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YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 84
Second book : YOU BELONG TO JOBAL PART 31 - another man
Po was standing behind me, touching me, pressing himself against my sore backside and gently stroking the places where he had left red marks; just basically giving me time to recover. And I tried to show him I wanted it, arching my back and opening my buttocks as much as I could, like, 'Please, fuck me!' Cause it was! It was that heavy - like real heavy: my whole body like pulsating with pain and terror - and he could feel it, shaking and panting and almost my legs giving ... but I was still trying to show him I wanted it. Yeah? Cause it felt REAL yeah? Like I was alive, real and desired, real and owned for real by a real man who had used me completely, who would do anything he wanted, whatever it was, because I had disappeared completely into his fantasies.
I know what you think, but I didn't want it to be a dream. I didn't want to wake up. I didn't want it. I wanted it to be there with him and the both of us focused on something so important it couldn't be linterrupted.
Yeah. Well, that's when there was a noise on the intercom, haha. No, there was! "Oh right," said Po like waking up suddenly, "That'll be him."
His hands stopped moving.
"You better be good."
His hands left my body and his crotch stopped touching, like it was cold, and I heard him pad gently to the door, his barefeet sticky on the shiny floor, and buzz someone in.
I waited. 'Something's going on,' I thought, obviously, but I didn't know what, obviously. And I couldn't do anything, obviously as well! But I heard the door opened and voices said something - these voices of Po and someone else, older than us, like in his 40s? I'd guess. I have no idea. It was a strong voice, in that it felt older and authoritative like that, but not so old it was decrepit or passed it. It was like an older version of Po - controlled but not like a father figure or anything; more like a stranger you might meet who is of an age that he knows exactly what he wants and is of an age that he is used to getting it. (As opposed to an old bloke who basically gets what he can, if you see what I mean. Sorry for over complicating it!)
"There you are," said Po to him, suddenly behind me.
Whoever it was didn't say anything.
"Go in there," said Po. "I'll bring him through ... Oh ... Oh yeah course ..."
"Can I just ...?" said the voice, this 'older' man.
"Feel free," said Po.
That's when I felt this hands on my bottom, feeling me up like Po had done and touching the sore places Po had made.
I could hear him breathing. "Hairier than I expected," he said.
"Yeah?" Po laughed. "That's what Jobal said! He must'a said," said Po.
"What's that? It's not what Urib said."
"I don't know what Urib said," said Po calmly.
"No matter. All good. And that experience - I can use that," the man said.
Po said like obviously we was all hairy cause that's just how it was, and well, Po didn't like me shaved cause, well, he liked that I was this masculine, an actual thing he could make out with and destroy and a man and all that, wasn't he? He said something like that.
And the man agreed and said it was like, real men fuck real men. That was it, and even when they had to be inferior men, well the HAD to be inferior men didn't they? cause they was subs serving their owners, grovelling for Superior Men, that was the natural way things should. And Po agreed. They was getting along like a house on fire!
Ok," he said. "Bring him in like I said, yeah? When I'm ready. Give it ..."
His hand left my buttocks. I heard him walk out of the room.
"Yeah," said Po.
He started cutting the tape off my ankles and wrists, then he taped my wrists together again, lightly, in front so they covered my prick (which kept coming back and going away like it could decide ...) I could see he was fully clothed now except for his beautiful feet.
He was concentrating on cutting the tape away and not looking at me.
"What's it like living the life of a slave?" he said while he was doing it. "You planning your escape all, 'I'm not a slave; I do what I want'? Do you? There's a man in there." He pointed the bedroom. "I want you to go in there and make him happy. Ok. Get ready: mouth rip!" He pulled the tape holding the pants gag in my mouth. "Good."
"Ththankyou Sir," I said, looking at him like if he would look kind, like he cared, but he was serious faced and that was it.
He went to the bedroom and took a look to see if this other man was ready cause apparently he was, yeah, cause then Po backed out and said to me, like, "Yeah. Yeah." - like, Go on then.
*** I stumbled forward, feeling the aches in my arms and back. I pushed on the door and there he was, sitting on the bed. He wasn't nothing special. I mean he was pretty normal. Middle aged man in a baggy leather jacket and jeans what were too tight for him. His arse made the mattress sink down and he crossed his feet in the worst trainers I have ever seen - like designer but bad designer. He had gold rings and a open neck shirt that looked like he thought he was John Travolta or something - hairy chest, but he was fat and it sort of filled his clothes and spilled out like it had nowhere else to go ...
I stood still, shivering, my hands taped together and all sore still from Po's beating, and my muscles ached.
He looked at me without speaking, kind of kindly but also serious and like I didn't matter to him except as a kind of ... nothing.
"You're going to make me happy yeah?" he said, like it was he wasn't sure about me. "Come here. You British?"
"Yes Sir," I said, not really know what he meant but like, I am British aren't I? I mean I do fucking live here like everybody else!
"That's good. I like a Brit slave. You guys know how to make men feel good when you sub to a Superior Man; it's in your blood. British men are like naturally know how to be inferiors. It's a historical thinf; slaves in their hearts. They don't know how to rule anything. They are fucking piece of shit yeah?"
"Yes Sir," I said.
I mean I don't know what all this is but I get it and I know what he means. I mean, there's Superior Men like Po and Jobal and they're British, so it's not cut and dried. But I know what he means. Look at Luke topping me but how is he really that much of a top? But Jake, he's totally top and he's British. So I'm confused. But I'm British as anyone else, whatever anyone's mum and dad, and I'm inferior. So I suppose that's his point. Fucked if I know what he was on about ... but I'm fucked anyways ...
... anyway ...
So I stepped closer. "Flat stomach, good. I don't like flab. Yeah I'm all this," he touched his flab and sort of flipped it, "but it's not about me is it? It's about you. I can afford it. That's what matters."
That's true, cause he was a Superior Man wasn't he?
He took my hands in one hand and touched my dick with his other hand. "What's this?" It seemed like a stupid question but I was frightened so I said, "It's it's my dick Sir."
He smiled in a serious way and said, "Oh is it? It isn't very big is it?"
I mean it was shrivelled cause of I was unsure, wasn't it? I mean ... and I didn't like it, and I was tired and I was upset and I didn't know if I was turned on - but I wasn't turned on yet - and it clearly didn't bother him. He played with my junk for a bit, squeezing it and stroking the fur around it. But it stayed soft.
"I I'm sorry Sir," I said. "Po doesn't want me to shave," I added, in case that was the problem.
"That's all right. It's not an issue at this stage," he said reassuringly. "Kneel here." I knelt between his Open legs. "Open your mouth." I opened my mouth and he gobbed a big into the back of my throat. "Swallow it.'
So I did. "Thank you Sir."
"That's good. Do you want to see my dick?"
"Y yes please, Sir," I said, cause I did want to see his dick.
"Go on then."
So I had to use my hands together, cause they was still taped, and like found his waist button and pulled the zip. It was quite difficult obviously cause his stomach as well, got in the way and I had to really pull and then dig to get his cock out. He wasn't helping me; just waited and sat there and let me struggle with it. When it came out it was one of those thick ones, thick at the base coming to a almost like a sharp pink point what with a bulging head like a real helmet, but pointed. And there was this precum oozing out of the foreskin already.
Meanwhile I think he was looking at me, at my arms and my back, cause he said, "What's happened here? Someone's been busy. Po do this?"
"He punished me Sir." "That sounds fun." "I deserved it Sir." "I bet you did." "I did Sir. I was bad Sir." "Bad? You make it sound dirty," he chuckled. "No bad as in disobedient and disrespectful," I said. "I doubt that. You enjoy being beaten I bet." "Yes Sir."
"I can see that. Your back's like a railway goods yard. All this stuff, crisscrossing ... here ... and here ..." He traced some of the lines. If he touched them it hurt. "You must like being hurt."
"Yes Sir I do Sir. I like if I'm punished cause that's how I need."
"Just as well you like it. Po's got quite the reputation. He's extremely violent, isn't he?"
"Yes Sir but ..." I checked myself.
I was trying to wank him with both hands tied together. His dick was hard but the skin was loose so it slid easily, squeezing out more precum and spreading it like a shiny slime all over the ripply shaft. And I think he was pretty excited even though he made out he was all calm and just watching ...
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END OF YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 84