Built for Purpose Chapter 4
DISCLAIMER
This story is a work of pure fiction. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. This is my first story, please send feedback good or bad to fireypheonix1212@gmail.com and if you have any ideas on where this story could go then feel free to email those over too. I hope you enjoy chapter 4 of “Build For Purpose”. Please do not redistribute without permission!
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Built For Purpose
Chapter 4 - Introductions
DAY ONE
At 9.55 the following morning we pulled up in front of the address we were given. It looked to be some sort of office building. It was 3 stories high and all the windows on the ground floor had bars over them. It looked derelict, still in use and in serious need of some TLC all at the same time. A weatherbeaten sign stretched from one end of the building to the other told us that his building once belonged to “Pratchett’s Closets And Blinds”. There only appeared to be one entrance so we headed for that after struggling to pull our belongings out of the boot and back seat of 002’s top range SUV.
As we entered the building I could see that it was derelict but whoever owned it hadn’t allowed it to fall into disrepair. Inside the entrance was a rotund hallway, with corridors going off to the left and right, several doors along the walls and a staircase straight ahead leading up to the second and top floor. As we were looking around I heard the sounds of a suitcase being bumped up the few front steps of the entrance. I glanced over to see who was joining us. 003 walked in. We stared at each other for a moment but I didn’t take in his appearance, we said frosty hellos and I introduced 002 to him. There was a little bit of small talk between them which was interrupted by a voice that sent echos bouncing off the walls.
“Welcome fags 1, 2 and 3,” I spun to see who was doing the talking, and on the landing of the next floor up which over looked the lobby, stood a man dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt. He continued without waiting for an answer, “my name is Sir Abraham Emerson, and I am the executive assistant to Associate Warden Brent Waters.” He started walking down the stairs, “The first thing all fags must know and always remember is that when any superior is addressing it directly it must assume the ‘at attention’ position. This is eyes straight ahead, back straight, chest out, hands flat on top of each other at the base of your spine and feet shoulder length apart.”
By the time he had finished speaking, 002 and I were already in position. I could tell from the shuffling that 003 was scrambling to catch up. Sir Emerson reached the bottom of the stairs and walked over to us. He slowly circled us inspecting our positions. He made a slight correction to my hand position pulling them an inch up my back then when he was happy with all of us he started talking again. “In a few moments you will follow me, but first, is all the information we require in these cases?”
‘Sir, yes Sir.” came the chorus from 002 and me with 003 a couple of seconds behind us. I could tell from his voice that he was shitting himself. I very much doubt he’d ever been through anything like this before whereas me and 002 had some experience albeit nothing this intense.
“Sir,” 002 spoke up. “Yes fag?”, “the fag still has its car key in its pocket.” Sir Emerson extended his hand and 002 handed over the key then snapped back into position. “Take your belongings into this room,” he indicated to a room to his left, our right, “lay your cases flat on the floor. Mark them with your number using the chalk provided, remove all clothing then return here and assume this position. You have 2 minutes,” he said looking at his watch. He watched the timepiece for what seemed like ages then shouted “GO!”
I scrambled for my case, grabbing the handle in one movement and swung it behind me as I headed for the room. How coordinated am I? I heard a case fall to the floor having been knocked over in the rush. Poor 003, he’s gonna have to seriously improve his performance or he will never survive!
As I opened the door into the side room, I quickly surveyed my surroundings. It was pretty bare, one chair in the middle of the room and some flat packed boxes propped up against the far wall. There was also a window with the bars through which I could see 002’s Land Rover.
I carefully placed my suitcase on its back side, grabbed a bit of chalk what was on the chair and wrote my fag number in big blue numbers. By now all 3 fags were in the room, I passed the chalk to 002 and started to shuck my clothes, folding them neatly on top of my case and lastly stuffing my socks into Nikes and placing them on top of the pile. As I turned to leave I saw that 002 wasn’t far behind me and 003 wasn’t far behind him. I couldn’t absorb much about either of them, but I did notice that 003 had some angry looking welts spanning his ass checks and he had put on serious weight since I saw him last. 90 seconds after getting the go command, I was back in front of Sir Emerson and in position. I was able to place myself so I could have a proper look at him. He was probably in his mid 30’s, big beefy man but pure muscle. The arms of his tshirt were straining over his biceps and I could see his well defined pecs and nipples easily. I could picture a hairless chest and abdomen. I mentally licked my lips. This guy had serious muscle that could be roids or could just be lots and lots of hard work, but either way he looked fucking delicious. He also seemed to have a very generous package. Whoever he was shagging was very lucky!
002 arrived at my side about 15 seconds later disturbing my perving and 003 shuffled into place 10 seconds after that, beating the deadline by 5 seconds.
“Good job fags. My associates will ensure your belongings are dealt with over the course of your time here. Kneel,” he commanded. We sank to our knees keeping our posture in our upper bodies and hands in place. “When in the kneel position, fags must maintain the same posture as in the previous position with the exception of the knees. The knees must be spread as wide possible and the fags ass should be low and kept about an inch above its heels. At no point should a fags ass rest on its feet.” We all shifted our posture and Sir Emerson did a walk around again. He seemed satisfied with all of us. “When it needs to move around in the presence of a Sir it must stay on all fours. No exceptions unless the Sir has instructed some action that mandates that it raises onto its knees or feet like reaching for something. It must return to its position on all fours as soon as practicably possible. Am I making myself clear?”
“Sir, yes Sir!”
“A fag must ever speak unless spoken to and must never interrupt a Sir. If a fag is speaking when a Sir starts to speak, the fag must stop immediately. It also does not have the option to complain or object as described in its information email. Understood?”
“Sir, yes Sir”
“Follow” he said as he spun on his heels and started walking away. I let my body fall forward and as my hands smacked the cold floor, Instead of going up the stairs he led us underneath the staircase to a door that hadn’t been visible before due to the curvature of the wall. He opened the door and went inside. It was pitch black! When the door closed behind us there was no light in the room at all. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I could see the shadowy outlines of 3 or 4 other people and hushed whispers coming from directly in front of us.
After what felt like forever someone flicked a switch on the wall and the room was semi illuminated by 3 directional spotlights shining from high above us onto the floor with each creating a neat circle. Sir Emerson walked to each light circle in turn telling us which fag was to go to which circle. As I reached mine, the middle one, I saw a small stack of papers. It was a contract signing over all my belongings to the Bluewater Group amongst a variety of other things. “Read these and sign and date on the first page, then initial and date all the remaining pages. None of you will move on until all have signed these contracts. I noticed that each circle of light now had someone standing at the opposite side of it. Witness maybe? I signed my pages without thinking and without reading. The lawyer in me was telling me that you should never sign something you have not read, but all I could think was, ‘does it really matter?’ I placed my pages and pen back within the light and not sure of what position I was meant to take I settled on the kneel position.
I saw from the corner of my eye that 002 hadn’t read his pages either as his were actually back in the light before mine. 003 on the other hand must have read them word for word because he started to sob. Eventually he scribbled his signature and put his papers within the light too. Seconds later a door opened to our left. “Follow” and the silhouette of Sir Emerson filled the rectangle of fluorescent light as he left.
I blinked rapidly to force my eyes to focus on my new surroundings. We seemed to be in some sort of communal shower room. Cold white tiles from floor to ceiling, one drain in the middle of the floor and a series of hoses and pipes against the far wall. The room wasn’t huge, maybe twice the size of your average bathroom at home. There were no windows in this room, but at least there was light emanating from the bulbs suspended from the dirty white ceiling. We were told to stand and not move and Sir Emerson gave us a spot to stand on. He opened a door against the back wall to the left of the pipe works and left. 3 figures walked in, each of them wearing head to toe rubber suits that reminded me of something between a gimp suit and a hazmat suit. You couldn’t see their faces at all.
One of them stood in front of one of each of us then moved behind us, my arms were forced above my head and I could feel shackles being fastened around my lists. Once we were all restrained, one of the rubber figures pulled on a chain that had been hooked to the wall. As he pulled on the chain, the pressure grew on our arms and very soon we were balancing on our tip toes. Unfortunately for 003 this meant that he was dangling about half a foot off the ground, slowly spinning clockwise.
I hadn’t noticed that the rubber figures had each picked up what could only be described as fire hoses and one pulled a lever on the wall. Ice cold jets of water came rushing from the hoses towards us. It hit my body like a million knives stabbing at me. I screamed. I didn’t mean to, and I wasn’t the only one either. The water was directed all over me while avoiding my face, the pain was indescribable. As suddenly as the water started, it stopped. We were sprayed with some sort of chemical and scrubbed with long handled soft brushes. In the moment of silence before the water started up again I could hear 003 sobbing again and sniffing. 002 and I were half facing each other and I was able to bob my head to him to indicate a “you ok?”, he understood my motion and gave me a slight nod, “yeah”. I immediately felt better. We were hosed down again, lowered and released. Standing at attention until we were thrown threadbare towels which barely held any water. I’d hardly dried my arms before the towel was saturated.
Before we were even remotely dry the door opened and Sir Emerson’s figure filled the space. “Follow”, we all sunk into our hands and knees and crawled after him. We went through a small empty room, through another door and found ourselves back in the main atrium. We’d gone full circle. Sir Emerson kept walking and started ascending the stairs. We struggled to keep up while taking the stairs on all fours, plus our wet bodies were making us slip on the marble tiled floor.
When Sir Emerson reached the landing he took a sharp turn to his left and stopped momentarily in front of 2 large mahogany doors adorned with brass fixtures. We formed a line of freezing, wet faggots behind him while he gave the door 3 loud knocks. A second later you could hear a voice saying ‘enter’. As Sir Emerson opened the left door he positioned his body so that we could pass him. Another guy had opened the other door from the inside and stood in the same position. Once we had passed them, they shut the doors.
In front of us was a guy sitting on what could only be described as a throne. It looked ornate, intricately designed, black with yellow padding. The man sitting in it was something else. I was in awe of him. He looked to be about 35 - 40 years old and power and authority radiated from his very soul and surrounded him. He was powerfully built, had a jet black beard which was neatly shaped. He was wearing a black Bluewater baseball cap, black waistcoat, black jeans and black mid-calf boots. There was no mistake that this man was the one in charge.
Sir Emerson told us to stop when we were about 6 feet away from this deity. We assumed the kneeling position and I puffed my chest like I’ve never puffed before. If I had inflated it any more my nipples would have exploded. I breathed in to accentuate my abs, clenched my butt cheeks and stared straight ahead. Luckily for me, because I was in the middle, this meant that he was right in my eyeline and I could stare at him.
Sir Emerson and his companion walked past us to join him, they flanked him and assumed the same standing position as we had been shown downstairs. He stood to address us and his waistcoat fell open so I could appreciate more of his body. He was very hairy and had a stocky yet muscular build, he looked like a man who enjoyed playing his sports, but also loved his food. He was a proper man’s man and that only made him appeal more to me. He seemed to be slightly shorter than I am, but in superiority, he was 20 feet tall.
“Faggots,” his voice was gruff, full of unashamed authority, “Faggots, my name is Joshua Waters. You will call me Master, I am the only gentleman you will refer to as such. You have already met Sir Emerson and this is Sir Brady. I do not expect you stupid cunts to remember everyone’s names, but these two will be remembered. I am the Associate Warden of the new Bluewater Cypress Hill Detention Centre. I have been tasked to ensure your training and transition into your new life is both smooth and effective. As such, you are owned by me thanks to the contract you signed earlier.”
‘Owner?’ I thought, ‘what happened to J? There’s no way this is J, I’ve never seen this guy before in my life.’
“You’ve been made aware of the basic house rules from Sir Emerson and from the website you accessed on Friday. Do not forget these as you will not be told again!” He paused and looked at us expectedly.
Realising what was expected I said, “Master, yes Master.” And the other two followed my lead. He looked at me, his dark eyes seemed to look through mine and penetrate my soul. I shivered with excitement, or the cold, or both, but it was probably excitement because right now, the rest of the world didn’t exist. This god was looking right at me and that’s all that mattered.
He extended his hand towards Sir Brady and was handed a thick metal collar. It looked to be an inch or inch and a half wide, hinged and was secured shut with a padlock. The other Sirs also picked up collars of their own.
“Sir Emerson,” he gave a sadistic kind of chuckle, “I know how much you love your fat pigs, 003 is now your responsibility for the week.”
“Yes Master. Thank YOU!” Emerson replied enthusiastically.
Master looked me up and down again and then looked over 002, he was clearly trying to decide which of us he wanted as his primary object. I inhaled as much air as I could trying to make myself bigger and it worked. “Sir Brady, you get 002 and I will take 001.” Inside my mind was doing a victory dance! Each of the Sirs approached their respective faggots and fastened their collars around the fags necks. Each key was on a chain and placed around the Sirs neck.
Finally the Master stepped towards me. I could smell him, there was no deodorant here. He was all man, musky, sweet and sexy! He fastened the collar and stepped back. The metal was cold against my skin, “Master, thank you Master.”
I got a slap, “rule 3 you stupid piece of shit, states that no fag should speak unless spoken to!” I quivered, wanting to apologise but not daring to speak. “Lick my boots faggot”
The words had barely left his mouth before my tongue was making its way over his leather boots. They tasted so good! I was in faggot heaven right now. I licked them all over, left to right, up and down and all the way up to the rim half way up his calf. I savoured the flavour, committing it to memory. I shifted position to get the back and got my face pressed into the cold floor so I could work my tongue into the tread on the side. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be getting these boots. As I repositioned myself to get to the other side of his treads, he stepped back and sat on his throne again. I scurried after him but as I approached he raised his boots so the sole faced me. I greedily grabbed his boots at the ankle and dove onto the sole, making sure I got my tongue into every groove and licked every part of it I could. He raised his other boot, so I gently placed Masters booted foot back onto the floor and moved my attention to the other making sure I did just as good a job on this one as I had on the first.
When he was satisfied, he forced his boot out of my grasp, “On your back, head under my chair,” I quickly got into position and was pleasantly surprised to see that his throne doubled as a rimming chair. Masters jeans also had no ass to them, I hadn’t noticed before because he had never turned his back on me.
I could see his hairy crack and smell his manly odour. I’d never smelled anything so good in my life. “Lick”, immediately upon hearing my Master's voice, I raised my head, my tongue extending as far as it would go and my hands spreading his cheeks to reveal his sweet pink hole. As I got the first taste of Master, my new owner, my cock pushed against its cage. My balls were aching as they were getting pulled too, this was hands down the hardest I’d ever been in chastity. I’m sure I was leaking precum too. I licked my owner's crack from front to back, feeling the hair skimming over my tongue, then I’d go back down the other side then focus on his beautiful pink sphincter, I teased it with the tip of my finger before diving in with my tongue again. Master moaned so I doubled down. He moaned again. I was making him moan in pleasure! I as being a good faggot for him!
He applied pressure to my cage with the heel of his boot to get my attention. “Suck,” I shuffled back onto my knees in front of him. He stood and looked at me. He was expecting me to undo his belt and buttons. I was more than happy to oblige.
I pulled down his jeans to reveal a black jock and that was swiftly pulled away and I saw it… my Owner's cock. It… was… gorgeous. It was surrounded with more jet black soft pubes. It was fat… it was uncut… it was pierced with a thick PA and it was solid! It was 7 juicy, mouthwatering inches. I was drooling in anticipation. His sack hung low and full, each ball nesting nicely at equal heights and matted in a nice covering of black fur. As I went to touch it, he batted my hands away. I gently licked the tip after placing my hands behind my back, and took the head into my mouth. I could taste piss and remnants of his last orgasm. I wondered when that was.
As soon as my mouth was round his cock head properly and my tongue started to probe underneath his skin, he let a stream of hot piss fill my mouth. Surprised, I quickly started swallowing it not wanting to let a single drop escape. It tasted amazing and I sighed contentedly. I took more of his 7” member into my mouth being careful for him not to feel my teeth.
I could feel his cock head enter my throat as I swallowed the last inch into my mouth and again, I could hear him moan loudly. “Fuck yes fag, that’s how I like it. Oh fuck yes. Keep it there. Don’t move. Let Master's cock fill your throat.” I did but soon was running out of air, I coughed around his cock, but he wasn’t about to let me move, I felt his hand on the back of my head holding me in place. I coughed again, then spluttered, with one final cough I was now out of air.
Starting to panic, I sucked in air from around his cock but his cock head was blocking the air from reaching my lungs. Just as I thought I was about to pass out, he let my head go. My mouth flew off of his cock, I spluttered and coughed again, sucking in several deep breaths and jumped back onto his cock again. I sucked him like the pro I am. Alternating the speed and suction and gauging his reaction to each. He was giving me words of encouragement, telling me to take it, reminding me that I’m here to please him and that I was doing a good job.
To me, we were the only 2 in the room. A few minutes later, he’d obviously had enough of getting blown on my terms. He grabbed my head and started fucking my mouth, pushing it all the way in so my nose was in his pubes, then taking it all the way out before roughly shoving it back in to the base again. I tried to time my breathing and grab some air while I could.
Master had some stamina. His balls were still loose and banging me in the chin every time he thrust into me. He took his cock out of my mouth and told me to turn around, forehead on the floor and cheeks spread. He bent down and removed my plug and tossed it to the side. He spit on his hand and lubed up his cock, the spit directly onto my hole.
In one thrust he entered me to the base. I yelled in pain it felt like my pussy was going to rip! It quickly turned into an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain and I knew I wasn’t meant to speak, but I couldn’t help but moan. My master's cock felt amazing in my pussy! Master was getting into a rhythm now, each time he thrust into me, my forehead moved on the floor as I was forced forward.
He grabbed my hips and double timed it in my ass, he was like a fucking jackhammer. The sweat was dripping off me, waves of pleasure and pain rippling all over my body and my ass hurt like fuck. I wanted to turn my head, to see his face as he mercilessly fucked my pussy, but I didn’t dare move. He suddenly pulled right out of my hole, spat on my back and slapped my ass 3 times on each cheek. I could hear his breathing. He sounded like he was close to being exhausted. Boy was I wrong! Without warning, he shoved his cock back inside me with such force that I was shoved forward so much my balance shifted and I fell onto my stomach. He must have been expecting it because he shifted his body to follow mine, his cock never leaving my sore pussy. I was pinned under him. He planted his arms at my sides and continued to jackhammer into me. I forgot my rules for a moment and before I knew it I was moaning loudly followed by, “Fuck me Master, take my pussy, rape my fucking hole. Fuck fuck fuck!”. He didn’t slow down, he didn’t change his rhythm in any way.
“Fuck you faggot, take your Masters cock, feel it deep inside you, you fucking little queer cunt!”
“Master yes Master,” I screamed into the floor, trying to force my ass upwards to meet his thrusts and get him deeper into me. He obviously didn’t mind me talking now! He kept going for another few minutes then withdrew his cock again. With a loud popping sound, my ass was void of its pleasure. It had only been a few seconds since his cock left my hole, but I was starting to miss it already. It was the closest I’ve been to cumming in over a month but an orgasm was still outwith my reach. He stood up, booted me in balls, laughed at me then walked away. I hadn’t been told to move, but thought it best to get into the kneeling position, trying to ignore the pain pulsing through me. This gave me the opportunity to survey what was happening around the room.
I could see 002 handcuffed to his collar, impaled on a massive black dildo and sucking on Sir Brady’s thick cock like his life depended on it while Sir Brady in turn sucked on a huge cigar. Master walked past them giving Brady a high five in the process. He came to a stop at Sir Emerson and 003 where Emerson was balls deep in 003’s fat ass. 003 had his face in what looked like a dog bowl of cold porridge and the mixture was all over the bowl, the surrounding floor and 003’s face.
“Move,” Master instructed Emerson and Emerson immediately withdrew his cock and moved aside to allow Master to take his position. Master immediately entered 003’s ass while Emerson stood at attention at Master's side, his thick cock standing straight out from his zipper, glistening from 003 ass juices.
Master looked up at him, “At ease Emerson for fucks sake, get 001 over here and do what you want with it.” Sir Emerson immediately relaxed, clicked his fingers and called for me to attend to him. I crawled over as fast as I could. Sir Emerson pointed to 003’s head and said “there”. I positioned myself head beside 003’s head. I don’t know what was in the bowl, but it looked and smelled disgusting. How 003 could eat this slop was beyond my comprehension. Sir Emerson moved the bowl away with his boot and ordered 003 and I to kiss each other.
As I moved in closer, the pungent smell of the slop was overwhelming and I thought I was going to vomit. That was nothing compared to tasting it as our lips and tongues met. It was disgusting. I could’t identify what the fuck it was, but had no choice but to continue kissing my one time tormentor. He’d been crying again. “Get in closer fags,” Sir Emerson commanded, forcing our heads together with his hands. Master laughed as he continued to fuck 003. Emerson eventually kicked me away, breaking our disgusting kiss. Fag 003’s fat face was covered in red blotches and sweat. I’d never seen anything so unattractive in my life. His face contorted each time Master plowed into him and he was making these pathetic yelping sounds every time now that there was no bowl or tongue in his mouth.
Master stopped fucking him and stood up, I was hoping he was going to command me back onto his beautiful cock but instead he ordered Sir Emerson onto his knees and he swallowed Masters cock with ease. “See faggots,” the Master said, “everyone answer to me. I can have who I want, when I want, where I want and for as long as I want. You cunts better get used to it. Don’t let your pathetic faggot brains think that just because you’re not in my prison that you won’t be in my grasp. I fucking own you!” He said gleefully.
“This fag,” he continued, pointing at me, “has a talented mouth. This pig,” kicking 003 in the side causing him to fall over, “needs to feel what I felt. On your back faggot.” I obeyed, “oi, faggot pig,” he shouted at 003, “get that fucking fat pussy over its mouth. Don’t move until I tell you to.”
003 did as he was told. He wasn’t clean. I could smell and taste his ass as it hovered momentarily before engulfing my mouth and nose. I stuck my tongue out and tasted him. It tasted as bad as it smelled. I threw up a little and had to swallow my vomit back down. Master left me there for what felt like hours.
When the Master finally called for me to join him he had moved over to 002 who was now on his back. 002’s hands were tied above his head, stretched out and tied to a D-ring on the floor. The same had been done with his ankles. The dildo was still firmly implanted in his pussy. The Master was towering above him while Sir Brady was sucking the Masters cock. I felt jealous of Sir Brady. Both Sirs had put their cocks away. The only cock to be pleasured now was the Masters - and rightly so! Sir Emerson was standing to attention at the Masters side.
Master moved Sir Brady to sit on 002’s face which he did enthusiastically, and instructed Sir Emerson to fuck Sir Bradys mouth. I watched as Sir Emerson removed his cock from his jeans again. It was a monster, 9 thick inches with a heavy looking hood over the end. It was a beautiful piece but not as good as the Masters.
Master beckoned us to his side and we speed crawled over then assumed the kneeling position. ‘Watch this,” he said. He gave the nod to Emerson and Brady opened his mouth. Without any fuss or coughing, the whole thing disappeared down Brady’s throat. Emerson stayed there, unmoving and Brady didn’t move either. It must have been a minute before Emerson slowly backed off of him. “See that fags, that’s how you deepthroat. You will learn how to do that this week. Sir Emerson will call on each fag at any time to ensure all fags get some practise.”
He told 003 to suck him, and I wanted to tackle the pig out of the way. The fag pig greedily licked up my Masters perfect cock as I stayed in position. I’d never felt so low. “After your performance earlier fag, you need as much practise as possible so it will kneel there and watch an expert cocksucker at work. Next time I put my cock in your worthless mouth you won’t dare struggle.” Now I understood, I was being punished! I wanted to cry.
Sir Emerson raised his hand, like he was wanting to ask permission from the teacher to use the toilet. “No,” Master said, obviously knowing what this signal meant. Emerson eased his cock out of Brady’s mouth and stood. About 10 minutes later, Brady was still on 002’s face, the fag pig was still sucking my Master and Emerson was standing at attention while I knelt at attention. Emerson was instructed to fuck me. I got on all fours as he approached me. I felt the tip of his cock at my hole and braced myself as the pressure built up. I yelped as the cock head forced its way into me and all three of the superiors laughed. Slowly he forced inch after inch after inch into me. I soon felt his pubes on my cheeks. Then he started piston fucking into me. His slow, rhythmic, deliberate and forceful thrusts were sending waves of pleasure throughout. My body. I couldn’t help myself but every time he thrust into me I let out a ‘uh’ which only encouraged him.
“Fuck yeah faggot, take my big cock bitch,” “uh uh uh uh uh, fuck Sir, uhg... give it uhg… to me, fuck me uhg… harder. Show this uhg... faggot who the fucking uhg... boss is! Uhg uhg uhg.” That did it, he must have fucked me for an hour. Slowing down, speeding up, harder, faster, slower, he was fucking using my pussy to edge his big cock. Not allowing himself to cum… Maybe he wasn’t allowed to cum?
By the time he finally ripped his cock from my willing hole, it was dark outside the windows. 002 had been released and was licking out 003 and Brady was under Masters boots. Master ordered Emerson to put his cock away and with some difficulty managed to get it back inside his jeans. Master moved to his throne and stood facing us all, his wet thick member standing proudly for all to see. He motioned for us fags to get into 3 positions infront of him and for the two Sirs onto their knees by his side. He instructed the Sirs to lick his shaft until he came. Emerson was licking up and down the left side and Brady had the right side. We fags all knelt watching. Master eventually put his hands on the Sirs heads, just resting them, not guiding them or anything and seconds later he shot his load. Spurt after spurt after spurt, 8 in total, shot from the Masters cock and landed on the floor in front of him. The first shot almost hit 003 who was in the middle. As Master came down from his orgasmic high, he told us fags to lick up the mess and we eagerly got our faces to the ground and lapped up every drop we could find. There was a bit of a tussle, some head knocking and shoving as we fought to get the lion's share of Masters creamy load.
The Master put his cock away and told Emerson and Brady that the fags were dismissed. There were no clocks in the room. We were led out of the room and down the hall. As we entered yet another room I could see three rectangular camping mattresses arranged in an arch shape in the middle of the floor. Each mattress had a peg at every corner which was fixed into the floor. Each peg had a restraint attached to it via a short chain. In the corner there were two buckets. One marked yellow and one marked brown - our toilets I was guessing. No clocks and no windows in this room. One main light, 3 floodlights on each wall and 12, yes 12 CCTV cameras. Bolted to the ceiling, were a series of chains and pulleys, and 4 digital projectors with 1 facing each wall.
Sir Emerson told us that every corner of the room was being recorded with audio and night vision capable equipment. The lights would automatically go off at 11pm. They would flash 60 seconds before doing so and that meant that we had 60 seconds to get into position and get our shackles around our wrists and ankles before we would be plunged into complete darkness. He said that food would be with us shortly, but for now we have some downtime.
He left without any further comment.
002 and I automatically embraced, cupping each other's face with our hands and asked if we were ok between passionate and desperate kisses. He said he was and that he quite enjoyed the evening, he said it was like a trip down memory lane! We had a laugh about that then the door was opened and 3 plates of food and 3 glasses of water were placed on the ground. I didn’t realise until then that I was sore with hunger. I dove for the food. 2 plates had dry chicken, cold pasta, dry bread and some sort of slop. The third had the same but double the amount of slop. I recognised it as the same slop as 003 had in his bowl earlier. A carb heavy diet! ‘Makes sense,’ I thought aloud, ‘we’ll be needing our strength.’
“That one will be mine,” 003 said pointing at the plate with extra slop, “It’s a mix of protein supplements and vitamin powders, mixed with goat's milk, bread crumbs and oats” he explained when he saw the look on my face. “Tastes awful, too much of it will cause weight gain, but in moderation it's ok. I’ve been on 6 helpings a day every day,” he said gazing apprehensively at his extended belly.
We ate hungrily then one by one we had to use the ‘toilets’. It wasn’t long until the room stank. Of course, there was no paper. When I commented on this, 003 said he would clean us. I looked at him as if he was a bug on my windshield. “That’s fucking disgusting faggot.” “That’s why I’m here,” he countered. “Fag 003 is to announce himself as a disgusting piss drinking and shit cleaning pig after the first time the the fags go to the toilet” he recited from memory. I concluded that he had received different instructions than 002 and I had.
He started to cry, he’d done that a lot today, “I don’t want to,” he sobbed, “But I have to.” I was actually starting to feel sorry for this pig now. I bent over to let him clean me, repulsed by it.
We each sat on the mattresses not saying much, thinking about our day, wondering what time it was and all sorts going through my mind.
It wasn’t too long before the lights flashed and we all dove for the shackles. On my front or my back? I quickly weighed the pros and cons, back I decided. I lay down, clicked the shackles around each ankle and around my left wrist. The last wrist was more difficult but I managed it with about 15 seconds to spare. I had the chance to blow a kiss to 002 then everything disappeared.
Time for us to sleep. We made some small talk then could hear gentle snores coming from 002. 003 and I said good night and tried to sleep, both wondering what tomorrow would bring.
Thank you so much to everyone who has got in touch with words of support and encouragement. I truly appreciate each and every single one of you! The response has been nothing short of overwhelming!