This story is a work of fiction. It is a gay authoritarian fantasy, no part of which is based on real life. Any resemblance therefore to anyone living or dead is purely accidental. This story depicts male on male sexual practices, if you are offended by this then stop reading now.
All characters depicted in this story are willing participants in all the scenes they appear in. No one was coerced or paid to appear in this story.
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SOUTHERN CROSS STATION
CHAPTER 4
MONDAY
By Bastian Ward
At five o'clock Sir woke Eric, to get ready for work, by throwing a cold bucket of water over him. When Eric stood up, and before Sir unlocked the chain from around the clothesline, Sir grabbed hold of Eric's cock and held it while Eric had his morning piss. Sir shook the drops from off the end of Eric's cock after Eric had finished. Sir then held up his hand for Eric to lick clean. Sir unlocked the padlock that was tethering Eric to the clothesline, and Eric ran inside. He found his breakfast, Weet Bix and toast soaking in Sir's night piss, waiting for him in his bowl, Sir must have got it ready for him just before he came and woke him up as it was still warm. When Eric finished eating, Sir gave Eric the key, and Eric undid the padlock and removed the chain and collar. He took his bowl into the laundry and washed it. Eric then headed downstairs to go to the toilet, and back out to the backyard and had a shower under the hose that he'd rigged up, just for that purpose. When he came back inside, he found that Sir had put his collar and padlock on top of his clothes. So, he put the collar back on and locked it into place; he then continued to get dressed. When he picked up his jockstrap, which was so crusty and stained from all the pre-cum he'd leaked over the weekend. As well as all the drops of piss it'd collected from his cock that it was now almost as stiff as a board, and not a little bit stained. When Eric put it on it didn't mould itself to his cock and balls the way he liked it too, so he kneaded it with his hand and watched a lot of the dried pre-cum flake off. It also released the aroma of his pre-cum, which wasn't an unpleasant aroma, in fact, Eric thought that he quite liked it, if it wasn't mixed with the smell of old dried piss. Or did he, in fact like that smell as well? When the jock was as soft as he thought he'd ever get it, Eric put it back on, and looking at his hand he saw it was covered in the flakes of pre-cum. Instead of brushing the flakes off his hand, he licked it clean instead. Eric then dropped onto all fours and licked the flakes up off the floor. When Eric thought the floor was clean enough, he pulled on his skimpy shorts, with the splits up the sides. After he'd adjusted his cock and balls in his jockstrap, as usual, they fell below the hem line of his shorts, just the way he liked it. He grabbed his skin-tight t-shirt and wrestled it on. When he was finally dressed, he grabbed his bag of tools and headed out the front door. But Eric no longer felt as comfortable in his chosen attire as he used to, and it now began to bother him a bit.
Sir was waiting for him by the front door, and as he walked past, Sir slapped his arse as hard as he could, in fact, it was so hard that Eric let out a little yelp of pain. Eric didn't think any more of it until he was on the train and heard someone snickering behind him; it was then that he realised that Sir must have left his hand print on his arse. Consequently, as he walked through Southern Cross Station, he got a lot of snickers from people walking behind him; as well as a few cat calls and wolf whistles. All of which was having an involuntary effect on his cock and Eric could feel pre-cum again rolling down his urethra and being soaked up by his jockstrap.
Eric had never been so relieved to get to work in his life. He stowed his gear in the locker room and headed out to see what he had to do today. He found the foreman and asked him where he was working today. The foreman looked up from his worksheet and took one look at Eric and said, `What the fuck..." It took a minute for Eric to work out what he was on about, then looking appropriately sheepish Eric told the foreman that he had a new girlfriend and he woke up with it on this morning. The foreman offered to cut the padlock off for him, but Eric baulked at the idea, telling the foreman that she was a little possessive and insecure. Eric told him that he didn't think it would interfere with his ability to work or anything and that he'd be really careful that he didn't get it caught on anything. The foreman still wasn't sold on the idea; he was really concerned about the O.H.&S. issues if he did get it snagged on anything. Eric looked around wildly for some kind of solution as he knew Sir would not be happy if he came home with another padlock on his collar because then Sir would know that he'd removed it. It wouldn't matter the reasons.
Just then Eric spied some offcuts of electrical wire lying on the ground, "What if we wire the collar up tighter, so it sits snug against my skin. Would that do?" He asked hopefully.
The foreman thought it might. So, Eric picked up a few lengths of wire and asked the foreman if he'd help him make his collar more secure. Which the foreman reluctantly agreed to do, but he said it was only for expediency's sake. So, the foreman selected one of the lengths of wire that Eric was holding and stepped in really close to Eric, who lifted his head up so that the foreman could have unfettered access to his collar. The problem for Eric was he had a bit of a crush on this particular foreman. True the man was shorter than Eric, I mean, let's face it, most people were shorter than Eric. But the man was built, Eric thought he must hit the gym most nights after work, as he had great definition. But, it was the bulge in the foreman's jeans that Eric was really interested in exploring, and with the foreman standing this close, their crotches were almost touching, and Eric could smell the foreman's manly muskiness over the scent of his deodorant. And Eric felt a familiar stirring in his cock as it began to strain against the fabric of his jockstrap, but before the foreman seemed to notice anything, he'd finished wiring up Eric's collar so that it sat flush against his skin.
The foreman looked up at Eric with his eyes full of concern and asked him if it was too tight. Eric had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could reply that he thought it would be Ok like that. The foreman told Eric what he wanted him to do this morning and as Eric turned to go the foreman slapped Eric playfully on the arse, which made Eric jump. He headed off with the sound of the foreman's laughter in his ears, and his cock trying to slap between his thighs.
Now, Eric wasn't too sure if someone had spotted the foreman slapping his arse, or if it was because of the collar. All Eric knew that by the end of the day almost everyone, Eric walked past, had slapped his arse. The first couple of slaps had Eric spinning `round to tell them to the culprits to quit it and leave his arse alone. But, every time Eric turned around, all he saw was everyone working studiously at whatever they were supposed to be doing, and no one made any kind of eye contact with him. So, he growled at all and sundry to quit it and got on with his work.
At lunch, Eric went to the closest ATM, as usual, to get some money so he could buy his lunch, as Sir hadn't seen fit to provide him with any. But, when he tried to withdraw money from his, um, that'd be Sir's account, now, Eric discovered that it only had eighty dollars in it. Eric wondered if it was a daily or weekly allowance, and as he had used the closest ATM he had to pay two dollars and fifty cents to access his money, so now he actually only had seventy-seven dollars and fifty cents in Sir's account. So, Eric wisely took the seventy dollars and left the rest, and set his budget at ten dollars a day, wondering if he had to get his train ticket out of that money as well. A wave of despondency washed over Eric, as he wondered yet again just what he'd got himself into.
Eric knew he wasn't starving, he ate well at home, except all his meals were now served swimming in Sir's piss. So, Eric didn't go to his usual takeaway shop with the rest of the guys. Instead, he ducked into the place around the corner and had a medium sized meal, instead of his usual extra-large meal with all the trimmings. Eric took his meal back to the building site, and found a place in the sun to sit and eat, away from the other guys. While he was eating, Eric decided he wasn't liking his meal very much, but as he only had limited funds now, he manfully finished his meal. It wasn't until he held the container up to his lips to drain the remains from the container, that Eric realised what it was he was missing, it was the taste of his Master's piss. The realisation of which drew Eric up short, and he wondered how low he'd actually come. Eric put his rubbish in the bin and got back to work, and his co-workers got back to slapping his arse with increasing force. So much so that Eric's arse was quite red
Finally, Eric's shift was over, and, with a feeling of relief, he headed home. As was his routine now, Eric stripped on the front porch. Having to peel his jockstrap off his cock and balls as all the pre-cum, he'd leaked during the day, had stuck them all together as it had dried. Eric folded all of Sir's clothes, neatly, and placed them beside the front door. Then, and only then, did Eric ring the front door bell. Having rung the bell, Eric then turned facing the street and went into kneeling display while he waited for Sir to come and let him in. While Eric was kneeling there, totally naked, except for his collar and padlock, he wondered what time Sir got home from work. Assuming that Sir worked of course. Predictably, as Eric's thoughts started to dwell on these ideas, Eric could feel the pre-cum beginning to roll down his urethra and pool on the tiles beneath his cock. Eric tried desperately to think of something else, as he didn't want to be caught on Sir's front porch with a raging hard on for all the world to see, it was bad enough that he was kneeling there totally naked and shaved bare in the first place.
After what seemed like an eternity, kneeling naked on the front porch, Eric heard the sound of the front door being unlocked, as well as the security door, but Eric knew better than to move before he was given permission. He heard Sir tsk tsking behind him, and Eric looked down to see the pool of pre-cum on the tiles, under his cock. Eric bent over and licked the tiles clean of all his pre-cum, and when he'd finished, then Sir gave the one-word command Eric had been waiting for. "Come"
Unhurriedly, Eric got to his feet and walked over to the other side of the door, where he'd left Sir's clothes, neatly folded. Straight legged Eric bent at the waist and picked Sir's clothes up, as he did so, Eric could feel his arse cheeks separate, so much so that Eric was sure his hole was on display to anyone who might be passing by on the street behind him. Eric picked up Sir's clothes, and he entered Sir's house. Just inside the door, Eric put Sir's clothes on the floor, again, only bending at the waist while he kept his legs ramrod straight so that once again, he thought, his hole was on display for anyone who might have been passing in the street.
When he'd put the clothes on the floor, Eric stood up straight before he turned and closed the front door, and as he moved around Eric could feel his thickening cock slapping between his thighs. As he wondered if he'd ever get used to only being allowed into the house if he stripped completely naked on the porch first. Eric made his way to the kitchen, he put Sir's clothes in the laundry and then went over to the bench and, using the key that Sir had left there, Eric undid the padlock and attached the chain to it. Eric then turned the collar around so that the chain was running down his back; he bent over, so his back was arched and opened his arse cheeks to let the chain settle into his crack and over his hole. Holding his arse cheeks closed over the chain Eric stood up and prepared to make Sir's evening meal.
But before he could make a start, Sir came into the kitchen and told Eric he had to get dressed as he had an errand he wanted Eric to run. So, Eric undid the padlock and removed the chain; he left the chain trapped in his arse cheeks so that it now ran out of the top of his crack and flowed down his crack to the floor, while the rest of it hung from below his arse cheeks. And it all pooled on the floor. When Eric had reattached the padlock to the collar, he went and got dressed.
Sir had already written out the address for him in Prahran, and Sir told him to hurry as he wanted Eric to get there before they closed. Sir stood just off to the side of Eric; he lifted the back flap of his shorts on the left-hand side, then Sir slapped Eric's arse as hard as he could. Eric heard the crack of Sir's hand making contact with his left butt cheek, only milliseconds before he felt the pain radiating from the site. Sir then pushed Eric and told him to hurry up, as he gave him the keys to the car.
Eric drove to Prahran and found the shop Sir wanted him to go to, but he had to walk up a flight of stairs, and as he walked up them, Eric rubbed his sore arse, thinking to himself that Sir didn't need to have hit him quite so hard. Anyway, when Eric got to the top of the stairs and walked into the shop proper, all he could see were showcases of jewellery, and Eric wondered if Sir wanted him to buy some jewellery. Not that Eric wore any himself, he always thought it made the guys look a bit poofy'. So, he went up to the nearest counter and told the sales assistant' that he was Eric and he had come to collect a package, he said uncertainly.
He was saved any further embarrassment by a voice calling out from the back of the shop that he, whoever he was, would deal with it. A curtain was flung aside, and Eric was beckoned inside. Eric walked around the display case and went through the doorway and was led down a short passage where he followed the guy into one of the rooms, that led off the passage. All that was in the room was a bench and the Tattooist's inks and machine. Eric stopped in the doorway and just looked at the man. "Your Master called and told me he wanted to get you tattooed, and that you have the design already on you. So, if you'd like to close the door and drop your shorts, I'd like to have a look at his design."
Eric closed the door and dropped his shorts, he turned around at the guys bidding and heard the guy give a low whistle. "Nice hand print," was all he heard the guy say before he told Eric to lay face down on the bench. Eric heard the guy take a photo, and then he was told to wait for a bit, while he disappeared through another door. He returned a short while later and sat on his stool beside the bench, he picked up a razor and made sure that Eric's arse was totally hairless on both cheeks, even though Sir insisted that Eric keeps himself shaved clean of body hair. He even had Eric spread his cheeks so that he could do Eric's cleft as well. When he was satisfied that Eric was completely hairless, he sprayed some stuff onto Eric's left cheek and laid some paper on top, and when he removed the paper, he started to tattoo some design onto Eric's arse. By the time the process was over, Eric didn't think his arse had ever hurt so much in his life. While the Tattooist was taping the plastic film over the tattoo, the Tattooist let a stray finger force its way between Eric's arse cheeks and circle Eric's anus, until Eric was moaning into the bench. Growing bolder, the Tattooist's finger slowly fucked Eric's arse. Abruptly finishing the way he'd begun, the Tattooist removed his finger and told Eric he could get up. Eric got up and dressed. When Eric stood up, he could plainly see, and feel his cock straining at the pouch of his jockstrap, as well as the patch of pre-cum that had formed on the bench under his cock. Without being told, Eric leaned down and licked it all up. It wasn't until he heard an audible gasp from the Tattooist that Eric's face flamed red with embarrassment. Eric realised too late that it was only Sir, who expected Eric to clean up any of his little messes, not everyone else at large.
Eric limped out to the front counter, "How would you like to pay for that? Cash or card?"
Eric just looked at him, knowing he only had sixty dollars in his wallet and only a few dollars left on his card. Eric handed over his card and wondered what would happen when his card was declined, but Sir must have transferred enough money into his account, as it went through Ok. On his way home, Eric got some lotion to rub into the tattoo to help it heal better.
So, for the second time today, Eric stripped on Sir's front porch, taking great care not to rip the plastic from off his tattoo, as he pulled down his shorts and sodden jockstrap. Again, his jockstrap made a wet, squelching sound as it hit the tiles of Sir's front porch. Eric rang the front door bell after he'd stripped completely and folded Sir's clothes neatly on the other side of the front door. Eric, again, went into kneeling display, facing the street, while he waited for Sir to come and let him in.
After he had been let inside, Sir told Eric to go downstairs and have a hot shower, and then to rub some lotion into his tattoo. Eric complied with Sir's instructions and had his first hot shower since this had all begun, and when he'd come back upstairs, Eric discovered that Sir had made his own meal, as well as leaving Eric's in his bowl.
Eric reattached his collar and chain and got down on all fours to eat. Sir finished his meal first and complimented Eric on his tattoo, and in spite of himself, Eric beamed. He sat back on his haunches and thanked Sir for the compliment, before leaning forwards again and finishing his meal. When Eric had finished his meal, he washed his bowl in the troves in the laundry, before going back and cleaning up Sir's dishes in the dining room, as well as cleaning up the mess in the kitchen that Sir had made.
When Eric had finished cleaning the kitchen, Sir walked past him and said, "come." Eric followed Sir down to the dungeon. Sir pointed to a spot on the floor and Eric stood on that spot. Sir went over to the rack of equipment on the side wall and selected two leather cuffs and a penis gag. At Sir's bidding, Eric opened his mouth and allowed Sir to insert the penis gag, which he cinched tight behind Eric's head. Eric then held out his two arms, and Sir attached the two leather locking cuffs to both wrists. Sir lowered the chains that were suspended from the ceiling and clipped the D' rings on both cuffs to the chains. Sir then raised the chains back up towards the ceiling; he only stopped when Eric could just touch the floor with his big toes. Sir walked over to Eric and ran his hands over Eric's body, from bellow his shoulders all the way down to his knees, feeling the taut muscles underneath Eric's skin. Try as hard as he might, Eric couldn't stop his cock reacting to the touch of his Master, and it slowly started to thicken and rise, so it no longer pointed flaccidly at the floor. But Sir wasn't having any of that, he walked back to the wall and picked up a riding crop that was hanging there. He walked back to Eric, and when he was close enough, Sir hit Eric's growing cock with all the force he could muster, "what did I tell you about keeping your cock under control, boy'? Next time, I think I'm going to have to use a chastity device to teach you some kind of control." Sir growled.
Meanwhile, Eric screamed into his penis gag, when the riding crop made contact with his cock. Sir returned the riding crop, and came back and stood in front of Eric. He reached up as high as he could, he didn't have a hope of reaching Eric's shoulders, but that didn't matter. Sir ran his hands down both sides of Eric's chest and sides, feeling the taunt muscles under Eric's skin. Sir marvelled at the strength Eric's muscles bespoke of. Sir marvelled at the satin smoothness of Eric's skin, as his hands continued to run down Eric's abdomen and sides. Sir silently agreed with himself that all boys' should be kept hairless from the neck down. Only real men should have body hair not boys'. Sirs' hands ran over Eric's hips and continued down his thighs until he reached Eric's knees.
Sir then reached up and ran his hands down Eric's chest, over his pecs, but Sir didn't stop to tweak them. No, this was about ownership. About reaffirming their places in the household. Sir is the alpha male, while Eric was nothing more than a side of meat. Nothing more than a plaything for his Master and anyone else he wanted to share Eric with. Sir had total control over Eric, and everything he did, or might do. Even life or death, if Sir so willed or wished it.
Sir's hands reached Eric's cock, and Sir stretched out the skin, so he could better see the welt left by the riding crop. Sir began to rub the spot with his thumb, applying increasing pressure, as Eric resisted the urge to squirm and scream from the pain that was beginning to radiate from his cock again. Eric had started to sweat freely, but Sir continued to rub the spot, with increasing pressure, although now that part of Eric's cock was almost squeezed flat under Sir's ministrations.
"You will learn to obey me in everything, `boy'," Sir said, as he continued applying pressure to Eric's cock. "You will learn that I have total control over this pathetic body of yours. If you wish me to remain here, training you. Then you'd better start learning your lessons. Is that clear enough for you?"
Sir looked up at Eric and could see a tear escaping from both his eyes, whether it was from the pain in his cock or the threat that Sir might leave. Sir was not sure. Sir heard Eric mumble something around the penis gag in his mouth. Sir let go of Eric's cock, and cupped both of Eric's balls in his hand, and started to gently knead Eric's balls in his hand. As he continued to knead Eric's balls, Sir slowly applied more and more pressure to Eric's balls. Until it got to the point that the only way Sir could keep applying more pressure on Eric's balls was to close his hand around them completely. When he did that, Sir started to pull Eric's balls down towards the floor. Sir kept pulling on Eric's balls until the skin of Eric's scrotum was so tight, that, had Sir the mind to flick the stretched skin, he could have produced a note. Sir tired of his game, and let Eric's balls go. He reached around and grabbed Eric's meaty globes of his arse, and for the first time, his finger penetrated Eric's hole.
Eric moaned around the penis gag in his mouth in pleasure. Eric couldn't believe it. After all this time, Sir was finally giving him some pleasure. Pulling his finger out of Eric's hole, Sir ran his hands over the meaty mounds of Eric's arse and continued down the backs of Eric's legs. When he reached the backs of Eric's knees, Sir let Eric go. He walked over to the wall where the winch that was attached to the chains that were holding Eric suspended in the air. He let Eric down enough, so that his feet were now flat on the floor, while still having to maintain his full stretch. Sir busied himself out of Eric's line of sight, when he'd finished, Sir picked up a small bucket hanging from the rack that was attached to the wall. He walked over and stood in front of Eric. Again, he ran the flat of his hand down Eric's chest, effectively getting rid of the sweat that had built up earlier.
Sir bent down and picked up some pegs out of the bucket and began to outline Eric's pecs with the pegs. Sir paid particular attention to the placement of the pegs so that all the holes lined up vertically on Eric's chest. Even with the pegs that outlined the underneath of Eric's pecs, all the holes in the pegs lined up roughly vertically. Sir did the same with the pegs outlining Eric's pubic region. Including the pegs that ran down Eric's cock.
Sir went out of Eric's line of sight again, and this time when he returned he had a saucepan full of molten wax in one hand, and in the other hand he held a large Batik tool. Eric looked at the tool uncomprehendingly, until Sir dipped the Batik tool into the molten wax, and when it was full of molten wax, he proceeded to pour the wax through the spout of the Batik tool down the holes in the pegs. Effectively pouring the wax over the skin that was being pinched by the pegs.
Eric tried to scream around the penis plug in his mouth as the pain from the molten wax intensified the pain of his pinched skin. Still, Sir continued to fill up all the holes in all the pegs with wax. When the wax in the saucepan started to cool and solidify, Sir went and got another saucepan of wax from off the stove, replacing it with the saucepan of solidifying wax.
Eric almost passed out while Sir filled the holes in the pegs on his pubic region, and along his cock. When Sir had finished filling all the holes in the pegs, he amused himself more by drawing a picture on Eric's chest using the wax in the Batik tool. When Sir grew tired of drawing on Eric with the molten wax, he went and got the riding crop and began to flick the wax filled pegs. So, that now Eric was in his own world of pain, and by the time Sir had tired of flicking the pegs and had set about knocking all the pegs off Eric's body with the riding crop. Eric was screaming continuously. When Sir had finished knocking all the pegs and wax off of Eric's body, he pulled Eric into a bear hug and whispered in his ear that it was all over now. As Eric came down from his high, and began to quieten down and was finally able to get his breathing under control. Sir reached up and undid the cuffs holding Eric's arms up, and allowed Eric's arms to fall to his side. Sir bore the full weight of Eric until he'd recovered enough to be able to stand on his own.
Sir took Eric back upstairs and out to the backyard. He held Eric's cock for him while he had a piss and then held his hand up for Eric to lick clean. Sir secured the end of the chain around the base of the clothesline and left Eric to go to sleep.
Sir went back inside and went to bed.
In the morning, Sir woke Eric again by throwing a bucket of cold water over him as per usual, but he didn't grab hold of Eric's cock straight away. But left Eric standing there while Sir undid the padlock tethering Eric to the clothesline. It was only after he'd done that did Sir grab hold of Eric's cock while he had his morning piss. When Eric had finished, Sir shook the drops off the end of Eric's cock, then held up his hand for Eric to lick clean. Eric ran inside and had his breakfast of Weet Bix and toast soaked in Sir's first piss of the day.
Eric cleaned up the kitchen and took his bowl out to the laundry to clean in the troves. When Eric walked through the doorway to the laundry, he was almost bowled over by a very strong, but not too unpleasant an odour. While it was very strong, Eric didn't find it a particularly unpleasant smell, even mixed, as it was, with the acrid smell of dried piss, but he did have a hunt around to try and find out where the odour was coming from. He discovered that it was his clothes that was causing the odour or more to the point it was his jockstrap that smelt. Not only did it smell but it was quite pissed stained as well as the stains left by his precum. Eric didn't know what to do; he knew he wasn't allowed to wash it, as Sir had told him he had to wear it for a week before he got a clean one. As all his clean jockstraps were now in Sir's room and Eric wasn't allowed upstairs even, he couldn't just nick in and get a clean one and swap them over. So, Eric washed his bowl in the troves while he eyed off his jockstrap warily. Eric went downstairs to the toilet. Sir gave Eric the key to the padlock and Eric unlocked the padlock, and put the padlock and collar on top of his clothes and headed back to the backyard to have his shower under the hose. When he'd finished, he rubbed the lotion into his tattoo and went back to the laundry to get dressed.
Eric made sure his collar was nice and tight. Not tight enough so that he couldn't breathe, but tight enough so that his collar couldn't get snagged on anything around the construction site. He didn't want to get into trouble with that very cute foreman. Or did he? Eric picked up his jockstrap, and Eric thought it was even stiffer than yesterday if that was even possible. Eric kneaded it between his hands until it was a bit more pliable. He pulled it on and adjusted himself, then he licked all the flakes off his hands and dropped onto all fours and licked all the flakes he could find off the floor. When he was sure the floor was clean, he pulled on his very skimpy shorts, t-shirt, and work boots. He grabbed his bag of tools and headed for the front door.
But Sir was standing in front of the door. Eric stopped in front of him, with his eyes downcast as he always did when he was in Sir's presence. Sir told Eric to turn around and bend over. When Eric had complied, Sir grabbed the waist band of Eric's shorts and pulled them down over the large meaty globes of Eric's arse. Sir told Eric to pull his arse cheeks apart, and Eric complied exposing his hole to Sir. He felt Sir work a finger covered in lube up his arse. While Eric was glad that Sir was pleasuring him again, Eric was concerned about catching his train. Sir withdrew his finger and wiped it clean in Eric's hair. Eric then felt something very cold pressing against his hole, in fact, it was so cold that it made his hole pucker and close. Sir applied more pressure against it, and with Eric pushing back on his bowels, Sir was able to overcome his sphincter and Eric felt a very large solid butt plug being forced into his arse. When he had finished, Sir slapped Eric's arse and told him to go to work. Eric pulled up his shorts and ran out the door. As he walked to the station, it felt as though he had a block of ice up his arse and lodged in his abdomen. In fact, it was so cold that Eric's bowels started to cramp. So, Eric decided to run to the train station to try and raise his core temperature a bit more. By the time he got to the station, Eric's bowels didn't hurt quite so much, but now he was sweaty from his run, and he was sure he could smell his jockstrap even more now.
As a train was just pulling into the station, Eric felt he had no other option but to catch it. So, he pushed his way onto the train, along with all the other commuters. As they were all packed in like sardines, as per usual, Eric didn't have to try and sit with this thing stuck up his arse. While he was standing on the packed train, Eric thought he felt someone's hand brush his genitals. But try as he might he couldn't look down and see the hand that had grown bolder and was now full on groping his genitals. To his horror, Eric could feel his treacherous cock start to rise to the occasion. Eric still couldn't make out who it was that was copping a feel. Now, he could feel someone trying to free his cock and balls from his jockstrap.
Eric took a step backwards, into the person standing behind him, for which he got cursed at by the person he stepped into. But the hand followed him and had almost succeeded in freeing his cock and balls from his jockstrap. Eric let go of the bar he was holding, so he didn't fall over, while the train was in motion, he reached down and grabbed the hand and pulled it off his cock. And in doing so, because the hand was still holding onto his jockstrap, he pulled his jockstrap away from his cock as well. Effectively freeing his cock and balls from it, just like the hand had been trying to do in the first place. Eric flamed red with embarrassment. Dropped his bag of tools on the floor, not caring, now, if anyone's feet were in the way or not, and amidst all the protests, he stuffed his cock and balls back into his jock. As soon as the train pulled into the next station, Eric muscled his way off the train.
He sat down on one of the bench seats provided but jumped straight up again when the butt plug, which Eric had forgotten about, made its presence known. Ignoring the growing crowd of commuters waiting for the next train, Eric lept to his feet, he swore and cursed as loud as he could until he was able to gain some control over himself again. Eric tried sitting down again, but this time he gingerly lowered himself onto the seat, and he discovered that if he sat on the edge of the seat, then it didn't put too much pressure on the plug up his arse. Eric sat there and hung his head. Eric began to review his situation and wondered if it was all worth it. Sure, as he thought about how he got into this in the first place. He ruminated on how he'd gotten tired of the supposed tops he'd been meeting had just been playing at bondage. How they were all safe words' and fumbling with knots, not knowing how to tie them properly. How Eric felt he was given to much say about what happened in his, very well-appointed, dungeon. How he longed to be mastered' properly, by a real man, someone who could really teach him what it meant to be a 'boy'. It was why he had decided to wear his chosen attire, partly as a fuck you to the rest of the world, partly because he had a body he was proud of, a body he loved to show off and thrust in other people's faces. That was why he'd trolled the dark web in the first place, looking for a real man to take him under control. Someone who really understood what they were doing in the dungeon and outside of it. Someone who was a Master all the time. Someone Eric was proud to call Sir. Someone who Eric desperately wanted to please. Someone just like Sir. Eric realised that he loved Sir, and wanted, to be Sir's `boy'. He liked that he wasn't allowed to look Sir in the face. That he didn't even know what Sir's face looked like. He loved the way Sir had taken over control of his whole life. How Eric no longer had a say in anything that happened to him. He loved Sir completely.
With that realisation, Eric asked himself, was he going to sit here and feel sorry for himself, or was he going to man up, and show everyone that he was man enough to be someone's boy'. To be Sir's boy'? Eric was tired of being ruled by his cock, it was time Sir ruled his cock, so Eric didn't have to worry about it anymore. Eric reminded himself that he'd chosen to wear this particular outfit to work, long before Sir came along. He liked the way it showed off his body, and fuck, he was proud of his body, and he was proud of the fact that Sir liked it enough to make Eric his plaything.
The next train was pulling into the station, and Eric stood up and strode purposefully towards it. He loved the sensation of the cloth of his jockstrap rubbing over his cock and balls. He loved the fact that Sir thought enough of him, a mere `boy', to get him tattooed with his mark, as well as getting the butt plug he was currently wearing. He stood proudly on the crowded train. Who cares if he reeked of pre-cum and old piss, or if his jockstrap was stained from his piss and pre-cum. To Eric, it meant that he was loved, which pulled Eric up short for a minute. Eric'd never felt loved before in his life. He decided that he'd do anything that Sir wanted him to, even if Sir wanted him to go to work naked, Eric'd do it.
Eric walked with a stagger in his step through Southern Cross Station, revelling in the attention he got, because it meant that other people could see that he was owned by someone, heart and soul.
Eric got to the worksite, and after putting his stuff in the lockers, he almost ran over to the hunky little foreman to get his day underway. Eric didn't mind that everyone wanted to slap his arse, as long as that was all they wanted, he didn't care. It just meant that he, Eric, was a very desirable `boy', that everyone wanted to fuck, but the only person who was allowed to fuck him was none other than his Sir, or anyone else Sir allowed to fuck him.
At the end of his shift, Eric couldn't wait to get home. He bounded up the front stairs and tore off his clothes. He folded up all of Sir's clothes, but before he put Sir's jockstrap on top of the pile, he held it over his nose while he inhaled the heady aroma of his old pre-cum, piss, and sweat. Did he know love the odours he had once despised? He reluctantly put the jockstrap on the top of the pile of clothes and rang the front door bell. He went into kneeling display, facing the street of course, and waited for Sir to open the door and let him in.
Don't forget to let me know what you think. Bastian