A kinky story written by Max Potter | Chapter 6 of 11
“Get started on my dinner, slave. Since you’ll have more on your schedule, I’ll expect you to plan better so I don’t have to wait.”
“Yes, Master.” I was too broken to argue. I crawled to the kitchen to start making dinner.
I was standing as ordered while he ate, me wearing the stupid Chippendale cuffs. Chris looked at me. “Each day after work you will follow Mike home. He’ll tutor you on how to give good head. You had better take his lessons to heart, I expect to see improvement. Do whatever he says, including any homework he gives you. He has full authority to punish you for any infraction. You will need to maintain your gym schedule after your lessons. Plus, you’ll have to plan my dinner so when you get here I’m not waiting on your sorry ass.”
“Yes, Master. But every day? Can’t I get some sort of break?” At this point, I just wanted less dick going into me.
“Fuck, no. I’ve waited too long already. I’ll tell you what, if this doesn’t work, I’ll drag you down to a glory hole and leave you there sucking cock until you get it right. Now shut up.”
I couldn’t respond. In fact, I couldn’t say anything for the rest of the night. I had been ordered to shut up, so I couldn’t even make my now-usual “Yes, Master.” replies.
Chris went to bed early, fucked me, and we both fell asleep. I had nightmares of being stuck in a stinking hole with cocks coming out of the walls all over the place. As I moved to suck one, it disappeared. I was disturbed when ordered to worship his cock again in the morning, still unable to speak.
When Chris finished his breakfast, he pushed back the chair and watched me suck his toes for a few minutes. Then he started moving his foot to the side, I followed for a few inches, then started for his other foot. “Nope, stay sucking that one.” My mouth dove back to the foot it had just left. He kept moving it forcing me to scramble to keep it in my mouth.
Then he stood up and began to back away, causing me to crawl after him. He laughed and kept moving. After crossing the kitchen he turned around, took a step and said “Switch feet.” I did. He kept moving around. After a few minutes he ordered me off his feet and to stay. Still silent, I did while he left, got something and came back. He ordered me to lay down. He took one of my hands and tied it to my opposite ankle. “Here’s the game. You keep your mouth on my foot.” He moved again. I lost contact immediately. Something hit my back, it felt like a whip. “That’s what a crop feels like. Any time you lose contact, you get hit.” Fuck, this was going to be hard and embarrassing. Trussed up like this, I could barely move, but the consequences were painful. Chris moved his foot again, slower this time, and I struggled to keep my mouth on it. I had to use my hand and free leg to move. He moved faster, and I earned another hit. I worked really hard to keep my mouth on his foot, but it was so difficult. Moving myself using only one hand and leg was a chore. Chris was laughing at me, totally amused by my plight. He could easily move so that my mouth lost contact. Each time his foot escaped, I got a sharp hit on my back. That was painful.
“I love watching you squirm.” Chris said between laughs. I was tiring quickly, my chest wasn’t the only thing rubbing against the floor, so was my cock. My efforts moving around put my cock and balls in jeopardy. I sometimes racked my balls causing me to silently gasp.
I was sweating by the time Chris was tired of the game. “Enough. Game over.” I just collapsed, breathing deep. I wouldn’t have been able to say anything if I had permission to speak. “Get to your chores, fuckwad.” He quickly untied me.
I was wiped out, but I still had to get up and start cleaning. I did the kitchen, then crawled to make his bed. Chris would toss his clothes anywhere since I had to pick up. His underwear was laying on the bathroom floor. I had just picked them up to crawl them to the hamper when I heard Chris say “I think you should always pick up my clothes, underwear, socks, all of it with your mouth. No more hands.” I looked at him in defiance, but dropped his underwear and picked them up with my teeth. “Fucker.” He watched me start my crawl to the hamper, let out a guffaw and left.
I finished my chores and was stuck kneeling in display where I had finished for a while when Chris ordered me to the living room. He was in a t-shirt, shorts and tennis shoes. I knelt in front of the TV where he pointed. “Get a boner.” My cock started to go up. Damn. All he had to do was say it and my body did it. I hadn’t cum in over a week, and if it wasn’t for my predicament I would have been out to get laid and laid big. Chris turned on a disc. “Stroke yourself nice and slow while you watch this great gay porn. Think about how much you want to suck me every time I want a blow job, and how much you want to make me really enjoy it. I’m going for a run.” He laughed and headed out.
I slowly moved my hand up and down on my dick. It was frustrating. I wasn’t beating off, I was edging myself. It drove me up a wall. My blue balls were aching worse than before. I really needed to make Chris enjoy getting blown by me. What the fuck? Shit. Chris had ordered me to think about making him happy, and I was. So he could make me think what he wanted? Now if I could just get him to moan while I sucked him off. Shit, again he was forcing thoughts into my mind. I had no control over my body, he could shut me up with a word, and now it seems he could make me think whatever he wanted. I was watching gay porn again, edging myself with my blue balls and thinking about making Chris enjoy my sucking him. I felt shattered.
I heard Chris come back and my mind thought it would be great if I could give him some great head after his run. Damn. He flicked the TV off. He stood over me looking down with a wicked grin on his face. “OK, you can have your thoughts back now. And drop your dick.” I let go of my cock, which stayed hard, straining to fuck. “Fucker.” He flopped down on the couch. “Look at me.” I turned around. Chris was half reclining, one leg up over the arm of the sofa.
He was still grinning, and reached down to adjust his junk, which I could see through the gap in the leg of his shorts.
“You can talk again, dipshit.”
“Master, that was horrible.”
“I know, I found it very amusing. I bet you want to cum really bad, how long has it been?”
“Over a week, Master.”
“Do you want me to let you cum, boy?”
“Yes, Master very much.”
“Without compulsion, beg me.”
“What do you mean, Master?”
“Beg me. Beg me to let you cum. As you can tell by the fact you aren’t already, I’m not forcing you to do it. I want you to do it on your own.”
“Master, you want me to beg you to cum?”
“Yes, all on your own. Do it now or stay bottled up.”
“I can’t do that, Master.”
“Fine. I’m going to take a shower. You stay hard.” Chris left for his shower. I was kneeling with my hands behind my head, and a hard-on.
The idea that I wouldn’t be able to cum without his permission was probably true. I really needed to cum, but to beg him I just couldn’t do it. Even with all the shit he had me do so far, making me do it on my own, I could deny him that, at least until he ordered me to.
Chris took a long shower and came in wearing just a towel around his waist. “Ready to beg, slave?”
“Then get me a beer. Then you need to clean up the bathroom. You should scrub the place down. And your dick can go down.”
“Yes, Master.” I went off crawling first to fetch the beer, then on to clean the bathroom. I had to use my mouth to put up his shoes, which really stank. My mouth also picked up his sweaty clothes to crawl to the hamper. I could at least get off my knees to clean some of the bathroom.
I hadn’t actually been in display long when Chris summoned me. I had been stuck on the hard floor of the bathroom. I crawled to him “Rub my feet, dumbass.”
“Yes, Master.” I began to rub his feet. His towel was partially open, so I could still see his cock and balls.
“Get your mouth on the job too.”
“Yes, Master.” My hands and mouth were busy pleasuring him. I couldn’t believe how low I had sunk.
He got a good, long foot rub. “Up to begging yet?”
“Get lunch ready. Be sure to wash your hands. Oh, and you should wash your mouth out as well.”
“Master, you want me to wash my mouth out with soap?”
“I sure do. Let’s go watch you.” Chris stood up and I crawled after him to the kitchen. “Here’s a bar of soap. Wash your mouth out.” That was sick, I couldn’t believe I was having to do this.
I stood up by the sink. “Yes, Master.” I picked up the bar of soap, ran it under water and couldn’t believe I moved it to my mouth. I stuck it in and moved it around, the taste made me want to gag.
Chris was laughing so hard his towel fell off. “Rinse it out now.” He ordered, still laughing.
I mumbled “Yes, Master,” making a horrible face, as I finally pulled the soap out and dove to the stream of water, not wanting to waste time getting a glass.
Chris just left to get some clothes on, leaving the towel where it fell. I got down, put it in my mouth and crawled to put it by the washer before starting lunch. I was demoralized.
Chris had a variation for my lunch display while he flipped through his tablet, I had a boner again. When he was finished he got up and stood really close to me, his crotch in my face. “Ready to beg yet?”
“Fine boy. Clean up. Then come to the living room. I’ll need to be rimmed.”
“Yes, Master.” I dreaded finishing the dishes, knowing I was going to have to rim him again. But I couldn’t goof off. I had to obey orders.
After I finished, I crawled out to him. “About time you finished up. My ass is ready for your slave tongue.”
“Last time, I was nice to you. You’ve been surly, so I’m not going to be as nice. See where the cushions come together? You’re going to put your head here, and I’m going to sit on your face. You’ll rim me good and deep until I decide we’re done.”
“Yes, Master. But, I’m so tired, I can’t do this.”
“Yes you can gay-boy. Because I want it. If I want it, you do it. It’s that simple. Now get your head there, I want my rimjob.”
“Yes, Master.” No breaks for me. My head forced its way between the cushions. The upper part of my back could rest on the sofa, but I had to brace myself. Chris positioned over me, his legs on either side of me. I could see his ass coming down on me. He adjusted once he sat down, and my tongue started licking. I heard Chris sigh in pleasure.
My tongue was getting a workout, and tongues are not something you exercise most of the time. Not unless you have a sadistic Master who enjoys getting rimmed.
After awhile, my back began to ache. I could adjust my shoulders and arms to ease a bit, but with the whipping I had this morning, it was uncomfortable, very uncomfortable.
Chris kicked one of my legs. “You can get hard. In fact, every time you sexually serve a man, you should be hard. Show how much you enjoy being a whore.”
I groaned as I felt my dick get hard. One second later, I realized what he had said. Now, I’d be getting a boner whenever he fucked me. Then I realized that I’d be hard during my lessons with Mike as well. I know he’d notice and tease me for it.
To be continued …
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