Barefoot Scrub Slave 4
A true story from my past involving bondage and discipline. Feedback to gringogoatee@yahoo.com.
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It was hard to stay dirty all week. I was still hitting the gym every day to keep toned for Master's use, and I was rank as hell by the time Saturday rolled around. I was also horny as hell. I knew better than to masturbate, as Master wants me horny for Him all the time. Every night I lay in my filthy sheets, the smell of sweat and dirt rising around me. Master didn't order me, but I walked to and from the gym barefoot, so my feet were covered in a gray coating of dirt and whatever was on the sidewalks. I got a few sidelong glances from people, but they probably just thought I was a hippie. This was San Francisco after all. It was harder to hide my smell. I barely took off my jock, so it was perpetually damp with sweat. Usually I sat in my apartment naked, but it was easier to leave my throbbing cock alone in its jockstrap pouch or the temptation to jerk off would have been as overpowering as the smell.
When Saturday finally came, I was ripe and dirty and horny enough so that my pants tented out obscenely in front. Master told me to come barefoot, of course, but also shirtless and with the used jock around my neck. The smell coming off the ribbed cotton was making my head swim a bit as I walked up to Master's apartment. Unusually, He was waiting for me out on the sidewalk.
"C'mon boy," He grabbed the nape of my neck and propelled me beside Him, not trailing as typical, but right beside. My submission was evident, however, by the pressure He put on my neck which made me bow awkwardly and shuffle along beside His strong, meaty legs. We didn't have far to walk. We walked around to the back of an old van, and Master opened the rear door and shoved me in. I landed in a heap on the metal floor, strewn with some old clothes even dirtier than the jock I had around my neck.
"Get dressed!" He barked, and slammed the doors shut. I tried to figure how to put on the filthy jeans, which were more like shorts but so torn and stained that it was hard to figure out how to make it clothing. There was no belt, but I took an old piece of rope lying in the corner and tied that around the waist. The only other items of clothing were an old pair of tennis shoes, but they were barely that. One of them was missing the sole entirely, and I had to tie the laces around the bottom of my bare foot to attach it. The other left my toes exposed and was much shorter than my foot, so they stuck out.
As I was figuring this all out, Master was waiting, turned around to look at me with a big, lustful grin on His face. When He's smiling, I'm happy, even though I must have looked ridiculous.
"Jock. In mouth." I hastily stuffed the jock into my mouth, saliva further dampening the pouch.
"Head down in the corner!" I hastily turned around on my knees and put my face down on the metal floor, ass presented to Master. He clambered over the front seat, grabbed my hands and roughly tied them behind my back with another length of rope. Without any further delay, He ripped His thick cock out of His pants and jammed it into my waiting ass. Master rutted me right there on the floor of the van, jamming His dick in and out of my ass, His bulk causing my head to slam against the corner of the van. I had to scramble with my knees to get any sort of leverage. Master used my hands to hang on for leverage as He pounded into my hole over and over again. I couldn't make much noise with the dirty jock filling my mouth, but I was uummpphing and err-ing and choking with the pain of the brutal fuck. After just five minutes, Master gave a hard push that shoved my shoulder blades against the wall of the van. My ass riding high and feet dangling in the air as Master shot His cum into my ass. The whole van must have been rocking like an earthquake.
Master didn't even bother to wipe His dripping dick. He just climbed back into the driver's seat and pulled out into city traffic. My head was still jammed into the corner, and I didn't have time to think about where we were going. I could feel Master's cum dripping down the inside of my thigh as I squared my body against the turns, breaks and accelerations. Finally, Master stopped, got out and slammed the door. Just a few moments later, He threw open the back doors.
"Get out!" I scrambled out of the high van, half falling to the asphalt below.
"Stay down, and crawl over to that cart there." I crawled over to an abandoned shopping cart, bare knees raw on the asphalt. The cart was tilted over into a ditch. Master followed, His dick still out of His pants and swaying with each step in the evening breeze. I didn't even look around to see if anyone else was there. All my attention was focused on His big piece of meat, still half hard from the earlier fuck. Master took the jock strap out of my mouth and smeared the wet cloth over my face.
"Lick my dick clean, slave!" I eagerly bent over to take the dick in my mouth. It started to harden as I slobbered all over it, but after a few seconds, Master stepped back.
"Enough! Lips on the dirt slave!" I bent my face over and kissed the ground. As they touched the earth, I felt Master's piss strike the back of my head and run across the sides of my face. Soon, my face was surrounded in a stinking yellow puddle of piss and mud. When Master's flow finally stopped, He put His big boot on the back of my head and ground my face into the mud.
"Stand up!" I hurriedly got to my feet, awkward with the attempt as I could only half see with mud still clinging to my face and my arms tied behind my back. Master reached around to untie the rope. He then untied the rope around my waist and my filthy shorts feel to the ground. I stood there, sweaty and covered in mud and piss. Master took the rope and tied it tightly around my balls until they were stretched painfully down. He left a small loop of rope and took a large, heavy lock from His pocket and snapped it shut. It pulled my balls down even lower.
"Pull up your pants, slave!" I yanked the ripped jeans up around my waist and retied the rope to keep it up. I looked down and could see the lock dangling below the ripped edge of my shorts.
"OK, here's what you're going to do. Take that cart and start collecting cans. When you've filled the cart, take it to 25th and Alameda and cash it in. Ask for Chuck. He's waiting for you. They close at 7, so you better hurry or you'll spend the night outside." With that, He gave my muddy cheek a pat, turned around, got into the van and left.
I stood there for a second, still stunned. I really hadn't recovered from the fuck, and my mind was still on my sore asshole. The cum was now dry and itching on my thigh. But now, the seriousness of the situation hit me. I was alone, wearing nothing but a pair of torn shorts and shoes that hindered walking more than helped. I better get started because I didn't want to find out what would happen if I didn't make it to the recycling center in time. As I was struggling the rickety old cart onto its wheels, Master came back around the corner. He stopped the van. I was hoping that He was going to take me home and let me clean myself and His apartment. Instead, he just rolled down the window.
"If you find any trucker bombs, I expect you to drink `em down! And I don't want you pissing either. You hold that piss in until I tell you that you can empty your bladder. And there's one right there!" He pointed about 10 yards up the road. There was a two-quart milk jug, capped and about half filled with a yellowish liquid.
"Drain it slave! I want to see that piss in your belly." It was the worst piss I ever drank. Master's strong morning load was better than this stale, hot liquid. I gagged as I tilted it up and started pouring it down my throat. It almost burned on the way down, not really from the heat, though it had been lying in the sun for a while. It was more the strength of the piss. I hoped that I wouldn't find any more trucker bombs on the way to the center.
Of course, that's not the way it happened, although there were only two more. It was vile, but I knew that Master wanted me to drink it down. By then, I had been picking up cans and bottles for about three hours, and the piss was straining in my gut. I knew I wasn't far away from 25th. I'd nearly filled the cart. With the piss and my sore feet and my aching back, I hardly noticed the dull ache in my balls, still tightly tied and weighed down with the lock. If I moved suddenly, the lock would crash against my leg.
By the time I got to the center, I was almost hobbling. But, my cart was full and it wasn't yet 7. Master would be proud. As I wheeled the cart through the opening in the chain link fence. By the rear door, an old man with a thick gray beard sat in an old easy chair.
"Chuck?" I said tentatively, and when he scowled, I said, "Chuck, Sir?" He nodded and motioned me forward.
"Looks like you have a full load in there boy. Good. Well, I have a full load for you two. Get your mouth down here." I dropped to my knees, the lock clanking on the pavement as I did so. His dick was already out of his pants and half hard. But as I started to suck it in, He put a big paw on the back of my head and held me down. Soon, a thick spurt of hot piss filled my mouth. I started gulping it down as it became a steady stream. I gulped and swallowed what seemed like a gallon before it finally slowed to a trickle."
"Ah, that was nice, boy. Your Master has trained you well." I couldn't reply, because his swelling cock now filled my mouth and was invading the back of my throat. I started to suck, alternating with twists of my heads and swirls of my tongue. I must have been doing it right, because his dick was soon as hard as a rock and he was thrusting from the seat of the chair, battering his dick as far down my throat as it could manage. He pounded in long strokes, and I timed my breaths for the times the mushroom head of his dick was almost at my teeth before he slammed it in. He was pistoning so quickly, I didn't have time for full, deep breaths, but I got enough air to keep sucking and bobbing and weaving, though I did feel light-headed just as he shot a huge load down my throat. The second spurt of cum coated my mouth, and he withdrew his dick in time for several smaller globs to land on my face. I knelt at his feet, breathing ragged breaths, his cum sliding down my throat and down the bridge of my nose. I remembered my training enough to gasp out, "thank you, Sir!"
He chuckled and said, "the pleasure is mine boy. I'll give a good report to your Master. He's probably out front by now. It was only as I was walking quickly back to the street that I realized my bladder was still painfully full, pressing my belly out. I almost waddled out to the street where the van was waiting, rear doors open. I crawled in.
"Stand up slave!" I stood up in the rear section of the van, bent over at the waist. Master got around to the back and reached in and tied off my ankles to metal loops on either side of the van. My legs were stretched well out to either side. Even then, I still couldn't stand up entirely straight. Next Master, tied my hands off to either side near the roof. It was almost comfortable, as I didn't have to balance much. He then pushed a metal bucket up between my legs.
"Go ahead and piss, slave." I didn't even think twice. The first jet of piss hit the bottom of the bucket with a clang as I blurted out, "thank You, Sir, thank You for letting me piss!"
Master chuckled as He watched me fill up the bucket halfway. By the time I was done, my legs were shaking with the effort to get rid of the piss. When the last trickle had come out of my dick, Master grabbed the handle of the bucket, brought it up and quickly unlocked the lock and relocked it with the bucket now pulling my balls painfully down. The bucket must have pulled my balls down another inch or two, but there was still almost a foot between the bottom of the bucket and the floor. As I struggled to take a few breaths as the pain radiated from the center of my balls, the bucket started to swing.
"Don't spill any, slave!" Master was almost cheerful as He slammed the doors shut, rocking the van and causing the bucket to swing even more. The piss sloshed from side to side, and I groaned as the weight shifted from side to side. I had to keep my knees flexing as Master drove home, but despite my efforts, most of the piss had spilled onto the floor by the time He stopped.
"Good effort, boy, I saw you trying at least." He patted my head as He untied my arms and legs. "But you still have to lick it up, slave! Now" He pushed me down on my hands and knees, and I slurped around the floor trying to get all of the piss from the dirty metal floor of the van. As I tongued up the piss and the grit, Master once again put His hard dick head against my asshole.
"Beg for it, boy!" I pleaded with Him to fuck me, and on the third request, He slammed into my ass. It knocked me forward and my head collided with the bucket, sending the remaining piss all over the floor in front of me. Master started to fuck me around the floor, following the trails of piss. First bucking against my body forcing my up, then pulling on my hips to bring me back. I was like some kind of shop vac he was pulling around a garage floor, sucking up piss as He pounded my ass. I was so horny from the week of anticipation that I came in great spurts on the floor, and as Master gave a roar and came, I pushed my ass back against His trusts and sought out the cum and remaining piss as Master fucked what felt like a quart of cum into my ass.
Spent, He collapsed on top of me. "That was a great fuck. You are turning out to be one hell of a slave. I've got a surprise for you next Saturday. Clean yourself up as best as you can and get out of here." With that, Master climbed out of the van and headed off. I spent almost an hour just sitting in the van and breathing. This was more intense that I had ever imagined, but my dick was already half hard. I crawled out of the van, shut the doors and took my poor slave body home, eager for next week's adventure.