Mike straps my ass and my dick to teach them who owns them and whose dick owns my face. He picks up where he left off (Chapter 13) when he broke me with a blacksnake to marry him. I prove I'm man enough to take his strap and his dick. This dude didn't used to be me.
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MIKE SHOWS THE COMPANY DUDES HIS DUMBASS HARDASS SLAVE
When Mike proposed by blacksnake (broke me too -- Chapter 13) he asked what I wanted from him. First his strength, second his respect, third his love. And when he asked, I want his whip and his dick to express them. To remind me. FUUUUCK!
Dinner was breaking up -- the one where Mr Hardwicke, co-owner of Hardwicke Co and us, introduced Mike and me, the new married couple, and showed the whole Hardwicke Construction dudes that only us gladiators and our overseers get whipped, to train us. Now we have half an hour to chill before log PT.
Mike, my husband and master, asks "Stud! Got a minute?" I answer, "For you, stud, for sure." I catch his look, add "Sir!"
Mike says, keep my gladiator uniform -- Hardwicke Co dark red, heavy-duty spandex posing strap, tanga, or thong with an uplift ring from the waistband down around the balls to present the balls n dick, plus spandex butt floss (maybe an inch or so wide) to separate the cheeks and stand them up (for show and for attention like mine will get -- more skin, less fabric in back than most bikinis). So keep the uniform but pull the balls out over the waistband (and sort the uplift strap) so my dick can grow. He stands me on his left side, left arm across my traps, left hand on my left delts, my right hand on his right cheek. I feel proud. My dick grows.
Mike says, don't worry what dudes we meet might say. Smile. Look every man in the eyes and flex so when his eyes wander they stop at the flexed pecs delts traps. Whatever any dude says, Mike will answer, "Gladiators." It works except the logistics boss (Chapter 5), who smiles, says Mike will enjoy this more than me. Mike pulls me closer. My butt twinges but my dick grows.
Mike says men like us have lots to learn about loving men like us and making love with men like us. I ask if it means whips n dicks. He says, "Sure, stud. What else?"
"Sir! Muscles, Sir?"
He pulls me close, squeezes left delts. "Right, stud, especially the big one between your ears." My butt twinges but my dick grows. "Zone on me. Feel my strength in your traps, your delts, my glutes. Hear my respect." I feel, hear them. My dick grows.
"Boy," he says, "your ass and my dick need attention."
"Sir!" I answer. "You want to fuck my ass, Sir?"
Mike squeezes delts, flexes glutes. My dick grows. "Not THAT attention, boy. Your ass needs a warmup so he'll learn for later. No hot dick in no cold pussy (Chapter 11 -- bullwhipped, caned, fucked in our old barracks). Strap, boy, like that facefuck strap we learned this morning. (Chapter 13)"
"Sir! Please, Sir! My ass don't need no more attention like that just now, Sir." I want to wilt in his arms but my ass twinges, I feel more alive. My dick grows.
"Boy? Who owns that ass, boy?" The arm and hand squeeze tighter, pull me closer.
Fuck! "Sir! you, Sir!"
Rough delt squeeze. "Complete sentences, Boy!"
"Sir! You own that ass, Sir!" Dick grows.
"Right, boy. Who knows what that ass needs?"
"Sir! You know what that ass needs, Sir!" Dick grows.
"Boy, how will that ass learn who owns him, boy?"
Fuck! Fuckin ouch! Dick grows. I breathe harder. "Sir, please train him with your strap, Sir?"
He squeezes hard, pulls close. Dick grows. "Right, boy. How hard? How many, boy?"
"Sir! Hard, please, Sir! Please take me past six, past where I shoot, Sir." (Jon, the lawyer who's my trustee and another master, programmed me to shoot at six lashes, while we sat in a cold tub after we got bullwhipped, caned, and fucked together. Chapter 12.)
"Why past when you shoot, boy?"
"Sir! That hurts more, teaches better, Sir!"
Nice squeeze. Voice softens. "Right, boy." I feel grateful. Dick grows.
Mellow moment.
Mike's thinkin as we walk. He says the full-nelson fuck n flog is my favourite flogging so far (Chapter 13 -- bein held that way makes me feel safe, even held for the blacksnake), our marriage contract gives him 24 blacksnake shots per month, and I like him to hold me, feel secure, so one of our other dudes will blast the blacksnake (Chapter 15). He says he wants something intimate too, just us. Like the facefuck strap we learned this morning -- the man lays me across a table to strap my ass while I suck his dick until I get him off. But this morning we both started as the strapped facefuckees, then reversed on the boys who sucked us while we got our men off. Mike says he likes the way the target communicates to Mike's dick what happens to the target's ass. He calls it a feedback loop.
I wonder aloud, "Sir! I could communicate better when it's my turn, Sir!" (I won last night's competitive gladiator initiation. More likely, when we'd tied one event and each won two, Mike dropped the playoff hanging blacksnake tiebreaker after 11 blacksnake cuts so I could take the winning 12th. So I could carry him across our cell threshold last night, fuck first. So I wouldn't ALWAYS be the fuckboy.)
Heavy squeeze, delt squeeze. He slams me into the side of his massive chest, his hip. "Boy, who owns that dick, boy?"
Fuckin dumbass ouch! "Sir! You own that dick, Sir!" Dick must glow. Maybe shoot sparks.
"Right, boy. How's that dick gonna learn who owns him, who says who gets him, who says whose holes he goes into, boy?"
"Sir! Your strap will teach him, Sir" I'm not likin this evenin so far. But dick keeps growin.
"Right, boy. How hard, how many, boy?"
I fuckin hate this dialog but little head just keeps growin. Dick feels like he must want this. Too. "Sir! Hard, Sir! Past when I shoot, please, Sir. Before you burn the ass so nothin shoots, so all them muscles learn, Sir!"
"Good boy! Make us proud, boy!"
"Sir! Thank you, Sir!" Sore dick, sore ass stand proud already. We pass more dudes. They look, grin. I feel even weirder. Dick grows even prouder.
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MY BATTERED BALLS & DICK PROVE MY DUMBASS HARDASS MANHOOD
Mike flexes our number chips into the classroom. Turns on one light, over the leader's table he stands me by.
He says, hold out your hands palms up. He swings the strap easy, so it almost falls onto my hands. He says hold it, explore it. It's a couple inches wide, maybe 2 1/2", a couple feet long including the handle. Round corners. Solid leather almost 1/4", two layers, one with half-inch holes.
"Up, boy. Back bridge. (Arms overhead.) Make us proud, boy!" Strap to balls n dick. At least the back bridge feels good. "Count em, boy!"
Flex back, butt, balls, n dick. Feel proud, show proud for my husband and master. Especially when number one slams, damn near sopranoes me. "SIR! ONE! SIR!"
"Good warrior slave. Show your master your manhood." Strap rests on the dick n balls. They like it! His nonstrap hand slides over my traps, pecs, twists a tit. Squeezes a glute. Pinches it. Damn! Never felt studlier. I hope strong slave but okay if just dumb slave (Chapter 9). And proud. Proud of the stud master who proves me. Proud of the ways he presents. Proud of me the way I present for the stud master.
I zone, don't see it coming. Fuck! My master's strap masters my dick, balls. Again. When I can talk, "Sir! Two, Sir!"
"Three, Sir! That all you got, Sir?"
It fuckin wasn't all. And it didn't count. I forgot the first "Sir!" Next blast.
"Sir! Three, Sir! That all you got, Sir?"
"Sir! Four, Sir! That all you got, Sir?"
"Sir! Five, Sir! Gettin there, Sir! Please make us proud, Sir!"
Fuuuck! That one shakes my shoulders, elbows. "Sir! Six, Sir. Wanna drop ..." Uh-oh. Respect. "Would you like to show more strength, Sir?"
"Good stud! Show us how many. Get back up when I drop you the first time, boy."
"Sir! Seven, Sir!" Numb balls plus endorphins. Past the programmed six.
I sorta see, feel, hear Number EIGHT. My overhead back bridge crashes with "Sir! Eight, Sir!" I can't shoot, don't frag (frag means fire every muscle, full-body climax even if no shoot).
"Crash one, Boy!" Mike grabs me. Helps me to stand. Pulls me up to a hug. Shakes me a little. Says circle my arms and shoulders. Helps me back onto the table, into the bridge. Works the shoulders, delts, tris. Glutes too. Holds dick, holds balls, more rolls, then squeezes them in his hand. Kisses me. "Up, stud warrior slave." Bridge again. Almost feels good. Boss runs his hands over neck, traps, delts, pecs, triceps, biceps, abs, hips, abused dick, blasted balls. Squeezes glutes underneath. Smiles. Grins. My damn dick grows. Says, "Close your eyes. Keep em closed. Tight. Go into your balls n dick. Zone."
Balls dick crotch hole butt all fuckin burn! Hot lube!
FUCK! "One, Sir!" Didn't count -- forgot the first "Sir!"
Strap turns my convex pecs concave. Tits too damaged to report in, "Sir! Thank you for your strength, Sir"
I start to shake all over. Boss man says, "Don't frag yet." Pecs tits burn with hot lube too but his nonstrap hand workin my traps delts pecs feels awesome.
Back into it. Eyes closed. "Sir! One, Sir! Please help me show you my manhood, Sir -- my strength, my respect, my love, Sir!"
"Sir! Two, Sir! More strength, please, Sir!"
"Sir! Three, Sir! More respect, please, Sir!"
The hits just kept on comin. I counted but forget how many. I saw, like, fireworks, eyes still closed. I fragged. Even shot somehow.
Mike says "That's my warrior slave! Relax, stud. Eyes closed. Drop easy onto your back so your hands can hold the studliest balls and dick ever!"
"Let me kiss yours and make them well." He licks up my spunk. He puts one hand onto a pec. The other hand takes the burned balls, hotter lube, rolls em easy. His mouth wraps what's left of the battered dick. Wow! He's fuckin GOOD. Way better than my 18-year-old indentured punk Luke ever was. Or maybe my dick that got abused like never before just responds like never before.
This is when I know I want more than anything else ever to show my stud master and stud husband that I'm man enough to take his stud strap and his stud dick.
"Sir! WOW, Sir! Thank you, Sir! May I shoot, Sir?"
"Shoot away, stud," Mike sounds kinda proud, kinda breathless while he rubs, works everything that hurts. "As you said, that will make the next event, butt-blasting to teach your ass who owns him, teach more effectively."
I didn't notice the sperm-catcher he'd slipped over the abused, aroused dick.
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HARDENING MY MASTER'S HARDASS SLAVE'S HARD ASS
Fuckin forgot. "Eyes open, boy. Let's stand you up for a big hug as high around my chest as you can reach. (I'm 6' 190 lb; he's 6'3" 235 lb. We have arms and legs the same length, so his trunk's 3" longer, 45 pounds or 25% more massive.) Shoulders now. Work my traps. Work my delts. Work down to the lats behind. Rest your head on my shoulder for a minute. (I do. Where his neck angles into the traps. It feels, I feel even more secure than his full-nelson fuck.) Now hands on shoulders. Feel the delts and traps. Feel the strength."
"Eyes into my eyes. Feel the love."
"Put your hands on my massive sculpted pecs. See em. Want them. Like yours want to look when they grow up. Want these studly pecs. Work em. Hard. Work the tits harder. Get their attention. Feel the strength. Eyes back into mine. See the love."
"Hear my voice. Feel the respect."
"Look into my eyes. See the love. Work your master's pecs. Hard. Like you want me to work a stud like you."
"Now work your eyes down my abs. Work them. Now hands back on my pecs, on my tots but run your eyes down the fur trail you buzzed (yesterday, Chapter 12) to the dick who shows how much he wants you. Study the dick. Want him. Feel your master's dick down your warrior slave throat. Zone."
It fuckin works. "Tell me about warrior slave, boy."
I am this man's warrior slave. "Sir! A slave has a job. He maybe works for his master, maybe works for his crew or his family, maybe works to show, to compete, maybe slacks, sometimes all those at different times. A warrior fights for his crew, the studs who'll get him through this event to the next one, competes, shows too. A warrior slave fights and works and competes and shows for his master because he wants to please his master. This warrior slave wants to please you, Sir. He wants to prove he's man enough to take all your strap, Sir, and all your dick because he wants to please you. Sir."
"Good boy. Show me my warrior slave. Bend across this towel to train your slave ass who owns him. Here's when you start to earn my dick. Keep your own growing. Hands back on the table. Eyes stay on my dick. Zone on my dick. Zone on my voice."
He bends me across the table, on a doubled towel. "Count, boy, and tell me what you need."
"Sir, I want to prove I'm the man to take all your strap and all your dick, Sir. Would you like to hotlube my tongue and throat for a warmup, Sir, or just hotlube your masterly dick when I finally get him, Sir?"
"Good boy. Close your eyes. Present your tongue. Breathe through your nose. Gag and your dick will pay."
It's probably just two fingers but it feels like two hands. I zone on my trashed balls n dick. It must work. My lips, mouth, and throat burn like my worst ever African pepper stew. When I can kinda talk, "Sir! Thank you, Sir! May me n my ass have your strap now, Sir?"
Fuckin BANG! "Boy, who wants what, boy? That one and THIS ONE don't count. Talk like a man who deserves his master's dick. Show your master you're man enough to swallow your master's dick. "
Mike my master has his finance MBA, even if it's Middle Tennessee State, and he investment banked with Ivy Leaguers, so he don't like me talkin redneck.
"Sir! May I and the ass you own get your strap, Sir?"
"ONE, SIR! Thank you for the opportunity to demonstrate my manhood, Sir! Harder, heavier, please, Sir, "
Eyes back to my master's masterly dick. I ain't never wanted no dick before. "That one don't count, boy. You forgot the 'Sir', boy. Put that ass up, boy, and don't let him flex."
Count or not don't matter, because this goes past where I'm programmed to shoot at six.
"SIR! ONE, SIR! More impact, please, Sir, to show how this hardass warrior slave is man enough for his master's massive dick, Sir!"
"SIR, TWO, SIR! Would you like to try the other side of the strap, Sir?" I'm so fucked here. Good thing I'm endorphin buzzed.
"SIR! THREE, SIR! Would you like to land the strap handle-end first so the length can whip, Sir, rather than square, Sir?"
"SIR! FOUR, SIR! Would you like to land pairs to show me how the holes affect the, uh, sensation, Sir?" That might get me past six without shooting.
"FIVE, SIR! SIX, SIR! SEVEN, SIR! EIGHT, SIR!' Which were holes, and which were solids, Sir?"
"Good boy. You're learning how to interest your master. One and three went hole side down, so two and four were solid down. Let's try some singles. Don't count. Grow your dick. Tell me holes or solid. Wrong answer gets five fast and hard -- right, wrong, right, wrong, right. And clench or flex your ass and it doesn't count. Which, boy?"
FUCKIN JUDGMENT DAY! "SIR! HOLES, SIR!"
"Thank you, boy. You flexed, boy, and that was solids. Zone on my dick. Zone on how and why and where you want him. Play again! Don't count. We'll make up your two sets of five another time, when I don't need to have your sorry sore slave ass playing log p-t. THIS! PAIR!"
"SIR! Holes then solids, Sir!
'Good boy or good guess. Which, uh, makes the better impression, boy?"
Fuck! Way too weird, but I want to impress my master that I'm man enough to swallow his mansize dick while he destroys my ass, but maybe if I'm very very good he'll fuck it after my face. "Sir! Hole side when you land the handle end first, Sir!"
"Good boy! I'll alternate those with solid side square on, maybe some on edge too. You're overdue to shoot. Zone on my dick and your ass, boy. Don't count unless it helps you focus. Ready, boy?"
"Sir! A warrior slave is always ready for his master, Sir!" Ready for his master's whip. Ready for his dick. My endorphin buzz keeps gettin reinforced -- good if you keep gettin it challenged, but sometimes I hope not to.
I fuckin wish I was ready. I'll never be ready for this. ONE SUPER SOLID PAIR. I fight to stay chest down, ass up. "SIR! THANK YOU, SIR! Please don't stop, Sir!" FUCK!
I watch him frag, watch his dick shoot. The dick I want to earn. FUCK! I follow when he cups one hand on my left glute, squeezes, swats. It burns, it hurts, it makes me feel damn studly. I'm proud this stud Recon Marine that never wanted no dick never has earned his stud husband's stud strap AND stud dick.
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THE FACEFUCK STRAP I PROVED I'M MAN ENOUGH TO TAKE MY MASTER'S STRAP AND DICK
Mike walks around to my side of the table. He swats, works my sore sorry slave glutes, says they'll get his stud dick tonight when we celebrate our marriage. He cups a hand under a glute, wraps his other arm around pecs, tits that burn under his touch, harden my dick. He stands me up, Pulls me into a hug with my glutes in their master's hands. His chest rubs mine. Our dicks too. He bends his mouth down towards mine while mine reaches up to his. It feels kewl to kiss. We grind our mouths and dicks together. Damn near everything wants to frag, to fire all the nerves, all the muscles, to shoot again. Mike says to wait, save it for him. "Sir! Yes, Sir!" Damn dick grows. I watch his grow too.
Mike walks me back to the edge of the table on my side. Rubs, squeezes my pecs delts shoulders traps. Bites a tit. Squeezes a glute.
"Down, boy. Ask for what you want."
The rough towel fires everything it touches. "Sir! Would you like give your warrior slave's throat all your dick and his ass all your strap, Sir?"
I have my neck turned towards his dick, right in front of my eyes, so it fills my field of vision. He says, open my mouth and close my eyes till he says to open. Breathe deep through my nose. In, hold, out, hold. Grab the edge of the table tight. Keep ass down and face open.
The strap opens my mouth real wide but the dick means I can't scream, not even swear. The strap thrusts me onto the dick. Again. Again. Again. No time to panic like everything wants to.
ZONE. ON DICK. NOT burning strapped ass that thrusts me onto the dick when Mike leans in to strap.
I zone so tight on the image of his dick and on breathing through my nose around it that I ALMOST relax my burning warrior slave ass, almost relax the legs and hips that hold my chest on the table, almost relax the neck and jaw.
The strap drives me forward to meet his dick driving down my throat. Zone on my pride at pleasing my master's dick. Eyes still closed. Reach for his glutes but get only as far as his driving hamstrings. I'm buzzed AND proud. He shoots down my throat. This time I feel the semen collector on my dick.
Mike says, "Frag!" I do, he does, he collapses onto my back, letting his dick slide out.
SO WHAT AM I?
When our frags settle, he stands up, walks to my side of the table, stands me up for a big hug, dicks to dicks. He reaches down, removes my sperm collector, lays it in my hand, First one I've seen. I still can't talk.
He eases the hug. "Know why you wear that sperm collector, stud? Because you're a moneyspinning stud and folks want to buy your sperm, like a stud stallion. When I play with you, you'll wear one. Same as I'll wear one when you play with me, fuck me."
"Trust me. It's way easier than the milking parlour the gladiator stable used to send me to. That's another story."
"You have some questions. Does this make you a cocksucker? No, it doesn't make you a cocksucker, even if you deepthroat a dude because I tell you to, even if he pays. It proves you're a warrior slave. How do you feel when I call you "Boy"?"
Fuck! "Sir! I'm proud to be man enough to be my stud master's boy, Sir!"
He squeezes a pec, swats it, swats a glute. "That's my warrior slave. Stand up! Flex! Show me your proud warrior dick!"
It takes work to stand, to flex. His hands on me help. "Quick cold shower, together, before log p-t. Don't talk, just zone, remember."
He showers me under the cold water, says not to try to rub him. Zone on my skin, my muscle, cold water on hot glutes. He towels me, especially the abused, aroused balls and butt, towels himself.
Clean gladiator straps, this time balls and dick in. Hope I wake up, stand up for log p-t. The strap rubbin my abused balls n dick, the burned glutes when I walk -- they help stand me n dick both up. Mike puts me on his left side again, left arm across my traps, hand workin my left delts. My right hand works his studly glutes.
Along the way, he reminds me that he'll have other men or boys, master them too, the same way I have other masters and I'll master men or boys, but they won't be me, my husband's warrior slave. I hardly remember pulling socks and my boots on, walking to log p-t. "But I'm the master you've always wanted. The man who believes in you the way you believe in him." Fuck! How'd he know?
Men we pass, our dudes when we arrive, smile, whistle, rub n swat my glutes. I stand taller.