Author's Note:
This story is intended for people over 18 only. All characters are over 18. Please understand that although this story depicts unprotected sex with multiple partners and/or complete strangers, such actions are unwise and unsafe. Please always use protection.
Please send any feedback to matthew.david.david@gmail.com.
Beach Wedding Slave Part 8
I awoke during the night to find Trent's cock nestled in the crack of my ass. Wes lay on the other side of me, sound asleep with his face turned away. Trent's hand lay draped softly over my chest. I pushed myself back into him, hoping that maybe he might respond in my favor.
He did, in a way. He began to waken and his cock stiffened between my cheeks. I knew he was awake when he pulled me against his chest and pushed his hips forward. The tip of his prick pushed against my hole, still slick from Wes's load. With another slight push of his hips, the head of his cock slipped inside me.
I let out a soft moan and held onto his arm wrapped tight around me. Trent pulled out and pushed the tip of his manhood back in a couple times, pulling himself out each time I tried to push myself deeper on him. It was clear that he was teasing me.
He whispered in my ear, "Get up, we're going for a walk."
He pulled himself out of me one last time and we quietly got out of bed. Wes showed no sign of awakening; he appeared to be a heavy sleeper. Trent handed me my swimming trunks from earlier and one of the tshirts that had been used to bind Wes on the bed. He dressed as well and a minute later we were outside under the light of the moon.
The resort was very quiet, it was well past midnight. Trent put his arm on my shoulder as we walked. "I'm hungry," he said.
He led me to the snack bar, which was completely empty except for the bartender chatting with the cook. Lively Cuban music was playing over the patio, the volume turned down low considering the time of night. Trent motioned for me to take a set while he went up to the counter to order himself some food. He returned a moment later with a beer, and a large glass of soda which he offered to me. "Food will be a minute," he said.
We sat for a short time, enjoying the music and the cool evening air. Trent eventually broke the silence, saying, "I trust you've been enjoying yourself so far, Matthew. You aren't regretting your decision, are you?"
I took a moment to think about my answer before replying. "I am enjoying myself, Sir. I have had the hottest sex of my life with you and Wes. It's just that... well..." I didn't know what to say. Trent looked at me reassuringly, he really had a strange mix of kindness and dominance about him.
"Well... when am I going to be able to cum, Sir? I've had this cage on my cock for days, it's really starting to cramp my style - you know what I mean?" And then I blurted, "And when are you going to fuck me already?"
Trent let out a laugh, I must have sounded ridiculous. "Well how does this sound, every time I cum in you, you get to cum too? I like a bit of buildup, unlike Wes. And I can promise you this, I am going to fuck you, Matthew. But I will decide when that happens, not you."
He was not being unkind, he was being direct. "Yes, Sir," I replied.
"You don't have to call me that when it's just you and me," he said. "You can call me Trent." And at that moment, the bartender arrived with food. He set a plate loaded with a burger and fries down, and another plate with a small pizza. Trent handed him a small tip and then motioned towards the food, "You can have first pick."
My hormones must be all askew since my breakup with Scott... First I find myself acting like a whore with random strangers, then I'm falling for my straight friend, and now I'm starting to feel a real connection to this dominant man while I sit before him with his boyfriend's load still warm in my ass. What is going on with me? "I'll take the pizza," I said.
Trent laughed and said, "I'd hoped you would. We can share the fries."
While we enjoyed our food, Trent and I spoke of many things - it almost felt like we were on a date. He asked me about my life back home and told me about how he and Wes met. I found myself opening up and I confided in him about my encounter with Ryan and asked him for advice.
"Well, I think you already know the answer to that," Trent replied. "He's not going to be your boyfriend, he just got married. He may be attracted to you but sex is all you're going to get out of him, and by the sounds of it it's a bit one sided. I'd say he's good for a fuck, but friendship is going to be a more fulfilling relationship. Besides, a good looking young guy like you can get fucked by just about anyone, why waste your time on dead-end sex?"
I had to agree, Trent had a good point. I helped him finish off the french fries and Trent suggested we go for a walk along the beach. He put his arm around me again, and we walked together through the sand under the light of the full moon. "We better head back before Wes notices we're gone. He's can get a little jealous sometimes." I was worried that may be an understatement.
We returned to the room and undressed to get back into bed. Wes hadn't moved an inch since we left and was snoring quietly on the edge of the mattress. I crawled under the sheets and Trent slid in after me before enveloping me in his big arms. His body was so warm and felt amazing pressed against my own. He closed his mouth onto mine and we made out for what felt like hours, our hands eagerly exploring each other's bodies. His cock stiffened against my thigh and I could feel the wetness of his precum on my skin, my own caged dick pressing uncomfortably into his abdomen. When I reached down to stroke his manhood, he gently pulled my hand away and whispered 'no' in my ear.
It was late and we were both getting tired. We ended up falling asleep in each other's arms as the night's darkness began to fade, lulled to sleep by the rhythm of Wes's gentle snores.
Morning came and I found myself lying in bed, Trent and Wes had already risen and were preparing for the day. I must have been pretty wiped out, I didn't hear them stir until Trent shook me awake.
"We're going for breakfast," he said. I struggled to wake myself up and get out of bed, but Trent continued, "You're not invited." He must have seen the disappointment on my face because he added, "We'll bring you back something, don't worry. You're staying here."
Wes came up beside his boyfriend, looking fresh and cheerful. "Turn over," he told me. I rolled over onto my stomach, unsure of what he had in mind. He pulled the sheets down to expose my ass and I turned over my shoulder to see what he was up to. Wes produced a thick black marker and drew something on my skin. I couldn't quite make out the letters, but knew he had written a word at the top of my ass. He tossed the marker down onto the bed as he finished. "Perfect."
Trent saw the mark and shook his head, but didn't say anything further in protest. "Matthew, if anyone knocks on the door I want you to open it, do you understand?" I rolled over onto my back as I nodded my head in agreement.
"Say you understand," he commanded.
"Yes, Sir. I understand." What did he have in mind? My cock began to stir in the chastity cage.
"Good. We'll be back later, you can do as you please but you are not to leave the room and you are not to put on any clothes." With that, Trent slapped Wes on the ass, hitting him square between the legs. By the way he practically jumped in surprise, I could tell Wes still had the buttplug lodged up his hole. And then they were off to breakfast leaving me alone and naked.
I lay in bed for a few minutes, pondering my situation. My encounter with Ryan was already beginning to feel like a memory, my submission to Trent - and to a lesser extent Wes, was my reality. It was one I was growing to quite enjoy.
I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, eager to see what Wes had written on me. As I caught a glimpse of my backside in the mirror, the word SLUT was scrawled across the top of my cheeks in thick black letters. The tip of the 'L' disappeared into the crack of my ass. Thankfully, it was low enough that a pair of pants would easily cover it.
I busied myself about the room, looking through Trent and Wes's things out of curiosity. They had a couple large suitcases full of clothes and tucked away in the closet was a duffle bag full of sex toys and erotic clothing. Trent's leather chaps and Wes's harness from yesterday were in the bag, as well as a small assortment of dildos and other odds and ends. These guys came prepared, I thought to myself.
As I was examining the bag there was a knock at the door. Trent and Wes had only been gone for a short while, they couldn't have finished breakfast yet. It was time to find out what they had in store for me.
I paused a moment before opening the door. I was completely naked, my dick locked in a plastic cage and the word SLUT scrawled over my ass - I was hoping to hell that this didn't turn out to be something I would regret. I opened the door and sucked in my breath.
Well, I must have looked as confused as the maid did standing on the other side of the door. She was an older Cuban woman, in her late 40s. She stood there with her cleaning cart, holding a note in her hand, a five peso bill tucked under the paper. It was a considerable tip I knew, and likely more than she made in wages for an entire day of work. A quick glance told me the note was written in Spanish.
She broke the silence first, saying in thickly accented English, "Your man, he says you clean the room." She didn't wait for a response as she pushed her cleaning cart past me and made her way into the room. I stood there dumbfounded for a moment before closing the door, incredibly embarrassed. I followed her into the room.
She seemed to show no notice of the fact that I was naked, nor to the chastity cage between my legs. She motioned towards the cart even as she was moving a chair in front of the tv. "You clean. I watch TV. 20 minutes." I was at a loss for words. She had already turned her attention away from me and was focussed on what appeared to be a Spanish soap opera. I began to look around on her cart and accidentally toppled over a small pile of linens. She got up from her chair with a heavy sigh before grabbing a bottle of liquid cleanser and rag from the cart. She shoved them into my hands and pointed towards the hall, saying, "Bathroom."
I did as I was told, my face flushed red in humiliation. Was it wrong of me to be feeling turned on right now? The control Trent had over me, even when he was nowhere near, was making my dick strain in the cock cage. I resigned myself to cleaning the bathroom, starting with the sink and counter before moving to the bathtub.
I must have been taking too long because the maid came in while I was working on scrubbing the toilet, fresh towels in her hands. She looked at me and made a 'tsk' sound as she saw the writing on my backside. She gave me a stern look and said, "Too slow."
She examined my work, seeming to be satisfied, and then took her cleaning supplies back. Her cart was already by the door, ready for her to move on to the next room. "Again tomorrow," she said as she left me alone. She had changed the bed and tidied the main room while she had been watching TV. I sank down into a chair to collect my thoughts, pondering my humiliation. At least no one had taken any damn pictures this time, I thought.
Trent and Wes returned about half an hour later. Trent took a look around the room and said, "Nice job, boy, looks clean." I felt my face redden. He pulled a pair of his boxer shorts out of one of the suitcases and tossed them to me. "Put these on," he said.
Wes had an armful of food when he came in and had since gone out onto the balcony. I slipped into Trent's boxers, they were too large for me and I had to hold them up to keep them from falling to my ankles. At least they provided some coverage, and the thought of Trent's big cock and round ass touching the same fabric as mine was a big turn on. I followed him out onto the balcony.
Wes had set up a light breakfast on the small table, several pieces of fruit and some baked goods. He was even kind enough to sandwich several slices of bacon between a folded piece of bread for me. He was just finishing pouring a glass of juice from a plastic bottle when I took a seat.
He made his way around us and went back into the room as Trent took the other seat beside me. "Enjoy your breakfast," he said. "We're going to the beach when you're finished." I ate enjoying the morning sun while Trent busied himself with his book.
When I was finished, Trent got up and opened the balcony door. "I'll take those boxers back," he said. I flushed in embarrassment but moved to obey, sliding the underwear down and handing them to him. I remained in the chair, holding my hands over my groin to cover myself. "I'll be right back," Trent disappeared into the room with his boxers clutched in hand, closing the sliding door behind him.
He didn't come right back, in fact it was closer to 10 minutes later when the door slid open and he reappeared. I had begun to relax, the balcony actually provided pretty good cover unless you were standing up. He tossed me the blue swim trunks I had brought with me yesterday. Without standing, I slid them on. It wasn't until I stood from the chair that I realized the seam down the back of the trunks had been split, allowing a hole several inches wide to appear when I moved my legs.
Before I could say anything, Trent said, "Looks like you've got a bit of a problem with your trunks." What an understatement.
Trent motioned for me to join him in the room. Once inside, I pondered what he was up to, I certainly couldn't go to the beach with a hole in the ass of my swimsuit.
"Wes went down to the gift shop to pick up some sunscreen. If you hurry down, I bet you could catch him and he can get you a new swimsuit." Trent's look was intense, but the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards as if fighting a smile. He led me to the door and practically pushed me out after I put on my sandals. I heard the lock close behind me and knew I had no other choice.
I hurried my way along to the gift shop, through the crowded lobby, trying my best to hold the pieces of fabric together with a hand as I went. By pulling the trunks tight in the back, I was effectively accentuating the front, my caged cock and padlock bulge painfully on display. I hoped no one was paying much attention to my awkward shuffle.
I made it to the gift shop with only a few odd glances from other resort visitors. Wes was already at the swimsuit rack, ruining the coincidence of my wardrobe malfunction. "Bout time you got here," he said, his tone more friendly than it had been yesterday.
He handed me three suits on plastic hangers and said, "I took the liberty to pick out a few for you to try on." He pointed towards the single dressing room stall. I hung my head and proceeded to the change room. "Be sure to step out and model each one for me."
"Yes, Sir," I replied quietly, trying to avoid letting the other customers overhear me.
I closed the stall door behind me and caught my reflection in the adjacent mirrors. The rip in the ass of my trunks had gotten bigger and I was disappointed that they were effectively ruined. I took a look at the suits Wes had chosen for me, not the least bit surprised. To call them swimsuits was stretching it, they were all barely more than scraps of fabric. The first was a yellow speedo, providing around the same amount of coverage as a typical pair of my underwear. The second was a short pair of trunks, navy blue with white stripes down the side - they were barely bigger than the speedo. The last, and most degrading of Wes's choices, was a leopard print bikini. But, as I examined the tiny bathing suit closer, I realized it was actually a thong. I couldn't possibly wear that to the beach, I cried out in my mind, it was no better than that red g-string Trent made me wear in the pool.
There was a light knock on the door and I heard Wes say, "Hurry up, I don't have all day."
I resigned to yet another humiliating display, dropping my ruined suit to the ground as I tried on the navy trunks first. Maybe Wes would tire of this game before I had to display the leopard print thong, I hoped.
I opened the stall door to show Wes the suit, but instead he motioned for me to come out into the open. A few of the customers stopped to take a look at me when I began to model for Wes and I prayed they wouldn't notice the chastity device outlined under my suit. He instructed me to turn around a couple times and then walk towards the sales counter so he could get a good look at the suit. After about half a minute of this he snapped a picture with his phone and then said, "Not bad. Let's see the next one."
I tried on the yellow speedo next. It caught on the cock cage as I pulled it up and the yellow fabric did nothing to hide the odd bulges beneath once the suit slid into place. I could see the top of the letters SLUT peeking out from behind and hoped the rest of the word wasn't visible through the thin fabric. Again, Wes had me model for him while a slightly larger group of customers watched with interest. He took a second picture of me, asked me turn around and I could hear his chuckle as he took a third. "Next," he said.
My stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. I should have modeled the thong first, I thought, and got it out of the way. There were at least 10 customers gawking at me when I modelled the speedo, there was likely to be more for my third display. Reluctantly, I slid into the thong and had to laugh at myself as I felt the fabric strap wedge between my ass cheeks. It looked so ridiculous and it reminded me of a stripper calendar my mom had when I was a child. Each month featured a waxed, muscled and oiled man with frizzy long hair and a thong no bigger than my own. The cock cage was barely covered and the thin strap that ran along my back did nothing to obscure the word SLUT written on my ass. If anything, it practically underlined it.
I steadied myself for what was to come and opened the stall door. Wes let out a whistle of appreciation and I began to model the swimsuit for him as I had the others. I hung my head down in shame and hurried through the motions, eager to get this over with. When I made my way towards the sales counter I heard some customers giggling, and an older woman gasped - "For heaven's sake!" she exclaimed.
I moved to return to the stall but Wes held up his hand for me to stop, snapping photos with his other hand. "Trent is going to love these," he said before allowing me to come towards the change room. He had me turn around and he spent another few moments taking pictures of my ass, the word SLUT and the strand of leopard print fabric disappearing down my crack as his main focus.
Finally, I escaped into the stall and my humiliation began to subside. I had been so preoccupied with getting the display over with I hadn't even noticed my cock was attempting a hardon in the chastity cage.
I heard Wes say through the door, "I think we'll take the yellow one. Why don't you put it on and you can wear it right to the beach. I think Trent would like it on you the best." I had been so certain he would choose the thong, my relief was immense. I had never had the courage to wear such a small bathing suit before, and in comparison to the thong the speedo was a modest choice. I left the other two suits in the stall and met Wes at the counter.
After he paid for the swimsuit and the sunscreen, we made our way towards the beach. We must have looked like a gay couple to anyone paying any attention to us, my discomfort juxtaposed with Wes's indifference. He told me Trent had gone ahead to get us a spot, we just had to find him in the sand. The day was already hot and even though I was only wearing that small bathing suit I began to sweat. My ass crack began to feel wet and I realized that without the thin buffer of hair, my cheeks were pressed tight against each other and sweating uncomfortably. The outline of the cock cage was painfully obvious and I had to force myself not to think about it for fear of becoming obsessed with hiding it.
We made it to the sand and Wes would casually grope my ass every few minutes, tugging at the swimsuit. It wasn't until the third time he did it I realized he was trying to expose more of the word SLUT he had written on my ass. Yet another thing for me to try to put out of my mind, I thought, what choice did I have at this point?
After a bit of searching, we finally found Trent situated at the far end of a line of beach recliners. The three he had saved for us were surrounded by others occupied with all sorts of people, the beach was certainly busy today. Wes took the far recliner, leaving me the middle one. Trent complimented me on my nice bathing suit as I got settled in.
He must have used my room key, he had gathered my book and sunglasses I had left on the stand by the TV. Wes handed me the sunscreen and instructed me to apply it to Trent, and then him. I spent the next 10 minutes rubbing white cream all over their bodies, daydreaming it was something more organic I was smearing into their skin. This arrangement we had between us wasn't so bad, I thought, I enjoyed submitting to Trent's control.
Over the next couple hours we enjoyed the sunshine. Trent and Wes both made me walk down the sand to the beach bar several times to come back with cold drinks. Each time I got sent out for something was easier than the last. By my last trip I was no longer hiding my face in shame, trying hard not to care if people stared at the strange shape in my crotch or the word SLUT peeking from beneath the speedo. When I got back to our spot in the sand, Trent and Wes were talking with one of the lifeguards, a handsome dark skinned man in a small black swimsuit and white lifeguard tank top. To my surprise, Wes appeared to be speaking fluent Spanish - which would explain the note left for the maid I realized.
Trent gave up his cocktail to the lifeguard, who took it with appreciation. He eyed me up and down, focussing on my yellow speedo for a brief moment. He shook Trent's hand and said something in Spanish to Wes before departing down the sand, stopping here and there to talk with other tourists. "The locals are so friendly," Trent offered as explanation.
I sipped at my drink while Trent and Wes shared the other. When we finished, Trent said, "Let's go for a swim." We took off our sunglasses and Trent removed his straw hat. We waded into the warm water of the ocean and made our way out to where we were neck deep.
We splashed around in the water for a while, horsing around like a group of boys. I was less conscious of my situation while in the water, no one could see me in my tiny bathing suit and cock cage, and I was certain between my sweating and the ocean water the black marker on my ass must have washed away. And just when I was getting used to my lot in life, Trent shook things up yet again.
"Matthew, give me your speedo," he ordered.
I looked around, there were hundreds of people in the water with us and we had limited privacy by wading out a bit deeper than most. "Right now?" I questioned.
"Yes, right now." He had that look on his face that told me not to delay, let alone argue.
I dipped down below the water for a moment as I pulled the speedo down and slipped it off from around my ankles. I handed the wet fabric over to Trent.
"Thank you," he said as he took away the swim suit. "Wes and I are going back to the resort for lunch, why don't you enjoy the water while we're gone."
Wes swam up behind me and I could feel his hands under the water exploring my caged cock. He gave my balls a squeeze and then swam off towards Trent. "See you later, slut," Wes called to me.
I stood there in the water shocked as I watched them swim back to shore. I was completely naked in the water with this acrylic tube locked to my cock. The ocean was teeming with swimmers and I would have to make an effort to maintain my distance if I wanted to keep my secret hidden. I wish Trent would just fuck me, I thought to myself, instead of putting so much effort into shaming me. In hindsight, the humiliation was almost as much of a turn on as anticipating his cock.
I didn't have to work too hard to keep my distance from the other swimmers. Most were keeping to the shallower part of the water, but occasionally someone would pass my way. I found that if I swum out deeper than I could touch I was left pretty much alone. I couldn't tell how long I stayed in the water, it seemed like at least an hour - my skin was feeling wet and wrinkled and I longed for something to wash the taste of salt water from my mouth.
Someone was swimming in my direction and I moved off to the side to avoid crossing paths. When I turned to look towards the shore once more, the swimmer had turned as well and was once again heading towards me. As he got closer, I realized it was the life guard Trent and Wes had been talking to earlier. I stopped trying to avoid him, instead concentrated on treading water to hopefully disguise my nakedness. Maybe he had noticed I was in the water for a long time and wanted to investigate.
The lifeguard swam up close enough to talk and said, "Is everything alright, my friend?"
I pushed myself further back from him in the water and said, "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."
He looked at me for a moment before saying, "Your friend from the beach, he asked me to give you something." The lifeguard was taller than me and was clearly standing on the sandy ocean floor. He held out both hands towards me after pulling something from out of his swimsuit. In one hand he held my yellow speedo, and in the other hand he held a small brass key on a loop of string. He didn't have to explain to me it was the key for the chastity device locked on my cock.
"Your friend, he says you can have one or the other, but not both. He is waiting for you back at your room." It was hard to tell if he was smiling at me, or maybe he had just inhaled some salt water. "Which do you pick?"
Well, I could take my speedo and stay locked in this infernal cage, I thought. It was getting easier, well less difficult maybe, to suffer through an ass fucking without being able to pleasure myself at the same time. And Trent had promised he would let me cum if he came in me, I reminded myself. My other option was to take the key and get rid of the cage. I'd be able to touch my cock, to have the freedom to cum as I choose... but I'd have to make it back to the resort, and the room, naked. I didn't even have a keycard for the door anymore, who knows how long I'd be trapped outside in the nude.
It was a difficult decision, I knew, but in the end I think I chose the easier path. I reached out and took the speedo from the lifeguard's hand. He definitely was smiling, I realized, as he drew his other arm back behind his head. In a flash of panic, I watched him pitch his arm forward and the small brass key went sailing through the air before disappearing far into the ocean, forever out of my reach.