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
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 fuckboy in our emails or chat sessions, from the moment he got my stats (22/50/5'2"). 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 you will hurt."
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.