Please publish this as "Q sub

By Gregory Gordon

Published on Sep 7, 2024

Gay

There's an alleyway behind "The Gentleman" where I'm ordered to strip off everything I'm wearing, including my sneakers and to stand there barefoot on the cold ground while Craig walks around to the front of the store to let Henry know I'm—oh, "the slave" is waiting for him. The slave—that's me, naked and fucking freezing. It's only 40 degrees out right now.

The back door opens and the command is given: "Enter."

I walk in and the door closes behind me. I'm standing in a tiny entrance-way and oh, my, it's wonderfully warm in here and the carpet is thick and seems heated as well. Nothing else happens for a good while and all I can think about is just how nice it is to feel warm again but also fucking weird this whole thing is.

A young fellow comes in with a steaming cup of something—tea? "Drink this, slave," he says to me, then stands there until I've managed to get all of it down. It's amazingly delicious—some kind of exotic tea, I guess. Next thing I know, waves of pleasure are flowing through my body and I can't help but moan at the delightful intensity of it all. Whatever was in that tea, I wish I knew who to thank for it and ask if they could give some more of it to my Master.

After I put down the cup the guy who brought me the "tea" opens his pants and takes out a nicely shaped cock. "Kneel and suck, slave." Gladly. It's adorable and only about five inches hard—easy to take all the way into my mouth. "Suck, slave. Up and down, slowly, use your tongue to give me pleasure. Suck my virgin dick, slave."

Virgin? I wonder. "Yes, slave. Virgin. This is the first time anyone has ever had my dick in his mouth. I was promised you'd do a real good job for me, that you've been trained as a fine cocksucker. I was also promised that I could slap you around and that it would increase the pleasure I could get from using you."

He pulls back, taking his dick out of my mouth and starts slapping my face, each hand to one cheek, back and forth. He keeps slapping me until there are tears in my eyes. "I've always wanted to make a faggot cry," he tells me, "so this is a real treat for me. They told my you'd suck even better after I made you cry. Show me, slave, show me how good you suck after you get hit."

I get back to work. "Oh fuck YES!" he cries out. "Milk me dry, slave." . . . . then finally, "Drink down my load of cum!" He cries out and fills my mouth to overflowing with his creamy sweet/salty fluid while using his hands to wipe the tears out of my eyes. "Fuck, that was awesome, slave! First time I ever got to shoot a load into a faggot's mouth."

This is fucking weird, I think, as he puts his dick away, zips up his pants, and leaves me kneeling there, wondering what the fuck is going to happen next.

, , ,

A light goes on. "Turn to your left, slave, and crawl into the elevator." A door slides open. I crawl inside. We descend one level (I think). Bumpy stop. The side door opens. "Come. All fours."

A man in a suit comes to me and slaps a leather collar around my neck and locks it in back. A leash is attached. The man starts walking. "Follow, slave. Quickly." We turn a few times and I realize he is parading me around this facility while other man are standing around watching and commenting on how I move. "Spread you legs more, slave." . . . . . "Shoulders closer to the ground. Bend the arms." . . . . "Head bend all the way down."

THWACK! A lash is laid across my ass and I jerk my head up. Quickly my face is hit. "Down with that fucking head, slave. I don't want to tell you again!" THWACK! I cry out but force my head to stay down. "Good boy." Much to my dismay I find myself soaking up the praise. Someone touches my ass, fingering the mark from where it was hit. "Notice if you will, gentlemen, how it only took two lashes of the whip to train the slave to behave the way I want it to. Always the quickest way to get results from these make-believe slaveboys. Give 'em a taste of the whip. Not just a hand spanking or paddling. No. the fucking whip! Let it know it's a fucking slave. We don't have to toy with it to turn it on. I whipped the faggot because I fucking want it to obey me."

Mumbled comments.

Wait! I AM a real slave, goddammit! "Do I need to whip you again to get you to let go of that resentment, slave?" I inhale and exhale and force the muscles in my neck and shoulders to relax.

Someone yanks my chain and tries to lift my collar. "Up, slave. Don't make me pull you."

I'm able to kneel up okay, but when I raise a knee I almost fall to the side. Someone slaps the side of my chest to keep me upright. "Up on that one foot, slave." It's a struggle but my assailants help me with well-placed hard slaps and finally I'm there on two feet and two tears roll own my face. . . . a bright flash! .. . . . someone's taking a pic . . . . "Nice pic, dude. You caught the slave's tears perfectly." . . . . . .

"Arms out to the sides level with the shoulders, slave." Two men fasten manacles on my wrists. "Spread those legs, dammit!" a crop hits my right inner thigh. I spread quickly. Craig's been training me to keep my legs spread, too. Easy access to the balls, he tells me. "Never keep them hidden from your superiors," he tells me frequently.

I'm beginning to feel like some kind of moveable doll they're toying with. "Hands in front. Take the shirt and put it on. Smooth it down."

It fits perfectly. Why am I not surprised?

"We're covering your naked flesh so we can bring you with us. Remember at all times that without us you are totally naked, slave."

I'm handed a light blue long-sleeved dress shirt. When I put it on, I realize that the cuffs were altered to make room for the manacles which will be hidden underneath. Someone buttons the cuffs.

"Arms at the side, slave." The shirt gets pulled tight and buttoned. It fits conveniently underneath the collar they put on my neck—how convenient. The collar is clearly evident. They don't feel it necessary to hide the fact that I'm a slave. I wonder how that can be if they're taking me to some fancy restaurant? Unless . . . special clientele?

And so it proceeds. A jock hides the cage. Its straps are coarse and it hurts where I was lashed. Pants with a coarse interior, socks and clean sneakers complete the ensemble. The toy has been suitably outfitted and is ready to be displayed in public.

The leash is removed and I'm ordered to walk around the area only slightly swinging my arms. "Eyes always lowered, slave."

"Hands behind your back or at your sides at all times except when taking your meal. Look into the eyes of the Master who speaks to you. Answer politely at all times. Eyes always lowered whenever in transit."

"in transit." Cute! Like I'm some kind of a parcel being delivered. Well, I guess that's what I am in their eyes, only I'm a parcel they plan on feeding.

The restaurant is dimly lit with candles on the tables. As soon as we enter, Heinrich takes me into a side room and closes the door. There is a chain in the center of the room. "Bend down. Lean with your arms on the chair. Do not remove them."

Heinrich stands in front of me and shows me heavy wooden fraternity-type paddle. "This is to remind you how to behave during dinner," he tells me. "Do not cry out."

He swats me six times and godddammmnnnnn does that ignite the two lashes I got earlier! I whimper slightly then panic that I might get punished even more.

"Stand up and follow me. Hands behind your back. Do not touch your face." Fuck. He's gonna walk me to the table with tears on my face. Double fuck! The place is pretty crowded although I notice that the diners near us grow quiet as we walk by. I keep my eyes lowered. Don't want to see them staring at me. You know something? This is worse than being naked. I'm more of a spectacle this way!

I gasp when told to take my seat. Shit it hurts. Heinrich is right: a constant reminder to behave myself. I do notice that the three Masters look awesome in their suits and ties. Here I sit in shirtsleeves, collared, tears drying on my face and my butt is killing me. I feel like I was pounded in addition to being whipped.

"Baby," Craig says to me and it is so awesome to hear his voice call me that. "I am well aware of how much pain you're in, of how the jock and the pants are irritating your flesh. They wanted to abrade your nipples as well but I asked them not to. We'll leave that pain for later. There's going to be a lot of pain tonight, Q. I know all about it and I've approved it. All of it. Be a good boy for me, faggot. Tonight the faggot gets punished and is turned into a true slave."

Those words will probably always haunt me. Right now they terrify me even as they're exciting me. I just pray that I won't disappoint my Master. I just keep thinking of all the wonderful ways he's been taking care of me even since I met him. I just keep thinking of how many times over this year I've hoped to become his slave and no one else's, no matter what that might mean. Now, I guess, I'm going to find out. I know Craig is no sadist, but he's delivering me into the hands of sadists and I have no right to object or beg him to reconsider. I know that, deep down inside. I don't even have to ask.

They have wine. I'm given water. They have a rich soup that smells wonderful. I'm given a small plate of lime jello. They talk among themselves, getting better acquainted. Austin compliments Craig for the way he's trained "the slave" to obey. As usual, he gets all the credit. I'm spoken about but never addressed personally. A staff person comes by and, holy fucking shit, wraps a big lobster bib around my neck.

"You'll be hung upside down and flogged if you get anything on that shirt," Heinrich tells me. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, slave. I thought I'd made that clear before."

I look up and go to apologize but he raises a hand to stop me. He turns from me to address his companions. I lower my eyes again and finish my jello.

Rolls and butter go around. Craig feeds me a bit from his fingers and I lick them when I take the bread with my teeth. "You may take water whenever you wish," he says to me. Isn't this perfect Craig behavior always looking out for me! I take a sip of water, wondering if they've slipped anything into it. (Note to reader: the slave is frequently given special herbs from exotic tribes to ingest, such as were in the cup to tea, but never illegal drugs.)

Before the main course is brought to the table, Austin demands my attention. "How old are you right now, slave, dressed like a school boy and not a man?"

I don't even have to think. "Thirteen, Sir."

"And you haven't grown pubes or other body hair yet, boy?"

"No, Sir. Nowhere."

"You realize that a slave like you will never be allowed to grow hair on any part of its body other than its head and eyebrows, boy? Any body hair will always be stripped from you by someone else, by some superior. Always taken from you. Always completely bare and therefore completely at the disposal of your owner and any other superiors he shares you with. Is that the case, slave? Answer in an intelligent sentence."

"Yes, Sir. Always completely bare and at the disposal of all superiors, Sir."

Heinrich joins in. "And you know this is your lot. This is what you have always been destined to live. As a cocksucking slave being trained by the lash."

"Yes, Sir, always a cocksucker, always subject to being whipped."

"Are you aware that you deserve to be whipped and punished in any ways your Masters choose, slave?"

"Yes, Sir. This slave deserves to be punished, Sir."

"Beg for it, faggot," says Craig. I note that he's the only one who calls me faggot.

"Please, Masters, please punish this slave as you see fit tonight, Sirs."

"We shall, slave. We shall," says Austin.

The food is brought to the table. Much to my surprise, I'm given a plate of broiled seafood in a light white sauce. Craig takes a piece of lemon and squeezes it over my food, then sprinkles some salt.

"You will keep your hands in your lap, slave. Your Master will feed you." Austin gives the directive. "Just like a child who can't be trusted not to make a mess of things."

It all sounds good, but one further bit of humiliation comes my way as the waiter brings me a tall vanilla milkshake.

"Heinrich addresses the waiter. "Did you cum in it, Billy? Anyone else?"

"Yes, Sir. Me, Eddie and Allen shot our loads over the ice cream before it was all blended together."

"Excellent. Please thank them for us, Billy. Let them know they will be compensated."

"Sure thing, Sir. We were happy to do it. We'll enjoy watching your slave suck up our loads."

At this point, Craig explains his whole practice of making me drink vanilla milkshakes as a symbol of sucking down cum. He's tickled that Austin and Heinrich planned to have real cum for the slave to suck down during dinner.

To tell the truth, I'm grossed out. But I dare not show it. I'm really afraid that Craig is going to break down and make me drink their piss tonight as well. Even though he said I'd only drink his. Please, no, Sir?

One of the other waiters comes by. "Hello, Allen. Thank you for making a deposit," Austin says cheerfully, then to me, "Sip some down. Let Allen see you suck down his cum."

Obviously I obey, forcing myself not to act like I'm as grossed out as I really am. A little later on, Eddie comes by as well. Same deal for him. Well at least there's some consolation: all three of these waiters are hot as hell, and only about my age as well. Nonetheless, it all just tastes like a vanilla milkshake. For the rest of my life, I'll always remember what I drank here tonight.

Craig keeps feeding me. The food is awesome. I haven't had food this good since I started college. My father used to like to take me out to eat. Of course, those days are over now, so this meal was a real treat for me. Even though I had to drink a milkshake that three studs added their own cum in the ice cream.

THAT'S THE END OF THIS CHAPTER

My name's Greg. ogt009966@gmail.com Write me any time, please?

I've lifted a few pics to represent Danny, Jeffrey, Matt, Craig, and the sub. Tell me about your reaction to the story and I'll send them to you.

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Next: Chapter 45


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