This is part 2 of a planned 9 part series.
This story series contains material dealing with some hard-core S&M gay sex. Please do not read if you are offended with such stories.
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So I replied to the e-mail with a profusion of thanks; I was being stupid, maybe, but I dared not ask any question. So when I didn't get any reply back, I thought, well maybe I made a mistake and should have asked at least one question. Days and then weeks went by with no response at all. It was a hoax, a prank perpetrated by smart-phone toting bored teenagers. But I refuse to believe this -- my gut feeling, or maybe my desperation, said this was for real. So, I e-mailed Sir Chief again, asking him how his search for other trainees was going. The next day after that e-mail, I got a response. I was relieved.
Sir Chief's e-mail almost sounded apologetic. Turns out Master Mayhem has had a death in the family and so the class was essentially canceled. Sir Chief said that he was, however, interested in training me himself. Just him and just me. The other applicants didn't make the cut, he said. That made me feel special, all the more excited. He then laid out the training program which he said has two stages: the preliminary tests (which would be as long as he wanted it to be) and the actual training (which would only occur if I pass the first stage). He gave the following rules:
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I was to obey all his command and to assume them accurate and complete.
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I was to e-mail Sir Chief twice a day, to greet him, to pay respect to him, I guess. First thing in the morning and another e-mail at night.
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I was to send an e-mail immediately after reading his email if I understood and agreed with the terms above.
I sent my email agreeing. Of course, I was horny as hell and jerked off again then.
The next few days, I sent Sir Chief my daily e-mails. Sometimes, he would respond with a couple of questions, which I would readily answer. Questions like what were my fantasies, pet peeves, etc. Sometimes, he would not respond to my e-mails at all. I quickly got used to the routine. It actually felt nice to be able to greet someone good morning -- I had missed that feeling.
One morning, before I sent my e-mail, Sir Chief already had an e-mail waiting for me. By the time I finished reading it, I was throwing a boner. Without any delay, I proceeded to do as instructed...
I went to the bathroom and fumbled about trying to peel off the layers of clothing I had on - I am one of those people who gets cold rather easily (It was in the middle of autumn and the apartment heating flaked out often - it did then). Despite the chill though, my cock was still hard as steel.
I was staring at myself in the mirror as I tried to insert my middle finger up my ass hole. I was so dry down there that my hole wouldn't give. I spat on my finger then tried again. This time, it went through. As instructed, I slipped my finger all the way in then wiggled it about inside. I don't think anything went up my ass before ever. So this was definitely a new sensation. It felt good actually. I could also feel the contours of a hard piece of shit. I pulled my finger out. Sure enough, there was a tiny piece of turd at the tip. Before I could hesitate ('coz I know I would), I placed m finger inside my mouth. I licked it clean just as instructed.
I wanted to gag. It was disgusting. Musky is a weak word, but it was also salty. I wanted to brush teeth and gargle right there and then but the instructions were explicit: I was to e-mail Sir Chief immediately after. I complied and explained in detail how I executed his commands. I couldn't control myself -- before I could even clean-up - I jacked--off. My jism went flying all over myself and the desk-- even between the keys of my keyboard. I cannot believe I did what I did. I hated myself, disgusted with myself, but, strangely, I was also giddy with these unexplainable feelings I was experiencing. I haven't seen Sir Chief yet but already I realized that I was virtually his.
---Thanks for all the e-mails, let me know what you guys think.