Slutty Whore New York

SLUTTY WHORE NEW YORK NEW YORK 09

by gwmsub4DOMGAM

These are mostly memoirs of things I've done in the past. Timelines are adjusted and some artistic license has been applied to make the re-telling more interesting and captivating. Some things which I include in one moment of time may have happened over weeks or months, but compressing them into one moment would have been so much fun, so I re-tell it this way.

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I truly enjoyed those months with Massa Darius. His size, his demeanor, and his attitude all commanded my attention and submission at all times and I submitted completely and without question. My entire existence was focused on his happiness and satisfaction, and I was fulfilled in achieving that. About two months after I gave up my apartment, Massa told me I should quit my job and become a true 24/7 slave. I had lost much interest in the job and so it did not take much persuading. I put in my notice and two weeks later I walked into Massa Darius' condo, naked from the elevator without an apartment or job. I was about to put my clothes into the trunk when Massa appeared and ordered me to gather up all of my clothes into a garbage bag. He took the bag away in the elevator and returned a few minutes later without it. I was now his, completely. I was naked, with no apartment, literally no clothes, in the middle of Brooklyn. I did have a bank account with my salary which had been accumulating for months, but Massa had my bank cards -- so while I had money, I really didn't have access to it other than through Massa. I was truly and owned slave property with nothing of my own.

I stayed at home when Massa went to work, and I completed chores and did research he set for me on his laptop to help with his own course work. I got to know Javier, the building manager quite well. He was gay and knew of Massa Darius' tastes. He would personally deliver packages and enjoyed touching and feeling me. He never tried to have sex with me, nor asked me for any sexual favors. He just seemed to enjoy seeing me naked, and chained, and subservient.

It was, I thought, a pretty perfect existence. I had feared that I would get bored, or I would crave others company and friendship. I thought I would get cabin fever being stuck at home all day. I was wrong. I actually enjoyed my solitude during the day to get on with the tasks Massa had charged me with. I looked forward so eagerly to my god returning home each evening, and I reveled in preparing his meals and watching him enjoying them with satisfaction. I never grew tired of Massa manhandling me roughly, fucking me vigorously almost every day, and drinking his piss every morning. I craved it, and missed it when Massa was busy or exhausted and didn't demand those things of me.

It never occurred to me that this would not be my life for the rest of my time on this earth. I was certain I had found my niche. My purpose in life. I had found my god and I was happily worshiping at his alter every day. Sadly, this was not to be the case as I really should have anticipated.

As we headed through Summer and into Autumn, I remained naked, chained, and fully under Massa Darius' control within his condo, and I was absolutely content with that situation. He headed off to school four days a week and had study groups or went out with friends to socialize, while I remained behind, cleaning, taking care of chores, and satisfying his every need, desire, and craving. I kept in email contact with my family and a few friends in the U.K. but otherwise I lost contact with my U.S. friends and my work colleagues, though I did occasionally get an email from Master Eugene to check in with me.

Massa Darius always had one or two dinner parties each month, where six to twelve of his friends would come over. Massa normally catered the food, so I would greet the delivery of the food at the elevator, naked in my chains as always. Some delivery folks from newer places Massa had not used before were a little unsure and even put off initially, but Massa apparently paid them a very generous tip and ordered equally generous amounts of food, so whenever they returned for a second event, they were always much more amenable and even friendly. I would prepare everything to Massa's instructions in preparation of his return home and he would inspect every detail prior to his guests arriving.

Massa rarely found anything amiss, but did on occasion decide to make some changes. I paid great attention to his desires, likes, and most importantly his dislikes. Massa recognized this ability in me and trusted me more and more with these tasks which fulfilled me and made me happy well beyond what should have been normal, lol. I craved his approval, and his attention.

The dinner parties normally included mostly his fellow "reparations" friends. Some would come with their own White slaves, but most normally came on their own to enjoy the excellent food, alcohol, and a selection of drugs that Massa Darius always had available. I, of course, was also available and I was always gang-fucked, tortured, and humiliated by his friends into the small hours of the morning, before the food, alcohol, drugs, and exhaustion took over. Once everyone was essentially asleep, I would then spend hours packing and refrigerating any left-overs, and cleaning up the condo. Most of Massa's friends would just sleep where they collapsed. Some on the couch, some in chairs, some in Massa's guest bedroom, some on the floor. I would have to walk as quietly as possible around them, with my chains clinking and jangling as little as possible so as not to disturb anyone.

I was then required to remain awake to tend to any needs the guests had in the morning as they awoke, including providing blow-jobs to relieve morning hard-ons, drinking their piss, some wanted to fuck me, others just wanted coffee and some breakfast. Fortunately most woke at different times, so while I was busy taking care of their needs for much of the morning, it was rare for two guests to demand different services from me at the same time. Massa would typically get up around noon following one of his dinner parties, and whenever he woke, he always summoned me to first drink his bladder full of piss, and he would then take me into the living room to aggressively face-fuck and ass fuck me in front of any guests who still remained. Massa would face-fuck me for a few minutes, before slapping me on the side of the face to tell me to turn around, so he could impale my asshole with his huge throbbing cock. He would ram himself inside me for a few minutes and then slap me hard on the ass to tell me to turn again to present my mouth for his cock. Depending on his mood as he awoke, he sometimes invited any remaining guests to join him by acting as the opposite end of the spit-roast, so I would have cock in both my mouth and ass at the same time. Other times, he wanted to simply use me on my own as his guests watched and encouraged him.

Once he was fully satiated, I would be dispatched to prepare breakfast for Massa and any guests remaining. Massa always wanted pancakes, sausage, bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, toast, and strong dark coffee so I would prepare enough for everyone and stand by the table as they ate to take care of any needs or desires. Most remaining guests would normally leave by three or four the next afternoon and Massa would take an afternoon nap which would allow me time to sleep also, the first I would get in over twenty-four hours most of the time. With that said, I enjoyed those dinner parties as much as Massa and his guests clearly did.

I really liked, and enjoyed serving, a specific few of Massa's "reparation" friends, and on occasion new guests I'd never seen before would be included in the dinner parties. There were also, of course, a few I really didn't enjoy serving, mostly because they would somewhat scare me. One such occasional guest would wait until everyone was asleep and I was moving about as quietly as possible to clear up when he would suddenly put a knife to my throat and force me out onto the balcony of the condo. My hands were always free to help clear up, but he would secure my wrists behind my back with whatever he could find. He would then run the knife blade all over me, with varying degrees of pressure, constantly talking about slicing me or cutting off my balls. He would use the very tip of the knife to scratch my flesh leaving long red trails which really seemed to excite him and terrified me. With one hand constantly on the knife, his other would pull my hair, slap my face, twist and squeeze my balls, anything he could do to get me to scream out. On the balcony, early in the morning, the last thing Massa wanted was for me to make noise and disturb his neighbors, so I would try to take the torture without screaming, but he always seemed to want and need that to get himself off. If I screamed to try to circumvent the torture and make it stop sooner, he seemed to know instinctively that I was playing him, and he'd get even meaner. He only seemed to get off on torturing me, as not once did he ever fuck me. He would wait for that one real scream of pain and terror from me, and would spontaneously shoot his load onto me. He'd then use the knife he had terrorized me with, to cut whatever was binding my wrists and he'd just head back in and go to sleep as though nothing had happened. Massa assured me he would never really hurt or permanently injure me, and I believe Massa, but I always hated to see him coming off the elevator for one of the dinner parties.

Initially it was quite rare for Massa to take me out of the condo to visit his friends' houses, or to attend other parties. I always felt really honored and special when Massa would tell me to get ready to go out, which meant shaving all over, cleaning myself out, and lubing my asshole up. Massa would replace the house fetters with a shiny stainless-steel party collar and fetters with my hands either shackled close to my collar in the front, or behind me in the middle of my back. For almost all of these parties, Massa would put me into the trunk of his car, naked, and would take me out at the other end, also naked, walking me barefoot to the building or house using a steel dog leash without any concern for anyone seeing me. On a very rare few occasions, Massa would slip on a pair of very small, very short, very thin, white shorts to walk me to the party, but once in the party the shorts were removed instantly.

At most of these parties, I remained with Massa the whole evening, with him either leading me around by the leash as other guests fondled me or I would kneel by his side as he petted me or ignored me completely. Many of these parties were of people I had never seen before, though once in a while another of Massa's "reparation" friends would also be in attendance. The parties were a very mixed bag of people which always intrigued me. Some were very messy with people getting really drunk and fucked up on drugs. Others were very refined affairs with people in suits and dresses, and polite conversation taking place. I always felt most out of place in those refined affairs, as everyone else was so nicely dressed, and I was stark naked in steel chains with a hard-on. Interestingly while I was fondled and my ass and cock were slapped and grabbed at the messy, causal parties a lot, it was at the refined events that Massa was most often approached with offers of money to allow one or a group of attendees to fuck me. Massa always politely declined those offers.

One very refined party however, with around two hundred attendees all dressed in expensive suits and evening gowns, and all wearing mardi-gras type masks to hide their identity, Massa brought me into a side room and put me up on a small one foot tall pedestal which had ankle cuffs attached to it. My ankles were secured, and Massa left without a word. A few moments later the doors opened. Guests of the party were allowed to fondle, stroke, slap, twist, pull, and probe me to their hearts content. There were no cameras, and these very refined and well-dressed guests had no embarrassment or uncertainty in exploring every inch of my naked flesh as I remained fixed to the pedestal for around four hours. Finally, Massa returned to release me from the pedestal and as we were leaving the party a Black male and female approached and spoke with Massa at length. As Massa and I walked out of the home to Massa's car he turned to me for the first time since arriving at the party.

"That couple just offered me ten thousand Dollars to own you for the night," he said as he tugged on my leash, pulling me a little faster over the rocky driveway towards his car.

I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't say anything. I just tried to walk a little faster, though my naked feet were not enjoying the rocks. We reached the car and Massa put me into the trunk as always, but before closing the lid he looked at me and smiled.

"You're worth ten times that, BOY."

With that, he slammed the trunk closed and we drove back to his condo. I felt a flush of huge pride and satisfaction wash over me. I smiled the whole fifty minutes or so drive back until we arrived at Massa's garage, and I was still smiling when Massa opened the trunk again.

I had noticed that Massa was using more and more drugs. In the beginning when I first began to serve him, I only saw him smoke pot on occasion. Once I signed the slave contract, I realized he also used heroin and cocaine as well as Ketamine and other stuff I didn't recognize from time to time, mostly when he was hosting dinner parties. As Autumn turned to Winter however, Massa began to use more and more regularly at home in the evenings. At first this didn't seem to be a huge problem, as he still kept his college class obligations, and he still used and appreciated me in much the same way as before, but as time passed I noticed changes in his demeanor and he started to not come back to the condo at night occasionally.

Massa allowed me to eat only when he authorized it. Oatmeal with dried mixed fruit was my breakfast every morning, but only after Massa had been fed his own breakfast and once my morning chores were completed. I was allowed only water during the day, as often as I wanted or needed. In the evenings, around nine or ten, Massa would authorize me to eat dinner, which was always brown rice with mixed vegetables and a few strips of Chicken. These Chicken and rice dinners were pre-prepared by a local diner and delivered in packages of ten. They remained in the refrigerator until Massa authorized me to eat. Oatmeal in the morning was always warm. Chicken dinner in the evening was always cold. Both were served in my dog bowl and I ate with only my mouth while kneeling on the kitchen floor. Water accompanied both meals, and other than Massa's cum, piss, and sweat, those were the only fluids I drank.

This typically was not a huge problem, but as Massa began to stay out for longer and longer periods of time, I sometimes found myself not eating for two or three days at a time until he returned and told me to eat. I could drink water at least, so it wasn't life threatening or anything, but often on his return he'd be very irritable and not his normal self. I could potentially have eaten without Massa's authorization, but, honestly I never even contemplated this, despite being very hungry at times. I also knew that Massa had a count of how many packets of oatmeal and Chicken dinners were in the house, so he would know if I ate without permission. These day long absences also meant that I would wait in the reception area outside of the elevator until his return, as I was expected to be there when he returned each time. I did use the restroom, and did some basic daily chores, but otherwise I basically just stayed like a dog, waiting for my Massa to return.

I didn't really have much experience around people using drugs, so I wasn't really certain what was happening, but Javier at one point confided in me that he though Massa may be using drugs a little too much. He had found Massa once or twice recently "out of it" sitting in his car in the garage and had to help him to the elevators. There was nothing I could do. I was Massa's property, his slave. My purpose was only to serve him, and other than him not telling me when he'd be gone for a few days, and me feeling abandoned and pining for his return, it didn't seem like a huge deal to me at the time.

Massa decided to host a big Christmas dinner party, and naturally I was responsible for welcoming the ten or so deliveries of food, alcohol, and decorations etc. over three days or so. At one point there were twelve delivery people in Massa's condo all at the same time, with me naked and in chains, and Javier from the front desk helping to coordinate the delivery people and the paperwork. It took three days to prepare the condo to Massa's liking for the party that would take place on Friday evening. Late on the Thursday evening before the party, Javier called up to say some "guests" had a delivery to make for Massa Darius. Massa Darius was not home again, and it seemed like an odd hour for guest to visit when Massa was not home, but I agreed to have the guests come up. Javier had seemed concerned on the phone, just by the tone of his voice, but I could not really tell why. When the guests arrived, I quickly realized why.

The elevator opened and the five gang looking guys swaggered confidently into the small reception area, I must have had a look of confusion and fear on my face. They were Black, dressed in baggy street clothes with face tattoos and gold chains, ballcaps turned sideways, and a very palpable attitude, they exuded intimidation. The first two off the elevator immediately grabbed me by my arms and my hair and sneered at me as the others got off the elevator.

"Da fuck," one of my captors holding my arms sneered. "W'ere you clothes at, BITCH?"

"Fuckin disgustin faggot," the other sneered in my other ear at the same time.

The guy who was clearly in charge also swaggered off the elevator as though he was the owner of the condo. He ignored me completely and just looked around, taking in the surroundings. Finally, his eyes returned to me, and I immediately looked down at the ground, not wanting to maintain eye contact with him. Just his gaze intimidated me, and the immediacy with which they took charge of the condo and me had me frozen in place, and strangely embarrassed by my weakness, my nudity, and the chains I wore. I was sure they were going to rob the place, and I was probably going to end up beaten or worse. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he dragged me behind him, down the stairs and along the corridor past the guest bedroom and into the living room area, not saying a word as he pulled me. I was tempted resist, but at the same time, there were five of them and only one of me. They were dressed and I was naked. And as he dragged me I saw a gun in the waistband of one of the other gang members who had initially grabbed me as he ran straight to the bar in the living room. I presumed they were all armed. Resistance was not really an option.

"Fuckin hell,"

"NIIICE,"

"Check `dis out,"

The other four guys were wandering all over the condo, but the clear leader pulled me impassively to the couch, turned and sat down, pulling me down to my knees in front of him. I kept my eyes locked on the ground below me, but despite being terrified, my fucking cock was rock hard and despite the threat around me, my attention suddenly focused on it and I wondered why this turned me on so much.

A large white Nike high top sneaker lifting off the floor and slamming into my chest, almost throwing me completely off balance, re-focused my attention on the gang leader sitting on Massa's couch in front of me.

"Lick," the gang leader said.

I glanced up at him and quickly looked back at the sneaker. His face betrayed no emotion. It was a tough, mean looking face with a scar above his right eyebrow and another on his chin. He had tattoos on his neck and multiple gold loop earrings in both ears. His eyes seemed as black as coal and they stared at me as I glanced at him, seeming to bore straight through me. I quickly stuck my tongue out and began to lick the top and sides of the sneaker in front of me.

The other four guys were making comments about me being a faggot, and disgusting as I licked the sneaker with fervor, but the sneaker remained in front of me as I moved from the sides to the sole of the shoe. The other four were beginning to discuss fucking me up when the sneaker was pulled away from me and placed on the floor between my legs. I watched it intently, fearing it was about to begin the assault that would leave me a bloody pulp or perhaps dead as the other four egged on their boss to beat the shit out of me. I found myself shaking uncontrollably and that encouraged the other four even more as they moved closer to surround me.

I noticed a movement ahead of me, and glanced up to see the boss pull a very shiny silver automatic handgun from the waistband of his jeans. He turned the gun towards me between his legs with the muzzle pointing right at me.

"Suck it," he commanded in a very normal tone.

"OOHHHH, fuck yeah," I heard the other four saying in excitement as they bounced around the room, drinking from bottles of Vodka and Rye Whisky they took from Massa's bar that were intended for the party.

My lips trembling as I was absolutely certain this would be the last thing I would ever do, I leaned forward, opened my mouth and stuck my tongue, tasting the gun oil on the side of the weapon as I reached forward further to allow the barrel to slide into my mouth. I closed my lips around the weapon, with my eyes shit tight, waiting for the boom and the darkness to follow. I felt a hand grab the back of my neck and the handgun was forced deeper into my mouth, to the back of my throat. I gagged and tried impulsively to pull away, but the hand held me firm and the handgun pumped in and out of my throat about a dozen times before being pulled out.

I'm still alive.

I opened my eyes and glanced again at the boss. He still sat staring at me completely impassively, with no discernable expression on his face. Totally intimidated I looked down at the floor again.

"You wanna BJ?" the boss asked the other four.

"Hell NO,"

"Shit, NA,"

All four replied in unison and varying degrees of apparent disgust.

"It's just a fukin warm hole," the boss chastised them.

Fumbling with his jeans the boss opened them before pulling out his cock which I noticed was already semi-hard and was wet with pre-cum. It was about six inches and really thick, but it was also uncut. I could see the large head hidden inside the foreskin and the tip of his cock just poking out the top with pre-cum sitting in a little puddle between the foreskin and his cock.

Reaching forward with his left hand, while keeping hold of the handgun in his right hand, the boss pulled me forward and onto his cock. My tongue instinctively ran around the tip of his cock, tasting and lapping away the salty and liquid pre-cum and running under the foreskin to circle his whole mushroom cock-head.

He let out a groan of pleasure as I did this, but then applied more pressure to the back of my head, and I relaxed to allow his cock head to slide back and invade my throat. I found my nose buried in his pubic hair while my chin was being scratched by the zipper on his jeans. He held me down on his cock for about ten seconds before releasing the pressure and allowing me to lift off his cock to take a breath. I put both hands on the couch between his legs and started to give him a blow job, pushing his cock all the way into my throat until my nose hit his pubes, and drawing back out far enough to run my tongue around his cock head and lick his piss slit. His cock got larger and harder pretty quickly, but it was not as large as Massa Darius so it was not a problem for me.

The other four guys started making remarks about how gay this was and how disgusting it was to them, but the boss seemed to ignore them completely, lost in the pleasure of the blow job I was giving him. He allowed me to fuck his cock at my own rhythm for quite a while before I noticed his breathing change and both his hands grabbed the back of my head. I had my eyes closed the whole time as I felt it was better to just concentrate on doing a good job of this BJ. I didn't want to see his scary eyes boring into me, or the gun on his lap, so close to me as I sucked his cock.

With both hands behind my head, he began to hump his hips off the couch and into my throat. His rhythm increased and the thrusts became more intense. He began exhaling with each thrust of his cock until suddenly and without warning I felt his cock stop at the back of my throat and his cum shoot out and hit my throat, filling my mouth up with load after load. His cock must have pulsed about a dozen time, cum shooting out with each pulse until finally he was finished. He had breathed really loudly and exhaled loudly as he came, but he hadn't said a word.

I swallowed his cum as it filled my throat and mouth, and my tongue worked around his cock shaft and the head of his cock as his thrusts slowed. He slowly pulled his cock from my mouth and for the first time, I opened my eyes, blinking repeatedly, still just fixated on his cock, scared to look him in the eyes. I had sucked a few "straight" guys off before who were really into me sucking them, until they came and straight-man remorse and disgust seemed to overtake them. Those guys typically just called me names and got away from me as quickly as possible. If this guy had remorse, the gun by his side could mean my death.

"Fuck that was GREAT," I heard the boss say, and timidly I stole a quick glance up at him.

He had his eyes closed and a broad smile on his face. Suddenly relieved and pleased with myself I lifted my head slightly just as his eyes opened and I found myself transfixed by this gang bosses eyes for some reason. Almost like a deer in headlights. I still don't know why I continued to look directly at this mean, scary, gang boss who had just essentially raped my mouth at gunpoint, but something about his dominance, his control, just captivated me in that moment. His smile also lulled me into believing that he was satisfied by my blow job and hopefully would not decide to kill me after all.

My relief was short lived as he suddenly sat forward and picked up the handgun that had slipped onto the couch beside him. Grabbing a handful of my hair he twisted my head back and sideward to face up to the ceiling, and I saw the gun appear above me again, pointing down towards me. I closed my eyes again, waiting for the inevitable. Again however, it didn't happen.

I heard laughter instead as his four gang members called me a stupid fuck, a sissy faggot, and a whore. The boss still kept a tight grip of my hair and held me firmly in place but when I dared to open my eyes again, the gun was no longer in my face.

"Any you wanna try some o' this?" the boss asked again, but all said no again.

"Dunno what you's missin," he continued. "Do much worse than this inside."

He finally released my hair and again I hunched over to look only at the floor in front of me.

"Dar's right `bout you," he continued. "Tell yo Master that Marcus was by," the boss said, kicking me in the shoulder with enough force to send my falling sideways onto the floor. I looked back at him confused.

He knows about Masssa Darius, and he knows his name. I had thought this was a robbery and these tough street thugs had chanced their luck on getting in. It didn't occur to me that they had to have used Massa's name with Javier to get in.

"Sir, Yes, Sir," I replied timidly and the other four guys broke into laughter and mimicking me.

"His package s'on the table," he added, nodding to the coffee table.

I glanced behind me and saw a small parcel, wrapped in brown paper and taped with packing tape.

"Sir, Yes, Sir," I confirmed.

"Good fuck boy," the boss said as he stood, once again grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me to my feet before dragging me back to the elevator doors.

At the elevator he pushed me down to my knees again and pulling the handgun from his waist again he told me to open my mouth. He placed the muzzle of the gun in my mouth and had one of his gang mates take a bunch of pictures.

They called the elevator and left, taking bottles of Vodka and Whiskey with them. Javier called up a few moments after they must have left the building.

"Is everything okay. Do you need anything," he asked with concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, Sir," I assured him. "Everything is fine, Sir."

I was still shaking, and still had the taste of the bosses cum, and even the taste of the gun oil still in my mouth.

"If you need anything at all, just call me. I'm on duty till six tomorrow morning," Javier told me.

"Thank you, Sir. I appreciate that, Sir."

Massa did not return home until three on Friday afternoon. Walking off the elevator he asked "Where is Marcus' package?"

"Massa, on the coffee table in the living room, Massa," I replied, kneeling before him by the side of the elevator.

Massa completely ignored me and grabbed the package taking it into the kitchen to open it. He immediately set out some lines of coke and snorted them before disappearing into this bedroom for a couple of hours. At around six Massa came out of his bedroom and inspected the house, the decorations and the food I'd laid out. Satisfied, he told me to eat before the guests arrived. I gratefully pulled a cold Chicken dinner from the refrigerator and devoured it.

The guests began arriving around nine. It was a very mixed crowd with many of Massa's "reparation" friends, but also Master Eugene, Master Scott and Stan were invited along with many others that I'd never met or seen before. The alcohol and drugs flowed freely, and the music was fun, so everyone seemed to have a great time. I too had a great time, as I was the only naked slave among some sixty or so guests. I replenished the food, re-stocked the bar with spirits and snacks, and looked after guest requests as Massa moved through the crowd, chatting casually with everyone. By around two in the morning, many of the guests had already left, and just about a dozen remained, mostly Massa's "reparation" buddies but also a couple of guys from his college. The party was winding down at this point, until Massa brought out more drugs for everyone who remained.

Massa got pretty wasted and was essentially completely out of it, lying on the couch in the living room. Two or three others were likewise passed out, but four of the remaining "reparation" friends decided to put on a demonstration for the others of how White slave boys should be treated and used. Up until that point, while I was naked and being fondled and grabbed for photographs, everyone had been respectful. This would be different.

They explained and demonstrated how to examine slave property, fingering my mouth to check my teeth, sticking fingers down my throat to check my gag reflect for face-fucking, twisting my nipples, pulling my cock and twisting and slapping my balls, and forcing me to bend over so they could stuff four fingers into my hole to massage my prostate. They encouraged the other guys to examine me, and they did with enthusiasm and more aggression than was necessary as I was not resisting at all. Within a few minutes I was bruised and in pain all over, but they were just beginning. I was bent over the couch that Massa was passed out on, and my wrists were handcuffed behind my back before they all spit-roast fucked me, one after another while also slapping my face, slapping my ass, tugging and kicking at my balls, and spitting on me. Most of them came in my ass, and in my mouth. Once they were finished with me, they dragged me out onto the balcony and closed and locked the sliding glass door, leaving me naked and barefoot in the freezing New York December morning.

I watched as most of them downed some more drugs and one by one, they all passed out, leaving me out on the balcony with my hands cuffed behind my back, and no way to get back inside the condo, and into the warmth. I crouched down against the glass wall of the balcony in the corner, trying to shield myself as much as possible from the bitterly cold wind that was blowing, and I hoped that someone would wake up soon to bring me back into the warmth of the condo. I clenched my fists, pulled my arms into my torso as hard as I could, and I squeezed myself into the smallest size possible with my face buried in my thighs to hopefully conserve heat, but I found myself shivering within a few minutes, and my muscles quickly began to complain. I tried to move around and stretch out a little every few minutes, but every movement just exposed me to the cold more.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, or perhaps partial hypothermia had begun, but the next think I remember was waking up inside the condo, lying naked on the hardwood floor of the living room with my hands still cuffed behind my back. I was shivering uncontrollably despite the warmth of the condo. It was three thirty in the morning when I looked at the wall clock in the living room. I had probably been outside in the frigid New York winter, naked, for thirty minutes. Massa was still out cold on the couch, as were a number of others around the living room.

One of Massa's college friends William suddenly appeared. He had taken part in the spit-roast fucking of me and I guess he had fallen asleep afterwards, but woke to pee and saw me freezing on the balcony. He was around five feet ten, with short black hair and light brown skin. He had a beautiful smile, and dark eyes. He was also very muscular and he was able to pick me up of the floor and support me as we walked to the master bathroom.

"Come on," he told me in a consoling tone. "We need to get you warmed up."

He walked me into the bathroom which was already full of steam from the shower running. The warmth of the steam and the smaller room was great. He opened the shower door and gently directed me under the stream of warm water, but I was so weak and exhausted that I essentially slumped against the opposite wall of the shower and sank down to my knees. Still, the warm water cascading over my back felt fabulous.

He stripped off and stepped into the shower behind me, then picked me up again, to allow the warm water to flow over my chest and abdomen.

"This will help warm you up," he said as he held me against his own naked chest.

I felt his cock against my left leg as he supported me, but it was soft and sex was the furthest thing from my mind. He kept me under that warm water for around thirty minutes, turning me around slowly to allow the water to cascade over all of me. I slowly began to feel better, and feel extremely grateful for his saving me. I began to kiss his shoulders, but he brushed it off.

"Relax man," he said gently. "Just relax."

He eventually took me out of the shower, dried me carefully with a towel as I sat on a chair, and then helped me through to Massa's bedroom and into his bed. I tried to say that I was not allowed in Massa's bed unless he specifically allowed me, but he was having none of it. As soon as my head hit the pillow, and the covers were pulled over me, I fell into a deep, deep sleep.

I didn't waken until around eleven the next morning. I felt horrible. Despite being in a warm bed, I felt shivery and cold. Just as I had about a year or so before when I had been left naked in the alley all day. I tried to get up, but just did not have the energy to, so I lay there, listening to some voices outside the living room though I couldn't make out clearly what anyone was saying. I must have dozed off to sleep again as I was next wakened by my savior at eleven-thirty. He had a deli take-away carton of soup with him.

"Sit up if you can," he said as he helped me up in the bed.

"Eat this soup. It will help warm you up," he said, handing me the Styrofoam soup container and a plastic spoon. I was so shaky that I almost spilled the soup the moment I tried to take it from him. He smiled and took it back from me, sitting on the bed next to me. He slowly fed me the soup, one spoonful at a time, without saying anything. He just watched me eat with a concerned look on his face.

About half way through the container of soup, my stomach rebelled with severe cramps and I realized I had to use the restroom immediately. He helped me to Massa's restroom and I literally exploded with diarrhea. I was so hugely embarrassed as he watched me poop my guts out in front of him, but he didn't seem phased by this at all. Once I was finished, he flushed the toilet, helped me into the shower, turned it to warm and watched me as I showered. He helped me dry off and he took me back to Massa's bed. I apologized again and again to him, but he just repeated for me to relax and not worry about it. Back in bed again, I fell asleep until six that evening.

When I woke he was still in the bedroom, sitting in a chair by the bed with his feet resting on the bed while reading a book. When I stirred, he put the book down and asked how I was feeling.

"Sir, better, Sir. Thank you, Sir," I answered.

"Good," he said as he left and returned with Massa following him.

I tried to get out of bed, but William pushed me back down.

"Stay there for now until you get your strength back," he ordered in a more commanding voice.

I looked to Massa Darius for confirmation or alternative orders and realized Massa had his arm around William's waist.

"You hear Master William," Massa replied.

"Stay there for the night."

"Want to try something to eat now?" Master William asked curiously.

"Master, No, Master," I replied quickly, just not feeling as though I could keep anything down.

Master William. How quickly I adapted to that revelation by Massa Darius. Not a moment of hesitation or doubt. Massa called him Master and immediately he was Master over me.

"Sleep," said Massa as they both left, turning off the light and closing the bedroom door. I did as commanded.

I woke around four in the morning and actually felt much, much better than the night before. I got up, showered, shaved my crotch and ass, pulled the sheets off Massa's bed and put them into the washing machine. I then made up Massa's bed with new sheets. As I walked through the living room I realized the mess from the party had been tidied up. The condo was spotlessly clean.

I found my steel collar, which Master William had removed, and put it around my neck once again, screwing the locking pin into place and snapping the padlock which locked it in place permanently. From sick invalid to naked slave property once more. I had missed the weight and feel of the collar to be honest. I like the feeling of it around my neck.

Master William rose first, coming out from the guest bedroom completely naked, muscular, and gorgeous. He had a raging morning wood and was about to head into the guest restroom across the hall when he spotted me kneeling on the floor outside the guest bedroom door, waiting for Massa to rise.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, and almost absent mindedly stroking his erect cock at the same time he smiled broadly as he saw me. He turned and rubbed the hand that was stroking his cock through my hair as you would a pet dog.

"Feeling better I see," he said as he stepped a little closer, his erect cock now only inches from my eyes as I looked up at him from my kneeling position.

"Master. Much better Master. Thank you Master," I said as I bent down and began to lick his toes.

He wiggled and moved his feet to provide me with easier access and finally after a few minutes grabbed my hair and pulled me up to a kneeling position.

"I need to piss," he said once again stroking his six inch erect cock. "You ready for that?"

"Master, Yes, Master," I replied, though to be honest I was not sure. I had not eaten anything in two days other than the soup I had puked back up, and the cum and piss and spit from the party night.

I opened my mouth and tilted my head back looking directly at him. He smiled broadly, stepped forward to place the tip of his cock on my bottom lip, and I saw him close his eyes as he sighed loudly and a solid stream of warm piss hit the top of my mouth and ran down into my throat. Keeping my mouth open I swallowed and swallowed as his piss kept on coming, and coming, and coming. He really did need to piss. Finally his steady stream broke into five or six final spurts and I closed my lips around his cock, using my tongue to lick his cock head and piss slit to clean him off. As I did this I felt his cock twitch and he began to stroke his cock. After a few minutes with my tongue playing on his piss slit and him stroking, he shot a load of cum. I felt the cum hit the back of my throat in five or six spurts. I swallowed it all and once again, my tongue played over his cock head to clean it. He kept his cock in my mouth for about five minutes until he was soft once again.

"Good boy," he complimented me and I actually flushed with embarrassment. I felt my cheeks fill with blood and the warmth of the embarrassment even in my neck and shoulders.

Master William just chuckled and went back into the guest bedroom, leaving the door ajar this time. As I kneeled outside, I saw and heard Massa and Master fucking each other with an energy and vigor that captivated me. While I saw both as dominant and aggressive tops, they submitted to each other and seemed to enjoy both fucking and being fucked by each other.

Master William stayed over the holiday break and Massa focused much of his time and attention on Master William. I became a service animal to prepare their food, clean their clothes and bedsheets, drink their piss, and to be used for their amusement and enjoyment. I did not mind this at all, as that was what my role was. A naked slave does as it is told, when it is told. It does not have expectations, hopes, dreams, a defined future. It lives from one moment to the next only focused on meeting Massa and Masters expectations and desires.

Both Massa and Master enjoyed using drugs, and each evening they seemed to be high during the holiday break. Staying up until the early hours of the morning, fucking and talking, and sleeping for much of the day. Master William ensured I was fed each day, and he enjoyed fucking me when Massa was showering or sleeping, but Massa somewhat ignored me during this time, other than giving me his piss whenever felt the urge to go.

I felt the dynamic change between Massa and myself, but there was nothing I could do. I could only trust that all would work out in the end. Massa seemed to see me now only as a work slave rather than a sex slave. I really missed Massa's sexual attention, and I definitely missed his huge cock inside me. One evening just before New Years Eve Massa and Master were running low on their drugs of choice, so they made a call and about three hours later I was dispatched to the elevator to retrieve a package of drugs from two gang members who had come to the condo before with gang boss Marcus to drop off drugs.

"Hey faggot," one said as he handed me the small package, along with an envelope.

"Sir. Thank you, Sir," I said.

"Da note's fo Dar," he continued. "Made shoo he read it."

"Sir, Yes Sir," I nodded in confirmation.

I brought the package to Massa in the living room who grabbed it from me and began cutting into it with a steak knife from dinner.

"Massa, there is also a note for you, Massa," I interrupted as I held out the note.

Massa completely ignored me, entirely focused on cutting through the packing tape to open the small cardboard box.

Master William took the note from me and read it. He laughed and passed it to Massa, using his left hand to stop Massa's efforts in opening the box.

"Read this," he said.

Massa took the note, read it, looked at Master William, looked at me, back at Master William, then smiled and laughed. He folded up the note, then got back to opening up the package. They finally got into the package, opened up some small bags of white powder, and snorted them while chugging down whiskey and cokes as they kissed each other and played with each other. I knelt to the side of the couch, waiting to respond to any of their needs or desires.

--End

I would love feedback on this story, (or to hear from you if you are a dominant, aggressive, demanding Master who likes to keep his slaves naked and collared lol ) at ALL TIMES. GWMSUB4DOMGAM@yahoo.com.

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