Date: Fri, 16 Mar 2007 11:07:54 -0800
From: bamaboi2serve@charter.net
Subject: Storm Discovery, Part FOUR-The Garage

Storm Discovery, Part FOUR, The Garage

bamaboi2serve@charter.net

     Picture a block-long two story warehouse with the floor cut out
between the two stories and you get a feel for the scale of The Garage. A
catwalk stretched around on all sides, with stairs here and there for
access. It was dark, but not so much that you couldn't see there was a lot
going on.
     At the door was a table with a big leather-clad master, a naked,
skinny tattooed slave at his side. He was checking ID's, collecting
entrance fees, and then doing The Garage equivalent of stamping our hands
to prove we had paid. But instead of an ink stamp, he was directing us over
to a side table where a small geometric tattoo was placed on our upper arm!
I noticed for the first time that FS had a series of a two dozen or more of
the markings, each a slightly different shape, snaking down his arm. I
tried not to flinch or react to the pain as the tattoo artist did his quick
work, and FS distracted me by pushing one o fhis hands down the back of my
leather shorts and fingering me. When it was over, he had me suck his
finger, cleaning of it my own ass juice.
     After the markings, FS dragged me to a side of the main room next to
the restrooms, unceremoniously tied my leash to a railing, ordered me to
kneel, secured my hands above me to a pipe and wrapped an old jockstrap
around my head as a blindfold.
     From his pocket FS pulled out a handmade sign and stuck it on the wall
behind me. Later I saw it had just one word on it: "Thirsty", and as FS
walked away the first of dozens of men came by on their way to the
bathroom, stopping instead to relieve my "thirst". Some of them spat thick
slimy flem into my gag-tube. Other inserted their cocks and relieved
themselves, and some simply spilled some beer in.
     An hour later my belly was bulging like I was pregnant, filled with a
mix of liquids. I was being taught how to use my mouth, and I knew there
was much more to come. I also knew not to relieve myself without an
explicit order from FS or a master, though I felt like bursting.
     "Ready for some more bitch?" The question came next to my left ear,
low and growling and I immediately knew it was Master.
     "Yes, Sir!" I replied immediately.
     "Good, boi! There is a man in front of you. He is one of my best
friends, and he's going to take you for a walk around the place...make sure
you do as told, slut!"
     "Yes, Sir," I said again, feeling a quick pulling on my leash.
    I kept catching fragments of conversations as I crawled along next to
the Master's friend:
    "I don't care how sore your fucking ass is boi! Open up and open up
wide!"
    "Drink some more, bitch, show us how much you like piss!"
    "This plug isn't nearly as big as the one you had in when we visited
your Mother last week...open up and take it, slut!"
    "Put these clamps on pig-boi...your tits look lonely!"
    There were numerous moans and sounds of sexual satisfaction. After a
while we came to a stop. The man leading me reached down and lifted me up
as if I weighed nothing and placed me on my back on a table of some
kind. Straps quickly tied my hands. The there was a rubbing at my ass and I
felt my hole being stretched as a plug of some kind was forced in...just as
I thought I could take no more it popped through my sphincter and seated
itself in my ass...it much have been huge! The plug acted as a stopper for
the fluids inside me, like a cork in a bottle. Then belts were used to
secure my stretched out legs.
     My head was hanging off the edge of the table, and I soon found out
why. Even though I was still full of piss and spit and cum, there was more
making it's way into my mouth. Master's promise of making me an oral slave
was coming true quickly!
     I lost count of the men who used me as a urinal or as a hole to
fuck. Each tasted different, all of them tasted good, and soon I found
myself feeling anxious during the empty time in between pisses...breaking
out in a sweat if the wait was more than a few minutes.
    One stud had this average length dick that made up for it in girth. His
monster must have been five inches in circumference! He stretched my mouth
wide with every thrust, finally shooting a nice load. With each push he
would used his deep voice to humiliate me: "Here boi! This cock too big for
you? What's the matter boi? Can't take a real man cock? Open up slut! Take
this mouth-stretcher inside you cunt!"
    The line of men came to an end for a moment, and I rested.
   "OK boi, time to get some of that out of you..." Master's friend said (I
didn't know his name, other than "Sir", which is probably all I needed
anyway) "... let me put this in ..."
    I had put catheters into people as part of my medical training, but had
never had one inserted into me before, and let me tell you it is a weird
feeling. A little painful at first, but when it is finally all the way in,
there is this amazing urge to piss but no matter what I did I couldn't.
    Sir then inserted something through the tube in my gag and then asked
me a question.
     "Do you have to piss, boi?"
    Unable to talk, I simply nodded yes.
    My mouth and throat were quickly filled with my own piss, the catheter
having been opened...I started choking and it stopped.
    "More, boi?"
    I nodded again and the piss once again filled my mouth. I wondered how
long I could recycle my own piss like this, whether any of it would
eventually be absorbed by my body.
    It lasted a long time...at least 45 minutes...and a small crowd
gathered to watch the action. Sir would fill my mouth and let me swallow
it, then repeat it, each mouthful heading back into the recycling system he
had set up. Finally he opened the catheter about 25% and left it in my
mouth, giving me a constant supply of piss without demanding too much of my
throat. I was a very happy puppy, deep in my xtacy high and hard as can be
from the stimulation and the viagra!
    Eventually Sir shut off the catheter and removed the tube from my
mouth, getting me off the table and walking me on all fours over to the
other side of the club where various Masters and slaves were gathered. Sir
greeted the Masters and asked if any of them had a thirsty slave. Several
did, and he quickly used the catheter to empty my still quite full kidneys
into a series of slaves who I was fairly sure were not happy to be the
receivers. My stomach soon returned to regular size and Sir took me to a
hose-down corner of the place for a quick cold-water wash.
   Next stop was a device I had seen in a lot of videos, but never in
person...a St. Andrews Cross, an "X" shaped contraption to which Sir
quickly tied me, stretching my arms and legs to their extreme. I was still
wearing the tube gag, but he took off the blindfold so I could see what was
happening to me.
   If my tits are an extension of my cock, my balls are just the
opposite. They are very sensitive to pain, so I was concerned when I saw
Sir examining an apparent ball-crusher device. It was made of two sheets of
clear Plexiglas with four screws in the corners and a hole in the middle
for the cock to go through, leaving the balls behind. In no time he had it
on me and was tightening each of the screws one at a time.
   My balls were being flattened between the sheets of plastic, and I could
make out the veins more and more clearly...Sir stopped for a moment and
asked the crowd that had gathered (was I really that interesting?) "How far
should I got to mash his little boi balls?"
   Several of the men (and even two of the slaves!) urged Sir onward,
telling him to keep tightening...the pain was excruciating, and it was only
the hits from poppers that Sir gave me from the tube around my neck every
now and then that allowed me to stand it. He mocked me to the crowd, but
the humiliation only turned me on more.
   "Look at the bitch! His Master gave him to me for a while to see what he
can do...to see what he can take...and here he is almost in tears like some
little boy! A little ball torture and he's acting like a girl! Maybe I
should tighten them so much that his balls break and he can be a little
girl! He's already lost his man-hair...should his balls be next?"
   The crowd had grown larger and cheered Sir on, I was in great pain and
yet my cock saluted them, sticking out like a flag pole from the crusher,
with long wet strands of cum dripping onto the plastic. No matter what I
did to protest the pain, my stiff cock was making a liar of me!
   Sir turned the screws another notch and the pain increased even more! A
Master in the crowd ordered his boi to piss in a cup and then poured it
into my tube. Despite it all, I was grateful for the liquid and nodded my
head, trying to beg for more...
    That of course was the sign for him to stop. Instead, he reached up to
my tits and started manipulating them, making them hard and erect. Then
came a pre-packaged cloth-wipe with an antiseptic smell...through my pain
from the ball-crusher I wondered why he was cleaning my tits. I didn't want
to wait long to find out. From a bag at his side, Sir withdrew two items I
recognized immediately: my paramedic/fire department "badge" and my uniform
name tag. My temporary Master carefully used a lighter to sterilize the
needles on them and, without any ceremony, pushed one each through my tits.
     The pain from my balls quickly receded, replaced by the new pain of
having both my tits pierced. Amazingly, my mind was clear enough that it
also registered on me that both my name and badge number were now a part of
my display on the St. Andrew's cross.
     Some of the spectators quickly used the information...that was now
public: "Hey Billy boi, wanna give me from mouth-to-cock?" said one..."Are
your balls part of a medical display Billy?" asked another. Both of them
knew I couldn't answer.
     After a while they grew tired and moved on to seek their thrills in
other parts of the place.
    Sir unstrapped me, removing the ball crusher, taking me down from the
cross and even removing my gag...it was the first time my mouth had been
empty all night! After pushing me down on all fours, he dragged me over the
Garage Door where Master was waiting.
     "Was he good?" he asked Sir.
    "Not bad...needs some more discipline though, he was a little reluctant
to let me pierce him."
    I had to bite my tongue to refrain from yelling out that I had let him
do the piercing and everything else he wanted without any objections...I
thought I had been very obedient!
    "Oh he's going to get a lot more training...the next time I bring him
down here you won't ever recognize him!" said Master, pulling my leash to
through the door and taking me outside where he forced me into the
truck-bed. I lay down nursing my sore balls and adjusting to the feeling of
my name tag and badge piercing my tender tits. The pain was
manageable...endorphins had kicked in, and I was still feeling the x, so I
just drifted off into a haze as the truck roared out of the parking lot and
headed back out to the Interstate. Despite the road noise, I heard FS's
voice from the cab, telling Master what he thought about my level of
obedience. Stars filled the warm summer sky as we heading toward the
Master's rural farmhouse with all of it's rooms filled with odd
couplings...off to my new life.


To be continued...


Sorry for the delay in posting...computer problems! Thanks for all of the
e-mail suggestions and encouragement! MUCH more to come back at the
farmhouse!

Bamaboi2serve@charter.net