Master Juan informs me he is handing me over to his two slaves for the rest of the night as a reward. They take me back to their quarters. At first they speak in Chinese, but realising I don't understand a word, they simply push me down into one of their slave box beds, lift me legs above my head and fuck me. The first returns to his own bed and I can hear him snoring before the second has finished fucking me. This one then lowers my legs, lies down beside me, pushes his short stubby cock into my mouth and goes to sleep. When he starts snoring I remove his cock from my mouth and try to sleep myself.
An alarm bell rings. My sleeping companion shakes me awake and indicates for me to shower. For the first time I see myself in the mirror. Completely bald and no eyebrows. I'm a monster! And the SC brand normally hidden by my hair starkly visible above my slave collar. I weep as I shave looking at myself. I give myself an enema and shower. The Chinese guy starts shouting words at me I can understand.
"Quickly, quickly. Reception. Quickly."
I dash down stairs and reach the bottom as the alarm bell stops. I join the second row of slaves lining up for inspection by Kaiser. I'm overjoyed to see Rollo as he turns in the front row and give me a smile and wink without Kaiser noticing. At least he recognises me without my hair. Several slaves have to turn, bend over and receive Kaiser's finger up their arse. He finds them clean and so none are spanked. Kaiser reads out the duties allocated by Master Joop. Rollo is sent with several others to the kitchen so I am delighted when I'm allocated the same work. I follow another kitchen duty slave upstairs and into the enormous restaurant kitchen. It's ultra modern and gleaming clean. Some of the slaves work in the kitchen regularly and one of them tells us to relax as the Chef Lenny is always late. Another slave explains he's another of Master Joop's long term permanent slaves who is a highly qualified French chef. That's why like Kaiser he hasn't been retired as other slaves are at the age of thirty-one. Yet another adds that Lenny has the privilege of sexually using any of the kitchen slaves and that although he's normally quite jolly, he also has a fierce temper.
Rollo comes over to me, smiles, runs his hand over my shaved head, hugs me tightly to him and gives me a long kiss. His hands stroke my back and arse cheeks. It feels so good. He presses his tongue deep into my mouth and I suck on it hard until he removes it.
"Don't worry girlie, I love your head with or without. It'll grow babe."
He licks his tongue along each of my bald eyebrows. "Grow in no time. Which bastard did it?"
I'm about to say when Lenny barges his way through the door. The crowd of slaves stop talking and stand to attention with their heads bowed. Lenny looks to be about forty-five, quite tall, but grossly fat, with a red face, a fringe of hair around a red bald dome and a tiny cock almost hidden by belly rolls of blubber. At the moment he's laughing and jolly as he tells the regular kitchen slaves to get on with their work and gives each of them a playful slap of encouragement on their bottoms. About ten of us newcomers are left waiting to be allocated jobs.
"As I presume none of you can boil an egg, I must find you other work." A French accent.
Lenny, perhaps intrigued by me being the only bald slave, starts with me. He takes hold of my hard cock.
"I think boy you have met Master Juan?"
"Yes Master."
"Cheeky! Lenny will be quite sufficient thank you boy. Now, on your knees, find my pecker with your very sexy lips and suck it."
On my knees, hands behind my back, I nose under the rolls of his stomach and search with my tongue. His naked belly flesh feels blubbery on my shaven head. I make contact with his cock ring and tracing back find his soft cock and circumcised knob. My lips close around it and I suck on him. In spite of my vigorous efforts it remains soft. He edges forward and my mouth slides down over his grape size testicles to his arsehole. I'm sure this is his real intention and I probe and fuck his back passage with my tongue. It has the not unpleasant taste of the house enema and I work on him. Now I'm hotly turned on by what I'm being made to do and the thought of the other slaves and Rollo watching me humiliate myself. Lenny steps back and I find myself looking up at him as he gasps slightly. My tongue still hangs out.
"You're good boy. I think vegetables. Over there." He points to one side of the kitchen.
I give Rollo a grin and make my way to the vegetable section. One of the regular slaves puts me to work cleaning, shredding and cutting. It's quite a pleasant relief after all the beatings of the past few days. And after a couple of hours another bonus, we stop for coffee and cookies. We gather around Lenny who sits on a stool as we all squat on the floor and drink coffee from small bowls. Lenny has a slave sucking his cock while he throws biscuits to his kitchen slaves. I'm starving and snatch at any coming in my direction. Rollo pushes his way to where I'm sitting, sits down and puts his arm around me.
"Hi girlie-boy," Rollo said.
This form of address might offend some guys, but I love it. He's loyal and I regard him as my lover, my secret husband. It always thrills me to hear him greet me. We're so different and yet there's so much we appreciate about each other. We're both from London and about the same age and height. He's black and I'm white. He has a beautiful muscular body whereas I am slim and, as he says, more girlie. He has gorgeous black eyes whereas mine are blue. His hair is cropped short and, until it was shaved off, my naturally wavy blond hair reached my shoulders. Last, but not least, he can be very masterful compared to my natural submissiveness. My prick's a reasonable size and uncircumcised, but his is much bigger, circumcised, and with a purple knob I can never resist sucking when we're fortunate to have time to ourselves. Now he nibbles on my neck and whispers.
"I wanna fuck you Ian mate. I've sussed out this place. When this lot go back to work just follow me. OK?"
"They'll notice."
"You're my slave, just do it." Rollo growls softly.
I nod obediently and when Lenny orders us back to work I follow Rollo. He runs down stairs at the rear of the kitchen and I find myself following him through storerooms packed with all sorts of foodstuffs and then down more stairs into several connecting wine cellars. Up stairs again and now we're in a sort of Aladdin's cave filled with furniture, carpets, pictures and ornaments. Rollo eases his way through a narrow gap between two tall antique cupboards onto a king size bed entirely surrounded by stacks of furniture. Wow! A secret 'den'. Rollo pulls me down to kneel next to him. We look at each other and smile, and then kiss as would two long parted lovers. I forget the dangers and give myself to him as he invades my mouth and I pull on his tongue with my lips. He lets me go, puts his arm down at the side of the bed and brings up a bottle of champagne. Already opened! Trust Rollo!
"Have a drink Ian boy. Let's celebrate before I fuck you." He thrusts the bottle at me.
I drink mouthfuls and mouthfuls of the foaming wine before he takes it, leans back and drinks himself. My eyes are drawn immediately to his massive hard black cock jutting up from his groin and I dive down to swallow it into my mouth and enjoy long in and out tight sucks. I can feel his hand going down my back and ending up on the crack of my bare bottom. Such a wonderful touch of ownership as he rubs his fingers up and down my arsehole. And then his long, slender index finger probes into my boycunt, readying me for the fuck he intends and I so badly want. I hear the empty bottle drop to the floor. Rollo, my Master, pushes me back from his cock, lies me out flat on the bed, parts my legs wide, lifts them up over my chest and aims his rigid cock straight at my hole. I can see it in all it's rampant glory as it comes towards me then disappears from my sight and I feel it sliding into me, into its home. Then it slides out, and in again so gently yet so forcibly. I'm helpless to prevent it and can do nothing except tighten my muscles to give him maximum pleasure. We look into each other's eyes. His fierce and possessive. Mine, I'm sure, smiling, but as servile as a male bitch should be waiting for breeding seed to be pumped into me. It takes a while as he builds up to the excitement of his orgasm. I wank my prick desperately. The eruption comes as he thrusts in with a final yell and I feel his spunk gushing into me. Many spurts follow as he continues his ramming. My own prick shoots a spout of semen into the air and it falls back on my tits and face.
We relax together, my spunk slithering between our bodies, as we come down from the breathless emotional heights of sex. He lies on top of me and kisses me gently on my lips, thrusts his tongue into my mouth to demonstrate to me his love and his dominance over me. I couldn't ask for anything more. He is my Master and I'm his slave.
I'm awakened by the sound of voices. I place a hand over Rollo's mouth; he's snoring rather noisily and I'm frightened we'll be discovered. Rollo grips my wrist, hears the voices, places a finger to his lips and peers through a gap in the surrounding furniture. The voices are nearer and I listen.
"We should have taken the launch John."
"Stop the fuck moaning Gerry, this is much quicker."
They're close. I can hear their footsteps on the bare floorboards. Rollo draws away from the gap and signals for me to take a look. Two guys wearing full black leather kit are moving away from us down a narrow walkway between the stacks of furniture.
"Quick, let's follow," said Rollo.
I'm scared and think his idea's quite mad, but of course I follow as he squirms his way between the cupboards again and runs on tiptoe in the direction taken by the two Masters. Rollo stops suddenly and peers furtively around an enormous pile of oriental carpets. We hear a door being unlocked and bolts being drawn and then a heavy door slams. We both run forward. The two Masters have gone. They've exited through the ancient wooden door directly in front of us. The massive old bolts are off, but a modern stainless steel lock has clicked into place preventing the door being opened from the outside. Rollo turns and hugs me.
"This is it Ian man. We're out of here."
"Without clothes? No money? You're crazy!" I'm not usually more practical minded than Rollo.
"Details girlie. Details! Don't you see, everything we need is here." Rollo waves his hands in the air indicating the whole place then slaps my bottom. "Start looking or I'll spank your arse. Clothes, money, jewels, anything useful. OK?"
Rollo goes off in one direction and me in the other. When I start opening drawers and cupboards my hopes are raised. There are things, but how useful? Sarongs from the Far East, silk scarves and silk neckties in the first cupboard. Nothing in the next three and then, in an antique bureau, a dozen gold rings set with precious stones and in a small drawer three gold watches. Having no pockets I place the rings on my fingers and fasten the watches on both my wrists. I hear a low whistle I recognise as Rollo and scamper back to the door. He beckons for me to follow him around piles of furniture and crates until we reach a large wardrobe with its doors standing open. It's full of leather gear. Jackets, jeans, belts, boots, vests, hoods and much else.
"Fancy being a Master, fuckboy?" Rollo grins and starts trying on a jacket.
Wearing clothes for the first time for ages feels rather strange at first. Being naked is what turns me on, but now I find wearing tight leather jeans and a jacket over my nakedness also prove exciting. The knee-high motor cycle boots are too big, but okay. Rollo looks awesome in full leather and I'm ready to drop on my knees and kiss his boots. We share the rings and watches between our hands and wrists.
"You need something." Rollo announces.
He selects a wide black leather collar with metal rings attached and fastens it around my neck.
"That's better. Hides your metal collar and the slave circle brand. My button-up high collar will do the same for me." He looks at his watch.
"If this is right it's late afternoon. First we need a pawnbrokers or a dodgy jeweller. Let's go."
Rollo opens the door, steps out, looks both ways, grabs my hand and pulls me forward.
"We're on freedom road. Come on." We head off down a narrow alleyway.
It has high buildings on each side and seems eerily quiet. I guess we must be in an old warehouse district. Not a person in sight. Ahead I can see what looks like a main thoroughfare with vehicles moving. I'm nervous if not scared to be out 'free' in a strange city where I can't even speak the language. We reach the junction. Not such a busy road, lined on either side by closed up business premises, with only a few pedestrians. Rollo stops a young guy in work overalls. I hang back.
"Shops?" Rollo enquires. He's typical English tourist, thinking if you speak loud enough a foreigner will understand English.
"What sort of shop my friend?" the reply in near perfect English with a Dutch accent. "A gay porn shop perhaps?" He grins. We're identified!
"Well, yeah. Or a jewellery shop." Rollo flashes his be-ringed fingers.
The grin widens. He's got the message. He points.
"That way. Small shop on the corner buys anything. Don't expect fair prices. Then, same street, take tram and ask anyone on it for gay area. In English will do." He holds out his hand, Rollo shakes it and they grin at each other.
The junk shop owner looks at the rings and can't disguise the sparkle in his eyes, but shakes his head slowly. I hand over both my watches and the dealer smiles. Even I know Rolex watches don't come cheap. He opens the till, counts out four hundred Euros in small notes, sees the sceptical look on Rollo's face and adds another hundred. It's for sure we've been well and truly conned.
We decide to walk into the city centre and enjoy our new freedom to window shop and enjoy the views as we cross bridges over several canals. We begin to see numerous bars with rainbow flags hanging outside and know we've found what we're looking for. But first we decide to have a blow-out meal in a small restaurant displaying a rainbow label. We have the first decent meal since we left London. The waiters are all gay, friendly and very chatty. One, a rather hunky butch guy wearing a denim shirt and leather jeans and who has introduced himself as Hatto, appears particularly interested in me. He places a finger through one of the rings on my collar and tugs slightly when he brings us our check.
"You guys doing the bars tonight?" He asks.
"Yeah. Any you can recommend Hatto?" Rollo said.
"They're all good, but I think you'd like the 'Zero Two Zero Seven'. Three streets down on the left. Tell the doorman Hatto sent you." Hatto kisses us on both our cheeks before we leave. He squeezes my leather-clad bottom too.
It's now dark, but the brightly lit crowded streets and the amplified sound of music coming from bars makes for an almost carnival atmosphere. And most of the guys, young and old, and many without shirts are stunning. We find the 'Zero Seven Zero Seven' quite easily. It's situated in a quiet side street and has a metal studded door. Rollo presses the bell, a small hatch opens and a shadowy face gives us the once over.
"Hatto sent us", Rollo said.
The door swings open and a big gorilla of a man wearing full leather admits us into a small dark lobby. He slams the entrance door and using the stock of a cat-of-nine-tails pushes open a padded inner door. I hear, not too loud, the hard beat of rock music. Inside is what looks like a dimly lit cavern with a seemingly endless bar with bar stools and a brightly-lit array of optics and bottles behind the bar. Spaced out every ten feet behind the bar stand attractive young barmen wearing bright red t-shirts and waiting for customers. We walk down the bar admiring the 'Tom of Finland' prints decorating the opposite wall. It's comparatively early so only a few stools are occupied. Those guys there turn to view us as we pass and each barman greets us with a dazzling smile. We take stools side by side and the nearest black haired, blue eyed barman leans across the bar.
"Good evening gentlemen. I'm Danny. And what may I get you to drink?" A soft Irish accent.
"Beer for me man and a double gin and tonic for my friend," said Rollo.
Rollo insists we down our drinks quickly and signals for Danny to bring the same again. We both begin to relax, unzip our jackets and turn to watch the passing parade of Masters and slaves as the bar fills up. A few together, but mostly guys cruising on their own. Left and right keys and coloured handkerchiefs prominently displayed. Rollo and I both attract our share of looks and smiles.
"Take your cap off boy, let them see your bum smooth head," Rollo orders.
It works instantly. An older guy I've noticed leaning against the wall smoking a long fat cigar and looking at me for the past half-hour pushes through the crowd until he's standing between us. He looks down into my eyes. His are hazel coloured. Wow! What a hunk in black leather. Over six feet tall, broad shoulders, extremely good looking and probably in his mid-thirties. He takes the cigar from his mouth and blows a cloud of fragrant smoke into my face.
"Would you like a drink boy?" An educated middle class English accent.
"I'm with my friend," I manage to stutter, indicating Rollo.
"Then let me buy him a drink too." He smiles at Rollo and snaps his fingers at Danny. "Same again for all of us if you don't mind Danny."
"My names Sinclair," he holds out his hand to Rollo and they both shake.
"Hi. I'm Rollo, he's Ian."
"And is Ian your slave Rollo?"
"Got it in one. Stand up boy and let Sinclair sit down."
I do as I'm told and stand pressed between their knees as Sinclair takes my stool and continues smoking his cigar. Danny brings two beers for them and another large G&T for me. We click glasses and drink. I feel what can only be Sinclair's hand squeezing my arse cheek. Excited, I gulp down more G&T.
"That's an interesting scar you have on your neck," said Sinclair.
I jerk my head around and can see the SC brand on Rollo's neck above his metal slave collar. He'd forgotten about both when loosening his jacket.
"Yeah, well er... fell off my bike when I was a kid." Rollo casually fingers the brand.
"And did your slave fall off his bike too? May I check?"
Without waiting for Rollo's answer, Sinclair unfastens the broad leather collar around my neck and leans down to look more closely, blowing smoke into my ear.
"You must forgive me Rollo for being so presumptuous, this I think is more a brand than a scar from childhood.
"Yeah, you're right in his case. Mine shouldn't have happened if you know what I mean?"
By now I shouldn't be surprised at Rollo's fast-talking, but this time he's amazing me.
"Yes, I'm sure accidents do happen at School Charles. If YOU know what I mean? Perhaps the solution is for us to share the slave." Master Sinclair squeezes my bottom very hard.
"Yeah, why not?" said Rollo, zipping up his jacket and turning up the collar to hide the brand.
"Good. So may I inspect him?"
"Help yourself," said Rollo.
Sinclair unzips my jacket, opens it up and starts playing with my nipples. I wince as he twists them hard. He smiles, obviously satisfied with my reaction. He pushes my jacket off my shoulders and it slithers to the floor.
"Lift up your arms boy."
I raise my arms above my head. Heads are beginning to turn nearby. Master Sinclair runs his fingers over my smooth armpits.
"Excellent." He snaps his fingers again. "That sharp knife you keep under the bar Danny."
I stand waiting naked from the waist up, arms above my head showing my hairless body. The crowd have heard the orders and eased back to allow more room for the show they now expect. Sinclair unbuckles my belt, pulls it out from the loops and hands it to Rollo. He lowers the zip on my leather jeans and my hard erection juts out for the crowd to see. Then he turns me around, takes the glimmering short dagger Danny hands him and I can feel him cutting down the back seam of my jeans and under my crotch. He spins me around, inserts the dagger again and slowly cuts his way up to the bottom of the zip. He hands the dagger back to Danny who, with several of his colleagues, is watching, lust in his blue eyes. Cigar in his mouth, Sinclair takes both sides of the zip opening in his hands and wrenches my jeans apart. The two parts flop to my knees leaving me naked and totally exhibited with my hard bobbing prick encircled by the metal cockring. The crowd shout and whistle while I blush and secretly enjoy the public humiliation. Master Sinclair runs his hands over my chest, down my belly, holds my prick for a moment, plays with my balls, turns me around, fondles my butt and inserts what I suddenly realise is his long cigar between my arse crack into my hole. He removes the cigar, turns me again and holds it to my mouth. I glance at all the guys watching then take the cigar into my mouth and suck it clean. He confirms his dominance and my submission by flicking the ash from his cigar over my naked body. He takes another puff while placing his hands on each side of my waist and lifting me up like a boy and sitting me on the edge of the bar.
"Slaves shouldn't wear boots, should they Rollo?"
My two Masters each pull off one of my boots and what's left of my jeans.
"Stand up on the bar boy and keep your hands up above your head," Sinclair orders.
Scrambling upright, my hands held high, I'm completely naked except for the signs of my slavehood.
"Trot up and down the bar boy until I say otherwise." Master Sinclair orders.
It's about fifty feet in either direction and I trot at least four full rounds before he signals me to stop and get down off the bar.
"I need a piss. What about you Rollo? Is he trained?" Master Sinclair asks.
"Sure," Rollo said.
Rollo pushes me down to my knees, unzips and produces his hard black cock. I take it into my mouth and it's joined a second later by Master Sinclair's white, still floppy trunk of a weapon. Piss starts to flow and it's impossible for me to cope with both streams even though I'm gulping hard. Some of it leaks out onto the floor.
"Down and lap it up boy."
I hear Rollo shouting as they both withdraw their cocks. My eyes are on the circle of boots belonging to those observing my degradation as my tongue works overtime on the pool of piss.
Please let me know what you think of this chapter. will.obe@btinternet.com
Will Obe (c) Copyright