Date: Tue, 19 Jun 2007 18:14:06 +0100 (BST) From: WILL OBE Subject: TIM FINDS A MASTER TIM FINDS A MASTER by will.obe The next time I see Paul is in a very smart gay 'gentlemen's' club. I'd managed to scrape together the hundred quid club membership subscription required of initiated sub members. If I'd been a Master, the fee would have been ten times as much, but they allow initiated subs in at a low rate if they're recommended by a Master. Rajah recommended me in return for me submitting to regular services for him and his friends. The fee I'd paid gave me absolutely no rights to club services. Not even to buy a drink or use the toilet! Paul spotted me straight off and indicated with a flick of his finger for me to join him at the bar. "And where have you been my little white slave?" He speaks with a posh college educated accent. I looked up at this extremely handsome, black, six foot two guy who had fucked me in public at my initiation party. In his dark suit he looks amazingly dominating. "Working mainly and in the evenings hoping I'd meet you here Sir." "Really!" His hands are on my crotch feeling my hard prick. They move around and pull me close to his body as he squeezes my ass. Through our trousers I can feel his gigantic cock pressing into my belly as his fingers delve into my cleft and touch my boycunt. "And what work do you do Tim?" "I'm a page boy at the luxury hotel just around the corner from here." "I thought you were 22?" he laughs. This is always a joke. The fact that I'm only five feet six and slim with rather long curly blond hair and blue eyes means I can pass for eighteen and in my silly tight bum freezer page boy's uniform, even younger. Tonight, of course, as it's a rule of the club, I'm wearing a formal suit with a shirt and tie. Doms and subs all wear the same formal gear. The only difference being that subs are not allowed to wear any underwear, not even socks. That's why Paul's fingers are pressing into and finding my anus through my thin trouser covered ass. "Surely boy you could get something a little more adult." His big finger is pushing my trouser cloth up into my ass and I'm gasping with excitement. "Well you see Sir, Master Rajah arranged the job. He thinks it's humiliating for a guy of my age to work as a page boy." "Oh Rajah! What a brilliant idea! And do you find it humiliating?" "Very Sir. The younger pages love making me do all the crap jobs and spank my ass if I refuse. My boss is the same if I behave in what he calls a naughty boy way. He canes my bare bottom in his office or, more often, in front of guests in their bedrooms." "So your ass must be red boy?" "Nearly all the time Sir." "Now?" "I'm afraid so Sir." "Don't apologise boy. That means you're ready for me to shag you, except I'll want to warm you up first. Want a drink?" "Please Sir." "How about we both have large vodkas and you can wash yours down with a club special beer?" "Thank you Sir." While Paul orders up the drinks I stand thinking about the club special. The special beer comes from a large jug at the end of the bar where Masters empty their bladders when they don't feel like going to the toilet. Barman Ken places the two vodkas in front of us and then what looks like a pint of pale coloured beer in front of me. "Pint of special for you boy." I pick up the pint glass and look at it for a moment. Paul is looking at me intently and several other guys are taking a keen interest in seeing me drink. "Drink and think of what it is and what it proves you are Tim." After several gulps I look up at Paul, awaiting a sign of his approval. He smiles and nods. "Thank you Sir." Paul watches me as I struggle to empty the glass and place it back on the bar top. The crowd applauds my drinking effort. "So what does it prove you are Tim?" "A slave Sir." "Right. Now knock your vodka straight back slave boy." The fiery spirit takes away the taste of countless Master's piss, but I immediately feel lightheaded. I should have eaten instead of rushing to the club. Paul bends forward, kisses me lightly on the lips, puts his arms around me and pulls me close to him. So close I can feel his hard cock pressing into my chest. I'm in heaven! "My interest is in control Tim. Punishing my slaves so they know they're under my control. Making them take my cock to show they are subservient to my control. Is that what you want?" "Very much Sir." "Why?" "Well, I dunno... suppose I decided a few years ago I was a pure bottom when it came to sex. Mad about being fucked. I wanted to do what my partner decided. Then I became more sexually excited when my partner took over and made me do things, ordered me to do things and humiliated me. My natural inclination I know is to submit and to be punished if I don't." "And the idea of submitting completely to being a black man's slave is the last word in humiliation?" "Yes Sir." "There's an element of racism in you wanting me as a Master you know? But probably no more than in me wanting a white slave. So let's call it quits." Paul's hands move behind me, they cup my butt cheeks and squeeze. "Is this humiliating, being handled by a black Master in front of these white guys?" "Yes Master." "Would it be more humiliating if I took your pants down and spanked your bare ass in front of them?" Awesome I'm thinking. "It would Sir, but may I go for a piss first Sir?" "No. How desperate are you?" "Pretty desperate Sir." "We'll see how long you can last. Ken, a pint of lager for my slave boy." Ken draws a pint, grins and places the glass on the bar in front of me. At least it's the real stuff and not piss I think. "Drink slave boy," said Paul. I start sipping and then bigger mouthfuls. It tastes good. With Paul watching me I empty the glass as he drinks his vodka. Now I feel half drunk and even more willing to do anything he orders. "Good boy. Still want a piss?" "Absolutely Sir. May I go?" "No boy, you may not." "Oh please Master. I'm going to piss my pants Sir." "Does that matter?" Paul laughs. "If you can't hold it, you'll have to let it go. Maybe I want to see you piss your pants." I'm squirming and pressing my knees together as he holds me close, still smiling. "Let's take you to the toilet boy." Paul grips my arm, steers me through the crowd to a door marked 'slaves' and pushes me inside. He's close behind me. Several other Masters follow us in. It's a small brightly-lit room with white tiled walls and floor. There are no urinals, no cubicles and no wash basins. Simply a drain in the centre of the tiled floor, a small hosepipe hanging on a tap on the wall, an enema bag hanging from another tap on the wall, several hooks from which hang canes, paddles, straps, whips and a toilet roll. Paul pushes me to the centre of the room and he and the other Masters stand watching me. "I thought you said you were desperate boy. Go on, piss." I start to unzip my trousers. "No boy. Pull that zip up and piss." If this is what my Master wants and I'm so desperate, I starting pissing inside my trousers. Red faced, I feel my urine slowly filling my trousers, running down my legs and forming a pool around my shoes. Once it starts I have no control and it gushes out, wetting the front of my pants and spreading in a wide pool on the tiled floor before running down the drain. All the time Paul and the other Masters watch me. "What a sight," says Paul, aren't you a disgusting boy?" "Yes Sir." "I think he likes piss," Paul remarks to the other Masters. A chorus of "your right", "you bet he does", "dirty little bitch". I lift my head and grin because they're right, dead right. "Kneel down and look up with your mouth wide open," orders Paul. As I drop down to my knees Paul and the others unzip, pull out their cocks and piss all over me especially into my mouth. I turn this way and that to taste each of these wonderful streams of piss from all these big different cocks. Piss splatters into my hair, runs down my face, soaks my shirt and crotch. One guy seems to be aiming at the back of my pants and I feel his piss rushing down the crack of my arse. What could be more humiliating and I thank them by spreading my arms wide and looking up at them with a wide idiotic grin on my face. They finish pissing, but I continue my pose as they zip up. "You've been a good boy Tim. But even good boys need punishing before I fuck them. Choose which cane you want me to use?" There are several to choose from. I point at a medium thick cane. Paul takes down a thicker one from its hook and turns back to me. "Take your trousers and shoes off boy then bend over and touch your toes with your legs wide apart." Paul and the other Masters watch as I take off my shoes and my soaking wet trousers and let them view my half-naked and shaved body. I bend over. "Let's pretend you're an 18 year old sixth former being given six of the best in front of the whole school. You seem to already have a nice red arse. Perhaps from the beatings the prefects have given you. Are you ready boy?" "Yes Sir." "Count the strokes out loud and thank me." He doesn't hold back and whacks my ass hard. I stagger forward, rub my bottom with my hands, steady myself and resume the position. "One. Thank you Master," I shout. A swishing whistle before the cane strikes me again. I manage to hold my position. "Two. Thank you Master." Four more, each one harder than the last. "Six. Thank you Master." I cringe and sob. "What do you think boys? Isn't this a wonderful caned arse?" Paul runs a hand over both my cheeks. "Clear lines that'll last for days to remind this boy he is a slave. I think he's ready for me to shag him. Are you boy?" As if I had a choice! "Yes Master, please fuck me Sir." The idea of him making use of me in front of all these other guys adds yet another level of humiliating excitement to what is about to happen. "Would you like me to prepare him Paul?" "Good of you to offer Nat, thanks," Paul responds. I remember Nat. He had a huge bright red cock and low hanging balls, as he'd pissed into my mouth. He takes several sheets of paper from the toilet roll and comes up behind me. I can see him through my parted legs. "One of my kinks is to wipe my slave's bottom," he announces to everyone. "Can you imagine the shame of a grown man having his ass wiped in front of a crowd? Usually I do it in front of my wife," he laughs. Nat spreads my ass cheeks and carefully wipes deep into my anus then holds up the paper for the other guys to see. My prick is wagging hard in the air. "Not a skid mark. He's as clean as any club slave should be. Now my other kink. Preparing a slave for a good fuck." I get a good view of this hunky guy as he kneels down on the piss-wet floor behind me. He spreads my ass cheeks wide with his hands and applies his mouth to my boycunt. I'm totally surprised and the pain from my caning disappears as he tongue fucks my tight anus. Wow! This is it! I wriggle my ass as he burrows ever deeper with his hard tongue. My eyes are closed and I'm swooning in ecstasy. I assume he's equally turned on by this exercise of power over me as a slave. As his tongue withdraws he spits and slobbers. "Come on Paul, the bitch is on heat, ready for your big cock." Paul drops his pants, pumps his huge black shiny cock and plunges into my ass. I take it all. Straight into my bitch hole until his prickly pubic hairs are touching my shaved hole on each downward stroke. In, out, in out. I'm drooping to the floor as his weight presses down. Other Masters hands pull me up and support my shoulders and groin. Paul is yelling. "Take my cock you white bitch. It's what you want, isn't it? To be fucked by a big black cock? In front of my friends so they know you're my slave? Answer me Tim, am I your black Master?" At the top of my voice I scream out. "Yes Master, please make me your white bitch slave Master. I want to belong to you, obey you and serve you." Paul is over the top excited. I'm saying the right things. His enormous cock is reaming me and I'm giving myself to him. Now I want his seed spurting up my ass, taking possession. And then it happens. He grunts like a bear, yells out a loud scream and unloads into me. Now it's real. I can feel his warm spunk inside me and I know I am his for as long as he wants. If this story has turned you on, please let me know. will.obe@btinternet.com