily studded dog collar, expertly slipped it around his neck and snapped the padlock firm, a good tight fit just perfect for this boy-slave of mine.

"OK, get your ass on that pillion boy and keep your fuck'n hands off your prick", I ordered and added "keep your mouth shut and don't talk".

He cocked his leg over like a dog about to piss, his prick still raging stiff, now violently throbbing and jerking against the leather of his seat, his nuts more damp with piss and sweat wedged tight between his naked drying thighs, he seemed now to be beside himself with excitement as I ordered, "Take a good firm grip on my packet boy, pull my dick and balls out, work them good and hold on tight. OK, here we go". A solid kick then the roaring, the sex machine roaring, roaring across THE RED, as Bluey and I refered to the desert, across THE RED like some fucking wild'n'horny beast. YEAH, sixty miles and straight ahead, no roads of course, but tracks going everywhere-nowhere, straight ahead and on and on and on to Bluey's place.

My gut was burning full of lust as we roared ahead, the boy working harder my dick, pumping hard on my pumped dick to a near shooting point, yeah, my dick ramrod burning, a red hot steel-like thing, jutting hard and stiff, straight out thrusting, hard and stiff my fucking dick as the engine roared, my balls now aching full of spunk, thick white slimy spunk.

The bike as though it had a mind of its own now skidding to a halt, 'and we're halfway there' I thought to myself, 'as good a place as anywhere this place here is for dick'.

"Get sucking on my dick you bastard, fuck it with your throat" I barked as I threw him down, the red dust rising now clinging to his still wet skin. I sprawled my legs spread-eagled wide and snapping a lead, pulled hard on his collared head, hard fast, pinioning him onto my stiff and throbbing tool.

"Suck and suck and thrust your head down hard, hard and harder onto it, gag you fucker, gag your life out you fuck'n faggot, suck the fuck'n thing, suck my fuck'n tool dry" and I rammed and rammed my ramrod even deeper down his throat, down deep into this fucker's throat, my balls banging with raging lust, banging hard and heavy, hard-harder under his chin as I thrust and thrust and relentlessly thrust my dick to the hilt, to its thick and solid horny hilt.

"Take it slave, you fuck'n faggot slave, you fuck'n worthless prick sucking Master's dick, you good for nothing faggot, gag your faggot throat sore" and I jammed my nob harder than I did before, thrusting my pulsing throbbing rod of a dick, thrusting the thing, straight up into and down his throat, *rooting him now, rooting him hard and harder, the sweat dripping pouring as I fucked this slave's head, and a sudden last thrust and I held his head firm, locked his head firm and another last thrust into that trapped head, held trapped and tight in my vice-like grip and another last thrust a pummeling thrust, a good fucking root of this fucker's head and another and another last shove my rocks were bursting deep, the screaming roaring force of the flash-flooding shooting, the shooting of my slime burning deep within my groin, and the rushing of the speeding flow, my slime rushing, brushing against every nerve ending, bursting out of my dick's piss-slit, YEAH, shooting right out of my dick deep into that throat, jammed tight in that throat as I shot my load again and again, convulsing and shooting my load down his throat, filling him up right down thru his belly, his slime filled belly, good filled with my piss and now with my spunk and I yanked my dick out.

Cum-drained, I’d shot.

"OK, boy now let's see what you can do" I said as I threw a chain around his booted ankles. My legs fast wide and firmly planted I hauled him up and clicked it to my harness. Upside down the back of his head and shoulders taking his body weight, his pissed and sweaty packet thrusting, such a nice stiff prick with its gleaming nob, urgent and furtive thrusting and fucking the air, his body beginning to thrash about and he grabbed at it urgently, YEAH, urgently grabbing at his throbbing, thrusting jerking dick, thrusting out like that, his nuts now so easily available. "Jack your fuck'n tool boy, you fuck'n little faggot pervert, jack on it as though there’s no tomorrow", I said and spat out a great glob of spit down on to his prick and further down to his open mouth, some trickling down his now filthy sweat-dusted body, using my spit he started to wank, the veins on his tool almost popping with stiffness as I grabbed on his nuts and spat again straight down into his greedy little faggoty mouth. Then a good hard twist and squeezing tight and twisting and twisting and twisting those nuts, his body now thrashing violently, thrashing about, dick-wanking slave just thrashing about, held fast by the chains and another good spit allover his face, his tongue searching out greedy lickings, his lips, with his eyes closed tight, and the jacking on his prick, his prick jutting out straight and fucking the air as he worked at it now, his whole body jerking and my squeezing his nuts tight and harder than before, then I punched his ball bag and I punched it and punched it and slapped them about with this thrashing little faggot, this little bugger of mine jacking his tool harder now, hard-harder and another great spit-glob on his dick nob, the slippery fatness being worked and worked his jerking spasms more violent now and I smacked at his thighs over and over I smacked at his thighs red hot, those nuts bouncing and banging about as he writhed, his taught body all covered in sweat and piss and spit and dust, the filthy little bugger now looking like shit, the burning lust deep-seated and dark growing as he wanked and the wanking continued as I fisted his nuts and gave them a good pummeling and punching his bag, those nuts filling hard filling hard to the core, his slime building up and setting to roar right out of his slave-prick, grinding and groaning all manner of pain burning his nuts and working into his mind, the fuck'n little faggot getting ready to shoot his load, beginning to scream as any man should, with roaring burning tension bursting from his balls and the rushing beginning to dash thru his wanked prick, his shooting of slime juices and thick heavy cum shooting out and way out and down on his face and some straight into his mouth, his eager waiting open mouth and the gobbling beginnings as he swallowed his slime and he shot another wad, and another and another, some trickling down, falling down now creeping, down over his sweat ravished body the last oozings-out dribbling over his body as I grabbed on my dick and began to piss, piss into his mouth down straight over his body and into his greedy swallowing mouth.

"Come on now boy, keep hold of that fuck'n prick of yours and piss down over yourself" and obediently his face began to grimace as he struggled to piss to order.

"That's right boy let your piss go, mingle your piss with mine boy, you know you want to", his face began to redden as he struggled with the task, my waterfalling pourings of piss was encouragement enough and for sure he began to piss, the two streams of piss now becoming one torrential downpour, down, falling down and now straight into his gulping gagging mouth, the splattering piss gurgling out and over his face but much of it he was swallowing greedily, my piss mixed with this faggot's in torrents pouring out of our two dicks pissing hard and now at full flow, we pissed and pissed over this fuck'n slave of mine who had shot his load and swallowed down mine.

"Keep pissing straight into your mouth boy, YEAH, that's right into your mouth and swallow it down" as I played my stream over his body and saturating his jacket and I thought to myself 'Blue is going to love this little filthy bastard covered in piss and slime and sweat and desert dust' and his tensions were now easing as we pissed our last few drops more, and he’d settled his score with himself, had become aware that his slavery was at last taken for real, perverted sex was his life and that was all that there was for him in store and he soon realised that he would be taken further than ever before. I knew this little faggot bugger will always want more and more and I'm ready to give him more and he will answer to my every whim.

"OK, you little faggot get up on your feet" and I pulled on his lead and we set off as before and on to Bluey's place.

"You look like shit boy and you're looking pretty good'n'fitting, just right for your first visit you filthy little bastard, YEAH, your first visit to Blue's HELL HOLE".

[Bluey's place stood back about a half a mile from the major highway, which was not really a road, more of a well-worn track, desert trains of enormous trucks went thru from the south, roughly one sometimes two times every six weeks and only stopping when essential deliveries of the usual necessities and provisions were expected, otherwise there were no unexpected visitors of any kind.

His nearest neighbours, an encampment bossed-over by a guy called Clancey, some thirty miles distant, of all male greaser-bikers, fluctuating in numbers between ten, twelve, twenty or so, and kept themselves to themselves only coming to Blue when they wanted something or other doing to their bikes.

When I established my place it was arranged that he would take in my goods as well so in fact there was little or no hassle and we both had rather ideal situations for our extraordinary needs, originally Bluey had been my landlord but that had altered some time back when I bought half the property, which seemed a very good thing as we were like two peas in a pod and shared almost everything that came our way, but maybe more of that later.]

A conglomeration of various buildings and outhouses came into view, at first looking like some odd science fiction landscape caused by the effect of the usual mirage, sharpening up as we drew closer and the major building off to the left was the one that I directed my front wheel towards.

Carelessly emblazened with the motif HELL HOLE, [at some point in time someone had scratched across it “BEAR'S LAIR, YEAH“, and somebody else had added “ROOTER'S HOLE, YEAH“], YEAH, and I guess he was right considering the sort of things that went on in there, but at this moment all was orderly, the usual jumble of three and a half motor bikes in the foreground, [he was always fixing one of them], and just a little further away there it stood in a sort of corrugated iron lean-to, almost aloof, proudly stood his CHOPPER that he had had shipped from the States, carefully protected in its tarpaulin wrappings, hidden, gleaming and waxed and I always thought to myself 'what kind of a person he would be if he treated his slaves as he treats his chopper' and thank God he's not, I like the rough bugger and I love the fucking bastard with all his faults.

He had of course expected me and had heard my engine’s roarings as I drove up.

The gauze-wire fly-door crashed as he came out looking more like a horny wild and woolly bear than ever before, wearing only boots and the filthiest of oil-stained jeans, secured by a very wide black leather belt and buttoned only at the waist, his flies gaping wide, slightly revealing his pumped and horny dick, which sorta hung turgid fat and near to stiff as usual, almost buried deep inside great tanglings of oily, curling, sort of swirling coarse black pubic hairs. His balls looking more like rocks than ever banged away down inside his left leg as he strode toward us.

The matted greasy hairs that covered the whole of his chest drenched with sweat, in fact he was bloody dripping with sweat making the very large tattooed skull peering thru that heavy matt of super-FUZZ appear as though it was drowning.

Groping himself good and proper as is his usual way, he said "Hi Carl baby", as he strode toward me and I parked my wheels, [he called me baby as I was one year younger than him] and then he continued "I see you've brought me a present" and rubbing his hands roughly up and down and along the shaft of his dick in his familiar way, he added "you little beauty".

"Oh mate, do you wish, dream on mate", rapidly continuing "No not this time you bastard, this here is for MY DICK mate, perhaps I'll share it with you one of these days, who knows, but at any rate, much, much later" and I continued "How's the grub, I'm starving?" and not quite as an afterthought, I added "It's name is Martin,

well it used to be known as Martin, but boy it is from now on".

[Bluey's story is that he was an only son. Called Bluey, because by a freak of nature that his moustache was a brilliant red colour, the rest of his plentiful hirsute growth was a rather solid black, even now at the age of fiftyfive there was not a grey hair in sight and of course he was very proud of this. At the age of sixteen he was caught in the act of fucking one of the cow-hands, both of them stark naked apart from their boots, his dick deeply embedded to the hilt and rooting like fucking crazy down by the creek and a jealous foreman caught them good, hard and at it and he was promptly kicked off the family cattle farm 'WATTLE CREEK' by his over-zealous puritanical parents, who then immediately sent him off to Europe to get over any idea that he might be homosexual. He fell in with the rough gay community, learnt about the S/m world and took to it like a fish out of water. While still in Europe he learnt of the sudden death of both of his parents which made him their sole heir. He sold up 'WATTLE CREEK', bummed around Europe further where he became not only notorious but quite a STAR in the growing leather community and then returned and bought the isolated property that he now shared with Carl].

“Rabbit stew and Damper" he answered "and lovely cold beer of course" his hand reaching out to take mine as is the custom as I was just getting off my bike and his eyes didn't falter as they fell straight onto boy's naked’n’filthy, dust covered, sweaty, piss-covered body and of course his nervously throbbing, jerking, semi-stiff of a prick.

I savagely took hold of my slave's prick and nuts good'n'hard and snapped a large padlock around it serving as a very secure cockring and yanked him by his lead across the forecourt at the same time ripping open my flies and hauling my dick and balls out.

'There was absolutely nothing shy about Blue, no man, he wasn’t a guy that would want to be left out of any fuck'n game', I thought to myself as he yanked more than pulled at his recently pumped, impressively fat but still greasy tool, his reclaimed loosely-curling bloated foreskin, giving his dick the appearance of a fat'n'heavy snouted hose and leaving his bull-balls that looked more like huge, YEAH, massive rocks still banging and bulging down inside his pants and so into the house the three of us, two Masters and this new novice entering the HELL-HOLE with our lust-ridden’n’throbbing dicks.

Adjusting one's eyesight is always a problem out here in the ‘back of beyond‘, in from the glaring sunlight into the darkened rooms, slowly shadows started to form themselves into odd bits and things, tables and chairs, now all was familiar, well, almost all.

The ambience here was heavy, almost oppressive, the constant dry heat of the desert mingled with the overpowering stench of recycled motoroil and heady male sexuality, YEAH, man, if you didn't feel horny before you entered, it certainly wouldn't be long before you were, the total masculinity of it all was like almost being, just too much.

As usual in the middle of the room stood our two,

you could say, throne like chairs, identical in every aspect, except that now Bruno, Blue's new slave, a stranger to me, was crouching and he was attached to one of them by a heavy chain that went from the thick wooden stretcher of the chair to his dog collar, his battered and bruised prick, swollen-fat and was of course pump-stretched, sticking out almost obscenely thru a roughly torn hole in his filthy, greasy jockstrap, a second jock' even more oily and greasy was sort of tangled with his collar around his neck and apart from his boots the rest of his body was naked, tattoos covering his back, arms and chest and a heavy stainless steel chain swung from two rather heavy padlocks, swinging and pulling at his pierced, fat and swollen tits, red-hot-raw and even more raw they burned and stretched with every slight movement, the thick hasps of the padlocks passing thru deeply, thru the base of the tits making them into huge pronounced and impressive mounds of ultra-sensitive erogenous flesh, tits red and sort of glowing, tits that just could not be ignored and had to be worked on and over and over and not only were these piercings new to this slave's body. His ass was also good and red and had clearly not only been good and properly rooted but showed signs of what must have been quite a heavy beating session.

On his right shoulder he had been deeply branded with the letter B set in a triangle and this too seemed to glow bright and almost as if the scarred flesh was still smouldering.

YEAH, Blue had rubbed dark black ashes deep and ground them into the wounds, this slave was definitely permanent property alright.

"OK, you boy", Blue said as he released Bruno's lead, "Go get us some beers and be sharp about it boy", then turning to me, immediately as we settled ourselves in our chairs "do you want to shove your dick into my boy's throat man?" and continued, "He'll take it to the hilt and keep it in for as long as you like...just as you showed me how to train slaves to service...YEAH...of course he'll just gag from time to time but that doesn't matter...so you want a go mate?...He could do with a good rooting from a guy like you mate...what'd'ya'say mate?"

This offer of Blue's was a sort of pride that he had, wanting to share his slave like this was typical, but of course all the time he also was wanting to root the ass off of my new boy who I had already secured to my chair and had rammed his head deep between my legs pinioning him onto my dick to the hilt and holding it there firm and definitely fast, jammed good and tight and slowly sucking and swallowing dick-head deep into his throat, stretching his throat and learning his new Master's dick good and proper.

Although there were four of us Bruno returned with only two large bottles of ice cold beer, the only beer that these slaves got was recycled thru our dick’s, yeah, our piss and one thing was for sure they never went thirsty.

TO BE CONTINUED...