Date: Mon, 26 Feb 2007 5:37:49 -0800
From: bamaboi2serve@charter.net
Subject: Storm Discovery, Part TWO

Storm Discovery, Part TWO
"Training"

Bamaboi2serve@charter.net

     My ass burned from the repeated blows by the whip, and I worried there
could be permanent damage done. I screamed as much as I could with the gag
filling my mouth, and tried to twist my body away from the path of the
punishment, but it did little good. It seemed to last forever, and even the
boy tied on my left seemed concerned. I could hear his moaning and there
was a look of worry in his eyes.
     Eventually I must have passed out, awakening strapped facedown on a
high table...like the kind a masseuse uses, including a rubber lined
depression that my face had fallen into. There were straps holding me down
every foot or so, ending with one forcing my head into the rubber. I wasn't
going anywhere anytime soon!
    "I suppose I need to thank you for saving my boi...even though I was
there myself a short time after the storm hit. So thanks!" His voice was
extraordinarily deep, making his words sound like growls. He punctuated his
comment with two sharp slaps to my ass, which was still burning from the
previous beating. It hurt like hell!
    I was still gagged, this time with some kind of smelly cloth, so I
could do nothing to complain or acknowledge his comment.
     "The way you've taken your discipline so far tells me I did the right
thing when I took you with us last week. I could have just left you with
your little ambulance."
     Last week? I thought. Had I been here that long?
     "My fuck slave thinks you're hot, by the way. He hasn't actually told
me that, but I can tell by the way he looks at you. I've been thinking
about letting him take out some of his hidden aggression and anger with me
on you, but we'll see. That`s one of his old jockstraps in your mouth, by
the way. If you are really, really good, you may earn a promotion to one of
my socks."
     The voice had been coming from behind me, but then he came over and
stood in front of my tied down face then, and I could see his thick black
boots and his muscular black legs too.
     All was quiet, and then I felt the warm liquid hitting the back of my
head and filling the leather pouch holding my face up. It a matter of
seconds the rubber cup was filling up and I was in danger of not being able
to breathe once it covered my nose. I was able to push the jockstrap-gag
out of my mouth, and I start slurping up his piss as fast as I could. It
worked, and he eventually stopped pissing. My chin sat in a cooling pool of
the little bit that escaped my mouth.
     "Good slut! Very good! My fuck-slave-boi almost drowned the first time
I put him to this test! Here's a reward for you!"
     Again, my ass was slapped, this time with his bare hands, over and
over, about a dozen solid slaps that had my ass burning!
    Then he seemed to get down on the floor, reaching under the
table. Solid steel clamps grabbed both my nips at the same time through the
holes that had obviously been drilled for that purpose. Then there was a
solid pulling that stretched them downward. Another chain was connected to
the ones holding the weights, and the end of it was clipped to a large
cock-gag that he then forced into my mouth, strapping it around my
piss-soaked head. Any movement of my head pulled on my tits.
    I was left alone for a while then, and despite the position I was
strapped into, I managed to sleep for a while.
   I woke as I felt bonds being losened, then the tit clamps came off. Then
my gag was taken out, and finally my blindfold removed. I was still loosely
tied down, but able to move a bit.
   For the first time I spotted my abductor. He was a towering black man,
at least 6'5" and about 220 pounds; all of it as far as I could see was
muscle. He was completely shaved, and was inscribed with a series of
intricate tribal tattoos on his upper body. Black and red ink had been
used, and the combination on his coffee colored skin was very exotic. He
was naked except for a black leather vest and a white jockstrap.
   "Good morning, cunt!" he bellowed.
   "Good Morning!" I responded.
     He bent down, grabbed my head with both hands and forced me to within
an inch of his face. I kept my eyes slanted downward.
     "That's SIR to you, slut! Say it again!" he yelled.
     "Good Morning, Sir!" I replied.
     "Better, boi! Now's time to let you know some of the rules of this
place...and the first one is you never, ever speak unless it is in answer
to my questions...and my questions only. If fuck-slave comes to you and
asks if you want a blow job, what do you say?"
    "I would say...nothing, err, Sir."
    "Very good, slut. Second rule: your cock is mine. Your ass is mine. You
little-boi tits are mine. Your entire body is mine and I will do with it as
I please. Do you agree?"
     I guessed I really did have a choice here, but I knew I was
tremendously turned on by this scene. It was a real-life version of most of
my masturbation fantasies...down to the fact that my Master was black. I
didn't exactly have a Mandingo kind of thing going, but the idea of a black
master appealed to me, something about the tables being turned on me, this
skinny white boy of privilege. I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but
decided they could wait and answered with a simple "Yes, Sir."
    "Good, faggot slave boi! Rule number three: I can and will loan you out
for the pleasure of my friends, and you will obey them just as you obey
me. That loaning process will begin tonight, before I've even taken your
worthless ass myself. I want them to break you in for me. Is that OK?"
    "Sure..."
    "SURE? SURE WHAT?" he bellowed, using his open hands to punish my
already red ass some more.
     "Sir! Yes, Sir! I shouted through my pain.
      "Better! Fuck-slave is going to get you ready for you premier
tonight. He's going to wash your worthless puny body and remove that
little-boi hair and get you dressed for your night of service to my friends
at The Garage. OK boi?
     "Yes Sir," I almost screamed. I had read about The Garage in Downtown
Atlanta, and had actually planned to go there this summer if I could work
up my nerves. It was supposed to be a big old former welding shop equipped
for S&M enjoyment, with lots of torture devices and toys, and lots of
slaves and masters playing.
      Apparently satisfied with my level of submission, Master finished
untying the belts holding me to the table, and I was finally able to lift
my head completely from the piss-filled rubber tub. That's when I noticed
that tornado boy...the fuck slave... was in the room with us. Without
warning, he walked over and pulled me off the table, pushed me down on my
knees, and put his cock in my mouth. I looked out of the corner of my eye
and could see Master watching, apparently approving. Fuck-boi started
peeing, and again I was taking a stranger's piss, swallowing as quickly as
I could to keep up.
     Then he turned around and bent over, forcing his ass into my face and
ordering me to start licking. He was fairly clean, but it was still
humiliating, and he kept up the verbal abuse too, calling me not worthy of
the word slave, and mocking me for allowing him to use my mouth to clean
his ass.
    When he tired of it, he put me on all fours and walked me over to an
open stall shower in a corner, inserting the tube-gag in, forcing my mouth
open and making it impossible for me to say anything. He tied my hands to
chains suspended from the ceiling above the shower, stretching my body to
the point that I was standing on my toes.
     FS, as I came to think of him, scrubbed by body roughly with a stiff
brush, and then used a razor and shaving cream to remove all of the hair on
my body from the neck down. He seemed to take special pleasure in removing
the pubes around my cock. "Hey slut, where did you get the idea you could
have this man hair anyway? You're not a man, are you? Would a real man be
on his knees sucking a mere slave's cock? Drinking my cum and piss? Licking
my balls? I don't think so! You sure don't act like a man, so why should
you look like one?" Repeatedly as he spoke he slapped my cock and balls,
also reaching up to roughly pinch my tits. Needless to say, I stayed
erect. I was loving the abuse, even when it truly hurt!
     Looking in the big mirror across the room, I could see he was right
about me. I looked more like a 14-year-old version of myself than a young
man. My bush was gone, the pits were stripped of their symbol of
manhood...I wondered how I could possibly explain any of this at he
ambulance company shower-room! After a single rinse Fuck-Slave left me
standing there while he went out of the room for a moment.
     When he returned, he untied my hands and said simply, "Master
approves!" and pushed me to my knees. Then I was sucking his cock, with him
determining the speed of the job with both hands on the back of my head. He
was hard almost immediately, and long enough that he hit my throat opening
with each thrust, his shaved balls slamming against my chin.
     "Come on cocksucker, show me what you can do! Take this cock deep!" he
said mockingly. I could tell he was taking out on me the resentment he may
have built up being used by Master and his friends. I wondered how much of
a true bottom he was. I couldn't imagine ever getting to the point that I
would hate what he was doing to me right now!
     I grabbed his legs to keep my balance, but he pushed them away and
ordered me to keep them behind my back. When I grabbed his them a second
time, he got a pair of handcuffs from a nearby table and locked my hands in
place behind my back and pushed me against the wall of the shower so
prevent me from moving backward against his oral assault. He resumed his
pounding, ramming into me over and over till I was tearing up. Then, with
one final push, he held me impaled on him and shot his load deep into
me. Choking, I managed to swallow all of his jism.
    As a chaser, he pissed into my mouth again, washing down the cum lining
my mouth. Through it all I was hard, and I found myself wishing he had more
piss to give me.
   I was being abused by a slave...a fuck slave...one probably younger than
me! What did that make me? I wondered. Lowest on the totem pole, for
sure. Right where I wanted to be!

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

To be...continued. Next: the new slave spends the night at The Garage, used
and abused by temp-Masters.

Comment? Suggestions? Let me hear from you!
Bamaboi2serve@charter.net