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This is a fictional story, but if yu are a leather Master in search of a boot worshipping piss and cigar slave, please Sir get in touch
It was 10pm, I was on my second glass of piss of the night. There were around thirty men standing or sitting on stools, drinking beer, or spirits. Besides them thirty slaves, all kneeling.
Master explained the rules of the bar,
Submissives and slaves must always remain kneeling.
Masters can arrive and remain unaccompanied throughout their stay
Submissiveness must always be accompanied by a Master, those who arrive without one, will wait in the bar's changing area until claimed by a Master. Such submissivex undertake to pay for the drinks that their Master for the night consumes.
Unclaimed submissives are unable to leave and will remain after the bar has closed to assist in cleaning up.
Apparently some of the subs would come night after night and remain unclaimed. One in particular was disappointed when one night he was claimed by a Master who had come over from Germany.
But that wasn't all.The bar had a policy where submissives and slaves could only drink piss.
Master described how the urinal was linked to a tank where all that evening's piss was collected, bottled and would eventually find its way into the stomach of a sub. It was at the discretion of the bar man how fresh the piss was. My first glass of piss was less than 24 hours old, my second was at least two weeks. Anything older than a month was reserved for the use of Masters who needed to punish their slave.
I'll overlook your failure to wake me earlier, so there won't be that type of punishment tonight. Now drink up.
I looked up at Master from my kneeling position - and downed the remaining dark liquid that was in my glass, the acrid taste burning the back of my throat.
Let's go.
As we left I noticed four men kneeling, heads bowed, as a strapping leather man over six feet tall was giving his leathers a final flourish. I watched as he lit a thick, long cigar, one of the unclaimed had an almost Pavlovian response raising his head slightly to watch the head of the cigar glow in the flame of the lighter. A grin of recognition fell across the German's face, but before I could see who he chose , Master was at the exit, I hurried along, quickly to open the door and joined him into the dark of the Parisian night
A cab was waiting for us. I got up off my knees and opened the door, and got ready to be instructed to travel again in the boot. He tapped his hand on the seat besides him, I gratefully crawled in, and sat besides him. As the cab wound its way through the streets I realised that I was so grateful that I was owned, that I didn't have to worry about the stress of not having a Master to serve for the night. I had one I was hopefully going to serve for ever
As we entered the second bar Master attached a leash to my collar. I need to make sure that everyone knows that you are my property. I bent down and kissed both of his boots.
Thank you Master.
Drink?
Please Master
He undid his fly and offered me his dick.
I gently took it in my mouth and waited. It wasn't long before I felt his warm piss fill my mouth and worked its way in my stomach.
As the final drops fell on to my tongue, Master grabbed the back of my head and pulled it towards his groin.
Make me hard slave,
I used my tongue to lick the shaft, from the base to the tip, as it got harder he relaxed his grip allowing my caresses to cover a greater area. Soon it was fully engorged. His grip on my head tightend again as he began to face fuck me, there in the middle of the bar.
I felt a hand start rubbing my arse. I had o idea if Master had given permission for this so I didn't react, and continued to worship Master's beautiful cock. Suddenly he stopped.
He put his dick away, at the same time he firmly said "Non. "
We'll have to get back to that later he said.
Let's get some air. We headed to an outside area of the bar. Master led me to a corner.
Boots
I began to lick his boots. I tried to put the feeling of pride that I had selected such a great pair for the evening at the back of my mind.
Master looked good in all his boot's my role as a slave was to make sure that it was clear that he was a great Master by the way that I behaved whilst on the floor at his feet.
As my mouth began to fill with the flavours of leather and boot polish I heard the ignition of a lighter.
Ed , how are you?
The accent was German, it was the man I had seen earlier in the other bar making his choice for the sub for the night.
I looked over from my ground level position, there kneeling, with his mouth open was the sub who had twitched with excitement at the sight of the German lighting his cigar.
The subs mouth has a ball of ash balancing on his tongue.
Swallow said the German.
The sub closed his mouth and smiled broadly. He opened his mouth to demonstrate his obedience.
Guter Hund said the German as he took out another large cigar.
Found myself a fantastic ashtray slave tonight. This will be my third of the evening. He's not wasted a speck of ash yet.
This one here is a multi pur[ose slave, piss, and ash said Master. Pulling me up by the leash to expose my T shirt . At the same time he dropped a ball of ask into his glove and fed it to me.
Over the next thirty minutes, the two Master's smoked tiger cigars, whilst we subs waited to be fed. We had both been instructed to worship our Masters boots whilst remaining vigilant for treats of falling ash balls. Our heads banged together more than one in our eagerness to get to eat first. Disappointment in achieving the goal was short lived as another ball of ash from the other Master soon hit the floor.
Finally Master bid farewell. It's been a long day, and tomorrow is a long one too. And I need to get a decent blowjob off this one without him getting mauled and molested.
Say thank you for the ash.
Danke
Stop showing off, laughed Master a couple of Duolingo lesson and he thinks he's fluent
The German laughed as he bent over, and squeezed my mouth open and forced a ball of tobacco infused spit inside.
I need another piss
I opened my mouth
Not this time, stand up, let's visit the bathroom.
There was a short queue for a urinal, but a longer one for what was obviously the bar's resident piss slave. A chain from the porcelain one, linked to a chain around the human ones' neck.
Master, plumped for the porcelain, but as I watched the heavy flow exit and hit the bowl, thoughts of envy were matched with one of curiosity as I heard the human urinal speak in a vaguely familiar voice.