I had spent the last half hour on my knees , gently nuzzling Boss's left leg. He was standing at the bar , chatting to the barman, and a few of the other patrons who had also turned up early.
The sensation of just rubbing my forehead against his leg had sent me into a rather blissed out state, a state where I was yet again utterly comfortable with total submission. Boss was talking about the slave that he had left back in New York. A slave who was utterly devoted to serving its Master, I used the word its, as that how Boss described it, the slave was an animated object property, and thus was an it not a he or him.
He delighted his audience with how he had trained the slave so well that it could second guess a command by just a few gestures, or eye movements, days would often go by , and he'd not utter a word to it, and all commands were indicated by movement. Best of all , the slave was probably the best cock sucker in Chelsea.
So what about this one, I heard the barman ask, it's been ages since I saw him here, I knew he was a sub, but a slave?
Ah , Ed has lent him to me for the weekend.
So what is he tonight, dog, pig what. A multipurpose slave, he can only communicate with barks, but an occasional Oink may be forgiven. He rubbed the back of my bald shaved head with his gloved hand, sending a shiver of excitement throughout my body.
I heard his bottle of beer on the bar.
Finished? Same again? What about him. Piss? Suddenly another pair of legs appeared next to me, Boss turned my head, bent down, without saying a word made it clear what he expected.
I was to drink the barman's piss, I opened my mouth and waited.
Nothing happened, then I realised that I was expected to unzip the source of my drink.
I slowly unzipped the barman's leather trousers, and gingerly reached in and took out his flaccid dick. I let it fall into my mouth and waited.
A stream of piss soon filled my mouth, not wishing to be punished for inadvertently spilling a drop. I quickly gulped it down, it was soon full again, another quick swallow, this was repeated another three or four times. A tug at my ear told me that I was no longer required. I opened my mouth slightly and he withdrew his dick, but made sure any stray drops were shaken in my direction first.
Ok Boy, time to get some air. Being London there was no chance that we could smoke inside, so i followed him walking on all fours as he strode outside.
The first few minutes were spent with him getting reacquainted with old friends. As I remained almost motionless, the leash attached to my collar tightened as he pulled me up, a single finger pointed to a pair of boots. I watched a drop of spit fall from their owners mouth and hit them.
The pointing finger, an indication that I had to worship those boots, the tightness of the leash lessened as I crouched down, my arms widened to allow easy access , my arse further in the air. I began to eagerly worship the boots, knowing full well that there was a possibility i was being totally ignored as I did so, the hum of conversation above me indicated as much, not that I cared the boots presented to me were all that i needed at that moment heavy leather that reacted well to my spittle and saliva as I worshipped, from the toe to just below his knee, i have no idea how long I'd been doing this , but I was hit in the shoulder by a night stick, i looked up from my position, it was an instruction to turn on my back .
I obeyed and was rewarded with the treat of the Leatherman's boots in my face. A third man who I had not yet noticed crouched down, now boy get those pissy boots nice and clean.
My tongue got to work the boot was pressing down on my nose but i was still managing to I hope obey instructions and get the treads clean. As I did the third man firmly pressed his toot on my crotch, I could feel the metal of my cock cage dig into my flesh as he did so. For a brief moment I wished I was unlocked, as i could have begged hm to kick me, hard.
Finally both boots were finally biased, Boss grabbed me by the collar and pulled me closer to his leg, I inhaled the leather, I looked up and saw that he had not long lit a cigar, he dragged me over to a bench, and sat down i was know kneeling with my face looking at his crotch. He stick put a finger of his free hand and offered it to me, I began to fellate it, gently at first but then i increased the pace, as if it was his dick, Wow boy, I cant wait to get my dick down your throat.
At that moment however there were two things on my mind, making sure I did a perfect job of worshipping what were now two fingers, and the wondrous beauty of the cigar, the way that it sat in Boss's mouth , the puffs of smoke and the glow of red and the increasing tip of ash. He with drew his hand the leather fingers slick with my saliva, he tapped the cigar into the palm of his hand. I waited briefly before enveloping the still intact lump with my mouth and swallowing it. A slight heat hit my tongue, which i stuck out , looked at Boss and smiled.
He then began to rub the palm of his hand into my face, the scent of leather and tobacco filling my nostrils.
The released his hand, and I saw t that the hand holding his cigar tapping at his left thigh. Again without any verbal instruction I approached and began to worship this small area of leather, inhaling the smell, and relishing the fact I was close to Boss's dick, a dick I could see straining against the leather.
He pushed my head back and tapped another ball of ash where I had just been worshipping, I left less of a gap this time before devouring, and stayed in position whilst I returned to worshipping, I could feel the heat of the cigar at the back of my head as he rested his cigar holding hand up on it, small flecks of ash fell, their heat searing themselves on my skin.
Finally he lifted my head up, my eyes were focused on the now shorter cigar behind that Boss's dark eyes, pools of blackness that looked into my soul. He tapped my chin, I opened up as he tapped the last ball of ash directly onto my tongue. The pain was cancelled out by the joy of serving such a great man.
He indicated that I was to again open my mouth, on doing so he stuck the cigar into in and pushed my jaw closed, and made a face indicating that I was to chew. I did this for a couple of minutes the taste of nicotine filling my mouth, he offered me his hand , and I spit the remain of the cigar into it.
I knelt there, my mouth now empty , earning for more ash, when the man who I had earlier silently begged to kick me hard in the balls undid his zip.
Let's wash that taste away boy.
His dick filled my mouth, and began to empty his bladder.