
This cross-ethnic story contains sexual exchanges and activities between adult males, 
both consensual and semi-consensual, and scenarios involving punishment/torture, 
bondage, domination/submission, humiliation, and exhibitionism. If you detest such 
things or if it's illegal for you to do so, please stop reading right now. Otherwise, 
enjoy!

This story is about a submissive gay asian male who was a virgin but had been playing 
around with online Masters for a few years before he finally met a 'perfect' caucasian
dom who was willing to make the plane trip to see his 'perfect' sub and turn all his 
fantasies into reality..

Comments and suggestions welcome at: sub_casey@yahoo.com.



Master's Visit
(M/m, oral, anal, toys, reluc, interr, master/slave, humil, exhib)

by Casey



I stared out the window as the taxi began to make its way to the airport, but in 
reality little of the scenery made any impression on me. As sprawling shopping malls 
and lofty skyscrapers and later broad groves of trees and green fields pass us by, all 
I could think of were the words in Master Steffen's last email which I received two
days ago.

"You will take a taxi to the airport and meet me there. You will be wearing your
buttplug the whole time. Once I arrive, you will greet me normally and help me carry
my bags. We will head straight for the public toilets. There, you will enter the same
stall as me, and immediately take off all your clothes. I wish to inspect my little
slutslave immediately. I will check your slutmouth, your boycunt, your nipples, your
ears, every inch of you. Once I am satisfied, I will let you suck my cock until I am
hard. Then I will take out the buttplug and give you your first fucking by your Master,
right there in the stall. You will not make a sound (but later in our hotel room you 
must make as much sound as possible, I want to hear it) and accept it quietly until I 
shoot my first load inside you. It will be far from the last load you will have to take
on that day. Then you will pop the buttplug back in, making sure to keep all of my 
mancum inside you. Once you put on your clothes we will take a taxi to the hotel. In 
the taxi, you will sit close to me so that I can reach over and play with your buttplug
for the whole trip."

Those were more or less Master Steffen's exact 'words', and only from the first
paragraph in the email. There were many more paragraphs, each describing to me how he
would proceed to use me during the next five days in minute, exquisite detail. He 
stated the things he would do to me in a concise, matter-of-fact manner that assumed I
had no choice in the matter, making me feel completely helpless and aroused. My throat 
had gone dry just reading that first paragraph, and my cock had lengthened quickly at 
the feelings it invoked. I found it hard to sleep, and my waking moments were filled
with images of me being manipulated in his hands. This morning I woke up with a hard-on
that didn't seem to ever want to subside. Giving myself an enema without touching my 
cock had been hard. Stuffing my straining member into my frilly, white girly panties
was even harder. As I sat for breakfast in the kitchen, I found that I barely touched
my food. My Master's callously confident words played over and over in my head, teasing
me with their promises of depravity. When the taxi arrived, it seemed to make the words
ring louder in my ears in endless echoes.

I was barely aware of the 40-minute drive as such thoughts occupied me completely. As
the taxi neared my destination, I could feel my heart thudding loudly in my chest and
my knees weakening in anticipation. I wasn't ordinarily a meek person, but I could 
virtually feel my outer layer of dignity and self-assurance disappearing, evaporating
as the inevitability of our meeting loomed ever closer before me. By the time the taxi
pulled over at the International Arrivals lobby, I felt so helpless and submissive
that I felt naked any time a passing man looked at me. Any of them could probably have
come over, torn my clothes off and fucked me right there and then and I would only 
be able to moan in lustful surrender as hundreds of eyes looked on. The brown, cock-
shaped buttplug buried inside my hole twiched. Without laying a single hand on me yet,
Master Steffen had me achingly primed and ready to be taken completely by him.

The plane arrived on time, and barely 10 minutes after I found my way to the correct
gate. I had squeezed my way to the front of the waiting people, and was scanning the
stream of passengers as they made their way into the arrivals hall with a mixture of
anticipation and trepidation. My nervousness was two-fold. One, I was undeniably
scared at the thought of handing over control of my life to another person for the
next five days. Although it had been my fantasy for many years, this was the first
time that I'd actually went ahead and agreed to any such thing. Two, underlying that 
fear was anxiety at the possibility that my Master might find me not as attractive as
he'd expected. True, over the course of our cyber-relationship I had sent him numerous
pictures of myself, mostly in compromised positions taken using the timer function
on my digital camera. I had also cammed for him several times, though not as often as
he'd have liked. But I knew that finally seeing someone in person was a very different
thing altogether, and I really, really didn't want to disappoint him.

The passengers continued to pass me by, sometimes in large groups and sometimes in
small trickles. But still I saw nothing of my Master. Could it be that he cancelled
the trip at the last minute? Or maybe I was waiting at the wrong gate? I was confident
that I did not miss him, since I'd had his face memorised from the couple of pictures
he sent me of it.

Finally, I spotted him. My Master was bringing up the rear of the disembarking
passengers while idly chatting with a pair of stewardesses, who were both laughing at 
something he said. Unexpectedly, a pang of jealousy filled me, but I quickly stamped it 
out, reminding myself that it was not my place to feel such things. My Master was
dressed in a white shirt and full business suit - after all, he was supposed to be here
on business, although the business part didn't start until next week. He was even
bigger and taller in person than in the picture, and no picture would ever completely
capture the sense of command and authority that he exuded even at this distance. I
could feel my heart beating hard as I waited for him to notice me. As he accompanied 
the two girls down the aisle, his eyes roamed his surroundings casually. When they saw 
me, he paused, but gave me no further acknowledgement. I remained where I was as he
took his leave from the stewardesses, dread rising slowly in me at the possibility that
he was disappointed. The girls laughed and waved at him. And then he was walking 
straight towards me.

And then, the moment that I've waited for and dreaded for weeks arrived. Master
Steffen stood directly in front of me. Despite his instruction to greet him normally,
all I could do was stare down at my shoes, my shoulders trembling slightly.

"You're prettier in person than I thought," I heard him breathe down at me from his
towering height. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you in and using that beautiful body of
yours all week long."

My knees turned to jelly. Oh God, this was it. There was no escape for me now. My life
would change forever.

"T.. Thank you, Sir," I stammered after a few seconds.

"Well, I had thought that we'd skip those until the hotel, but I guess that you
couldn't really wait to be mine, could you? That's fine. It pleases me. Now show me
the way to the toilets."

As he said those words, he handed the bigger of his two baggages to me. It was not as
heavy as I expected - it must have contained his clothes. The other, which must have
been his briefcase, he kept to himself.

I nodded and turned to lead the way. As I did so, he smiled and slapped me familiarly
on my bottom. The slap landed squarely on the buttplug inside me, making me gasp and 
lurch on my feet. I could not help but glance around surreptitiously to see if anyone 
had noticed, but there was no one else nearby. As I began to walk, I kept steeling 
myself for more of the slaps, but they never came.

There was one set of toilets not very far from us, about fifty meters away to our 
left. I recalled that the airport had many toilets, so with luck this one might even 
be unoccupied. As I walked towards it with Master Steffen's luggage in one hand and my
Master himself hot on my heels, his words came to me again. His firm, commanding words
that brooked no disagreement. We would enter a stall in the toilet. I would undress to
my bare skin and he would inspect every inch of my body. Then, I would suck his cock.
After that, he would fuck me. Fuck me. Right there in the public toilet of an airport
which at any time contained thousands of other people. And I've never been fucked
before. My steps faltered as my heart beat even faster at the thought, and when I 
resumed walking I found that they were far from steady. If my Master noticed any of it,
he kept his thoughts to himself.

As luck had it, the toilet was indeed deserted. There were four stalls in it, apart
from several sinks and urinals. As we entered, I hesitated and half-turned towards my
Master with a question in my eyes. "The farthest one," he told me. "Here, take this,"
he said as he handed me his briefcase. "I want to take a piss first."

I took the briefcase and made my way slowly towards the far stall. My heart was 
pounding away in my ears like a runaway train. I heard the sound of a zipper as Master
Steffen stepped in front of one of the urinals, then his voice calling out firmly.

"Get in there but don't lock the door. I want all your clothes off by the time I come
in there. Stand with your feet apart, hands behind your back. Now move it."

The words pummelled me, turned my world up-side-down. I could barely hang on to the
bags as I shuffled forward on my jellied knees. In the back of my mind I was thankful
that there was no one else around, or my shame would have been complete. But the
thought made barely an impression on me as the full extent of Master Steffen's orders
crashed down on me. Apart from doctors, no one else had ever seen my body completely
naked in person in my young adult life (I was 22), and certainly none in a sexual way 
or with such frighteningly sexual intent. I had no interest in girls, so I was a 
virgin in that sense, but my previous sexual experiences with men also revolved mostly
around mutual jack-off or sucking sessions. I'd never been 'inspected' and it'd never
felt as if my partner had grand, detailed sexual designs on me. But with Master 
Steffen, I knew this was only the first in a long line of sexual uses he had in store 
for me. And I had been forewarned of most of them in great, excruciating detail.

My hand trembled badly as I fumbled the door closed. I had to force myself to stop as
my hand reached automatically to lock the door. I turned around to look for a place to
put the bags on. Luckily, there was a sort of shelf built into the back of the stall 
at about waist high, and here I carefully deposited the bags. I turned around to face
the door again. Oh my God. I had to put one hand on the wall to steady myself as the
thought of what I was about to do pushed all other thoughts from me. This was very
unlike all those pictures, all those sessions with the webcam where I had stripped for
one Master or another, secure in the knowledge that they were too far away to do much
more than oggle at me from afar. Oh, they also told me in detail of the things they'd
do should they ever get their hands on me, and those had been the stuff of my dreams
and self-fuck fantasies for many years, but there there was little danger of them
coming true. But this time it was different. Master Steffen really was out there and
taking a piss as he waited for me to strip and present my naked body into his hands.
And oh the things he planned to do with it.

I started with my shirt. Despite the air-conditioning it was wet with perspiration, 
and so were my fingers as they started to fumble with the buttons. It took two or
three tries to undo most of them. I pulled my shirt out of my pants, folded it
somewhat and placed it by the two bags on the shelf. The air was cool on my skin but I
could see tiny beads of sweat all over my chest and stomach. My hands hesitated at the
buckle of my belt and then undid it slowly, thinking of how my Master was out there
listening to the sounds, and of the thoughts that he was having about me. I could no
longer hear the sound of piss spattering onto a urinal, so he must have finished and
was just giving me more time. I pushed my zipper down hurriedly and shrugged myself
out of my pants, only then realising that I still had my shoes and socks on. I pried
off the former with my toes and then peeled the socks off my feet before depositing
them on the shelf under my shirt and pants. I hesitated again when it came to my white
panties. Then, off they came, too. As I bent over and pushed them down my legs, the 
waistband snagged once at the base of my buttplug, and I had to suppress a moan.

I spread my feet a little and forced my hands together behind my back. The mere
thought of having to put myself in such a humiliating position at the orders of 
another man was almost too much for me. I stiffled a sudden urge to cry at the depth
of the helplessness I felt; I knew it was only going to get worse. I could feel hot
shame suffusing my cheeks and most of the rest of my body. I glanced down once at my
little dick. It was soft and shrivelled, filled with the same shame.

It was almost a shock when the door finally opened inwards.

I had to force myself still as my hands itched to jerk forward and cover my groin or
grab the door to slam it back shut. Even in that flash of panic, I wondered if the
latter would do any good with Master Steffen's beefy hand holding the door firmly open
against the wall. For a few nerve-rending moments, My Master stood outside, his eyes
roving up and down my body as if I was some prime meat hanging by a hook at the 
butchery. He looked at me as if he was inspecting a thing, not a person, that had been
placed on a rack in some souvenir store. It only doubled my shame and made me look
down, as if his gaze had stripped me to my bare soul. But only a moment later I was
forced to look up again, as a sound came from the main door signalling that someone
else was coming in. I looked into my Master's eyes, pleading wordlessly for him to 
come in and close the door with my almost tear-stricken eyes, my fingers twitching 
helplessly at my back. I was very close to whimpering.

For a moment, my Master merely held my gaze and licked his lips, but as the newcomer's
footsteps came closer and panic began to overwhelm me and reduce me to a babbling 
wreck, my Master stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The sound of the lock 
kicking in was like a benison to me.

I was panting hard, and Master Steffen made the hushing gesture, forcing me to swallow
my panic and try to breathe normally again. I tried to reassure myself that the
stranger hadn't noticed the hungry look on my Master's face and therefore had no 
reason to suspect anything, and then I heard the sound of piss again, and my tension 
subsided somewhat. For a moment, Master Steffen merely looked down impassively at my 
trembling form. Then he caught hold of my bared heaving shoulders and leaned closer so
that his mouth was speaking directly into my ear.

"I like seeing you this way," he whispered. "It makes your chest perk up and your face
look even prettier."

I stared ahead at his business suit, not knowing how to respond but also feeling my 
body colour up even more.

"But you've got to trust me," my Master continued. "I wouldn't do anything to you that
you wouldn't like."

But something in his voice told me that what I _would_ like was really completely up 
to him.

"Now stand up straight so that I can inspect my little slutslave properly."

It was the first time he called me that name in person instead of over webcam, and I
felt a twinge inside me, as if he had plucked on a particularly sensitive nerve.

My Master began the inspection by grabbing a fistful of my medium-short hair and 
turning my face to the left. He spent some time scrutinising my right ear closely, and
then moved on to the left one as he turned my head the other way. Then he jerked my
head backward so that I was looking up at him, and continued the inspection by staring
into my now watering eyes, and then my nose. He was actually looking inside my 
nostrils, and I was glad that some sort of intuition had made me clean them in the 
morning. Then Master Steffen ran his other hand slowly up my neck, stroking my slender
throat delicately. "Nice and tight, but we'll break that open in no time," he breathed
at me.

I was starting to pant again but he motioned for me to keep quiet. "Open your mouth,"
he ordered.

I opened my mouth and immediately his fingers were inside. At first he used only one
hand but then brought both his hands to my mouth. He used them to pry my mouth open
as widely as possible, and as I involuntarily let out a couple of deep-throated 'aahs'
of protest I thankfully heard the main door open and then slam shut. My Master didn't
pause, and only eased up on me once he'd judged that I could keep my mouth at a jaw-
busting, satisfying 'O'. "We'll have to work on that, too," he said in a louder voice.
"Wouldn't do to have your jaws cramp up while sucking my big cock, especially as you'd
be spending several hours a day doing just that."

I whimpered as my legs threatened to fold under me.

Master held up my face with one hand as his other hand probed all over the insides of
my mouth. He was also staring deep into it as his fingers stroked the insides of my
cheeks, ran over the ridges of my mollars and gums and played with my tongue. After a
while, he grunted in satisfaction and wiped his drool-coated fingers on my chest. His
other hand let go of my chin. "Up," he barked as he nudged at my arms. Obediently, I
lifted my arms high above my head and held them there.

He ran his big hands down my slender upper arms and paused just above my armpits. "You
shave those?" He inquired.

I shook my head. He nodded approvingly. "Hmm. Naturally smooth, just like the rest of
you. I like that. Although, the first thing you'll have to do at the hotel, is to make
sure that every single hair not on the top of your head is gone, starting with this."
As he said that, he grabbed the single long hair on my right armpit and ripped it, 
roots and all, from under my skin. I had to suppress a shocked scream, but still could
not prevent a long low moan from escaping my lips. For a moment, all I could think of
was my throbbing armpit. Miraculously, I still had both arms up in the air, although
my Master had to nudge my right arm straighter. But I thought I detected something 
that looked like approval in his eyes. Suddenly, his approval seemed to become 
something important to me.

My Master had shifted his attention to my chest. His big hands and thick fingers began
to knead my flesh, and not very gently. I had to grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes
shut to keep from cyring out. "Soft with just a hint of muscle," my Master mused to 
himself. "Just the way they should be." As his left hand continued to massage my right
breast, his other hand found my left nipple and flicked at it softly with a thumb. I
moaned softly. "Touchy there, eh?" my Master grinned. "I'm gonna have a lot of fun
with these. Look at how they're perking up in the cold. And it looks like they're not
the only ones perking up!" I didn't have to look down to know that my dick had started
to get hard. My nipples had always been very sensitive, and apart from rubbing my cock
directly it was the second easiest way to give me a stiffie. "It's a good start, boy,"
my Master said as he proceeded to pinch and twist my nipples to my strangled moans.
"But before I'm done with you I'd expect your little clit to stand to attention the
moment I enter the same room with you. It must learn to show respect to the man who
owns it and the rest of your body."

Master Steffen continued his inspection by stroking my belly. "Slim and taut," he
murmured approvingly. "And such a cute little belly-button, too." The words made me
feel like a schoolboy being inspected by the headmaster. In fact, to a bystander, it
could easily have looked that way, with my small frame, slender limbs, boyish face and
all. Master Steffen had always called me his cute, slutty little slaveboy in our 
emails or chat sessions, from the moment he got my stats (22/54/5'2"). I could still 
remember how excited he was at finally finding the sort of 'boy' that he'd always 
dreamed of, and how excited I was at finding a Master who seemed to know exactly how 
to treat me. 

The memories were forgotten as Master Steffen ran his fingers down my sides, from just 
under my armpits to the flare of my hips, sending tiny electric jolts into my skin and
eliciting another moan from me.

"Turn around."

I obeyed, carefully avoiding the toilet bowl as I turned. Master Steffen repeated the
earlier caress but this time at the end of it his hands rested for a time on the 
protruding beginnings of my bubble-buns. I thought I heard him let out a long sigh. 
Then the hands were gone again.

"Squat."

I hesitated, my cheeks flaming with humiliation again, but before he could repeat the
command I was bending my knees and lowering my torso.

"Lower. Legs further apart."

I let out a wordless mew and shifted my feet farther apart until I looked as if I
wanted to take a shit. I lowered my upper body until my half-hard dick brushed against
the white porcelain of the bowl. In this position, I had to squeeze my ass every few
seconds to prevent the buttplug, which was making itself felt very distinctively now,
from slipping out and falling onto the tiled floor. Apparently, Master Steffen was
aware of my predicament for shortly I felt a gentle pressure on the plug. Well, 
pressure was too strong a word. He wasn't helping me to push the buttplug back in.
Instead, he was simply letting his fingers rest on the base, letting them feel the 
jerking movements as I 'winked' the rubber back in and the slower glides as it simply
tried to slide its way back out. Then, suddenly, he grabbed the base and gave the plug
a hard twist until it was facing the opposite way from where it started. I moaned
loudly enough that I had to bite my lip before I alerted anyone passing outside. For
a few moments my asslips clenched hard around the neck of the plug, but then it began
to slide slowly out again.

"Too hungry," my Master murmured. "Your hole is too hungry. And the plug's too small."

Too small? I thought in protest. The plug was five inches long and as thick as my
cock, which I thought was average-sized for asians. But with the thought also came
pictures of not so small cocks, mostly caucasian and black cocks that I'd found on
the Internet. Master had also sent me several close-ups of his own cock, which he told
me was a full nine-inches long and as thick as my forearm. It sounded impossibly big,
and the thought of seeing something that big in person sounded more like a fantasy 
than something real. But here I was with my fantasies being turned into stark reality
faster than I could adapt to.

"Luckily for you, I brought a few presents that will take care of that. Stand up and
turn around."

Presents? I thought as I obeyed. Oh yeah, Master Steffen promised to bring me some
more toys. He'd seen me use all of my own and thought that I deserved more suitable 
ones. "Those are fine," he'd told me over the chat. "But they won't help to prepare 
you for real cocks."

"Lower that lid and sit on it," my Master commanded me while motioning toward the lid
of the toilet bowl. I reached behind me, lowered the lid and then slowly lowered my
buttocks onto the seat. My actions caused the buttplug to dig further into me, making
its blunt head push against my innards. I shifted around a little uncomfortably as I
tried to minimize the sensation.

Master Steffen moved closer to me until his crotch was directly in front of my face.

"Unzip my pants and take my cock out. You know what you have to do."

My hands trembled visibly as they reached slowly towards my Master's pants. When the
backs of my fingers brushed against the expensive material, I could clearly feel the
presence of something big and long and steel-hard behind the cloth and it almost made
me shudder. Awkwardly I began to fish around inside my Master's fly for the head of
the zipper. The thing slid easily down its tracks. I pushed my right hand tentatively
into the opening and found that my Master was wearing boxers. With trepidation, I
reached further in, slipping my hand through the boxers' open fly. Despite myself,
when my fingers came into contact with my Master's cock, they flinched.

"Don't be scared," my Master assured me. "Take it out and show it how much you like
it."

I forced my hand deeper and found what felt like the thick end of a baseball bat in
those boxers. I think I must've gasped in surprise. My fist could barely encircle half
its girth. Trying to pull it out also felt like trying to pull out a baseball bat, as
it was almost impossible to manouvre it around in the confines of the boxers and pants.
Whenever I thought I'd almost freed it, I found that there was always more of it and
the angle I'd chosen would not let me pull it out completely. I think that was the
first time I fully appreciated just how well-endowed my new Master really was, and how 
much trouble I was going to be in, having to be the subject of that monster-between-
his-legs' attention for the next several days. Finally, after much twisting and
grunting, I managed to free my Master's cock from his pants. The sight of that huge
thing uncoiling through his open fly made my jaw drop. My eyes must've gone wide as
saucers.

My Master grabbed the back of my neck and brought my face closer to his crotch. I 
barely managed to open my mouth in time as his big tool drove inexorably toward my 
face. The first touch of its throbbing head on my lips and then my tongue made me
whimper with utter slaveboy bliss. "Hhnnnnggmmm," I exhaled with fulfillment as more
of the flared head forced its way in. Unfortunately, Master Steffen's cock was simply
too big for me, and even with my jaws stretched to the limit (or so I thought at the
time), I was having trouble taking much more of it. I think I had at most three inches
inside my mouth before Master Steffen eased up the pressure on the back of my neck.

"That's ok for now. You'll have plenty of training to swallow every last inch of my
cock later. Now start sucking, but quietly."

The thought of the whole length of that thick sausage buried in my throat sounded
comical. It'd never happen. But I said nothing as I began to use my tongue to massage
the underside of Master Steffen's cock and then my lips to form an airtight clamp
around the pulsing shaft before applying as much suction as I could on it without
producing too much noise. To my stimulated senses, Master Steffen's cock felt and
tasted heavenly inside my mouth. Despite my nervousness, it felt right to have that
cock in my mouth, throbbing and pulsing as I pleasured it. My hands wrapped themselves
around the parts that were still outside - and there was enough for both hands not to
overlap! - and began to squeeze and pump the immense organ as I continued to suck on
it.

"Much better than licking your computer screen at images of my cock, wouldn't you
say?" I knew my Master was refering to those sessions in which he'd put his cock up
against his webcam at which point I'd start to lick and slobber all over my computer
screen at the big images of his tool slithering around. He liked seeing how much I
wanted to worship his cock. I agreed wholeheartedly but was too preoccupied to respond.
But I did notice that the feeling of my Master's cock in my mouth had gone far beyond
merely physical pleasure. I was in awe of it, humbled by its power. Before it, I was
not worthy to be a human being. I wanted to serve it completely and continuously, be
its slave, obey its every whim. I knew then that I'd be a loyal worshipper at the 
altar of his cock for the rest of my days.

I found myself hugely disappointed when Master suddenly pulled his cock out of my
mouth.

"Stand up and turn around. Then bend over and grab the shelf with both hands."

I let out a small moan and moved quickly to obey. I was now almost feverish for sex.
As I leaned forward, I arched my back so that my bubble-butts were presented in the
most lewd and protruding manner to my Master, as if inviting him to do his worst. I
was proceeding to thrust my body up on tiptoes to tease him even more when he suddenly
grabbed the buttplug and yanked it quickly out of my ass. I gasped and grunted hard as
I felt cool air entering my hole. For a moment, my hole stayed open and pulsing 
angrily, before natural reflexes caused my sore sphincter muscles to squeeze together 
again. But the plug had been in too long and I could feel that my hole was still 
rather loose. Master Steffen grabbed hold of my waist and brought what felt like a 
finger to my hole. I squirmed.

"Stay still, boy," my Master admonished me.

The finger jabbed into my ass, causing my back to arch in protest. The finger entered
me easily, sinking to the second knuckles in no time. Master Steffen wiggled it around
inside me, rubbing the tip all over the inner linings of my guts. Then he took the
finger out, but before I could breathe my relief he had stabbed my boyhole again, this
time with two fingers instead. He jammed both fingers to the base and proceeded to
work my ass over with them, pressing and hooking and rotating them like a drill. It
felt like he was trying to carve my insides out. He was also pushing his fingers apart
repeatedly, as if forcing my hole to open wider. Within seconds I was moaning
uncontrollably, my arms shaking feebly and barely able to support my weight. He worked
my ass over like this for what seemed like hours, until I could feel the stiffness
in it giving way to a very pliable softness. Sometime during the finger-fuck, I had
begun to sweat more profusely.

"Better keep the noise down, boy. Or do you want everyone to know that there's a 
boywhore in this last stall getting his slutty hole worked over?"

I bit my lip and managed to stiffle my moans, but not for long. Master Steffen took
out his two fingers only to jab them back in along with a third! He kept his fingers
aligned horizontally as he pushed them steadily down my chute, ignoring my full-bodied
trembling at the savage intrusion. I had taken three of my own fingers before but 
each of Master Steffen's fingers was almost twice as thick as mine. If he'd told me 
what he wanted to do, I wouldn't have believed that they could go in so quickly, but 
my Master kept up the intense pressure constantly and within seconds all three fingers
were sunk to the base. He let me get used to them for a few seconds, and just as I
started to breathe more easily again, he began to really fuck me with them.

My eyes widened in shock, my throat constricted and my mouth gaped open in a silent 
scream of protest as the fingers began to pump in and out. And then my breath
exploded and I began to moan loudly in tandem with the pumping motion. "OOOHH... 
OOOHHOOHHHOOHHHOOOHHHOOOHHHOOOOHHHHH!! OOHHOOHHOOHHOOHHHOOOHHHOOOOHHHH!!" I simply
couldn't help it. I wanted to stop moaning but the fingers were sending my nerves into
overdrive as they ploughed repeatedly into me. I could feel the softened flaps of my
spinchter muscles giving way easily now each time Master Steffen's fingers drove in
and out of my battered opening. My hole was no longer resisting, but simply accepted
the repeated violations passively and without protest. And the friction of my Master's
fingers against my asslips was making me see stars.

"NNGGHHHHHOOOHHHOOOHHHOOOHHHOOOHHHOOOHHHOOOHHHHH!!"

"Damn it, boy," I dimly heard my Master say. "You're a real moaner, aren't you?"

Master Steffen paused and let his fingers rest motionless in my hole. After a moment
he twisted them to the left, then to the right, as if testing the limits of my
looseness.

"Well," he said. "I guess that's as far as we can go for now. When I pull my fingers
out, you'd better keep your pussy open. The more it closes back up, the more painful
it'll be."

I gasped when he removed his fingers and concentrated on keeping my hole unclenched.
The air felt cool around my gaping ass. Or pussy, rather. The muscles around the lips
felt tender and sore, but I knew that it was far from over. I cringed and my hole
clenched involuntarily at the sound of my Master's zipper opening, but I quickly 
pushed out again to prevent my hole from tightening up. As I waited, my Master reached
out over me and opened the bigger bag. His hand rummaged around inside a bit and then
came out with a big transparent tube of some clear jelly. Lube, I thought thankfully.
A few seconds passed as I heard the stopper open and a small 'squish' as he squeezed
out some of the contents. I swallowed as I imagined Master lubing up his nine-inch 
dick. Soon he had reached out again and deposited the tube on the shelf.

I twitched again as something began to nudge on my opening. Somethick blunt and big.
My hole clenched reflexively, and the cold and sticky lube only made my Master's cock 
slide down my crack, missing my hole. My Master grabbed my waist with both hands, and
I could feel his left hand still coated with lube. I concentrated and pushed out 
again, and this time the head of my Master's cock found purchase. Master pushed into 
me quickly, burying half his cockhead in my hole before it had a chance to close up 
again. His hands on my waist held me firm, despite the slippery sweat on my skin, and
kept me from instinctively moving away. I knew that the only way to make it easier on
myself was to open up for him, and I strove as hard as I could to loosen my pussylips.
But even as my Master's cock began to push more urgently into me, I realised that
the earlier finger-fuck was hardly enough to prepare me for his big monster.

With his hands holding my hips firmly in place, Master Steffen began to force his
giant tool into me. He didn't rush it, but the heavy pressure he exterted was constant
and unforgiving. Pretty soon, even before the head was completely in, I was starting
to breathe in short shallow gasps as my limbs and joints began to stiffen at the pain.
Despite the wide open feeling earlier, my asslips began to feel as if they were being
stretched to breaking point. And still the head was not completely in. God it was
huge! The pressure continued to mount, as did the pain. My tortured nether lips felt 
so taut that they seemed to be on the verge of tearing. Cold sweat poured down my body,
and a kind of weakness took me, as if I was being put through something my body could 
no longer stand. It was the same feeling you'd get when you're starting to faint, and 
it was the same feeling I got when I first tried to use my other, bigger buttplug, 
only many times worse. I started to claw at my handhold, my eyes shut tight as the 
first drop of tears dribbled down my cheek. The pain was unbearable. A pitiful whimper 
of denial escaped me.

The pain lasted forever. It seemed as if someone were trying to shove his whole hand
into my ass. And then, suddenly, my Master's cockhead was in. My asslips closed
around the monster just behind its flared head, and though it was by no means slender,
the comparative thinness of its neck gave me some breathing space. I shuddered for
breath, wondering how much more I could stand. My Master's cock was widest at about 
two-fifths of the way up from the head before tapering back to about the same thickness 
as its head at the base. Judging from the pain caused by the head alone, there was no 
way that my Master could push up to one-third into me without completely ripping me 
apart. I wanted to say so to him, but my heart was labouring too hard and my mouth 
seemed to have forgotten to form words, and before I collected myself enough to 
attempt it again, my Master started to push his cock into me again.

I shook my head from side to side as the pain began to mount again. I even went so far
as to try to twist my hips away from his grasp, but his vice-like grips held my body
immobile.

"Nnn.. No.. Please. It hurts.. It hurts so much." I finally managed in between pants.

I felt Master Steffen shift about. He stepped over my right leg, positioning his own
on the outside of it, and then repeated the procedure with my left leg. I felt the
underside of his pants-covered thighs brushing mine and I knew that he was squatting 
behind me. Then he encircled my waist with one arm and pulled my hips back firmly 
against his, using now only one hand to keep his manhood pressing into my tortured 
boypussy.

He leaned over me and whispered into my ear. "I told you to be quiet." Then, his other
hand came down on my mouth, muffling my protests. "I'm your Master. _I_ decide how 
much to hurt you."

Then, with a mighty heave of his hips and an iron-like flex of his arm, he pushed.
Hard. Stars exploded in my head. My whole body arched and stiffened in a screaming
rictus and I lost my hold on the shelf completely as my hands beat uselessly on the
walls on either side of me. For several moments, only my Master's hold on my mouth
kept me from falling forward. My eyes opened to find my head thrown back and my face
staring imploringly at the ceiling. Despite the lube, the mere girth of my Master's 
cock meant that that initial push accomplished little, but Master Steffen must have
expected this and simply kept pushing, maintaining the terrible pressure on my stubborn
pussy. Only then did I begin to truly understand something my Master said in one of our
previous emails. He had said that I was a slut but an untrained one. He said that I
might've thought that I was something else, but the truth was I had a lot more to learn
and that I needed someone to properly take charge of me and turn me into a trained 
slut. Left to my own devices, my full potential would go to waste. And he'd said that
he would enjoy training me and breaking me, and showing me just how much more I had to
learn.

And this, I guess, was the first lesson. If it was only me and a big dildo, I would've
stopped trying to shove it in after a few minutes of trying, or indeed the moment it
started to cause more pain than I expected. Without really realizing it, I had
established limits as to how much I allowed my body to take. A real slut would have no
such luxury - he'd take as much as others wanted him to and indeed would even ask for
more. Physical limits and pain would be immaterial. I had thought that I was slutty
enough but I was wrong. I had a long way to go, and Master Steffen had almost a week
to make sure that I go all the way. And there was nothing I could do about it.

The white-hot, all-conquering pain of Master Steffen's log inexorably splitting me open
seemed to last for hours. I wanted to shout and scream for him to stop, but my lungs
felt breathless and constricted as if my Master was stuffing his bloated appendage into
my chest instead of my guts. All I could do was writhe around slowly in his grasp, my
fingers clenching into claws and unclenching, my face and mouth twisting into various 
frozen rictuses of horror, imploration, and agony. In my pain I no longer paid much
attention to how I was held up, but I think it was entirely due to my Master's holds
around my waist and over my mouth than any effort on my part. I could barely feel my
toes touching the floor as my bent, pain-stiff legs trembled under me, but Master's
strong hands held me up seemingly effortlessly as he continued the relentless assault.

I was close to blabbering when Master finally eased up the pressure on my hole.

"Well, I guess three inches will have to do for this first time. You're nowhere near
the thickest part, boy, so be thankful for my mercy."

Three inches? All that agony and only three inches in? I could clearly recall how much
thicker those fourth and fifth inches were, and the knowledge filled me with horror.
Surely I couldn't hope to take those howsoever they were forced into me? Oh God. Maybe
this wasn't what I wanted, after all. Maybe life as a faggot sexslave should always
have stayed as a fantasy. I was fairly certain that I'd die if I had to take any more
of that huge cock, or at least I'd be in so much pain that there'd be nothing at all 
enjoyable about it.

As if sensing my thoughts, Master Steffen comforted me. "Don't worry, boy. We'll use
lots of lube and lots of toys to loosen you up before-hand. We'll stretch you out so
good that a train could pass through that cute hole. It'd be painful at first, but 
you'll start to enjoy it in no time. Besides, it's not like you have any choice."

His first words didn't disperse my doubts, but the last sentence rendered everything
else immaterial. It's not like I had any choice. The simple statement coursed in me
like a shot of tranquiliser, making my muscles spasm and surrender in helplessness. I
could imagine Master Steffen grinning as he saw what his words did to me. He fully
understood what I craved. He knew that being taken against my will and completely
dominated was my greatest turn-on.

"Okay," my Master said. "Here goes."

As he said that, Master Steffen began to fuck his cock in and out of my boypussy. He
used short, jerking movements, just enough to let the second and third inches of his
cock plough in and out of my hole. At first the pain returned but soon it receded to a
dull throbbing that seemed to emanate from deep inside my guts and a sharp soreness
that persisted all around the rim of my hole.

This was it. I was being fucked. I was being bred by another man. My previously 
'virgin' boypussy, which had only ever taken fingers, toys, and a variety of other
inanimate objects now knew how a real man's cock felt. I was naked in a public toilet
and a relative stranger was pounding his cock into my pussy, using my body the way he
wanted. My dream had finally come true. And it felt right. Despite the frequent twinges
of pain that shot up from my backside in tandem with his strokes, it felt as if I truly
deserved it, as if it was part of the price I had to pay for coveting his mastery over
me. I savoured the rightness of that feeling until the pain became no more than a
minor inconvenience. I wanted to please this man who was fucking me. I wanted to give
him pleasure more than anything else. For only in his pleasure would I truly find
mine.

I think I must have moaned my delight outloud, for my Master remarked. "Good boy.
You're starting to like it, aren't you? But I still want you to be quiet. You have to
learn to obey me at all times."

I bit my lips. If it pleased him that I keep quiet, I would. I would do anything for
him.

"All.. right... As I.. fuck you.. I want to.. show you.. the pre.. presents.. I 
brought.. for you." Master said in between thrusts. "Unzip the.. big bag."

I had to shift forward a bit to obey him but he shifted along with me, keeping his cock
buried in me. After a few seconds of fumbling, I managed to unzip the bag. I was in no
position to see what was in it, though.

"Reach.. in.. and take out.. the first.. thing.. you find."

I reached a hand into the bag, and immediately my fingers came into contact with 
something big and hard. The shape told me what it was before I even took it out of the
bag, and the size felt me with dread even before my eyes fell on it.

I was holding a buttplug by its neck. It was black. And it was big. Way bigger than
the one plugging me earlier, and instead of shaped like a cock it was more like a 
normal buttplug, with a long cone head, a slimmer neck and a round base. What horrified
me, however, was the fact that the base of the cone, the thickest part of the plug, was
a full four-inches in diameter, if not more. Even the 'slim' neck was still almost 
three inches thick, much thicker than the thickest dildo I've ever taken. The whole
thing was about eight-inches long, with the cone taking up six inches and the neck and
base taking up the final two. My hand trembled as I held it.

"Ahh," Master murmured behind me, pausing his pounding on my ass. "Nice, isn't it? I
wanted to get you some bigger ones but they were out of stock, so I had to settle for a
medium-sized one."

Medium-sized..??

"That'll be part of your uniform every day. Any time you don't have my cock inside you,
you will have that in you instead."

I took a breath and protested. "But it's so big! I.. I can't!"

"Oh, you can and you will. You will start wearing it by tomorrow.

Besides, it's not the biggest thing you're gonna have to take. Reach into the bag
again. Go on, you will like it."

As I reached inside the bag again with a moan, Master resumed his fucking of me. My 
fingers fished around inside until they touched something that felt like a long, thick 
pole. I encircled the girth with my hand, finding that I could barely get a hold on it.
Oh my. When I finally pulled it out of the bag, my eyes glazed over and I almost fell 
to the floor in shock.

It was a dildo. A great pinkish contraption that must've been 18 inches long and almost
as thick as my bicep. It was thicker even than the black buttplug. The bulbous head was
just as thick and looked more like a doorknob than a cockhead. The surface of the dildo
was corrugated with fake veins, some almost as thick as my little finger. About one-
thirds of the way down it and covering the next third were a set of ridges that circled
the humongous dildo instead of ran down it. I knew instintively what those ridges were 
for. They were intended to exert the most unbearable mixture of pleasure and pain on 
one's pussylips. Assuming it could even reach that far. Master couldn't possibly be
serious on asking me to use that thing!

"Ahh, you found the boysplitter," my Master said as he paused again. "Don't worry, you 
won't be expected to take that straightaway. But you _will_ take it before I'm finished
with you. Before I'm through, you will beg me for it and ride it hard like a crazed, 
slutty little cowboy-faggot."

At that moment, a sound came from outside and I realised that we were no longer alone.
Master Steffen leaned over me and spoke softly into my ear. "That's it, stare into
those toys and imagine how I'm going to use them on you. Use them hard and without
mercy. Imagine your pitiful little body speared on them, just like I'm spearing you
now." 

With those words, my Master resumed fucking me in earnest. Short, vicious jerks that 
threw me forward each time, that threatened to make me cry out despite the presence of 
others outside. It took all of my self-control to stiffle any sound from my throat, but
there was nothing I could do to avoid panting occasionally, and I could only hope that
any listening ear did not suspect the real reason behind those.

Master Steffen fucked me for about ten more minutes before he came. He pulled my torso
up and back against him and held me hard against his suit-clad body as he came, his 
arms encircling my waist and chest from behind. I think I must have let out a moan as I
felt his cum shooting inside me, finally completing my transformation into a slutty
fuckboy with a pussy for breeding. I wanted to grab my own raging cock and jerk it 
until I cum, but my Master made it clear that I was never going to relieve myself
without permission, and certainly never until we reached the hotel. So I threw my head
back and let my head rest on his shoulder as I savoured the sensation of being bred by
a man for the first time. I found that I liked it.

"You please me, slave," my Master whispered into my ear. "And you didn't even touch
your cock. That's good. Now, don't loose any of my cum when I pull out. Put your butt-
plug back in immediately."

Master grabbed my waist and then pushed me forward, detaching me from his cock. I 
moaned again as the action sent conflicting sensations to my asslips. Immediately I
clenched my boypussy tight, but still I thought I could feel a tiny trickle of cum
escape. I grabbed my now very small-looking plug, spread my legs as I squatted and 
started to push it deep inside. It was relatively easy as my hole was still abundantly
coated with lube.

"Turn around and look at me as you dress," Master whispered.

I turned around and looked up at Master Steffen's eyes. The man who had just fucked me.
Used my body for his own pleasure. Made me his. I felt so little and helpless before
him. His big, strong body. His manly aura. I wanted him to make me his forever. I could
see that his shirt was plastered to his body, drenched with sweat. The sweat only made
him smell more manly, more intoxicating. I was bathed in my own sweat, as well; I was
practically dripping with it. As I slowly put on my panties, followed by my pants and
then shirt, the sweat made my clothes stick to my body, too. It made me feel as if I
was still naked. Furthermore, I was positive that I smelled of sex. The sensation was
so strong that I became convinced that anyone passing close by would know that I'd just
been used for sex. The thought unnerved and excited me at the same time.

Master Steffen motioned me to pack the toys back inside - which I did almost reverently
- and then to shoulder the bag and follow him out. Thankfully, the toilet was devoid
of other people and we were able to make our way out without incident. Once outside, 
the cooler air started to dry our clothes, but not seemingly quickly enough to me. And
I still couldn't stop thinking of how much I smelled of sex.

We got to the taxi stand in about ten minutes and was safely inside one soon after. As
instructed, I sat as close to Master as possible, virtually almost in the middle of
the seat. The driver and I could see each other in the rearview mirror, but if he found
it strange or inconvenient, he held his peace. Within seconds, I could feel Master's
hand sliding across my buttocks before nudging firmly in that space between the seat 
and my bottom. I shifted about a bit to give him access, and soon I could feel his
fingers grasping the base of my buttplug. He nudged at it a few times, then hooked
several fingers over the base, securing enough purchase despite my pants being in the
way, and proceeded to jerk on the base repeatedly. The sharp little jerks had the
effect of fucking the buttplug slightly in and out of me. It was amazing. Even in such
confines my Master found ways to use me. All I wanted to do was moan submissively as a
sign of my complete surrender to him. My Master. My owner.

