NOTES>> This is the sixth chapter in the Contracted To Justin series. Safe sex doesn't appear in this story all that often, but I trust it appears a lot in your own lives. Sex does appear quite often though, sometimes quite graphically, and invariably of the gay and BDSM nature, so only read on if the law of your chosen land allows. The copyright is all mine, subject to Nifty's rules on the matter.
Actually, there's not much sex in this edition I'm afraid - sorry! But lots of humiliation, which lots of you seem to be enjoying most. Thanks for all your feedback - I really appreciate it. I'd never emailed another Nifty author before, but will do from now on, it really encourages you to get on with the story! Though that might just be me - I guess I like to please! Anyways, as always, words positive or otherwise to josh_armstrong2007@hotmail.com
CHAPTER SIX: Lunch
"Oh for fucks sake, you fucking filthy fuck".
Again it took me a few seconds to register where I was. Though with Justin shouting at me, it all fell into place much quicker. I was still in the kitchen cupboard. The doors had just swung open, replacing the dark with light. I glanced down at my naked body, covered in drying vomit and piss and cum. I could see what Justin meant. I did look like a filthy fuck. Though it wasn't exactly my fault.
"And why the fuck isn't this in your mouth?" he continued, picking up his jockstrap from where I had spat it out earlier in the night so as not to choke on my own vomit. "Are you incapable of doing anything right, at all, whatsoever? You really are the most useless fuck I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Now get out of there, you've got work to do".
I slowly edged my way out of the cupboard.
I know I keep going back to how much my body ached, but you can't believe the pain I felt as I stood up that Sunday morning. I kind of got used to the aching eventually, but in those early days the all-over aches and pains you felt first thing in the morning were the worst. Worse even than the intense moments of pain that occurred while I was being physically or sexually assaulted. I suppose during the assault I was generally sexually charged myself, or at the very least I was in a time and place where I could focus on finding the mental space where you can get beyond the pain. A space every sub eventually learns to locate. But, while enough to bring you down, those morning aches aren't intense enough to deliver a sexual kick or a mental high. And anyway, there's no time to focus on finding that mental place at times like this, because there's always some tedious task or another to be done. And Justin always seemed to think of tedious tasks whenever I was aching particularly bad.
"OK, you've got twenty minutes to get this place clean. I'm going to have a shower".
I'd followed him into the living room. The room was pretty much as we'd left it the night before - the furniture was still pushed up against the walls and the kitchen table was still in middle. Only now the daylight shone in through the large balcony windows, making the whole set up look more sordid. The piss and cum stains on the table and floor, and the stale smell of piss and sex, didn't help.
Having delivered his instructions Justin, looking gorgeous as ever in just his boxers and a t-shirt, quickly left me alone in the living room, taking the scummy jockstrap with him, I noted. Next to the table was a red plastic bucket filled with soapy water, and next to that were two cloths. They, I assumed, were to be used in my cleaning task.
It was a task that wasn't going to be easy - my hands were still tied behind my back remember. And Justin hadn't provided any clues as to how he intended for me to use the bucket and cloths without my hands. But I knew, even then, I should be thanking my lucky stars that that was the problem I had to solve. He could quite easily have told me to lick up the piss and cum with my tongue, which would have been simpler for everyone, but truly horrific for me.
So, I set about working out how this could be done. Presumably I was meant to use my teeth again - which is possibly why he hadn't shoved the jockstrap back into my mouth, even though he was clearly pissed off I'd spat it out without his permission. I knelt down next to the bucket and picked up one of the cloths with my teeth, and dropped it into the water. I was pretty sure the water only had washing up liquid in it - nothing stronger that could actually harm me. Firstly there were lots of soap suds, and bleach didn't make water soapy in that way. Plus it smelt like washing up liquid. And, anyway, surely, Justin wouldn't let me swallow bleach. Despite everything he'd done to me in the last two days, I was strangely confident of that.
So I picked up the now wet cloth out of the bucket with my teeth and stood up, so I could drop it onto the table top. Then I bent over and pushed the cloth around the table with my face. It was a pretty degrading thing to do, even though there was no one here to see me do it. It was quite painful too, bending over in this way. Especially as I was trying hard to avoid rubbing my torso onto the table, because it was still covered in vomit, which would just make the table dirtier than it had been to start with. But despite everything, I did quite a good job in getting the table clean.
I'd got a mouth full of soapy water when I first picked up the cloth. It had made me retch slightly, but to be honest with you, having only consumed piss, cum, blood and shit in the last two days, the fact I was getting to consume some water, even soapy water, felt great. So much so, when I put the cloth back into the bucket to wash off some of the muck, I deliberately made sure I got another mouthful.
Of course there was no way for me to wring out the cloth after dropping it back into the bucket, which meant that as I lifted it up with my teeth soapy water fell onto my body too. But after two days without washing, and given everything I'd been through, that felt great also.
In fact, despite the tedious, tricky and somewhat degrading task I was performing, and despite the aching, which continued, I felt pretty good. Mainly because I was making good progress in my cleaning task. I pushed the cloth around the table top with my face a few times, until I'd got up the bulk of the scum, and then repeated the process with the dry cloth in order to dry it all off. Then I turned my attention to the floor around the table. This was easier. This time I could use my feet to move the cloths around, making the whole process quicker, less painful, and a whole lot less degrading. By the time Justin came back into the room I was in a really happy place. And for once he enhanced my happy mood. For a time.
"And so the cunt boy learns", he said, watching me pushing the dry cloth around the floor with my feet.
I smiled.
A lot.
"OK, let's get you washed now" he continued. This was even better news. While some of the soapy water had splattered onto me while I cleaned the table and floor, I was still pretty filthy.
Justin got a key out of his pocket and put it into the lock on the bathroom door. That was odd. I didn't have a lock on my bathroom door. Well, obviously there was a bolt on the inside, but not a key lock. Yet there was one now. I glanced to the door that opened onto the corridor that led to the bedrooms. That now had a lock on it too. I was very confused. And the confusion dulled my happiness a little.
It wasn't until later, when I was back in the kitchen cupboard again, that it occurred to me that that must have been what the stranger who had face fucked me two days ago must have been doing in the flat. That's why there'd been all that banging around. Why would Justin want locks on all the doors? That was a question that I didn't really want to know the answer to.
But as we stood at the bathroom door that Sunday morning, the newly arrived locks caused me more confusion than fear. And there wasn't time to give them any more consideration, because Justin was busy bringing an end to my happy moment in other ways.
"OK, first things first," he said, walking into the bathroom, "lick up all those pubes". I looked down to where Justin was pointing. There on the white tiled floor was all the hair Jay had cut or shaved off me the day before. Damn. This wasn't good. Still, he'd let me use a cloth for the scummy living room, and for that I should be grateful, so I suppose this wasn't too much to ask. Not that any of that mattered. Such was my submission to Justin by this stage, I was on my knees licking up my pubes before any of that occurred to me.
"OK, get up and get into the bath" he said, as I licked up the final few hairs. I did as I was told, and stood in the bath, underneath the shower, facing Justin. He picked up a bottle of shower gel. He must have bought it - it was one of those cheap supermarket own brands. I normally bought quite posh soaps and shampoos, but they were no where to be seen. He squirted some gel over my chest, and then my cock and balls, and then my head. "Turn round". I did, and he squirted some on my cum and piss covered back.
And then he turned on the shower. Cold. "Ten minutes, no more". Then he was gone.
The water felt fantastic, and some of the happiness that had drained away thanks to the mysterious locks and pube licking, started to come back. Though that's not to say this was ideal. Firstly, the water was really cold, and my hands were still tied behind my back so I couldn't alter the temperature. And anyway, even if I could, I suspected Justin wouldn't want me to. Secondly, the fact my hands were still tied up made washing very difficult. I couldn't rub the soap or water into my body or anything like that.
But, it was a powerful shower, and by changing my position so that the full force of the shower hit different parts of my body, I did get myself quite clean. And despite the set backs, the clean water felt fantastic. Plus I could now open my mouth and drink clean non-soapy water for the first time in nearly two days. After all the piss and cum I'd consumed, not to mention the blood and shit I'd licked up the night before, I cannot begin to tell you how great it felt to feel fresh water in my mouth and throat. Once again I realised how great the mundane things of life can feel when you've been deprived of them for even a relatively short time. To this day I think that subs like me are especially lucky in being able to properly appreciate that. Prior to all this I'd always found showering a chore, but now I relish any opportunity to shower in and drink fresh water - even if the water is cold and my hands are tied up.
"OK, that's enough" Justin said as he turned off the shower. I hadn't noticed he was back in the bathroom, so it was quite a shock when the water stopped. And a shock also when I scanned round the bathroom and noticed there were no towels. Justin smiled, clearly registering what was going through my mind.
"Please master, please may I have a towel".
"I've opened the balcony door," he said, "the sun's really warm this morning. Ten minutes out there and you'll be dry". And then he walked out of the bathroom again.
I was gutted. Again. Basically he wanted me to go and stand in the open air on my balcony naked, with my hands tied behind my back. The balconies in these apartments were actually quite secluded, but there was still a chance people in the apartment block across the street would see me, in all my naked tied up glory. And besides, even if they didn't, being naked in the open air in that way was just really really embarrassing.
But I knew I had no choice. And given that I was dripping wet, once out of the bath I was going to have to make my way to the balcony quickly so as not to drip on the living room floor too much. So I took a deep breath and then ran through the living room onto the balcony.
I was immediately on edge. I doubt anyone did see me that first time I dried off on the balcony, but I felt so stupid standing there, fully exposed to the world at large. And I had to stand, because someone, again Justin I assume, had moved the seats that I kept out there. I could hear distant neighbours chatting as they breakfasted on their balconies. Somehow hearing such mundane day to day affairs being conducted so close by, while I stood here naked and bound up, made the whole thing seem even more perverted.
But that was just the start of it.
Almost as soon as I walked onto the balcony I noticed the metal bucket I had used as a toilet the day before sitting there - my piss and shit still in it. Clearly Justin hadn't emptied it down the toilet the day before like I'd thought. It looked pretty disgusting, though being in the open air the smell wasn't so strong. Nevertheless, as I cautiously paced around the balcony, desperately trying to dry off quickly, I kept away from it.
Then Justin appeared at the balcony door.
"OK cocksucker, if you need to piss or shit, do it in the bucket now. I'd suggest you go, you don't know how long it will be before I let you go again". He smiled as he said that.
My already intense embarrassment increased, ten fold. Not only was I here in the open air naked with my hands tied behind my back, now he wanted me to piss and shit into a bucket, essentially in public. I desperately hoped no one was watching as I squatted over the bucket, ready to piss and shit. I was about to start when I realised I was going to fart again. I turned round and, through the balcony door, saw that Justin was sitting on the now clean kitchen table, reading a newspaper.
"Please master" I said quietly, in as loud a voice as I thought I could use without my neighbours hearing, "please may I trump trump".
"What was that cocksucker, you'll have to speak up". He'd heard of course. And he knew I knew he'd heard.
"Please master, may I trump trump?" I said, noticeably louder, and surely now loud enough for anyone on a near by balcony to hear.
"Sorry fuck face, still can't hear. Shout it at me".
I knew what he was doing, and he knew I knew. That made it more fun for him. "Please master" I shouted, "please my I trump trump?"
None of the people breakfasting near by seemed to respond to that - not in any audible way I could hear - but they must have heard me, they must have.
"Go ahead" Justin said, finally. And so I was able to fart, then piss, then shit. I wasn't actually that desperate to go, and only went because of Justin's loaded statement - 'you don't know how long it will be before I let you go again'. But not being so desperate meant I was done quite quickly. But my face still burned red. And as I continued to pace around the balcony after finishing my shit and piss, I willed for me to dry quicker, and for Justin to call me back inside sooner.
Justin was right about something though - the sun was warm this morning and I did soon dry. I can only have been out there ten minutes max, including toilet time. But it felt much much longer.
"OK, we're going to go out for lunch" Justin informed me. After calling me back into the living room he'd slid the balcony door shut, got his cock out, and then pissed in my mouth one more time. To be honest after the trauma of standing on the balcony naked I was more than glad to take any load of his piss if it meant I got to be inside. Though I still really didn't like the piss drinking.
I was still on my knees when he started talking. "Obviously you're going to need to get dressed for that" he continued, "and I'll have to untie you - I can hardly have you walking round in public with your hands tied behind your back. Well, not today anyway", he smiled again, letting that implication sink in. "Which brings us back to that old problem. Your inability to stop playing with yourself, you filthy fuck. So, here's what we're going to do. Firstly, I've got you one of these".
He had walked over to his bag and came back with a small transparent plastic device. It was a plastic ring and attached to it was a hollow plastic tube like thing, shaped like a small cock.
"This is the CB3000 - the best two hundred bucks you ever spent. Stops you playing with what belongs to me".
He told me to stand up and slotted the plastic chastity device into place, and then took a padlock out of his pocket and locked it so the CB3000 was secured. I'd never come across anything like this before, and for about a minute I didn't get what it was for. Obviously I'd heard of chastity belts, but to be honest I'd always associated them as something from the past, and mainly something used on girls. I never imagined anything like this. As soon as it was locked in place it was obvious I wasn't going to be able to touch my own dick and, perhaps more importantly, if I started to feel horny there was no way I could get a full erection, because my dick would fill the little plastic tube even before it was semi-hard. And there was nothing I could do about any of this until Justin decided to unlock that padlock.
"Now, don't think that because your dick's encased in plastic, suddenly it's OK to go touching it. If you touch any part of your cock or balls at any time I really will beat you until you're in the emergency room. Do you understand?"
"Yes master".
"Now what do you say?"
"Thank you master".
"Thanks for what?"
"Thank you for my wonderful CB3000". I paused. He paused. Clearly he wanted more. "And thank you for warning me about what will happen if I touch my dick".
"Whose dick?"
"Your dick master".
"Good boy. Now, let's get you dressed. I've picked some clothes out but they need a little adaptation". I was too busy getting used to this weird contraption locked on to my cock to fully concentrate on what Justin was saying. I desperately wanted to touch it. I don't know why, possibly because I'd just been told I couldn't. Resisting the temptation to disobey my master on this one took all my will power.
When I looked up I could see Justin getting to work with a pair of scissors on one of my best pair of jeans and one of my most expensive t-shirts. He cut the jeans on each leg just under the groin, and cut the arms and bottom three inches off the t-shirt. He put the newly created denim shorts on the floor and told me to step into them. I did as I was told, and he pulled them up and did up the button fly. The CB3000 meant my cock, while completely flaccid, still bulged more than normal. But once the fly was done up you wouldn't really notice it. And at least this way my dick would never be long enough to show. These shorts had been cut so short that, without any underwear, if I got even a semi-hard-on there would be a real danger of my dick falling out. But with the CB3000 that wouldn't happen.
As I considered all this Justin walked round to my back and untied my wrists. All thoughts of my newly encased cock suddenly slipped away such was the relief I felt as my hands became free for the first time in nearly two days. It had been a little bit painful not being able to move my hands, but it was more of a mental relief. Losing use of you hands make you feel pretty powerless. While I didn't now really have any more power than before - it wasn't like I was going to challenge Justin's authority now my hands were loose - it still felt very empowering to no longer be tied up.
"Put on your t-shirt and these sandals, then we're ready to go". Justin threw the tee and shoes over at me, and then took out his cell-phone to call up a cab. I put on the clothes as instructed. Once again having the use of my hands felt great, even though I was still following Justin's orders. In fact I felt pretty great in general again. Even though I knew full well that in this cut back t-shirt, ridiculously short shorts and summery sandals I must have looked really really slutty. And I knew I was going to have to wear these clothes out in public. But I knew better than to question Justin on this one. And in fact, the thought of looking so slutty in public excited me a little. Certainly my cock was now filling its plastic casing.
Justin ended his call and put his phone back into his pocket. I looked at him properly for the first time since coming back in from the balcony. He was wearing a pair of my smartest trousers and one of my favourite shirts. An expensive one. He looked great. So much better than I could ever hope to look in those clothes. The fact he'd chosen to wear some of my clothes made me really happy. Even though I knew the flash smart clothes Justin wore would make me look even more trampy and slutty in my cut up shorts and t-shirt.
And then we left the flat. For the first time since my new life began we were properly back in the real world. Friday morning seemed at life time ago, and leaving the flat made me slightly nervous. Justin didn't help of course. "After you cocksucker" he said in a loud voice when the elevator door slid open. And then inside the elevator he added, "Oh, I almost forgot, put this in your mouth will you?" It was the jock. The infamous jock. The cum, piss and now vomit covered jock strap. I took it off him, opened in mouth and pushed it in there. The taste was even worse than ever, and made a bigger impact because my mouth had been recently refreshed. And somehow being made to push it in myself, rather than having Justin push it in there, was much more degrading.
Still, it wasn't that big so I don't think anyone we passed would have noticed my mouth was stuffed. And while the security guard in my apartment block did give me a very funny look when he saw how I was dressed as I passed his desk, no one on the street noticeably reacted to the way I looked, and apart from calling me a "cocksucker" twice in the cab, Justin didn't really do anything else to draw attention to me, or my new status. And somehow I was getting a real kick out of this. My slutty attire, the fact my cock was encased in plastic, and that I had a cummy, pissy, vomit stained jock strap in my mouth, all here in the open, was really quite exciting. Nerve racking. But exciting.
Justin, of course, soon increased both the excitement and the nervousness of the experience. "OK, jock mouth", he said, albeit quietly, as we walked into the restaurant he had chosen for our lunch. "I want you to go into the men's room and take off your shorts. Then take the jock out of your mouth and put it on. Then put your shorts back on and join me at that table over there". He pointed at a booth at the far corner of the restaurant and started to walk off towards it. But he stopped after a couple of steps, moved back towards me and whispered: "Oh, and cum breath, don't use a cubicle. Do it next to the urinals".
My heart was racing again. My excitement increased, but so did my nervousness.
I walked into the men's toilets. There was a guy pissing at the urinals. There was no way I was going to take my shorts off in front of him. Especially with my locked up dick. So I went to the sinks and pretended I needed to wash my hands. The guy took a minute or so to finish pissing, and then joined me at the sinks to wash his hands. I kept on washing throughout. The guy gave me a funny look as he exited - possibly because of the way I was dressed, possibly because I'd spent so long washing my hands. Probably both.
Once he'd gone I rushed over to the urinals, and took off my sandals and shorts. The cut down t-shirt I was wearing didn't even reach my waist, so my shaved caged cock was very much on show once I'd removed the shorts. I quickly took the jock strap out of my mouth, stretched it so I could wear it, and then put it on. With all the dried bodily fluids on there it had a really rough texture that scratched my skin. Though, given the choice, I'd rather wear this thing than have it in my mouth.
I'd just about put the jock on when another guy walked into the room. I looked up at him. How bad did this look? I was wearing a ripped t-shirt and the most gross looking jock strap you'd ever seen. And my pubes had quite clearly been shaved off. And if I'd turned round he'd have seen my still bruised ass. I quickly put my shorts and sandals back on and then rushed out of the toilets. I didn't say anything. And nor did the guy initially, though I as opened the bathroom door I heard him say, to himself, "fucking freak". I felt gutted that a stranger had seen me in that situation, but at the same time having been caught turned me on even more. My dick was pushed hard against the inside of the CB3000. I was starting to see how constraining these devices were, and already appreciated how frustrating that was going to be.
"You took your time" Justin said, as I joined him at the booth he'd chosen. I'd rushed back to the table, though not fast enough so not to notice at least three people turn and stare at me. Again, a gutting yet exciting experience.
"I'm sorry master", I said quietly. Justin didn't seem to mind I was talking quietly this time.
"Did you do what I said straight away, or did you wait for something?"
"There was a guy in there" I explained, "so I waited for him to finish".
"Did I say to wait until the room was empty?" he said. He was talking very calmly, not angry at all, but he used a tone that clearly showed he wasn't happy.
"No master, but I thought, because I couldn't use a cubical, well..."
"When I tell you to do something, you do it straight away, not when you think the time is right". He paused. The buzz I'd felt about this whole experience vanished in a second. Replaced, again, by that intense feeling of guilt. "But we won't let that ruin our lunch, I'll punish you later". He smiled. I didn't like the sound of that, but his smile help alleviate my guilt a little.
"OK, this is how it works. Every Sunday lunchtime and Wednesday evening we'll eat out together. While we're eating the rules are different. You're allowed to talk whenever you want, you don't need my permission to eat or drink, and I won't make you do or say anything humiliating. That doesn't mean you can get all cranky, or start whining about stuff you've had to do, or anything like that. And I'll decide what you eat. But within reason you can consider these times freetime".
Suddenly I felt great again. The degradation had been exciting to a certain extent, and I wouldn't have been entirely unhappy if it had continued. But the chance to connect with Justin in a wholly different way, even if only for a couple of hours here and there, was, and I don't exaggerate when I say this, like a dream come true.
"Hey Justin, how you doing?" I had been so excited I hadn't noticed the waiter arrive at our table. It surprised me a little the staff here knew Justin. I don't know why, but we'd never gone to anywhere where Justin knew the staff in our previous meetings, so I guess I wasn't expecting that now.
"See you've got a new...", the waiter paused, then smiled, and then said "friend" in a knowing voice. I blushed. Clearly this guy new about Justin's 'friends'. Damn, Justin had stuck to the commitment he'd made thirty seconds ago about doing nothing to humiliate me, and yet I was being humiliated anyway. Sort of. Still, Justin made up for it tenfold.
"Sure do," he replied, "and he's a bit of a looker, don't you think?"
I blushed again, but in a happy way. As I'd soon discover, over these twice weekly meals Justin would always return to the charmer I had first met, the Justin I had known prior to our new life together. He even ordered me a medium rare steak and fries, which I'd told him was one of my favourites. And in some ways the waiter being in on our secret made things less humiliating. For example, he knew to ask Justin what I wanted to eat, rather than looking to me myself - "and for the boy?" he enquired - which meant there was no awkwardness when I didn't order for myself.
And the next two hours were wonderful. They would have been anyway, Justin was such entertaining company, but in the context of everything I'd been through in the last two days, to be in such a normal enjoyable situation like this felt even better. In the back of my mind I knew that this wouldn't last long, and that whatever Justin had planned for me this evening would probably seem even worse when compared with lunch, but then again the thought that we'd be doing this again in three days time could help get me through anything.
I remembered what Justin had said though - I didn't whine about anything, or do or say anything I thought might upset my master. That's not to say I didn't relax, I did, but I made sure I let Justin lead the conversation to avoid confrontation. Which meant other aspects of my new life, and our relationship, and everything that had happened since Friday never came up. Until, that is, the end of the meal, as we drank our coffees.
"So," he said, "how are you finding everything. Is it what you expected?"
I didn't respond immediately. I wasn't sure how to. "Go on," he said, "Sunday lunch rules apply. Tell me what you really think. Are you enjoying it?"
"Yes and no" I replied diplomatically.
"Which bits are you enjoying? Is there anything you don't like?"
This was a really difficult question. Most things I didn't like. But then I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy them too. In fact I really enjoyed a lot of the stuff he'd done to me - even though I didn't really like it. Which probably doesn't make sense. Unless you're a sub. Then it'd make sense.
"Some stuff takes a while to get used to I guess", I said, diplomatically, "but I've enjoyed pretty much everything, in a way, even if I didn't like it".
"But presumably there's something you really don't like ... or enjoy ... is there anything you really hated?"
Still a difficult question. As I said, most things I both disliked and enjoyed at the same time. In different ways. So I wasn't sure what to say. Except, that there was one set of things I really didn't like, and which, at that stage, I hadn't found a way to enjoy either. The toilet things. Pissing and shitting in front of his friends. Drinking his, my and their piss. And licking my shit off his dick after he'd fucked me.
"Well," I said, approaching the topic carefully. "The toilet stuff. I didn't like that. Going to the toilet in front of everyone, or on the balcony. And licking the poo off your dick. And drinking all that piss".
He paused. Not for long, but for long enough to make me feel I'd said the wrong thing.
"Hmm," he said finally, "well, I can understand that. Who wants to piss and shit in front of others, or to eat or drink the stuff? Eurgh, that's horrible. I know I wouldn't. I'd rather die".
His words filled me with relief, and even hope. I was relieved that he hadn't responded badly to my reply. And hoped, foolishly of course, that his response might mean he'd change the rules on the toilet stuff. And for a minute he seemed to be reaffirming that hope.
"The shit. Well, who'd want to have to lick shit? But don't worry, from tomorrow you're going to be giving yourself a daily enema, so the chances of you having to lick a shitty dick will be much reduced". This was great news. I only had a vague knowledge of what an enema was, but if it meant not licking shit, then that sounded good to me. I smiled at this news, and the hope inside me rose a little. Though, as I said, it was foolish hope.
"Of course, some subs eat shit on a regular basis", he continued, "and if that's what you're master wants, that's what you do". I felt myself falling from my overly hopeful high. "I've never done that to one of my subs", he revealed, causing a new, brief flash of hope to enter my mind, until he added, "but don't assume that means I never will. It's not like it'd kill you. Well, it might if you ate too much of your own shit I suppose - but don't assume you won't be eating other people's one day. You've got to get yourself used to the possibility of that. Anyway, I have a feeling you'd like it really. Fucked up cunts like you often do".
The happiness of the meal and the hope of Justin's initial words were disappearing fast.
"As for pissing and shitting in public - that's something you're definitely going to have to get used to. You belong to me now, which means you're not allowed to keep anything from me. Why would I make an exception for pissing and shitting? Why would I let you keep that from me? Which means you'll always piss and shit in front of me, and if I'm among friends, you'll do it in front of them too. OK?"
"Yes master".
"And the piss drinking. Well, piss drinking is one of your jobs. One of you most important jobs. If you don't drink my piss then you're not doing your job properly. You wouldn't want that would you?"
I shook my head.
"Here's what I think we'll do. If you don't like the piss drinking, that means you're not properly used to it yet, you need more practice so that it becomes something so natural you don't dislike it. To be honest, I've not been giving you all my piss. I've been pissing in the toilet too. But from now on I pledge to give you every single drop. I won't piss anywhere else except in your mouth. If for any reason I have to piss when you're not around, I'll piss in a bottle and you can drink it later. I'll have a word with the guys. See if any of them are up for doing the same thing. I'm pretty sure Jay will be".
My heart was now sinking to new depths.
"And as for yourself, I was going to let you start pissing into the toilet tomorrow, but clearly it would be better if you kept pissing on the floor and licking it up. That way you'll be drinking so much of the stuff you're sure to develop a taste for it soon".
I'd known the new high I'd experienced over lunch would come to a quick end but I'd not expected it to end quite so abruptly.
"And let's start now shall we. Finish your coffee, and then get on your knees and drink my piss".
And so, for the first time, I drank my master's piss in public. This was more horrible than ever. Justin probably would have made me do this anyway, but I couldn't help thinking it was me bringing up the piss drinking that had given him the idea. I really wished I'd not complained about it. Fortunately no one could see me doing my duty, because I was hidden by the table cloth. Though there's the chance the waiter guy knew what was happening. As I knelt under the table, with my master's cock in my mouth, swallowing his piss, the waiter came to the table to settle the bill. Justin was signing the credit card receipt while I downed his piss. The waiter guy didn't say anything, but I'm pretty sure he knew where I was.
"You need a piss too?" Justin said, as I returned above the table.
"Yes master" I said. It was the truth. But I immediately regretted saying it, bearing in mind what he'd just said about me continuing to piss on the floor and lick it up. But surely he couldn't make me do that here? Could he?
"Well, we can't exactly let you piss on the floor here, can we?" he said, laughing. I was glad he thought so too. "OK, piss boy, here's what you're going to do. Go back into the men's room. Take off your shorts and the jock. Then piss into the jock over one of the urinals. When you're done, put the jock back in your mouth. That way you'll get to slowly drink your piss as we travel home. Once the jock is in your mouth you can put your shorts back on. Oh, and piss boy, don't go waiting around just because there's someone already in there this time, OK?"
Fuck, this was the worse thing so far. But I knew not to argue. I said "yes master" and then, albeit reluctantly, made my way to the men's room. I willed with all my might that the bathroom would be empty. But, it wasn't. There was another guy pissing at the urinal nearest the door. I toyed with waiting, despite what Justin had said. I could wait and then lie - say it had just taken longer than expected. Except I knew I could never lie to Justin. So, I walked over to the urinal furthest from the guy, took a deep breath, and then took off my shorts. He didn't seem to notice straight away, but as I took off the jock he saw me.
"What the fuck?"
I didn't know what to say. Here I was, in the men's room of this restaurant, totally naked from the waist down, except for a plastic cage around my cock. And now I was about to piss over the jockstrap I'd just take off.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the guy asked, putting his own dick away and stepping towards me.
"I am obeying my master," I said. That made me feel good. Strangely I didn't feel anywhere near as humiliated or degraded as when the other guy had caught me in here earlier. And that had been much more innocent by comparison. I stepped closer to the urinal, held the jock strap out with one hand, grasped my encased dick with the other, pointing it in the right direction, and then I started to piss.
"That is fucking gross" the guy said. He pushed me, sending a spray of piss over the floor and my discarded shorts. But I ignored him and carried on pissing onto the jock. "You're a fucking dirty faggot" the guy continued, giving me another push. I continued to ignore him, still feeling in control here, despite everything. I finished pissing and put the piss drenched jock into my mouth. "Eurgh, that is too much, you fucking perverted freak". This time he pushed me hard, forcing me away from the urinal and towards the bathroom wall. Then he punched me in the gut twice and, after I'd slumped to the floor, kicked my exposed dick and balls. Then he stormed out of the bathroom. I sat there for a second or two. My balls ached all over again. I was winded real bad. That horrid taste of piss filled my mouth again. And I was still naked from the waist down, my plastic coated dick on display. And yet I felt good. Real good.
Justin smiled at me as I re-entered the restaurant. He was standing by the bathroom door and had no doubt seen my disgruntled attacker storm out of there a minute earlier. Well, at least he knew I hadn't waited for the room to be empty this time. The waiter pinched my ass as we left the place, telling Justin "be nice to him now". Some hope. As I climbed into the cab that was already waited for us Justin whispered in my ear "let's get home shall we? Your next punishment is well overdue. And this time I won't be paddling your ass, I think it's about time I got my paddle to work on your balls".