Tales of a Dedicated Jack of Spades

This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or real persons is purely coincidental.

This story may include unprotected sex. In real life, don't gamble, play safe.

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Tales of a Dedicated Jack Of Spades - Part 2

Watson:

Well Sir, I don't know if you remember me but I was the guy who was working out for months at a local downtown gym when I was questioned by a young man in the steam room about my Jack Of Spades tattoo that was on my chest. If you remember Sir, the next day when I went to work-out I was called into the manager's office and it was suggested that I started working out at their sister gym down the street that was a private gym. I was going to decline but then they showed me a picture of the Black god that would be my trainer, Jed, and I immediately agreed to the change.

The first day at the new gym was an eye opener for sure. I was met at the front door by Jed, my new trainer. He took me to what looked like a doctor's office and he explained that the first step to becoming a full member at this gym is to pass a rigorous physical so that he, Jed, as my trainer, would know how to bring out the best in me.

All of this he shared with a smile on his face, but it was less that he was sharing this info with a client, then to a child. But I didn't say anything to him because he was so damn hot. I won't even begin to describe him, I'll let you fill those thoughts in for yourself. Let's just say he was a mountain of a man who made me feel like a woman next to him. That was not a cOmfortable feeling for me, it nevertheless that was how I was feeling.

"Strip." He stated with that smile on his face. And I did...quickly.

In a couple of minutes I was standing naked before this black god. My clothes were taken away by an attendant who, until that moment. I did not even notice was in the room. A non-descript white guy, tiny, lumber looking, dressed in a pink jock-strap.

"Who was tha..." I began to question.

"Don't worry about him...he's one of the help.

I turned and caught a glimpse of his pink encircled, skinny ass retreating from the room with my clothes, keys, wallet, and everything else. But somehow I let it go when Jed snapped his fingers and I turned back to him.

"So boy, when you workout here you will be working at your capacity, all the time. Our motto is all about working you to your maximum so we can get the maximum improvement to your body and health. Because the stronger, and healthier you, the better it is for us."

He paused for a moment as if I should say something to break up the awkward silence. But my mind was reeling because within minutes I was stripped naked in front of this Black God of a man, and some pink tarted skinny boy just walked off with all my money, identification, keys, clothes, etc. I had no idea what to say.

Jed continued: "So, step #1 is to get you up on the treadmill and I'm going to set a jogging pace that I think you will be comfortable with. No matter what you do, never step off the treadmill."

"Okay, I won't." I promised as I stepped up on the machine. Then slowly it started moving as it began as a slow walk, which built to a faster stride, and finally an easy jog. I was running a couple of miles every other day now, so this will be a cinch, I assured myself.

While I was jogging away, the pink clad twink that took away my clothes earlier came back in the room and got on the treadmill on the other side of the room from mine.

`I've ordered Phillip here to get on the other treadmill opposite yours boy so that you have someone to compete against." Jed told me as he started up the twink's treadmill at a pace that was obviously much faster than my own.

"Now Phillip here has been training with us for quite a long time. You can see that his body type is quite different from yours boy. Whereas he is all long slender muscles, your body will lend itself more to a thicker, bigger musculature. The harder you lift, the more testosterone replacement therapy you undergo, the bigger and stronger you will become."

Jed comes over and speeds up my treadmill three notches which has me at an all out run. I'm trying to focus on my form and balance while continuing to breathe as deeply and as evenly as I can. So focused on my own running I don't notice that Phillip across the way is starting to stumble and struggle. I missed it, but Jed did not.

He made his way over to Phillip's treadmill.

"Are we having a problem over here boy?"

"No Sir, I'm fine Sir" Phillip stutters out, barely able to breathe.

"Pay attention boy," he barks at me from around the room.

And my head snaps to attention as I watch him approach Phillip's treadmill.

"We have a particular way of motivating our clients here boy." He began as he slowly peeled off his tight t-shirt, uncovering his massively muscled chest. His pecs jumped as if they were freed from confinement. I could almost see his nipples reacting to the cool air of the room as they seemed to plump up as well. Before I knew it I was so focused on Jed's incredible beauty, I stumbled and nearly fell off my treadmill. Luckily, I caught myself at the last minute and caught up to the exhausting pace underneath my feet.

"You okay boy?"

"Yes...yes Sir." I gasped out at him.

"As I was saying boy, we have a particular way of motivating our clients here..." and he reached for his belt and pulled it from the loops of his pants.

"In the beginning, we listen to your ideas of what you think might motivate you to workout harder and stick to you eating program. But after I have spent some time training you I will discover some new methods of motivation that I feel work best to keep you working hard."

With that he stepped up behind Phillip who was all but falling down on his treadmill from exhaustion, and he doubled his belt over and laid three hard lashes across Phillip's shoulders while yelling...

"Move you maggot!" Slash.

"Ahhh, please Sir , no Sir," Phillip yelled out.

"I said move!" Slash.

"Ahhhh!" Phillip screamed, but his legs moved faster, and he stopped stumbling.

But as the blows continued to fall on his shoulders and back, Phillip's pace quickened, his breathing evened out and he regained control over the pace that the treadmill was set at below him.

"Seven...Eight...Nine...and Ten!" Jed yelled at Phillip as the last shots from his belt counted out on his back. Then he walked up to Phillip's treadmill and looked him right in the eye.

"Look at me boy." And Phillip raised his eyes to meet his tormentor's.

"Do you have something to say to me Phillip?"

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir for motivating me, Sir."

"Good boy." As he reaches over and speeds Phillip's treadmill up another two levels. The boy is literally flying, he is running so hard. His legs look like a blur to me.

The Jed comes over and turns my machine off and I slow down, trying desperately to get my breath. My brain was working overtime because I really wasn't in to getting whipped or hurt like Phillip just was.

After I caught my breath I told Jed just that.

"Oh don't worry about that boy, we'll figure out the best way to keep you motivated, you can count on that." Jed assured me as he ushered me over to a seat in front of his desk.

"Sit down boy, catch your breath." Which I did. Then he took a seat on the corner of his desk just inches in front of me. I could see the beads of sweat on his arms from the beating he just gave Phillip. I couldn't help but just stare up at this beautiful man and slowly take in his physique. His abs could cut glass and I couldn't avert my eyes from them as I counted them. There were 12 that I could discern. And that incredible Orion's belt that fit men had that ran from their side oblique muscles and down their pants.

"See something that interests you boy?" Jed interrupts my tour of the perfect dark body in front of me.

"Oh sorry..." I stumble...

"Not to worry boy, take your time...I'm here to motivate you and get you fit. If staring at me gets you motivated then that's fine by me."

I look at his eyes as they, in turn, rove down my body, checking out my far from perfect specimen of male pulchritude. When the smile hits his face I follow his eyes downwards into my lap and see my cock is hard as a rock.

"Shit! I'm sorry Sir"

"Don't apologize boy. If you didn't get a hard on looking at me then I would begin to question that Jack of Spades tattoo on your chest.

Then he yelled over at poor Phillip who sounded like he was dying on the treadmill.

"You're done bitch. Turn off the machine and get out of here. There are a bunch of towels need to be put through the laundry before you go home."

"Yes Sir," answers Phillip as he turns off the machine and nearly stumbles on his tired legs when he steps off his instrument of torture. Silently, he walks towards the door, and I can see the vivid red stripes across his shoulders and back.

"Thank you Sir," he utters as he quietly leaves the room.

"Do you have any questions for me boy?"

I turned my attention back to the handsome man sitting just inches away from me on the corner of his desk.

"Yes Sir. I'm afraid of getting beaten like that Sir."

"You wear a Jack of Spades tattoo on your chest boy."

"Yes Sir, I do. I received it when I was in my early 20's. I had a lover that taught me about what it meant and he wanted me to get it."

"And in your years of wearing your Jack Of Spades marking, have you never been beaten by a superior black man?"

"Yes Sir, quite often, when I was with my former lover. He would beat me when I did something wrong, or when I broke his rules."

"And where is this man today, boy?"

"Sadly, Sir, he was killed by a drunk driver over 20 years ago Sir."

"I'm sorry to hear that boy."

"Thank you Sir"

"And have you served any other black kings over the last two decades boy?"

"No Sir"

"Why not boy?"

"Well, it didn't seem right. He was the one who taught me how to properly serve my black king, so when I lost him..." I took a moment to get hold of my emotions..."when I lost him it didn't seem right to serve any others."

"I understand that boy, believe me I do." Jed began...

"But being a true Jack Of Spades goes far beyond your wants and needs and feelings...wouldn't you agree with me?"

"Yes Sir"

"And yet until my cousin spotted you in the steam room earlier this week and pointed out your tattoo, no one had approached you before?"

"No Sir, no one really has seen me with my shirt off Sir. Until I came to the gym, I had no reason to take my shirt off in public, so it was basically kept covered all these years.

"And yet when my nephew asked you what it meant you didn't try to make something up, you levelled with him directly"

Yes Sir, I knew that he was too young to do anything with sexually, so I figured it was a good history lesson with for him at least. I had no idea about his own experience with his mother being a Queen Of Spades.

"So you are an honest JofS then are you boy?"

"I try to be Sir, yes."

"Then tell me boy, if you had free reign over my body what would you like to do to me boy?"

My mind was going a hundred miles a minute. But no matter what deviant things I was thinking about, I knew deep down the only correct answer to his question...

"It is not my place to fantasize about what I may want to do with your body Sir, as perfect as it is. It is only my place to accept what your wishes are Sir. As a dedicated Jack Of Spades, which I believe I am Sir, it is not my place to have expectations about my needs Sir, only to be fully in the present so I am clear to follow your orders immediately and without question."

He stared me down from the corner of his desk. I could see one of his hands from the periphery of my vision, move to the right leg of the shorts he was wearing and hitch up the leg a bit. I could almost sense or feel that his cockhead had now been freed to the air around it. But I dare not look, because I did not have his permission to do so. And he was staring at me so intently. Suddenly my nostrils flared as the scent of his manhood wafted towards me. My own cock hardened even more so as he stared down at me, daring me to look at his cock.

Then he leaned even further towards me until our noses were nearly touching. I could smell his breath as he exhaled on to me.

"Let me tell you about the young man, Phillip, in the pink jock strap, whom you seem to have a struggle with my necessity or even my choice to whip him so harshly when he got sluggish on the treadmill."

"Yes Sir?"

"Young Phillip was brought to the attention of our movement when his very worried parents brought him in to our sister gym, the one you used to belong to, and begged to help their son. He was just turned 15 at the time, 5'6", weighing in at an astounding 368 pounds."

He saw the shock in my eyes.

"Oh yes, boy, I assure you it's the truth. I was there when he first got weighed in. 368 big fat role poly pounds of him. But that's not the saddest part of the story boy. Oh no not by a long shot. The saddest part of the story was the look on that young boys face as he stood on that scale with the numbers flashing in bright red neon on the wall, in front of his mother and father, me, a couple of other trainers, and a few others. Standing there, humiliated, and worst of all...hopeless."

He stood up from the desk and walked around behind me standing directly at my back. I could feel his breath on the nape of my neck. And his fingertips trailing over the skin of my back and shoulders, exactly where young Phillip had been marked before.

"It broke my heart, it did, but I knew how to help the lad. As soon as I looked in those hopeless eyes, I knew what he needed. So I explained the way this gym worked. I told them traditional diet and exercise programs were useless when it came to a case like Phillip. So I told them about the training we did here. I explained to them about the New World Order and how Phillip would be trained by a series of black Masters, each working their own particular brand of control and discipline. And if they all followed the orders given to them, Phillip will be a success and he will regain his health."

"What do you mean, all of us?" Asked the father.

"Well," I explained to them, "Phillip did not get this size on his own. It was you who fed him, you who provided the food, you who allowed him to be lazy and lie around playing video games instead of getting outside and exercising, playing, being physical. No, I promise you Mr. Fletcher, Phillip is not to blame alone for his predicament, so why should he be forced to face the consequences on his own?"

"Neither of them could muster an argument in their own favour and so they agreed that the journey will be a family affair."

Then he moved forward, pressing his body against mine. I could feel the heat from his chest on the back of my neck and shoulders. He pressed his weight against me and soon overpowered me and I found myself splayed across the desk in front of me, being held tightly by a strong hand at the back of my neck.

"Of course because of Phillip's young age, just barely 15, he was not made available for sexual domination. That's why he must always wear those pink jockstraps. Whenever one of those is worn it is a signal to all the Black Bulls, whether staff members or visiting, that the wearer is off limits for sexual contact, in any way. At least until his 18th birthday."

I could feel his grip around my neck tighten.

"But his parents, oh they were fair game. For everyone. It's amazing what depths of depravity those two parents were willing to go to so that their son could have a healthy future. It was moving actually."

And without warning his hand came down with a hard slap on my right ass cheek.

"Damn...fuck...that hurt...Sir."

"It was supposed to hurt boy."

And his hand crashed down twice more, even harder on the same cheek.

But before I could swear or curse, he lowered his lips to my ear..."if you make another sound, even a whimper, I'll cut your fucking balls off you fucker, or at least you'd wish they were gone."

So I shut up and I took my spanking...although I would probably call it a beating more than a spanking. It felt endless, relentless pain...one after the other, and always on the one cheek, in the same spot, over and over again.

By the end of it I was reduced to silent tears as I felt my right ass cheek get hotter and hotter. And then as quickly as the storm of pain began, it ended.

"Good boy." He whispered in my ear as he climbed off me and went around to sit in the chair behind his desk.

I dared not move a muscle.

After he was seated, he took his hand and lifted my tear streaked face up until I could look in those eyes again.

"So you see boy, one of the ways we could motivate Phillip was through corporal punishment. It was simple, he did his best, always, or he paid the price. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir" I responded, looking in to his eyes.

"And look at him now boy. Who knew that beautiful 118 pound twink was hiding inside that 368 pound behemoth who waddled through our doors a short two years ago or so. So when he starts to get lazy on a treadmill test that I'm supervising, you can bet that sweet red ass of yours that he's getting a beating until he performs to the level we all know he can. Understood?"

"Yes Sir, understood, Sir"

"Now sit down boy so I can run through what I have planned for you. Then you can decide whether or not you truly are cut out to be the Jack Of Spades you claim to be."

So I did.

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Tillinger:

Meanwhile, no matter how long I was kneeling there in the fiercest sun of the day, piss long ago dried but leaving me with an overpowering stench, watching poor confused Joey circle around on his bike, while newly confident Jarad just stood and watched me.

Why didn't I just get up and go inside?

These were kids watching me. They had no power over me.

But I knew I wouldn't be able to move until my Master came home, because that's what the beautiful black UPS god told me to do.

After a few moments Jarad walked over to me and unzipped the fly if his shorts.

"You're looking pretty warm there Mr. ÑÑÑÑ. Let's see if I can't cool you off a little."

Then he started to flood me with his piss.

"Don't do that!" Joey said getting off his bike and walking towards us.

"Why not? He's just a faggot. A faggot who serves his black betters."

"It's just not right, I don't think..." Joey weakly offered.

"Or is it because you want some of this for yourself Joey boy? You think I don't see how your eyes stare at me. Shit it freaks me out sometimes."

Joey just stares at his friend and then down at me, on my knees in front of him, piss dripping from my head and face.

And at that moment, my Master drives in the driveway.

But even that doesn't stop our Jarad. He just lets go with the rest of his piss and it's raining down upon me as I see my Master jump out of the car and storm his way over to where we are...

"What the fuck is happening here?" He yells as he grabs me by the arm and drags me to my feet.

Jarad just laughs as he puts away his big black cock.

"Chill out fag." He says to my Master as he gets on his bike and rides off laughing, Joey trailing behind like a lost puppy.

"What the fuck did he just call me?"

"I'm sorry Master."

"And what the hell were you thinking, kneeling out here in the open, so our neighbours can see you?"

"I'm sorry Master. It wasn't my fault."

"Wasn't your fault my ass. Now get inside and get downstairs."

I knew what that meant. Downstairs was the dungeon, Masters pride and joy. I ran inside and immediately turned to hold the door for Master.

"I said downstairs you bitch!"

I scurried downstairs as quickly as I could to set up the dungeon for Master. Lights on but dimmed, incense lit, cupboards unlocked and doors open, then I took my spot in the middle of the room, on my knees, before Master's chair. Eyes down, shoulders bowed, mind empty. So I breathed in and out, trying to slow down my heart rate as much as I can.

"You better not stink of another man's piss when I get down there boy!" Master calls from the top of the stairs.

So I leap into action and grab the industrial soap from my cell and turn the hose on high in the corner. The water is freezing down here but I'm used to it. In two minutes flat I have scrubbed the smell of Master UPS God and Jared off of me. But I barely make it back to my position before I hear Master's footsteps making their way down the stairs.

My well tuned ears know that he is wearing his steel-toed black leather work boots. When he enters the room I know better than to look at him. Instead I see his booted feet in front of my lowered eyes as he takes his seat.

Instinctively, because of the way I was trained, as soon as Master is seated I lean forward to kiss his boots. But he stops me by placing the sole of his other boot against my forehead and pushes me over onto my back.

"What makes you think I am even going to let those lips touch my boots until you tell me where they've been today and why you so blatantly broke the rules of my household slave?"

I say nothing because I don't know what to say.

"Talk slave! What the hell happened?"

So I explained to my Owner what had happened. About the UPS God who came to make a delivery and I answered the door as Master taught me to with a sheet wrapped around me. I told him how the UPS driver, ripped the sheet off of me because he believed slaves should answer the door naked no matter what. I told him how he saw my Jack Of Spades tattoo and when he asked me if my Master was white I told him yes.

"Shit." Master muttered.

I stopped my explanation and waited for instructions.

"I can almost guess what happened next" Master said. "But go on slave."

"When he saw the tattoo and I told him you were white, that was when he backhanded me for not getting on my knees in front of a superior man. So i did it Master, I didn't know what else to do. You know the way I was trained Sir."

"Yeah, Yeah, I know how you were trained bitch."

"I'm sorry Master. I can't help it. I can't help my training."

"I know boy...I know..."

I hated it when I was a disappointment to my Master.

"So how did you end up out front of everybody in the neighbourhood with a kid pissing on you."

So I explained how the UPS God told me to crawl out in front of the house because he wanted me to drink his piss. How he pissed all over me and then told me to stay out front on my knees until you came home.

"Then while I was waiting for you Sir, the two young guys noticed me and asked me why I was out there like that? And just then the UPS God drove back in the driveway to make sure I hadn't moved or gone back inside."

Master just shakes his head..."And?"

"And then he made me explain my tattoo to Jared. He said it was my duty as a Jack Of Spades to educate the next generation on the New World Order and the place that Whites and Blacks will have in it."

I waited for Master to say something, but he didn't.

"So then he told Joey and Jared to watch me until you came home, which they did."

"And young Jared ended up pissing on you how exactly?" Asked Master.

"Just before you came home Jared just walked over and started pissing on me."

Master stared down at me for a moment. He knows me so well.

"And did it taste good, young Master Jared's piss?"

I blushed openly and turned my gaze to the floor.

"Answer me boy!"

"Yes, Master, his urine tasted delicious Sir."

"And the UPS guy's piss?"

"Like nectar Sir. Like a nectar of the gods." I had to be honest. I was addicted to drinking black men's piss. Even if I'm just being showered with piss, like I was by UPS God or Jared, I always tried to drink as much as I could.

Master just stared down at me and shook his head back and forth.

"Stand up slave." He ordered. Which I did. Master strapped ankle restraints on me and attached them to a wide spreader bar. This was then attached to a winch that hung down from the ceiling of the dungeon. Master then went to the corner of the dungeon and started cranking the winch until I was inverted and hanging from the ceiling by my ankles. Master then strapped wrist restraints on me and chained those over my head to the floor. Then I watched as he went to the cupboards and carefully chose my instrument of torture. Much to my chagrin he chose the cane. I steeled myself for the pain.

"Okay boy, you're going to get 30 strokes tonight. 10 on your back for choosing to step outside naked, against my rule not to; 10 on your ass for answering to another Master's orders over mine; and 10 on your chest for drinking another man's piss without my permission."

"Yes Sir." I resign myself to the excruciating pain that is coming my way.

But before he begins he notices the writing on my back.

"What the hell is this on your back bitch?"

"The UPS God wrote something on my back before he dragged me outside Master. He told me to make sure I asked you to read it as soon as you got home."

"And did you do that slave?"

"No Master, I forgot. I'm sorry Sir."

And without warning the cane landed hard on my back.

"Ahhhh!!"

"You don't think this note might have been important slave?"

And again the cane landed heavy across my back, but I managed to not cry out, just breathe deeply and ride the wave of pain.

Then Master got a piece of paper and wrote down what was on my back.

"You almost washed it off you stupid cunt. You're lucky he wrote it in permanent ink."

Then Master moves around to my front, unzips his fly and stuffs his cock down my throat. Now usually I love sucking my Master's cock. But this was different. This was all about his rage. I tried to breathe evenly as his cock got hard and crept down my throat. He was holding my head perfectly still as his cock got bigger and harder. Then he started to really ram my throat.

"Slave fucker this isn't about me using you as my slave. This is just about me re-marking my territory. I'm gonna dump this load down your throat where it can commingle with that black piss you like so much."

And then he slammed my face against his groin, over and over again. He didn't care how much he was hurting me; if he was breaking my nose as he pummelled my face as he throat fucked me mercilessly. Until finally he roared like an animal as he mashed my face into his body and dumped his load way down in my throat.

When he was done, he pulled out quickly. And on his way out of the dungeon he flicked the switch on the electric cinch and my body quickly fell back to the ground where I lay trying to catch my breath, tasting the blood as it flowed from my nose, back into my throat. I felt brutalized and beaten. But my dick was hard as a rock as I laid there catching my breath. Then the whole day came crashing in on me and it was too much for my slave body to handle and I convulsed twice and shot a huge load all over my naked chest.

Then I unhooked myself from the spreader bar, untied the wrist and ankle restraints, slowly got to my feet, checked in the bathroom mirror for damage, then made my way to my cell, locking myself in, and throwing the keys across the room.

I thought I would fall asleep, but my brain was working too much. What was written on my back? What was my Master doing with the information? Will I ever see the UPS God again? Will Jared ever use my mouth as his toilet again?

Too many questions. And me with a hard dick again, already...

TO BE CONTINUED...

I hope you are enjoying this story so far. If you are drop me a note at jacobwiseass@outlook.com

Any suggestions for future encounters, drop me a line as well.

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