Master Paulus

Master Paulus - Part 10 Freedom... Redefined.

By: Christian Xavier Gartrip

(christianxgartrip@gmail.com)

Old Joe grabbed the leash and pulled me along behind him. I followed him out of the room, down the hall, down the back stairs, into the expansive kitchen, and finally out onto the back porch. I looked around for a pool but didn't see one. I did smell chlorine though, and a few seconds later I noticed a sizable spa off to my left. It was already churning away and the steam was pouring off of it as it clashed with the morning chill. And speaking of chill... there I was, completely naked and standing next to a tree not far from the house. My cock was shrinking by the second, and my balls had already made their way into my abdomen in search of warmth. It must have been just barely above freezing and there was a slight breeze in the air. Damn. Winter had arrived, and there I was with no clothes.

"Git down on yo'r knees. NOW!" This was the first time I'd heard Joe actually scream an order. He clearly knew what he was doing. Yes, he was old, but he still scared me. Once on my knees, Joe pulled my chain until I was pressed against the tree. He wrapped the leash around its base and then secured it somehow with a small piece of wire he had in his pocket. Then he simply walked away. A few seconds later I heard the back door slam shut.

The cold air was no longer refreshing. I was freezing. I curled up as tightly as I could and waited... and waited. Master made an appearance about twenty minutes later. He untied my leash and pulled me to my feet. He was wearing black flannel pajama bottoms, a red wife-beater, and a black knit skullcap. The red tank clung to his bloated torso like a silk stocking on a fat thigh.

Master Cole pushed me against the tree and cuffed my wrists together on the other side of it. I pressed my torso and thighs against the rough bark in search of warmth, but the tree was cool to the touch, and I was growing more miserable by the second.

Master had a belt with him, a black one as I recall, and he didn't waste much time with formalities. A few seconds after tying me to the tree, he went to work on my butt and thighs with his belt. Maybe it was the cold, or maybe he was holding back, or maybe I was just used to intense beatings, but the pain seemed less severe than what I remembered from our first meeting at Rev's. He gave me quite a few wallops that morning, at least fifteen, and my thighs ached like hell later that day, but on that particular morning, I could have taken another thirty and not really blinked.

When he finished delivering the first ten, he approached and reached between my legs and grabbed my cock. His hand was covered in a leather glove, and it was warm from his body heat. He rubbed my shrunken little iced pecker for a few minutes until it was erect. He laughed at me, then backed away and gave my thighs five or six good lashings before tossing the belt over his shoulder and walking away.

I stayed tied to that damn tree for another fifteen minutes, and then old Joe finally came out and released me. He took me back inside and tossed a blanket on me and had me sit in the corner of the kitchen while he piddled in the pantry. Master Cole spent the rest of the morning in the hot tub, occasionally calling out to Joe for orange juice or some fruit (he eats a lot of fruit).

There was a vent on the floor near by, so I warmed up quickly, and somehow my feet had avoided frostbite. Joe paid me no attention at all. It was as if I were a family pet that was just lying around waiting to be walked or fed or rubbed. I guess that's not an inaccurate way of looking at it actually. At times, it did feel that way.

At some point later that morning, Master Cole demanded a towel and his lunch. I was ordered to deliver both. Warm, but still naked, I walked to the back deck and greeted a wet and naked Master as he climbed from his tub. He huffed at me as he took his towel and pushed his face into it. Then he sat on the edge of the tub and spread his legs.

"Suck on Master's cock for a little while, but keep it light. I'm savin' it for your ass, which I'll be fuckin' after I'm done with my lunch."

I'd learned by now that a simple "yes sir" wasn't necessary or expected, so I simply dropped down and opened my mouth and let his chlorine soaked meat make its way into my throat. Cole enjoys slow and deep blowjobs, meaning that he drives it deep and then takes it out slowly. He hates to cum too soon and would prefer never to cum at all if he could somehow manage it. While my lips caressed his pubic hair and the tip of cock made itself comfortable pressed against my tonsils, Master rubbed my hair and occasionally reached forward to twist one of my nipples, something I've never really cared for.

"Joe, I thought I told you to send me my lunch with the boy," Master bellowed.

"It ain't ready yet... I'll bring it."

Cole reached down and grabbed my chin, "go get it, and be quick."

I jumped up and shuffled into the kitchen, pleased to receive another dose of heat, and snatched the tray from Joe's decrepit hands and returned it to Master. Sitting on the tray was an extra large steak sandwich, another huge bowl of fruit, and a tall bottle of beer, which I thought odd.

Master placed the bowl of fruit on the deck floor between his two ugly feet and motioned that the bowl was for me. Without hesitation, I knew what was expected, so I put my wrists behind my back and my face into the bowl. Woof, Woof.

Before I could finish my "brunch," Master had determined that I'd had more than enough, so he kicked the partially consumed fruit with his foot off of the deck and into the yard. "Back to the cock, boy. Back to the cock."

Cole's cock was still mostly engorged, but it was hanging low and it looked absolutely amazing. And yes, I really did want nothing more than to chew on that old black pipe for as long as he'd allow it. It didn't take me long to get it back to a state of full erection, and no sooner than I did, Master stood up, grabbed a large clump of hair and pushed me onto the side of the tub.

"Time to fuck," he mumbled, but he meant it. "Now raise up those hips and spread your damn legs. I ain't got all day." Master darted into the kitchen and came back with a jar of olive oil and coated my entire backside, cheeks, hole, everything. He pushed a greasy thumb into my ass and twisted it as he stretched my sphincter. Master said nothing (he rarely does), but a few seconds later he leaned in and pushed his long black shaft deep into me. It hurt like hell, and he absolutely refused to take it slow and let me adjust, so I just bit into the side of the hot tub and tried not to scream, which I knew was what he was hoping to hear me do.

"Come on bitch, tighten up, Daddy's gonna make this a quick one." And it was. I squeezed my rim as hard as I could and tried gripping Master's rod, but it's hard to lock down when a piston is going off in your ass.

I looked over to my left and saw old Joe staring out the window at this weird scene as he washed the lunch dishes. He seemed amused, but not really turned on. Hell, he was at least 70, if not older, so it had probably been a while since he'd blown a load or fucked a nice piece of ass. I didn't smile at him, but I didn't look away either. I was embarrassed by what he was seeing, but I liked the feeling, so I locked eyes with the old coot and felt my face turn bright red. I liked it.

Master Cole gave my ass one hell of a deep pounding. Master's cock operates on only one speed: brutal. He rammed that dark pipe into my asshole so fast that if I'd tried to count the strokes, I would not have been able to. Through it all he laughs and breathes heavily while fresh sweat pours from his face onto my back. Then suddenly, he stops. Of course, when he does, he doesn't just pull out and blow fresh jizz all over me like most guys. No, Master stops before he peaks just to prolong things even longer.

With his long cock locked to the inside of my bowels, Cole drops down on my back and whispers in my ear... "Be calm, be still. I got something for you."

We stood there quietly for almost a full minute, and then I suddenly felt a strong pressure building up inside my gut. Master had relaxed his boner just enough so that he could release some fresh piss, and from the feel of things, it was quite a hefty load. Now for those of you who know me and know my story, you'll understand what kind of effect this had on me.

To begin with, I've no doubt that ol' Joe was getting one heck of a belly laugh over the sight of me getting a piss enema straight from the cock while bent over a hot tub in 35 degree weather. I liked that, actually. I liked knowing that it grossed him out and turned him on simultaneously.

More importantly, this single act of masterful dominance was so psychologically challenging, that I didn't know whether to scream for more or cry for help. I loved the humiliating effect of being used as another man's urinal, but typically this took the form of someone pissing in my mouth or just soaking my backside after a good fucking. Here, for the first time, another man had managed to impale me with his own softened cock and then fill my entire gut with liquid waste, straight from the hose... hot, fresh, and vile.

As Master continued to empty himself into my ever expanding abdomen, my cock grew tighter and tighter and was now uncomfortably pressed against the rough wooden side of the tub. In theory, this was what I wanted, but in practice, well, that was something different. I felt like I was going to explode. I could already feel the warmth of the excess piss spraying out of my ass like water from a leaky hose. I needed to crap this stuff out... and quick. But my cock, it just kept getting harder, and now I was starting to panic.

"Oh, yeah bitch... squirm for pappy... squirm, you little cunt. Squirm." Master knew exactly what I liked and he knew exactly what I hated, and he was proving to be masterful at delivering both every time we were together. "Hold that shit in boy. Don't you bust a gut on my deck. You do and you'll be looking at supper. And I ain't kiddin'."

He wasn't, and I knew it, so I closed my eyes and focused on the rock that my cock had become. I will say one thing for Cole: he certainly didn't have a problem with me showing off a bit of wood between my legs. Unlike Paulus, Cole took it as a compliment. It didn't take him long to notice, so he reached around and gripped it as tight as he could. His hand was still oily, and the piss was still dripping out of his cock (and my ass), so the mixture of intense pleasure and gut-busting pain had pushed me almost to the brink.

Then I felt something different. It was Cole's cock... empty of piss and filling up with blood. He was hard again, and he really wanted to fuck. No, please God, not now! At that point I tried to force him out of me, but he just grabbed both of my wrists and locked them down into the small of my back and started to drive his cock again... in, out... in out. This time more slowly, but with a lot of depth and with an odd sense of rhythm, like he was dancing.

Cole held my wrists tightly with one hand and my cock with the other. I was hard as a stone, but in more pain that I can describe. Had it not been for the heavy dose of chlorine filling the air, then God only knows what that deck might have smelled like because a now steady stream of shit-stained piss was leaking from my ass every time Master pumped his cock.

"You gonna cum for pappy, bitch? Huh? You gonna pump out a nice fat load of spunk for pappy? Yeah, come on bitch, take it like a man and let me see some jizz. Take it bitch, take it." Cole was whispering into my ears, but with a fierce sense of urgency in his tone. He really wanted me to feel this unusually complicated mix of pleasure and pain. I think it's what he most enjoyed about having me.

Master drove his cock into my gut 10 or 12 more times then with all the power he had he pumped my ass one last time and shot a large load as he let out one hell of a grunt before collapsing completely onto my back. He left his cock inside and I could feel it shrink again, but as it did, more of his piss made its way down my leg and onto the deck. He continued to stroke my cock, never missing a beat, until I fired my own load onto the side of the hot tub.

Covered in sweat, but freezing, I felt Master stand up and back away from his messy slave. As he did, I found it now impossible to hold back anything left in my rectum, so a healthy flow of bile poured out onto the deck and splashed onto the tops of my bare feet. Master Cole laughed and called for Joe to bring out a bucket of soap and water. The contents of my gut were still gushing down my legs when Joe arrived. He tossed the full bucket of cold soapy water onto my ass and then simply walked away, leaving the bucket behind.

"Now get over there to that hose and wash off this deck until it's clean enough to eat off of. You're damn lucky I don't make you lick it up. You've got ten minutes and then Joe's gonna give you a nice bath. God knows you sure do need it. I'll see you later."

Master Cole snatched up a towel, wrapped it around his waist and disappeared. I assume he hit the showers, but I didn't see him again until just before dinner, which was perfectly fine with me. I was exhausted, still shaking from the experience of having to be fucked with a gut full of piss, and I really needed the break. Fortunately, the bucket was of good size, so it didn't take long to wash away the filth. Within minutes I was standing in the bathroom as Joe drew a bath for me. He actually left me in there for almost half and hour while he disappeared down the hall. It was the most peaceful moment of my stay at Cole's country house.

After my bath, Joe had me crawl down the hall to what would be my permanent quarters, a large abandoned bedroom, completely empty but for an old-fashioned round mattress that floated in the middle of the room. The mattress was covered in blankets, sheets, and a random assortment of pillows (like one would expect to find in a harem) and it had no headboard. The walls were painted a dark eggplant, the floor was hardwood, and the window was boarded up and painted to match the walls. Overhead was a large wrought iron chandelier, and one entire wall was covered in mirrors. There was no chest of drawers, no lamps, no chairs, nothing... just that big round bed.

"This is yo'r room. Under the bed is a rubber tub. You can piss and shit in that if you need to. Otherwise, you'll stay in here until you're wanted. Don't ask for anything, because you won't git it. And I'd better not ever hear one word from you neither. I've been known to take a belt to a piece of shit like you befo' and I'll do it again if'n I have to. Now git in there and keep quiet. Your Master is sleeping."

Old Joe pulled the door shut and applied a padlock to it from the outside. Clearly, I was going nowhere, so I wrapped myself in sheets, curled up on the mattress and fell asleep.

When I woke up, I sensed that it was late in the day. I had a massive hard on from a desperate need to piss, so I pulled out the "tub" and almost filled it full before shoving it back under the bed. Something told me that I'd be the one to have to empty and clean such things, so I was neat and careful. I was also hungry, which is why I felt that it had to be dinnertime. Not long afterwards, Joe opened the door (after much fumbling with the lock) and placed a new dog collar around my neck, complete with silver chain. Slowly, we made our way down the hall.

As we approached Master's suite, I could hear something sexual... like maybe he was jerking off or something. I assumed I was heading into his room for another round of sex, but I was mistaken. As we came to his door (which was open) I looked in and found a most unusual sight: Master Cole having his way with not one, but two young mixed race slave boys. It was certainly something to see.

As I recall, one young man was flat on his back in the middle of the floor on Master's large oriental rug. His ankles were over his head and cuffed to his wrists and he had a ball gag in his mouth. Master Cole was between his legs giving his ass a nice slow pounding. Standing on his knees above the other slave's head was a second young man (both looked about 20). He was completely naked as well, but his wrists were cuffed behind his neck and the cuffs were connected to a collar, which made him immobile. His cock, long and very slender, was mostly erect and dangling just over the other boy's forehead. Master was paying him no attention, and was focused exclusively on watching his own cock going in and out of the other slave's ass. If he saw us pass, he never acknowledged it, but the other slave, the one on his knees, looked in my direction, and our eyes locked for just a second. He didn't smile, but he did nod his head as if to say hello, which I found odd. They seemed to be having a pretty good time, and I was jealous.

Old Joe walked me to the dining room and positioned me under the long dining table. On all fours with my head and chin placed on the seat of the Master's chair. I waited like that for quite a while, and then Master Cole entered the dining room in search of his dinner.

Cole looked at me before gently pulling out the chair. He was wearing only a robe. When he sat down he pulled the chair forward, unbelted his robe and let his cock flop down between his legs.

"Clean up my cock, boy while I eat. Do a good job and I might go easy on you tomorrow morning. Fuck it up, and I'll leave you chained up outside all night... and it's damn cold out there, as you well know."

Before I ever opened my mouth I could smell the boy's ass emanating from Cole's groin. I let Cole's long soft cock find its place on my tongue. The taste of Cole's semi-dry cum mixed with a healthy smattering of the boy's shit made its way down my throat as I tried not to gag. I tasted no lubricant of any kind, so clearly the kid was now taking that thing completely dry, which also made me shudder a bit as I thought about it. So there I was, I thought, sitting under a table somewhere in the sticks of South Carolina eating a dinner of some stranger's shit and Cole's dried cum. Disgusting.

Between the first and second course, Cole saw fit to drop a fresh load of piss into my throat, completely unannounced. I swallowed it, and was actually grateful to have it. It kind of cleansed my palette, so to speak. Anyway, I sucked on Cole's cock all the way through dessert, and my mouth was certainly cramped when he finally finished and retired to his bedroom. He never got hard, but he did place a large bowl of warm soggy green beans and carrots on the floor as he left, and ordered me to "eat up" because it was time for bed.

Now at this point, I could certainly go on and on about my three and half months in the care of Master Cole.... But I won't. Why? Because it was pretty much the same thing, day in and day out, and I really do try not the think about that much anymore. I got a hard and heavy whipping every morning before Cole made his way to his office. In the evenings I usually found myself getting fucked somewhere in the house or back lawn, and Joe was always there standing by to clean me up afterwards. I never met the other two slave boys who lived there with us. I don't know where they slept, how long they'd been there, or even their names, but I do know that they rarely douched and they always took it dry (and we'll leave it at that). We quite simply never interacted. I can also tell you that they were brothers. I know this because I did see them a few times, and they were almost identical. They weren't twins, but they clearly had the same set of parents. I don't know where they are today.

Things came to an abrupt end at Cole's. One day, I looked up from my bed (I'd been locked down for almost 3 days) and there stood Paulus and Rev. Yep, those two again. I wanted to shoot them... or hug them. I'm not sure which. Anyway, they had me dress in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and walked me to a white van. They placed me in the back, chained me to the floor, and then drove off. We stopped at a rest area about half an hour later and Rev climbed in the back to have a talk with me.

"Cole's dead. He had a heart attack while driving home from work and drove his car into a tree. You're tenure as a slave is over. I'm sorry it didn't work out, but I don't think anyone else is gonna want you... you being like 40 and shit, so we're gonna release you back into the world and you can do what you want from here on. That okay with you?"

"What? You're just going to turn me loose? Nowhere to go, no job, no car, nothing. I'm just going to be some homeless vagrant?" I wasn't speaking to Rev as a slave now. I was practically yelling at him, and he let me know it wasn't appropriate by slapping me (hard) across the face.

"Look, you ungrateful little piece of shit. I'm the only friend you got in the whole world right now, so you'd better listen up and mind yourself. From what I can see, your ass is still chained up and in my possession, so you'd best be quiet and do as I say. If it was up to Paulus, you'd be shaking your naked butt out in the cold on some highway right about now, so you'd best be thankful that I felt bad enough to drive down here and pick you up. We sold most of your shit but I made some arrangements yesterday, so you'll be taken care of until you get back on your feet. It ain't much, but it's all you're gonna get, so get used to it." Rev thought about it and decided I might be too much of a hot head at that point, so he dug a ball gag out of his bag and secured me so that I wouldn't make any more noise. Paulus came back to the van and sat in the front seat without saying a word to me while Rev spent about 20 minutes in the bathroom. I assumed he was taking a shit, but for all I know he was getting a blowjob or maybe trying to sell me to some asshole in the parking lot.

Several hours later (after having pissed myself twice) we arrived at an old apartment complex in a small central North Carolina hole-in-the-wall town, just outside of Greensboro. It wasn't very nice (the apartment complex), and it reminded me of the kind of place that recovering drug addicts and ex-cons live. They freed me from my chains for the last time and walked me into a second floor apartment on the backside of the third building on the left. I recognized a few of my old belonging but most of what I saw looked as if it had been picked up at a thrift shop. Rev pushed me onto the old plaid couch and stood over me.

"We paid up the rent for 6 months. What we didn't sell we brought over here. Everything else came out of storage, so feel free to keep it. There's clothes in the closet that I think will fit, and I put some food in the fridge. I sold your car, but I still have an old beat-up truck that's sitting out front. It's the grey one. You can have it, I'll mail you the title later." He tossed a ring of keys onto the tacky glass coffee table.

"Over there in the kitchen there's a drawer. In that drawer is an envelope with some cash in it. It's about 8000 dollars, and that's all you're gittin'. The utilities are in my name and we'll pay 'em til you start working then you can pay 'em after that. Here's the phone number of an old gal named Esther. She owns one of the motels near the truck stop out on I-85. She owes me a favor and she'll hire you if you go by there. Don't know any more than that, but it's a job. You can take it if you want or you can find your own. It's up to you. We're leaving now, so you make yourself at home. I suggest you get some rest and think about how you ended up here in the first place. You're a grown man playing kids games with the big boys and you got your ass burned pretty badly. Serves you right. To be so smart, you sure are one dumb ass white boy, and that's all I'll say. You are sure enough one dumb ass totally fucked up white boy."

And then he left. Paulus never even got out of the van, which really surprised me. Guilt, maybe? I don't know, but I can tell you that a few months later, while feeling sorry for myself and sitting in a booth in a bookstore in downtown Greensboro early on a Tuesday morning, I saw a hefty black cock slip itself through a glory hole. I sucked it dry and swallowed every drop of cum that came out of it. The whole thing took less than five minutes, and then I heard the man leave quickly. To this day, I think that cock belonged to Paulus. I haven't seen him since he and Rev dropped me off, and I don't think I've seen that cock since the day I sucked it in the booth, but I do miss him, and I certainly miss the cock of my first Master.

So I guess you're wondering where this all ends for me. Well, It's been a while since I last saw the old gang of Paulus, Rev, and Ben. In fact, once Rev and I took care of our business over the truck and the utility payments, he all but disappeared as well. I assume that they are still running their little white slave trade and sex business, but who knows? I'm too scared to drive by the old motel, and I avoid a lot of contact with the decent people I used to call friends and coworkers before all of this started last year. I have a new life now, and I like it a lot, but I doubt if any of you would ever want to live it or have anything to do with me.

I did take that job with Esther, but not without first thinking about something more respectable. I posted a few resumes and had a phone interview with a local magazine for an editor's post, but my heart just wasn't into that whole high stress rat race of a life you people live. I did it once, got out of it, and now I've decided never to go back... to hell with the consequences.

I worked for Esther as a maid for two months. I cleaned rooms, scrubbed tubs and toilets, and picked up at least a hundred used condoms off the floor of her motel. One day she offered me a chance to work the desk, and I so I did that for a couple of months as well. We parted ways when she caught me blowing a guest who had stayed past noon. It's a long story, but I was horny and he was getting dressed when I walked into his room to clean it. He wasn't really hot, but had one hell of a big cock (he was only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of black socks when I walked in) and for whatever reason he waved it at me when I opened the door. I think he was kind of a freak, and I'm sure he'd have had it up my ass in no time, but Esther came by and pushed the door open and there I was... doing what I do best. Oh well.

Esther tried to turn pretend that her motel wasn't a hot bed of sex and filth, but with the number of low rent travelers she catered to, it shouldn't have surprised her. She didn't fire me for having sex, she fired me for having sex on the job while wearing a company issued jumpsuit. She said that it didn't look professional... or something.

So now I work in a fast mart and gas station combo store just across the street from where I live. I work full time, but don't earn much, so I also pick up shifts at the local dirty bookstore on my days off. It's not as raunchy as I had anticipated, but I see some action there too, so it usually pays off for me. Oh... and I guess I should also point out that I now turn tricks part time as well. I'm worried about my retirement (I know, laugh, it's okay), so I'm doing business under the table with a group of regulars who call me when they're traveling through town. They're mostly truckers, older guys, and to them, I'm the best thing going. I'm clean, safe, dependable, cute as a button, and willing to indulge virtually any fantasy they have. It's kind of my specialty. Not that any of them are all that creative; mostly they just want to get nasty and "try stuff," so I let them... for a price. Each one has his own special kink, and for most of them, I'm the only person ever to let them experiment.

I don't have a pimp or anything, so I keep all of my earnings, and stash them away in a savings account and a safe deposit box (to avoid the tax people). I do all right, considering. Mostly though, I just live as quietly as I can out here on the edge of town. The folks I interact with aren't really scum, but I suppose most of you folks would think of us as "marginal" at best. There is, however, something very liberating about it all, and I am finally happy. I don't have much by way of "things," but my daily needs are met, and I have no worries with respect to what people think. I know what they think about me, and I benefit a great deal from that reputation every day.

So how, you might ask, did I get into hooking? Well, it's a funny story actually, so I'll leave you with it and then join you again in a few weeks with some stories about my favorite clients.

It started one Saturday night after work. I'd been at the gas station since 7am and came home both really tired and really horny. Normally that leads me to eat, hit the porn stash, and then after popping a few loads, heading off to bed. But on that night, I had nothing to eat in the cabinets, and my porn collection had grown stale, so I decided to hit the local truck stop in search of a quick burger and maybe a few bloated cocks for dessert. I like a quick role in the back of a guy's cab, so I thought that since it was the dinner hour that I might get lucky. And I did.

When I walked into the restaurant, I noticed that it was crowded (as expected), but one guy really caught my eye, so I took a seat at the counter, lit a cigarette, and ordered a greasy plate of burgers and fries and some warm coffee (a typical dinner for a guy like me). I had chosen a stool that gave me full view of the room, but it also put me in full view of my intended target: an older beefy black trucker in a red plaid shirt sitting alone in a small booth and chomping on a large plate of onion rings, which he was washing down with a pitcher of tea. Don't know why he caught my eye over everyone else, but it had been a week or two since I'd sucked on some dark meat, so maybe he just looked more appetizing that the wealth of burly white guys sitting around. I don't usually question such things, but I figured you were already wondering, so there it is.

Anyway... my target was certainly a tasty piece and I really wanted to service him in any way he might enjoy. Usually these guys are straight, but they'll let you blow them if the women are scarce and no one's really paying any attention. Usually I have to stay dressed and then whack off in the stalls later (or at home), but sometimes they'll encourage me to enjoy myself too. They just don't usually offer any assistance. Nice guys all, but they have a line and they usually don't cross it.

Half a hamburger, a plate of fries, and 3 cigarettes later, and I was losing my cool. He didn't appear interested, so I was starting to make eye contact with a lonely looking Mexican deliveryman sitting off on the other side of room. He was grinning, and I could tell he'd be the type to offer me the chance to blow him in the front of his truck, but not much else. I had all but succumbed to his charms (what few he had) when I noticed that the black guy was now staring a hole in me. I nodded, lit a fourth cigarette, and he smiled and nodded back. I tossed a ten dollar bill on the counter, slipped on my jacket and let him know that I was heading off to the men's room. There was one stall in the back that was for the disabled, so it was very private, and I'd already blown a few guys there in the previous weeks, but I was hoping that at some point one of these nasty fuckers might have me drop my trousers and fuck me over a toilet full of old piss. It was a fantasy of mine and for whatever reason, I was starting to get a hard on thinking that this big black dude might be the one to help me pull it off.

I made my way to last urinal on the wall and took a nice long piss. A minute later, he walked in and immediately unzipped his fly, reached in, and pulled out his cock as he walked towards me. He took a spot at the next urinal, stepped back a foot or two, and let the piss fly.

"You gotta place?" he said.

"Yeah, but I got company for the weekend, my sister, so it's not a good idea." I totally lied about my nonexistent sister, but I wasn't interested in dragging anyone home. I just wanted to get off quickly and go to bed.

"I'll get a room next door. I was gonna sleep in the rig, but I could use a bed, so you're free to stay if you want. I got lube and rubbers." Damn, this guy was certainly forward enough and quite a bit more aggressive than I had anticipated.

"You got it. What's your name big guy?"

"Samuel. Not Sam or Sammy. Just Samuel."

"I'm Chris." I didn't feel the need to lie about my name anymore. Besides, everyone in these parts was starting to get to know me, so he might have already heard about my talents from someone else, so I didn't want to come off looking like a total sleazebag AND a liar, too.

Samuel looked around to see if we were still alone, then he put his hand in my crotch and grabbed onto my cock. "Nice cock, Chris. You like to get fucked?"

"I love to get fucked. It's what I'm hoping for actually."

"Good thing, 'cause that's what I had in mind. I'm not paying for a room just so some faggot can blow me. I want the full treatment."

"You'll get it... in spades. I promise." With that, Samuel slipped his hand down the back of my unbuttoned jeans and squeezed my ass. He ran a finger into my crack, twirled it around my hole, and then sniffed his hand.

"You'll do. Smells nice. Let's get goin'."

I stood out in the parking lot until Samuel had secured a room, and then escorted him to his rig where he retrieved his bag and kit. Samuel gave me his stuff and then went back into the restaurant and came out with a 12 pack and a box of cheap cigars, the thin kind that one smokes like cigarettes. "I thought you might like to get loaded too. You okay with that?"

"Sure, but it means I can't drive 'til morning. Are YOU okay with that?"

"Yeah. It's cool."

So in we went. The room was clean, but old, and smelled like stale cigarettes and cheap toilet cleanser. The heat was on, and Samuel started stripping as soon as we closed the door.

"Why don't you crack open a couple of bottles while I take another piss. I'll shower later, after we've relaxed a little bit." Samuel stood in the bathroom and pissed with the door ajar while I opened the bottles and lit a cigarette. I took off my coat and sat on the bed. I wanted to yell out to Samuel and ask him if he'd like to piss on me instead, but I thought better of it. He seemed like a nice guy, and I didn't want him to kick me out on the street by going too far so soon.

Samuel made his back into the room, and reached for his beer. He lit a cigar, inhaled it as if he'd been without for weeks, and then leaned against the wall across from me. He was one hell a beefy guy, and my ass was already twitching for his cock.

Samuel was a big guy. At least 6 ft, extremely broad shoulders that sloped a bit, a thick neck, big pecks, and a massive gut with an equally juicy pair of thighs to match. He was dark brown, not black, with a large bald head, a gray moustache, and a big toothy grin. Samuel wore a red plaid shirt, old jeans, black boots, and a black leather vest that was two sizes too small. The vest was trimmed with white stitches that had gone beige from age. He wore a thick belt with a flag buckle and his large wallet was chained to his belt loop. He looked and sounded just like all the other guys I ran into these days, only bigger and more dramatic.... And also black.

Samuel lowered himself to the floor and stretched out his legs so that his feet were almost touching mine. He leaned against the wall, chugged his beer, and flicked his ashes on the old carpet. Mostly, though, he just stared at me while I drank.

"Take off your pants and let get a look at your cock." Samuel said this between puffs, like he was talking to a stripper or a pole dancer. I'm not intimidated by much anymore, so I stood up and unbuttoned my pants and let them fall to my knees. I lifted my shirttails and rubbed my cock to half-staff and kept my eyes locked onto his. We both grinned.

"Take 'em off. I want to see you naked." I took off everything, including my t-shirt and let it all pile up on the floor. "Now walk over here and straddle me."

I did what he asked. Samuel reached up and stroked my cock to a full erection then let it slip into his mouth. Wow. I wasn't expecting anything so gentle. He put down his beer and put his big rough hand on my ass and pushed his chapped finger into my rectum. I didn't wince, but squatted a little to give him better access. This, I thought, I could come to like.

The guy was getting really heavy with my cock. He definitely had a taste for dick and a talent for sucking them. I placed my head against the wall and my hands on his shoulders as I slowly pushed my ass down onto his extended finger. "Give me ass a second one. Go ahead, I can take it."

Samuel pushed another finger in and tightened his mouth a little more. I started pumping my hips into his face so that my cock could go deeper into his throat. Damn, this felt good, and it was something I didn't get to experience very often. In my world, I'm the cocksucker, so this was a really nice change.

"Turn around, bend over and hold onto my ankles, and spread your legs." I pushed my ass into Samuel's face, hoping for a rim job, but he went for my sac instead. He pushed his fingers back into my ass, only this time he'd coated them in a little beer. I knew because they were wet and cold, so it wasn't saliva. It had to be the beer.

"So you like to get fucked, huh? How hard. Tell me how you like it."

"Well, I like it. Period. What I really want is for you to take those fingers out of my ass and put that cock of yours in there instead. It's been a few days, and I just really need a good raw fuck. But seriously, Samuel, you can do it however you want. It's your call. Tell me what you want to do to my ass and we'll do it."

"What I want is to fuck it hard then maybe later fuck it again some other way. Since you're staying here tonight, I expect at least two good orgasms. We'll see how it all happens later. Depends on where we end up." I found this whole thing confusing. 'End up'? What did that mean? This guy was not what I'd been used to. Normally, I didn't have a lot of options. I felt like a fish out of water, and I wasn't sure if I liked it as much as I'd originally hoped. At this point I was kind of hoping he'd whip me a little, but that was not to be.

"Slide forward, Chris, and let me stand up." Sam pulled his fingers out of my asshole, and I spun around and knelt in front of his hulking frame. His cock was hard now, and it was pushing against his tight, worn jeans. I reached up and unfastened his belt. He assisted and unzipped his fly and gave me a nice up close look at things. His cock was shorter that average (meaning mine) but thicker than most. He pubes were bushy and mostly gray, and his short sac was stretched tight by two extra large nuts. But what really caught me was the odor. Samuel hadn't showered in over a day, and the smell of funky crotch sweat drifted into my nostrils. It's an acquired taste, as it were, but it's a smell I'd come to love.

"I guess I need to shower before we go much further. It's been a while."

"No... not yet. I like it. Really. Drop your pants and shorts, so can get more of you."

Samuel seemed amused, but he stepped back and stripped from the waist down. I unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt and rubbed his large belly to let him know that I approved and that he need not worry about his extra girth. Plus, he was tall and big-boned, so he wore it well... like a real man. Samuel shook his cock and then aimed it at my mouth, which I quickly opened and filled with his hard thick meat. It really was funky. The dried sweat mixed nicely with his piss stained flesh and fresh precum, and the flavor made my head spin. I rubbed his thighs and calves and then pulled on his balls to see if he might like that too. He did.

"Samuel. How about I lay out on the floor and you sit on my face for a while. I'd really like to give your ass a good tongue bath. How 'bout it? Don't worry about showering. I like it raunchy. The raunchier the better." I didn't wait for him to accept my offer. I just laid out flat and motioned for him to squat down and cover my face with his wide beefy black ass.

"Damn, boy. You really are a freak for this stuff. All right then. You got it, but you'd better get ready, 'cause once you get started, I'm not gonna let you stop." He laughed at this and didn't seem really serious, but he did stand over my face and then drop to his knees. I reached up and spread his cheeks to reveal a bright red and very fleshy asshole. The smell of his dirty ass was like perfume, and I breathed it in and then quickly started licking his raunchy shit-stained rim.

Samuel loved it. It didn't take long for him to relax and start grinding his whole backside into my face. Once I got him all wet, I pushed my tongue into his shitter and darted it in and out as quickly as I could. Samuel really liked this a lot, and he started moaning as he held onto my cock as if he were riding a fuck machine or maybe a mechanical bull. He really was foul. He'd definitely not bathed in a while, and it really showed, but I got turned on by it, even more so than usual. I gave that fat fucker one hell of a rim job. I'd bet my life that he'd never had anything like that before. It was obvious from the twitching and the grinding and the moaning and the shaking. He was, indeed, very much in heaven while sitting there on my face impaled on my tongue. In fact, I'm surprised he didn't cum. I've no doubt he was close. No doubts at all.

After about fifteen minutes of raw and non-stop ass munching, Samuel leaned forward and fell onto all fours. By now he'd stripped himself bare as well, so he hung his hard cock over my face, rubbed his naked belly on my chest, and then went down on my cock again. Samuel loved to suck white cock almost as much as I loved sucking black cock. We were quite a pair. The room had also continued to get hotter so both of us were now glistening with a fresh layer of sweat. Samuel was caked with two days of it, so the new moisture re-ignited the older salty layers and again, my head started to spin as I breathed it all in.

We sucked each other for a while and then Samuel announced that he needed to find his lube. He stood up and went to his kit and came back with a bottle of silicone lubricant (the good stuff) and a handful of condoms. I appreciated the gesture because to be honest, I wasn't used to seeing those. My Masters never bothered, and I realize that I had been playing Russian roulette with their cocks for months. Fortunately, I was negative, and still am.

"Get on the bed, I want us to be comfortable. Here, have some beer, and let's take a smoke break." We lit up and climbed on the bed with two fresh beers. After I smoked, Samuel had me lie back and lift my legs. He coated his fingers with lube and inserted first two, and then three fingers as I quietly squirmed for more.

Without saying anything, he stood up on his knees and rolled a condom over his cock and lifted my legs over his shoulders. "Go in quick, deep, and don't hold back. I want to hurt. If I scream out, just ignore me and keep pushing. I like it that way. Seriously. I want it to hurt. I need you to hurt me when you fuck me."

"Well that don't sound right, but if you want me to go all in, then I will and gladly." He laughed again and seemed a little timid as he placed the head of his short fat cock against my hole, but then he did what I'd told him to do. He leaned forward to get the right angle, and then he fell on top of me and pushed his entire thick cock into my asshole with one fast jerking motion. Damn, that thing was thick and it hurt like hell, but I wanted it to. I needed to feel raped by this very nice and gentle man. The act set my ass on fire. It felt like he'd ripped me open, and I liked it. It reminded me of the Masters and how they'd always fucked me. I needed to be fucked like that again.

Samuel didn't start to pump me right away. He curled my body up under his and put his mouth onto mine and shoved his tongue inside as if we were long lost lovers who'd been reunited. He was a brutal fuck, but a deeply passionate man, and I was not used to it. Not one bit. Finally he started to move his hips. First, side to side, and then in a grinding circular motion that really challenged me and sent shockwaves deep into my bowels. The rim of my ass was burning from how far he had stretched it, but he never let up. He just kept grinding and fucking me with an ever-increasing degree of intensity and speed. I was trapped underneath this large steaming pile of rank flesh with a too-fat cock ripping into my intestines and a tongue shoved deep into my mouth. I couldn't move, but I didn't want to. I wanted it to last for as long as he could go.

Samuel came up to breathe, which he paired with an even deeper thrust to my ass with his cock. "How is it, Chris? How's that ass of yours doing? You like my cock? You like the way I'm fucking you with it?"

"Damn, man... harder. Ah shit... just let go man and really rip one into me. Fuck me hard, Sam, make it hurt. Treat me like your whore, man... fuck me fuck me fuck me. FUCK ME!"

"Oh, I'll fuck you alright. Role over bitch, and I'll really give it to you." Old Samuel had finally come alive and he was loving the new game he was suddenly playing. "Get up on your knees you filthy whore and show me that pussy."

I rose up and aimed my hole at his cock and he pummeled me with it as quickly as he could. I yelled out as he ripped into me again, and the two of us fell against the headboard, which was now slapping hard against the motel wall.

"Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me. Yeah, come on, man, fuck my nasty ass and really make it hurt. Damn... you gotta a fat cock. Aaaah Dammmn. Come on man, make it bleed. Make it fuckin' bleed."

"You sick fuck. I got your cock right here. Take it man... take it. TAKE IT ALL."

Samuel really let loose on me at that point. He put his large hands on the wall above me and powered his cock deeper and deeper into my ass with every ounce of his 300-pound frame. The headboard was rocking and I found myself hoping that whoever was next door might get turned on and whack off to sounds of strangers fucking. Who knows if it happened, but I imagined that it did.

Samuel was too turned on to slow down or let up. He just kept ramming into me harder and harder. He wasn't worried about hurting me at this point because he seemed to know that to be hurt is what I really wanted from him. He finally blew one hell of a big load into his condom and then fell back onto the bed, ripping his cock from my ass as he did.

I looked back and saw his entire body breathing heavily, and his gut almost jumping off of the bed as he tried to catch his breath. He was laughing, but wasn't making any noise. He'd had a really good time, and he just couldn't believe his luck... or so I assumed. I really needed to cum at that point, and I knew it wouldn't take much, so I reached up and grabbed my cock and shot a load onto the sheets after just a few strokes. Damn, I was hurting too, and so I collapsed onto my chest and tried to breath.

"Shit, man. You okay up there Chris? How you doing?"

"Fine," I said. "Just fine. Thank you... I really liked it. You're fuckin' amazing. Damn."

"ME? Shit, you are one sick motherfucker. Damn, baby. That was TOO HOT. Now how about that shower?"

"Go ahead. I'll catch up in a minute."

Samuel took a long and well-deserved shower while I smoked another cigarette and finished off both of my beers. I wasn't buzzed yet, so I cracked open a third one and chugged it as I walked to the bathroom. Samuel was just finishing up, as I walked in.

"How's that ass of yours? It ok? I didn't hurt you or anything?"

"Ha, No it's fine. Mind if I take a shit, though. I think you knocked some stuff loose." I forgot myself for a moment and before I realized it I was squatting over the toilet ready to release whatever was trapped inside. "Uh, sorry. You offended?"

"Nah, not really. You go ahead. Don't mind me." So I did. I think he got off on it a little. He'd been a trucker all his life, so I'm sure he's seen his fair share of bathhouse shitters without stall doors, but I doubt he'd ever seen someone shit out the lube he'd just been fucked with.

Samuel toweled off while standing in the shower, and then stepped out to dry his feet. I reached up and grabbed his cock from the toilet and asked him if I could suck him off. Surprisingly, he let me. He dropped his towel and leaned forward and let me eat his moist cock while I sat on the john. Looking back I have to laugh because I don't make a habit of doing that kind of thing very often, but when I do, I'm always amazed at the reaction. It's usually an instant turn on for whoever is standing there. There's just something about it I guess.

"Go lie down, and let me shower. Keep that thing hard, because when I'm done, I'm going to sit on it and take you on a long slow ride to heaven and back." Yeah, corny, I know, but I liked this guy and I really liked his fat cock, so I wanted more and I wanted him to have a good time before he hit the road. I finished up, showered quickly and returned to Samuel. He was stretched out on the bed, his cock covered in a fresh condom and soaked in lube. He was slowly jerking off to keep it hard for me, just like I asked.

I climbed on top of him and let his cock slide into my ass. It didn't take much effort at that point, and it didn't really hurt like it had before. I leaned forward and curled my legs up on either side of his massive torso and slowly moved my ass around just to keep him stimulated. We kissed again, tongues and all, and with great passion. We rocked back and forth for almost an hour, just like that... locked into that one position.

Samuel was able to hold off, but I couldn't. Before I came, I told him not to stop fucking me, but to pick up the pace and not pull out when I shot. "No matter what I do, DO NOT pull out. Keep that thing buried in me and pump me as hard as can. You'll get one hell of tight fuck out of it, and you'll have a really hot orgasm. Ok?"

"You got it." A few seconds later I blew a thin load of jizz on Samuel's dark gut, and to turn him on, I wiped it up with my fingers and tucked them into my mouth. I tried to have him pull out, but he took me at my word and pushed into me even further. He wrapped his arms around my chest and pulled me into him, which kept me from trying to escape. He increased his rhythm, and a few seconds later he drove in hard and blew another load into his condom. My ass was as tight as a one inch steel ring, so I knew Samuel's cock was having one hell of an orgasm when he arched his back and almost tossed me onto the floor from the shock of it. Again, something he'd probably never had before.

The next thing I knew, it was 4am, and I was curled up next to a large black man who was snoring like a wild animal dying in the forest. Damn. I got up and went to the toilet and washed my ass really well while I was there, then sat on the edge of the bed and smoked a cigarette. Samuel rolled over and stopped snoring long enough for me to get back to sleep. When I woke up again, Samuel was gone and light was pouring into the room through the paper-thin drapes.

I walked around looking for my clothes and found a stained white envelope in the bureau. On the outside of the envelope in red ink was the name CRIS, all in caps and spelled wrong. I opened the envelope and five one hundred dollar bills fell out onto the floor. Whoa.

I read the note (and kept it). Here's what it said... misspellings are his.

C: Thanks a lot for last night. I really neded that a lot. Don't know why we didn't talk about price so hear is five hundred which I hope is ok. Normally an allnight one is three, but you are the best so I'm giving you an extra two as a tipp. You deserved it. I called my bud James this morning and told him that I found someone he will like. He'll pass threw here on Thursday so I told him I'd give you his number to call. I hope you can fit him in. He has a hard time with Pros. They never want to do his thing but I think you'll like it and you'll definitely like him. Call him as a favor to me, but you'll like his style and he has a big cock just made for fucking assholes like yours. I told him I thought you were expensive but that you were worth it. Call him. His name is James and his number is ##########. Thanks agin. Samuel.

PS: here is my number to. Call me later and I will give you my travel schedule. Can we do things agin? I'd like that and for you money is not a problem. S.

Shit. Shit. Shit. This decent, but very hot, man thought I was a callboy? Damn. I have been mistaken for a lot of things in my life, but a truck stop hooker is not on that list (well, there was that one time, but, well, you know all about that one already.) Anyway, not being particularly ashamed, I took the money, dressed and disappeared as quickly as I could. I had to run the bookstore from 3-9pm, so I needed to go home, do laundry, clean, eat, oh... and count my five hundred dollars!

Most hookers hang up their spikes at 40, but I was well past that age when I first got started. I looked at it this way. I have a lot of sex with a lot of men who have a history of occasionally having to pay for it. I, however, had been giving it away for free almost daily. Why do that when I can get paid for the same thing? Sure, it gives them more control, but so what... I'm certainly used to having other men tell me what I'm going to do, and from my perspective, there really isn't any kink that I wouldn't at least try once.

So now I have a semi-lucrative part time ass-for-cash business. It has afforded me peace of mind mostly, but one day I know I'll not be able to do it anymore, and I want to know that I have something to show for it, so I stash away everything I make. Hopefully, I can buy a small house with it one day, or maybe just retire and live without fear. Either way, I'm going to be fine.

Yes, I did call James, and yes, we see each other once a month now. And yes, he's a bit weird, but I'll tell you about that one day soon. I promise. In the meantime, I'm going to start writing about some of my other clients, but just the really interesting ones. I'll post them in a new series. Look for it... and if you're ever passing through my truck stop, look for me!

The End.

A Postscript: As promised, I will start posting a new series that provides you guys with details of my current life as a part-time callboy and general deviant. I recently relocated to a small house with a rent-to-own option, so I've been a little busy fixing things up and getting settled. After the new year, as things calm down, I'll hit the old laptop and start pounding out the prose. I don't know what I'll call the series, but if you're having trouble finding it, just email me and I'll pass along the link. Also, I ran into an old nemesis of mine recently who seems to be down on his luck. Hahaha. We worked together years ago and now he's in the middle of a sort of life-altering crisis that has forced him to live in a way that does not please him very much. I find his lifestyle admirable, but he hates it and would like nothing more than to disappear in a dark forest somewhere. Anyway, I know some things about him and what he's been up to and I love that he's having such a hard time these days. He was never a very nice person to work with (backstabber), so I'm going to tell you about him as well at some point. A lot what I write will be fictional, but the subtext of that story will be pretty accurate. Sorry to be so cryptic, but I get a lot of emails from you guys, and you often ask me things about my life and want to know what I'm up to these days, so this little addition is really directed at those of you who have become regular readers. Cheers, and Happy New Year! -CXG-