Date: Fri, 9 Feb 2024 19:37:41 +0000 (UTC)
From: "slaveboy22222@yahoo.com" <slaveboy22222@yahoo.com>
Subject: Straight Man Slave 7

The next morning, I woke up when I felt the band sending electrical shocks
through my balls. At first, the shocks were light, but it doesn't take much
of a shock there to wake you up, and I was fully awake. Sir had said that
the cage would unlock itself, but the padlock still seemed shut. I reached
through the bars to tug on it, just to check, but I was right, I was still
locked in the cage. As I waited for the lock to open, so I could wake Sir
up and he could shut off the shocks, I could feel the shocks increasing in
intensity, causing me to verbally gasp several times.

After about five minutes, I heard a loud "click" as the lock
disengaged. Sir must have deliberately set that, so that the shocks would
be stronger now, and they were starting to increase in frequency as I
whimpered in pain. I quickly unhooked the padlock and stepped out of the
cage. I didn't waste any time in hustling down to Sir's room.

When I got there, I saw that he was still asleep under a blanket. I didn't
think he'd want me to pull the blanket off him, especially if he was
sleeping naked, so I got underneath the blanket at the foot of the bed and
slid up, being careful to move the blanket as little as possible. I was
right that Sir was naked under the blanket, and once I found his cock, I
put my mouth around it and started to give him a blowjob. I didn't take my
time, because I was desperate for him to wake up and relieve the pain in my
balls. It was only a few seconds later that I heard Sir moan, and then a
few seconds after that I felt a hand on the top of my head, over the
blanket, pushing me all the way down on Sir's cock. I let myself go as best
I could, even with the pain, knowing that it was now entirely up to Sir how
long I would suffer.

Sir held my head down as he pumped his cock into my mouth. I stayed still,
and swallowed his cock, letting him fuck my face while my balls continued
to be electrocuted. I whimpered in pain around Sir's cock, until I finally
felt his cock start to spurt hot cum into my mouth. I swallowed it as best
I could, although some dribbled out of my mouth. Sir held my head in
position until he was done squirting his seed, then he instructed me to
clean him up, while he pulled the blanket off. I looked to see where Sir's
cum was, then licked it off of his cock, and from around the base of his
cock, whimpering the whole time. When I was done, Sir finally turned off
the shocks and removed the strap. My first mental reaction was to be
grateful that Sir had cum in my mouth so that he would shut off the shocks.

While that thought was still running through my mind, Sir said, "Scrambled
eggs. 3 for me, none for you." Then he slapped my ass to send me on my
way. It was only while I was cooking for him that I reflected on that
initial thought - Sir had ordered me to put the strap on, Sir had set it to
shock me, Sir had made me suck his cock until he came before he shut it
off; why was my first thought to be grateful to him? But I still felt
grateful. After all, I put the strap on myself. I had chosen to follow his
orders. If he wanted to torture me, that was well within his rights, so the
fact that he ended the torture was kindness.

After a few minutes, Sir entered the dining room wearing gear for
Nebraska. Apparently he was a Nebraska football fan, and they had a game
today. While he ate, Sir had me kneel in front of him, naked except for my
collar and my chastity cage, and talked. "Like I said yesterday, I've got a
friend coming for the game at noon. He's a Minnesota grad, so we'll watch
the game together. I expect you to obey him as if I gave you the order."

"Yes, Sir," I responded. When Sir was done, I cleaned up from breakfast, my
stomach rumbling because I wasn't used to going this long without
eating. Sir did interrupt me while I was doing the dishes, pushing me to
the kitchen floor and pulling his dick out to make me drink his piss. The
sheer casualness of drinking piss in Sir's kitchen made me feel owned,
especially when I finished that task and went back to cleaning for him.

When the dishes were done, Sir called me into the living room and
instructed me to kneel on the floor in front of him. "I told you yesterday
that my friend Henry was coming over. He knows about you and what you are,
so there's no reason to try to hide it from him. You will stay naked, and
you will serve him and me while he's here. When he gets here, you will
greet him at the door, and lead him in here, crawling in front of him so
that he gets a good look at your straight ass. When he's taken a seat,
offer to get him a drink. Do you follow that?"

"Yes, Sir," I said

"Good. He'll be here before too long. Go kneel by the front door so he
doesn't have to wait for you."

I crawled off to kneel by the door. While I waited, I thought about how
much my life had changed. Just two weeks ago, I probably would have been
planning to grill something to eat for lunch, maybe playing a video
game. Instead, here I was in another man's home, naked and obedient to his
wishes, waiting for a second man to arrive, who I knew was going to use me
in some way, although I wasn't sure on the details. Why was I here? Because
I was horny to get used by somebody? How was that working out for me? My
dick was locked up in a chastity cage, and while I'd had five orgasms in
the past two weeks, all of them except the first were pure torture. Was it
because I wanted to be owned? But to what end? I could get along just fine
on my own, and I could have an orgasm when I wanted, I didn't have to suck
another man's cock while I was being tortured with jolts of electricity to
my balls, I didn't have to drink another man's piss. But here I was.

And I wasn't thinking about leaving. That was the part that I couldn't wrap
my head around. I knew I was being abused. Any rational person would call
it mistreatment, but I didn't want it to stop. I wasn't going to leave.

My reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. I immediately stood up
and opened the door. I decided to bow, while saying, "Welcome, Sir
Henry. Please follow me." I dropped to all fours and crawled to the living
room, while I heard Henry following behind me.

I heard him chuckle to himself, "Well, he wasn't lying about the faggot
part, damn." I couldn't help but blush at the way Sir talked about me to
his friend, but I kept on crawling and showed Henry into the living room.

When we entered, Sir patted the couch next to him and invited Henry to sit
with him. Henry sat down, and I kneeled in front of them. "Would you Sirs
like anything to drink?" I asked.

Both of them requested a beer, so I crawled to the fridge to retrieve two
beers. I couldnt' figure out a way to carry them while crawling, so I
walked back into the living room and knelt in front of them, presenting a
beer to each of them, which they took, opened, and drank from. While they
did that, I got a chance to look at Henry. He was large, but not fat. It
was like he was one of those strongmen - more muscle than fat, even if he
lacked muscle definition. His hair was cut short, but he had a full beard.

I continued to kneel in front of Sir and Henry, who talked, basically
ignoring me. Henry was telling Sir about what he'd been up to. I made it a
point to not eavesdrop - if they wanted me to listen, they'd tell me. Most
of it seemed to involve working or working out, though. Finally, Henry
said, "Enough about me? What's been going on with you? You've got a new
bitch-boy, obviously. Seems decent enough."

Sir laughed. "Considering that he's straight, he's been doing an adequate
job."

"You mentioned that. How the fuck did you land a straight dude as a slave?"

"It was one of those things that just happened. We met on grindr. I think
he was just desperate for some kinky action, and he found it. And now that
he's found it, he can't stop. He's actually incredibly obedient. He's never
bucked me, not once. Not when I stick my cock down his straight throat, not
when I fuck his tight little straight ass, and not even when I piss all
over his straight face. I like to call him my straight faggot," Sir
explained. Now that they were talking about me, I couldn't help but to
listen, and to hear Sir talk about how straight I was, and all of the gay
sex I willingly submitted to, made me lower my eyes and blush.

Henry laughed. "Looks like he likes that, too."

"Honestly, at this point, it's as much a term of endearment as it is
humiliation," Sir said. "Maybe I should tattoo it on him. `Straight' on one
ass cheek, `faggot' on the other." That was news to me. I wasn't a fan of
the idea, but didn't think I should express myself at that
moment. But...that would mean my condition was permanent. And I wasn't sure
if I was THAT committed to this lifestyle.

Henry found that idea hilarious. "I'd love to see that. But I guess that's
a different day. Come on, before the game starts, what's the bet?"

Sir thought for a second. "If Minnesota wins, you get bitch-boy here for a
weekend. If Nebraska wins, since you don't have a slave, he gets to fuck
you, under conditions that I decide."

Henry stopped laughing. "Nobody fucks Henry," he said, in no uncertain
terms.

"You mean you're going to turn down a whole weekend with a straight faggot,
over the possibility of one fuck?"

Henry considered. "You're right. It's not going to matter anyway. My Golden
Gophers are going to eat your Huskers alive. A weekend is Friday evening to
Sunday evening?"

"You got it," Sir responded.

"Ok, but I get to test him out during the game. If he fails to satisfy,
bet's off," Henry said.

"You have to make up your mind by halftime, and you can't back out if
Nebraska is leading by 14 or more," Sir countered.

"Deal," Henry said, and they shook hands. The whole thing made me feel like
a thing. I was just casually being bartered between friends, my wishes or
desires not coming into play at all. And, if I was being honest with
myself, for some reason, that kind of turned me on. I guess that being
traded, like a commodity, was a great way to feel completely owned.

Henry turned to me next. "Well, I assume you heard that, boy. Get over here
and stand in front of me. I want to check that ass out." I stood up and
turned around, so that Henry could see my ass. And probably touch it. But
the next thing I felt was a light pressure on my back, and I understood
that I was expected to bend over, so I did. Then Henry began mauling my ass
with his hands. He grabbed each cheek, and squeezed, hard, pulling them
around. I did my best to stand still, but I know that he was still yanking
my ass around, and I almost fell over a couple of times. "Your boy's got a
good ass. I'm definitely going to try fucking that thing," he said,
apparently to Sir.

"I figured that would happen. Try his mouth out, first, though," Sir
suggested.

"Nah, I'm saving that for after kickoff," Henry replied. Then, to me, he
said, "Turn around, boy. I want to see what you're packing."

Obediently, I stood back up and turned around, placing my cock directly in
front of Henry. "Hands behind your back, and stick your hips out," he
ordered, which I did. He grabbed my caged cock and my balls all together
and pulled them slightly, making me push my hips out even more. "You
enjoying this, boy? Your cock is trying to get hard, though that cage is
definitely interfering."

It was true. I was turned on by being loaned out, by being used, and by
being a plaything for these two men. "Yes, sir, I'm enjoying it," I
answered.

"You really are a straight faggot. Or maybe not so straight. You sure you
ain't lying about that, boy? You sure you aren't just a straight up
faggot?" I thought he was asking rhetorically, so I didn't answer, so Henry
grabbed my caged package harder and gave it a slight twist, causing me to
gasp in pain. "I asked you a question, boy, you sure you ain't just a
faggot?"

Between gasping in response to the pain in my testicles, I say, "I'm sure,
sir. I...ooowww...I've never found a man attractive."

"Then why the fuck are you here, naked, letting a man hurt your balls?"
Henry asked, twisting harder to emphasize his point.

"I...it's hard to explain, sir. I love being owned, being a slave. Sir
makes that happen. But...oowwww...I ask myself that question all the time,
but I don't want to stop," I whimpered.

Henry seemed satisfied, because he let go of my, for lack of a better term,
manhood. Sir interrupted. "Another beer, Henry?" After he nodded, Sir
snapped his fingers at me, and I took the cue. I took their empty beer
cans, and quickly left the room. I disposed of the cans, then took two more
out of the refrigerator, which I brought back into the living room, knelt
down, and handed to the two men. They took the beers without acknowledging
me, and proceeded to talk about the game, which was about to begin,
ignoring me.

I stayed on the floor in front of Sir and Henry, and allowed my mind to
wander. How would Henry use me? He seemed likely to be even rougher than
Sir. Was that a good thing or bad thing? I didn't know.

I heard that the game had started, and I tried to follow along with the
commentary a little bit, but it didn't take long before I heard Sir say,
"Faggot, I've gotta piss." I knew what that meant. I immediately moved over
to him, as he stood up and pulled his cock out of his pants. I put my mouth
over it and within a few seconds I felt the warm piss streaming into my
throat. It tasted more acidic this time than other times, probably because
of the beer Sir had been drinking, and I was glad that he'd trained me on
less disgusting pee, so I didn't cough this up. Then I realized what I'd
just thought - glad to be trained on drinking less disgusting urine? My
life had changed so much.

As I drank Sir's piss, Henry said, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Get over here
next." So I swallowed all of Sir's piss, licked off the last few droplets,
and then moved over to Henry while Sir put his cock back in his
pants. Henry had his cock out, but he didn't get up. I put my mouth over
his cock, but immediately knew that this different angle was going to be
trouble. I wouldn't be able to use gravity to help me swallow everything,
and it wasn't long before some of Henry's pee leaked out of my mouth.

He became upset. "I thought you said he was a decent faggot, and here he is
dribbling piss on my clothes!" Henry said to Sir.

"We'll punish him for it, of course," Sir said. "Besides, I know you were
going to want to see him in pain anyway."

"Fuck yeah, I do." I finished drinking Henry's urine, and backed off,
nervous about what was going to happen next. "Let's truss him up in here
and beat the faggot."

Sir got a devious look in his eye. "I've got a better idea," he said, as he
stood up. He walked out of the room, heading down the hallway, and motioned
to Henry to follow him. Henry stood up and walked out of the room, too,
leaving me alone. I had started to wonder if I should follow him when Henry
came back with a blindfold, and laughing.

"Oh boy," he said. "You got lucky. Your owner really is a genius at
this...though I wouldn't want to be you in a few minutes. We're going to
put this on so we don't ruin the surprise." He put the blindfold over my
eyes and tied it behind my head.

In just a few moments, I heard Sir coming back down the hall, and it
sounded like he was carrying something, which he set down behind me. "Hands
behind your back, boy," he said, and I complied, feeling rope being used to
quickly tie my wrists together. Then I felt Sir's hand rubbing my ass,
putting lube in my crack, and then his finger slipped inside my asshole,
causing me to pull away slightly in surprise. Henry stepped up close and
held me in position while Sir finished lubing my hole. Then Sir said, "If
you don't mind, Henry..."

All of a sudden, I felt Henry lift me off the ground, and then I felt
pressure at the entrance to my hole. Henry lowered me onto what I assume
was some sort of dildo, holding me up slightly while I felt Sir doing
something in between my legs. I'd seen one-bar prisons online, but mostly
with women. I hadn't conceived that I would be confined in one, but I was
guessing that was my current predicament, a guess that was confirmed when
Henry set me all the way down, and I felt the dildo buried deep in my ass,
so deep that standing there was actually painful, and I immediately put
myself on my tiptoes to relieve some pressure. Sir and Henry both laughed.

Then I felt somebody's hands on my balls. It must have been Sir, because I
heard a small click, and felt him removing the cage around my penis, which
instantly sprang up once it was free of its prison. Then I felt somebody
slapping my hard cock. At first, they were doing it fairly lightly, and it
was mildly uncomfortable at worst. But then it started to get worse, as
they struck my manhood harder and harder. I heard Sir laugh, and could tell
he had moved back to the couch, so it must have been Henry beating me. I
started to whimper and squirm, but Henry didn't care. He continued to
steadily increase his punishment of my cock, until now I was crying out in
pain.

Henry stopped punishing my cock and chuckled. "It's been a while since I
had a slave of my own. I'd almost forgotten what funny noises they make
when you hurt them." Sir indicated his agreement, and I heard Henry sit
down on the couch, so that I was just left on display, to try to recover
from the cock beating I'd just sustained. I heard the announcer say that
they were coming back to start the second quarter, and a few minutes later,
I heard that Minnesota was attempting a field goal - a pretty short one,
too. He made it, and Henry was pretty pleased.

So pleased that he got back up and said, "Three points means three
celebratory smacks." He didn't say where, so I figured he was going to
spank my ass. I was wrong. When the first blow landed on my balls, I
screamed in pain. He hadn't used his hand, he'd used something else. I
wasn't sure what, but it might have been a riding crop or something
similar. But he didn't tap my balls lightly, he smacked them, and I
screamed and bent over as far as I could, given the dildo deep in my ass.

Henry grabbed ahold of my hair and pulled me up straight, then struck my
balls again.I screamed again, but couldn't double over, because Henry
continued to hold me up. Then he struck me a third time, and I was a crying
mess. I must have missed Sir standing up, but I heard him next to me,
saying, "Give me that crop, Henry. Nebraska allowed three points. That's
three punishment smacks." Then I felt Sir's hand on my throat. He didn't
squeeze, but just held me in position before smacking my chest, hitting me
right on the nipple. He quickly repeated it, striking my other
nipple. Then, before I'd barely had a chance to react to that hit, he
smacked the head of my cock, causing it to explode in pain. I screamed, and
jerked, and all I did was drive the dildo deeper into my ass, while Sir and
Henry howled with laughter.

Sir and Henry went back to the couch, while I whimpered and wondered why I
let myself be treated this way. Why was I still here, and not insisting
that it was time to go home, to go back to my own life? I had a good job, I
could provide for myself easily enough, and did I really need to be a
plaything for other men to hurt and mock? But I had to face the truth - I
loved being property. I loved being a plaything, a toy. And what was more,
I was starting to love being Sir's plaything. After all, here I was,
impaled and unable to move, naked, having been beaten, and my cock was
still rock hard.

After a few minutes, Sir said, "You know, halftime isn't too far
away. Anything else you want to try out on my faggot before you make up
your mind?"

Henry thought for a few seconds. "You say he's a pretty good cocksucker?"

Sir nodded. "Especially considering he didn't start having throat training
until last weekend, I'd say he's almost a natural." For some twisted
reason, his response made me almost proud.

"And what about his ass? Is he a good fuck?" Henry asked.

"His ass is very tight. I'm working on it, but he'd not been fucked before
I got my hands on him. He's learning. But his tightness makes up for what
he lacks in experience. I'd rate him an excellent fuck slut." Once again, I
was proud. Of being a good fuck. For men. What the hell happened to me? How
much of a slave was I, really?

"Then I'll take your word for it, and I'll accept him. I assume you've got
some good halftime fun planned?" Henry asked.

Sir laughed and said, "You know it. But I won't spoil the surprise. For you
or the fag."

Henry also laughed, and said, "That's fair. I'll accept what you have to
say about his throat and ass - you certainly know what you're talking
about." I had to agree with that, Sir did seem to know what he was
doing. Which made me concerned about halftime - what sort of torment would
I be subjected to during halftime?

They left me to squirm and wait, but I didn't have to wait too long. In a
few minutes, I heard the announcer say that it was halftime, and Sir and
Henry got up from the couch. Sir put the blindfold back on me before
lowering the dildo that was in my ass, releasing me from the prison. He
told me to get down on all fours, and I heard him clip a leash to my
collar, which was followed by a tug on the leash. I obediently began
crawling. I was quickly led outside and across the patio into the
yard. There, Sir stopped, and told me to stand up. He quickly tied my arms
and hands apart, so that I was standing spread-eagle, and still
blindfolded.

Then I felt a marker on my chest. He drew a large circle around one nipple,
then the other. Then he drew an even bigger circle on my stomach, followed
by a small circle around my crotch. Then he labeled each circle with some
figure, which I guessed was a number, a guess that was confirmed shortly.

Sir walked a little ways away and began speaking, loudly enough that I
could hear him clearly. "In honor of the day's festivities, I came up with
a little football game. As you can see, my slave has multiple parts of his
body circled and labeled with a point indicator. We will take turns
throwing a football at him. If you hit one of the areas, you get that
number of points. So his stomach is worth one, either of his nipples are
worth three, and his cock and balls are worth 5. If you manage to get him
to cry out in pain, you get an additional two points. The winner will get
to decide which hole he's going to use at any point during the second half,
and when to switch."

Henry laughed. "Sounds like a great game. You're going down."

I was not as amused at this game. Not only was I going to be in a
tremendous amount of pain, my pain was being used to decide how I would be
used, without any say in the matter. Of course, I knew I wouldn't have any
say in how I was used, but to have it decided by a game made me feel
trivial. I thought about trying to stop this, but I knew that if I did
that, and didn't end this, Sir would punish me far worse. And as bad as
this was, I recognized that I was still turned on, that although I hated
what was happening, I loved that it was happening at the same time.

The first ball hit my leg. It hurt, and I'd probably have a bruise, but if
that was as accurate as they were going to be, that wasn't awful. No points
for anybody. The next ball hit me right in the stomach, though, knocking
the wind out of me. I couldn't prepare for it, because I couldn't see the
balls coming, still being blindfolded.

The next ball hit me right in my privates. I couldn't help myself and
screamed in pain. I tried to double over, to protect myself, but I
couldn't. I could hear Sir and Henry laughing at my pain. After a few
seconds, though, Sir snapped, "Stand still, boy! We can't hit you if you're
thrashing around like that." I forced myself to stand still, even though I
knew that the only thing I was going to receive for my trouble was more
pain. Again, I was hit in the crotch, and pain shot through me, making me
scream again. I heard Sir and Henry approach, and pick up the balls, and
Sir announced the score - "Eight to seven. You're going to have to pick it
up."

The next shots came fast - another one to my stomach, and one to my left
chest. Then my left chest and my balls again. By this time, I was too
exhausted to scream. I'd been tormented all afternoon, and was ready to be
done. But Sir announced the score again - "Twelve to eleven, and I'm still
winning. One more round."

Ok, I was almost done. Well, with this. I had the promise of being mouth-
and ass-fucked to look forward to. But compared to the amount of pain my
cock and balls had had, I was actually looking forward to sex, even if it
wasn't particularly gently. Anything to give me some other kind of
attention. While I was realizing that I was actually looking forward to
having another man's cock in my ass and mouth, the first ball hit my
crotch, and I groaned aloud. The next ball hit my thigh, then my stomach
was hit, and I heard a final ball miss completely.

"You choked," Henry said, as he and Sir neared me. "Just like this fag's
going to be doing on my cock soon. You ready to get me off, fag?" he asked,
as he lightly smacked my cheek.

I was exhausted, in pain, and knew that I was far from done. I was almost
hanging from my bonds, and could only mumble, "Yes, Sir Henry." I felt Sir
untying my legs, and then my arms, and I made sure not to fall over, but it
took effort.

Sir took off the blindfold. "Collect the balls, boy, and bring them in the
house. You can have a drink of water, then come into the living room.

"Yes, Sir," I said, as they walked into the house. I picked up the
footballs, struggling to carry four at one time, and put them in the
garage, where I'd seen sporting equipment the previous weekend. Then I went
into the house, and poured myself a full glass of water from the tap, which
I gulped down. I got down on all fours and crawled into the living room,
where the second half of the game had already started. Sir had brought the
spanking bench I'd been on last weekend into the living room. I was
actually grateful for that - I hoped it meant that I'd be strapped down,
and would be expected to be more a passive recipient than an active
participant in my being fucked.

As I expected, Sir ordered me to climb on, and I did. Once I was on, Sir
secured me with straps around my ankles, thighs, wrists, upper arms, lower
back, and neck. I truly could not move, even if I wanted to. Then Sir
ordered me to open my mouth, which I did, and he placed a ring gag in my
mouth, holding it open. "He's had a pretty long day. This'll make sure his
mouth stays open no matter how rough we are with him," Sir said to
Henry. Despite the indignity of having my mouth held open for another man
to stick his cock in, I was grateful; I would simply have to accept Henry's
cock, judging by his comment.

It was about then that Nebraska scored a touchdown, according to the
announcer. Henry was displeased, though I'm not sure that affected what
happened next, because he dropped his pants and stepped in front of me, his
hard cock right in my face. He took ahold of my hair and pulled my head up,
then thrust his cock deep into my mouth, causing me to gag because I hadn't
been able to adjust to his size. He proceeded to punish my throat
mercilessly, and I kept gagging while he forced his cock into my throat.

Sir, however, was pleased. "We did celebratory ball smacks last time. I
guess this time I'll spank the slave in celebration." I wanted to thank Sir
for not celebrating on my balls, because they'd taken enough punishment
today, but I couldn't, because my mouth was full of Henry's cock. While Sir
was smacking my ass with his bare hand, I realized how fucked up that
thought was - I wanted to thank a man for spanking me when his favorite
football team scored, because if he'd wanted to, he could have kept
torturing my manhood. And I couldn't even perform that lowly function,
because yet another man's cock was fucking my throat.

When Sir finished his seventh smack of my ass, I felt the now somewhat
familiar feel of a lubed finger sliding in, which was quickly replaced by
Sir's cock. Now I was truly spit-roasted, impaled on both ends by other
mens' cocks, and helpless to stop them. Not that I would. As rough as Henry
was, by this point, this was far preferable to more cock and ball
torture. In fact, Sir was almost taking it easy on me. His fucking was
slow, almost sensual. He was taking his time, though he got excited again
very quickly when Nebraska scored a field goal to make the score 10-3,
causing him to smack my ass three more times before fucking me again.

Henry, meanwhile, was even more unhappy. He pulled out of my mouth, and
slapped my face with an open palm three times, hard. My face was stinging,
but he simply pulled my head up again and thrust his cock back into my
throat. By now I wasn't gagging with every thrust, not that it mattered to
him whether I gagged or not. I was hopeful that he'd cum soon, and that Sir
would win the bet. Not because I wanted to fuck Henry in any way, but he
was definitely rougher than Sir was, and I wasn't sure I wanted to spend a
weekend as his slave.

It wasn't long before Henry's pace caused him to cum. I could feel his cock
start to twitch, and knew it was coming. As he came, he pulled his cock out
and blew his load directly into my face, with spurt after spurt of semen
coating me. Henry then literally rubbed in the humiliation, rubbing his cum
all over my face.

Sir continued to slowly fuck my ass while Henry sat back down on the
couch. Slowly, but deep, Sir pushed his cock into my hole, causing me to
start to moan with pleasure, and not just physical pleasure. Despite
everything Sir had put me through, despite my balls having a deep ache,
despite my exhaustion, despite my humiliation, I was happy to serve him,
even as a passive receptacle for his cock. The gentleness, after the
roughness of the last few hours, was soothing, and made me appreciate his
ownership all the more - when he knew I was physically spent, he could
still get pleasure from me in a way that satisfied both of us.

Sir fucked me for the whole third quarter, and into the fourth. Finally, he
thrust one last time into my ass, and held that position while his cum
blasted inside my hole. He pulled out, slapped me on the ass, and sat next
to Henry, leaving me strapped to the bench and unable to move. Henry said,
"That sounded like the fag enjoyed it."

"I think he's learning. It won't be that long before he craves being
fucked. Though the way this is going, he might just get his first taste of
fucking," Sir responded, teasing Henry about the score.

"Yeah, we'll see about that. I'm going to have to try that ass out,
though. It sounded like a good time. I'm not going to be as kind to him as
you were, though. You're a big softie." As he said that, Henry got up and
approached me, putting his cock in my face. "Get it hard, boy," he
ordered. I immediately put it in my mouth, not wanting to draw his wrath,
and bobbed my head up and down on it as best I could. Soon, Henry was hard
again, and he moved behind me.

I felt the pressure of his cock at the entrance to my asshole, and took a
deep breath and forced myself to relax, even though I was worried about how
hard he was going to fuck me. Henry spanked my ass twice, and then spit
onto my hole, followed by quickly inserting his cock and thrusting hard. He
proceeded to pound me, slowly, but in contrast to Sir, his thrusts were
hard and fast, followed by slowly pulling out, only to ram his cock home
again. I found myself moaning as he pulled out, followed by sharp gasps as
Henry thrust into me again and again. With just a few minutes left in the
game, Minnesota scored a touchdown to tie it at 10. Henry's spirits were
immediately lifted, although all thoughts of celebratory torture were gone
as he fucked me. Finally, Henry started to cum, and he pulled out and
squirted his seed across my back, before sitting back down to watch the end
of the game.

As it happened, Minnesota ended up with a chance to kick a game-winning
field goal as time expired. Henry said, "I'm going to get your slave for a
weekend. Are you ready for that, boy? You're going to be mine for a whole
weekend."

I couldn't respond, with the gag in my mouth, but I was wishing for a miss
and overtime. I did not want to be Henry's slave for a whole weekend. But I
also knew that I wouldn't get the choice, and the deal was sealed.

Minnesota hit the field goal. Fuck, I was going to have to spend a weekend
as Henry's slave, probably being tortured all the way to my
limits. Fortunately, bound and gagged as I was, I couldn't react much, so
there was no chance of offending Henry, or Sir, for that matter. Henry
spent a little while gloating about it, and Sir was a good sport. None of
the gloating was directed at me, though, which felt even more
humiliating. I was the real loser of the bet, but I wasn't worth rubbing
that fact in; I was a prize, a thing, instead of a person who lost a bet I
hadn't even made.

After some time, Henry suggested that he had to use the restroom, but he
wanted me to go with him, so Sir and he unstrapped me and helped me down
from the bench. Sir took the gag off, and I worked my jaw for a while,
because it had started to hurt. Henry said, "Alright, let's go, boy. I need
to piss, and I want to clean my mess off of your face. We can do that at
the same time." I followed Henry to the bathroom, and knelt down in the
bathtub, then closed my eyes. Henry aimed his dick at my face and let loose
a stream of hot piss, which splashed against my face. I could hear him
chuckling as he moved his stream around to hit different parts of my face.

When he was done, Sir called out, "Stay there, slave. I'm going to be back
in a minute."

As Henry got dressed, he said to me, "Well, your owner was right, you were
a lot of fun. I'm going to be seeing you, and I'm going to look forward to
it. I've never had a straight fag all to myself before, so we'll see what I
can come up with to do with you." Then he left, and I heard Sir walk him to
the front door.

Sir came back, and said, "I've got to go, too. Since he pissed all over
you, I may as well, too." So I closed my eyes again, and Sir let loose a
stream that hit me in my chest. While he pissed on me, Sir said, "You were
a good slave today, and I know we were hard on you. I'm impressed. I wasn't
sure you could take all of that, but you did. And you have clearly accepted
that you're my property to do with what I please. You didn't even protest
when I bet you, which is good. I wouldn't have accepted a protest. You
agreed to be my property, to give to whom I please, however I please. We'll
work out a weekend for you to go to Henry. But in the meantime, shower,
shave, and then we'll lock your dick back up and eat dinner. You've earned
a warm shower."

"Thank you, Sir," I said, as he left the room. I turned on the shower,
enjoying the warm water and the pressure on my aching muscles. I resisted
the urge to masturbate, although just the thought of it after a week of
denial made my cock hard. I didn't think Sir was going to let me orgasm,
but I hoped he'd consider doing it as a reward and the most expedient way
to get me soft again.

I finished washing myself off, making sure I removed the marker circles Sir
made earlier, and shaved my hair off so that I was smooth. I turned off the
water, and dried off, then got on all fours and crawled towards the dining
room to find Sir. He was there, cooking. I had been correct in my
assumption that he wouldn't let me cum, because he ordered me to stand in
the corner and tell him when my cock was soft. So I stood naked in another
man's kitchen, waiting for him to lock my cock back up in a chastity cage.

Finally, the boredom of standing there made my cock soft, and I informed
Sir. He quickly approached me and had me turn around, then expertly slipped
the cage back on, so that once again I would be unable to get hard. Sir
then had me kneel next to him while he finished cooking, and he asked me
what my thoughts on serving Henry were.

"I didn't like him," I said, truthfully. "He was much crueler than you are,
and I felt like I was a toy for him. I know that I've accepted that I'm
your property, but you make me feel like a slave - a person that is
property. You don't forget my personhood."

Sir nodded. "Henry always was harder on his slaves. We've shared many over
the years. He'll respect your limits, and the limits I tell him to respect,
but he's definitely more interested in what he's doing, rather than what
you're experiencing. But he also won't be as hard on you over the course of
a whole weekend. He understands endurance, and he knows what he's
doing. But he will push you."

I nodded in understanding. Sir finished our meal, and put some on a plate
for me, which he set down on the floor next to his chair. "Eat up, boy," he
said. I hadn't realized how hungry I was, and I greedily ate all of what he
gave me while he ate his meal. When we were both done, Sir instructed me to
wash the dishes and then join him in the living room. I quickly washed up,
and then crawled to the living room.

Sir said, "I'm not going to use you any more today. I'm tired, and I know
you're tired." He held up a pair of leather cuffs, which he used to secure
my wrists behind my back, then had me lay on the couch, with my head in his
lap, while he watched TV. He stroked my hair, and I felt very relaxed. I
realized as I lay there that if he hadn't had his pants on, his cock would
have been right in front of me, and even as tired as I was, I would have
happily pleasured him. That thought made me feel weird - I'd happily suck
another man's cock? What was happening to me?

After a while of that, Sir said it was time to go to bed. He helped me
stand up, and led me to his bedroom, gently leading me by my caged cock and
still-sore balls. I laid down in his bed, and Sir laid down behind me, and
I quickly went to sleep in the arms of my owner.