Storm Discovery, Part TEN - Weekend at Verner's Bamaboi2serve@charter.net
The ride downtown was uncomfortable...many of Hotlanta's downtown streets are notorious for potholes...but eventually we came to a stop. I heard a garage door opening, we pulled forward and then the door closed. I expected bright light when the trunk was opened, but it was still dark in whatever space we were in.
One of the Germans searched around in the tiny compartment for the end of my leash, grabbing my tit rings momentarily and yanked on them before he located it. When he did, he pulled me very harshly out of the trunk. I fell to my knees on a hard concrete floor. He didn't stop, but immediately started walking with me in tow, trying to keep up, choking because of the leash. I was too slow for him, so he turned around and slapped my almost exposed ass cheeks so hard it took my breath away! "Move Slut!", he yelled.
I kept up with him the rest of the walk through the garage, up a short set of stairs to an elevator and then into the huge industrial-like loft.
He pulled me to the center of the main living area and mounted my neck from behind, kneeling down with my head between his legs, using his crotch to force my head downward, squeezing it tightly with his long muscular legs. He wore leather pants, adding to the eroticism of the moment for me. I inhaled deeply. "My name is Verner," said the blond, but you will call me Sir and nothing but Sir! My friend over there is Schmidt, but he too will be Sir to you. We are both very horny. We miss our little slave bois back in Berlin, and we are worried that you are a spoiled American and may not be as obedient as they are. Will you? Will you do as we say?"
As he was speaking, the dark haired Schmidt came over in front of my face, knelt down, opened his fly, and proceeded to piss on my face. I tried to answer the question and catch some of his piss in my mouth at the same time, producing a gargled answer that I hoped sounded like "Yes Sir!".
When he had finished pissing, he went around to my ass, pulled down my shorts and proceeded to paddle my ass with a black discipline paddle with holes in it. The blond Sir maintained his leather-clad leg- hold on me, slapping my head with his hardening cock. I couldn't even move as my ass burned red!
Blond Sir used his hand to sop up some of his partner's piss from the tiled floor and wipe it into my hair and onto my face. Despite the pain on my ass, I licked his fingers when they came within reach of my mouth.
I know it's wrong, but the two Sir's German accents were a turn- on for me, and I wanted very badly to satisfy whatever itch they needed scratching. I had never had a POW type of fantasy, but I could feel one welling up inside me.
Finally, the ass spanking ended and both of the Sirs stood up, walked over the an open-area kitchen and got beers from the refrigerator, leaving me behind on all-fours without a word.
They turned on a music system and dance music mixes filled the space. Outside it had started pouring rain.
I could feel heat rising from my bright red cheeks, and the aroma of pee was all over my head and face. The pain was severe enough that I even felt a couple of tears drop to the floor to mix with the pee.
The kitchen was far enough away that even with my head down I could finally see the two visitors. Blond Verner was short and stocky, very muscular, with chest hair sprouting from behind the neck of the tight spandex T-shirt he wore above the tight leather jeans. The hair on his head was skinhead short and he had a close trimmed goatee. Bold tribal tattoos circled both arms, framing his huge arm biceps. His eyes were a fierce blue. I feared him, even without eye contact.
Black-haired Schmidt was much taller and lanky. His straight hair was long, touching his collar. He had virtually no body hair that I could see. His eyes were as dark as his hair. His muscles were long and subtle, his jeans were hip-huggers, a bright white tank showed off his beautiful body.
I guessed that both of my weekend Masters were in their late 20's. I blushed, thinking about my concern earlier that they would be old men.They were hunks and I was proud to be in their service. I only hoped I could keep up with them!
There was a clock in view. It was Friday night just after 9:00. I had been in the loft only fifteen minutes. It was going to be a very long weekend!
There were two bathrooms in the loft...a luxurious full bath with sauna, enclosed in frosted glass block against the main interior wall, and a second much smaller bath at the other end of the room. It was to this room that Blond Sir pulled me, attaching my arms to the restraining straps at the back of my harness and unceremoniously tossing me into the shower stall. He then covered me completely with his piss. He did it so casually, hardly glancing at me, as if he was peeing into a urinal. But for me it was another humiliating turn-on and I had a roaring hard-on.
"Oh, a real piss pig, eh? You like this? We'll see how much is real and how much just a little american boi fantasy, shithead. We do things differently in Germany, bitch. You americans just play make-believe. We do it for real!" WIth that he pulled out a pair of serious endurance tit clamps and quickly put them in place. I love having my tits played with, but this wasn't play. I was in serious pain!
Dark Master replaced him and did the same, finishing the piss he had started earlier. Then both men left the room, turning off the light but leaving the door open. I crouched in the dark, inhaling their aromas, my ass still smarting from the spanking, adjusting to the clamps, and wondering what was next for me.
From outside I could hear them talking, perhaps on the phone, but I couldn't quite make out the words. I did hear "clean him" and "dark numbers"...then Blond Sir came in and turned on the water in the shower, not waiting for it to warm up, of course. He directed the stream over me, rinsing off the sweat and piss I had accumulated. A rough towel drying followed, Dark Sir handed me a pill and a glass of water and ordered me to swallow it. Then we were headed out the door of the loft, me at dog level.
I was truly confused, where were we going? A club? I thought the loft was "equipped" for playing. The leather of the harness FS had put on me was tightening even more on my body from the piss and the water of the shower.
We got into the elevator and went down to the ground level, but instead of heading into the garage, we turned and went to a hallway with a series of doors. As we walked past I could tell they were interior entrances to the retail stores in the building. Someone approached from the other end of the hall and we moved aside to let him pass. This being Downtown Atlanta, I got only a "nice dog" comment and barely a glance. At the third door we stopped and Dark Master rang a bell.
I was keeping my head down, so I couldn't read the sign on the door, but through the glass I could see it was some kind of leather store. At least there were leather goods hanging on the one wall I could see.
Someone came and let us in, locking the door behind us. I quickly found out what kind of shop it was.
"Hi, we called from upstairs? We have the boi here who needs marking."
It was a tattoo place! My mind immediately started figuring ways out, thinking Master would never approve of these strangers having me inked, thinking I could make a run for it and Master would approve. I glanced around to either side of me and didn't see an obvious exit...
Dark Sir reached down and started un-strapping my elaborate leather harness, face mask and all. Dark Sir accepted a plain leather blindfold from the shop owner and covered my eyes.
With the cock-gag out, I was able to talk, but I was scared to say anything. Dark Sir started speaking down to me, like one might address an especially dumb child,
"Now boi, we don't want any trouble from you. We've decided you are much too plain looking and need some markings to set off your pale hairless skin. Mark here is going to do the work while we go off and visit your nightclubs." As he spoke, both Sirs picked me up and put me on a raised surface like a hospital bed. The used heavy straps to secure me face-up, pulling my hands up above my head and attaching them to a metal rod. They spread my legs out and secured them to rings built into the bottom. I was shaking, more scared about Master's reaction than anything, but not exactly looking forward to the tattoo pain either.
Blond Sir went away for a moment and came back, getting close to my left ear and whispered: "Can you feel the item I've just laid on your stomach bitch? It's a much more substantial paddle than the puny one I used on you upstairs. Mark here is going to put this toy on my bill. If you've given him any trouble at all, all three of us are going to try it out on your ass. All three of us! So do as you are told fuckface! We're anxious to get this done so we can play with our new toy when we get back next weekend!"
The German Sirs left and Mark abruptly reached out and started playing with my cock, which had softened but now unexpectedly rose almost immediately to attention. Now I knew what the pill was.
"We've got some work to do slut, and not a lot of time...so let's start. I'm not gay, by the way, so don't think I'm getting off playing with you! It necessary for the job. Notice I'm wearing gloves so I don't have to touch your stinkin' skin! Cock tattoos are pretty painful, but I know you're up to it, so to speak." He chuckled at his own pun.
"Cock tattoo???" I thought.
With that, some kind of liquid was brushed on my hard tool and the process began. If you have ever been inked, you can imagine the pain. Each and every needle prick was magnified by the number of nerve endings in my penis. Yet despite the pain I was excited in my humiliation and found myself trying to figure out exactly what design was being put along my shaft. He was starting at the base and working toward the head.
After a while, Mark, talking to himself mostly, answered that questions and others too.
"I really don't much care what the designs people choose mean, but I am a little curious. Exactly what is PM3572? Go ahead, you can answer, I won't tell them you spoke."
The Sirs couldn't know that number unless Master told them! It was my Paramedic badge number, and that meant Master had approved of this whole tattoo event!
In as few words as possible, I explained to Mark, and he shrugged it off. I was a piece of meat to him, my hard cock just a part of that meat, and he didn't care what I put on my body, as long as he got paid.
It took him over an hour to finish marking the stretched skin of my cock with the thick, almost inch high blue colored letters and numbers, and by the time he was done I was almost numb to the pain. When he let go, my cock finally started to deflate, my badge ID number shrinking so it looked like an illegible blue blob.
He wasn't done. Mark went to work on my chest, sketching out a circle that was wide enough to cover my tits on the outside. A smaller ring was inside, and I suddenly knew what it would be. It took several hours, and it was after midnight when Mark held a mirror up to my chest after wiping away the blood drops. Master now had FS and an OS, a Fuck-Slave and an Oral-Slave. I was marked.
From now on, I would have to explain it to anyone who saw me what it stood for, and if they saw me naked, they would see my number as well. What would my firemen friends think? Especially Todd! What would my former best friend/co-worker think?
Mark let me use his bathroom, then tied me back down in the reclining chair for some sleep. About 3:00 a.m., FS showed up to take me back to the farm until next weekend when my German Masters would come back from New York to play.
He smirked at my new "OS" tattoo, though I thought I caught a little jealousy too. He made me walk upright and used the leash to guide me shirtless through the street to Master's pickup. Even that early in the morning there were men cruising, and my new look got a lot of attention.
More to come, of course.
Bamaboi2serve@charter.net