Date: Mon, 29 Aug 2011 23:47:20 -0400 From: Kyle Johnson Subject: Enslaved On Vacation, Part 10 Enslaved on Vacation, Chapter 10 (Gay, authoritarian) I laid there in a heap on the bathroom floor of Master's condo for who knows how long. I wanted the let the nausea pass from the abuse my balls had taken. They still radiated with pain, and, looking down, they were bright red. I slowly untied the rope that Drew had wound around them, gingerly unwinding it from my most fragile of regions and being careful not to cause myself any further pain. I couldn't believe I was still hard. And not just hard, stone cold rock hard, oozing a flow of precum. This HAS to be from the Viagra, I thought. There is no way I can actually be getting this turned on by a younger, cocky teen boy beating on my genitals. But just the thought of it again, picturing the whole scene in my head, made my cock twitch a little more. My young master had grown impatient in the other room and yelled for me to get my ass in gear, so I managed to get to my feet. I used a towel to sop up some of the mess, and put the bucket and rope neatly in the corner of the bathroom, very much hoping we wouldn't be needing them any more. Submissively, I crawled into the room and awaited orders at Drew's feet. Oddly, I noticed that on the coffee table, there were a number of upside-down bowls laid out. They were undoubtedly concealing various things, and Master's devious eyes told me that their secrets were not ones I would enjoy. "Don't you dare bump the table, you clumsy fuck," he commanded. I just hung my head in a combination of exhaustion and resignation. I had been through a lot tonight, and it had to be getting late, although I couldn't see the clock from my present position. "This is going great so far, huh faggot? I am putting on a hell of a fucking initiation for you, if I do say so myself. Don't you agree?" I knew better than to be a smart ass. "Yes Master. Thank you Master." "Haha, good boy. Well since I am on such a fucking roll, I don't see why we shouldn't just keep plodding along and jump right into number seven. This one is all about me making you eat and drink funny and gross stuff. The kind of shit I might usually dare one of my friends back home to do for like $20. But now that I have a fucking slave, I can get all the entertainment of watching you do this shit for free. Fucking sweet, really." Drew was beaming from ear to ear at the glory of his position over me. "So, whenever you are ready, there are 6 delicious surprises waiting for you on the table. You have to do them all, so choose one, uncover it, and get started. Ohh...wait one second." Drew quickly got up from his perch on the couch and walked over to the adjoining kitchen. On the floor by the kitchen entrance were the two dog bowls he had made me eat and drink from earlier. He picked up the water bowl, now nearly empty, and dumped it in the sink. Grabbing an empty normal-sized drinking glass, he returned to the living room and put the bowl on the floor beside me. "I figure some of these things might make you pretty thirsty, so I decided to be generous and let you have some water." Master Drew squatted over the tub in which he had made me wash his feet and dunked the drinking glass in. He proceeded to dump this into my dog bowl. "That's it, bitch. You get the equivalent of one glass of water to drink during this six-course meal. If you run out and want more, you can buy additional glasses, but it will cost you. Every additional glass equals one kick in the junk. Now get started, we don't have all fucking year." Master Drew grinned smugly as he saw my reaction to all he had said. One fucking glass of water. I had no idea what was under the 6 bowls on the table, but I could only imagine I would want to wash the tastes out of my mouth. But there was no way my nuts could take any more punishment. I resolved that I would have to make it through all six on just the single glass of water. Staring at the table, I flipped over the bowl nearest to me. Under it was a small plate with nothing on it but a half a stick of butter. Drew rolled on the couch laughing as he saw my face. "Well what are you waiting for, fucker? I'll give you 5 minutes to down that before I start spanking you for being slow." I cautiously took a bite out of the stick. I actually really like butter, so maybe this wouldn't be so horrible, but then again I had never eaten it plain. Able to swallow the first bite, I got braver and took as big a bite as possible. Bad move -- I gagged severely, and I think I threw up a little in my mouth. Luckily I recovered and was able to swallow it all and plod on. Drew was taking this all in from his elevated perch on the couch and watched with supreme interest. He was very much enjoying my discomfort. "Hurry up, fag. Only one minute left before I wail on your ass." He put his right hand (his dominant spanking hand, I had learned) up in the air over his head and made some "warm up" spanking motions as he smirked at me. I hurried to stuff the last of the butter in my mouth and struggled to swallow it all without gagging again. I just made it under the time. My mouth felt so gross, it is hard to describe. The insides of my cheeks, the roof of my mouth, my tongue, and my throat were still covered and a thin waxy layer of horribly salty butter. I felt like drinking a gallon of water, but I knew I had to be disciplined. I decided to save it and move right on to the next bowl. In fact, I luckily made it through the next 3 bowls without horrible problems. Thank god I have a strong stomach. The second one had contained a shot glass full of Tabasco sauce. I downed it, and took a little sip of water to try and wash out my mouth. It was so hot it made my eyes water. The next two were a glass of dill pickle juice mixed with black pepper, and a coffee cup full of mayonnaise. Neither was a piece of cake, but I managed to use a lot of determination to finish them both. I had lapped up about half of my allotted water, with two dishes to go, so I was happy about at least having some left at this point. I flipped over the fifth bowl and revealed a small glass, a little bigger than a shot glass, filled with a mainly clear substance. Upon closer examination, it looked like saliva. "Yep, that's right bitch. That's a cup full of my spit. Been working on it off and on all evening. Don't just drink it. I want you to put it all in your mouth and fucking swirl it around for a little while." God, what a disgusting thought. The spittle looked very thick, and had some bubbles on the top. The sheer idea of taking this boy's spit and washing my mouth out with such a volume of it was sickening. I mean, sure he was amazingly hot, and I wanted him badly...I would have loved to make out with him and maybe taste his saliva straight from the mouth. But a glass full is a wholly different predicament. I managed to get it all in my mouth, as Drew keeled over laughing, and making disgusted "eeeew"s to taunt me. His spit was kind of warm and very slimy feeling in my mouth. It didn't taste bad, really, but the level of humiliation that I felt as I was ordered to swish it around all over my mouth, and even gargle with it, was awful. Finally, Master told me I could swallow it, and I was relieved to be almost done with this ordeal. "Only one left," I thought to myself. There was no point in stalling. After flipping over the bowl, I actually couldn't believe my luck. It looked like just a plain peanut-butter sandwich. "Oh man," Drew exclaimed. "You saved my favorite fucking one for last." At that, I knew there had to be some catch. "Looks pretty tasty, huh bitch? You like peanut butter, don't you?" "Yes Master." "Well I was nice enough to make you a delicious sandwich. But there are a couple of special ingredients. Call it an old family recipe, fag. Open it up and take a look." I did as ordered, peeling back the top layer of bread from the sandwich to look inside. Stuck to the peanut butter was what looked like a mixture of hair and fingernails, all glopped together in a disgusting mess. Drew was laughing his ass off at my facial reaction. "I saved your pubes from earlier, dude. I hear they add some nice fuckin flavor," my Master taunted. I looked down at my barren crotch and swollen scrotum, and it sunk in that I was about to be forced to eat my own pubic bush. "Oh, and I also had to trim my toenails, so I added them in too. I know how you like to slobber all over my feet, faggot, so that should be a treat." I replaced the top slice of bread on my sandwich, hiding the repulsive secret ingredients from my sight. I couldn't, though, get them out of my head. This had to be the most unsanitary, fowl sandwich every conceived. I gulped at the thought of actually eating it, but an impatient snarl from my Master was all I needed to get started. Hoping for the best, I took a good sized first bite. At first, all I could taste was peanut butter, but soon I was overwhelmed with the textures. There was A LOT if pubic hair mixed in there, and it seemed to engulf all parts of my mouth. It was between my teeth, hanging from the roof of my mouth, and everywhere else imaginable. I struggled the chew and swallow, but it was difficult. The occasional scrap of toenail added to the rich textural landscape, and I felt so low to think that I was actually eating my Master's toenail clippings. Bite after bite, I plodded along. It must have taken me twenty minutes to eat a sandwich I would normally scarf down in two. Meanwhile, my dick was harder than ever. This extreme level of humiliation clearly, and inexplicably, had me turned on beyond belief, and as I finished the sandwich, Drew was sure to rub it in. "Jesus, you are a pathetic little faggot. Even while you are eating my fucking toenails, chowing down on a pile of your own pubes, your little boy cock has a raging boner. Fucking low." The tone in Drew's voice was a mixture of disgust, amusement, wonder, and condescension. Finally finished with the god awful sandwich, I dove for my water bowl and lapped up the last of my water serving like the dog I had become. Master continued to laugh. My ass was sticking up in the air, and he kicked it as he walked by, sending my face downward into the bowl. "Seven down, doggie. Six to go." ... Feedback greatly appreciated. This is my first story on Nifty. More parts coming soon!