After my experience with Ray I felt so much more confident, and after my night with Gary I knew that I had to obey my owners and complete the “tick sheet” or else they wouldn’t hesitate to punish me. So, screwing up my courage, I approached another guy that day and had sex with him – first, with him fucking me, and then with me taking him (rather more vigorously!).
It’s a bit like swimming, I suppose – even on the hottest day you stand on the edge of the pool, not wanting to jump in because you’re worried about the initial shock of the cold water. But once you’re in, the water’s lovely! Well, for me, proper sex was like that: it took me a long time to get started, but once I was “in”, it was fantastic: I steadily worked my way down the list of guys, jerking off, sucking, being sucked, fucking, and being fucked.
On my list I’d seen that I had to go with the big nigga, Jomo, several times, and I think it was on about day three of four that I finally plucked up the courage to approach him – to tell you the truth, I was a bit worried about the size of his dick, and about the power and strength of him generally. I was probably the tallest and most well-built guy in the place apart from Jomo, and as I was being fucked by one of the others I kind of knew “inside” that I was submitting voluntarily – if I’d wanted, I knew I was strong enough to throw the guy off; I was, if you like, “submitting” to him voluntarily (whilst knowing of course that I had to do it eventually to fulfil my owners’ orders). But with Jomo it would be different – once he was riding me, there would be no way that I could make him stop – if he chose to fuck me hard, very hard, there would be absolutely nothing I could do about it.
It was with immense trepidation that I therefore approached him, but of course I didn’t let him see this – I mean, you never admit to another guy that you’re afraid, do you? He grinned at me, said that he had been looking forward to it, and we went over to one of the empty beds – it was midmorning, so most of the other guys were exercising and we were mostly alone.
“So, Steve, who’s first – are you going to fuck me, or me fuck you?”, he asked , as if it was the most normal kind of question in the world to ask.
Now ideally I’d have liked to fuck him first, but I was worried that I’d lose control as usual and go at him very hard. Then, having done that, he’d have the perfect excuse for fucking me hard, wouldn’t he? Consequently I mumbled that he should start, and he grinned again and said “OK, boy, but you can choose – shall I fuck you across the bed, or kneeling, doggy fashion, or on your back, as in the missionary position?”
“I don’t know…”
“Well, you white folks invented the ‘missionary’ position, when you went out and fucked the poor black folks all those centuries ago. So perhaps it might be poetic justice if I did that… On your back, boy, and get your legs up in the air.”
I didn’t really like being called “boy”, but he was bigger than me, so I just accepted it. I lay down with some trepidation, and went to pull my ankles up towards my head.
“Shall I clip your ankle and writs bracelets together?”, he said, rather impishly, “or have you got enough self control to hang on when I go into you?”
As he said this he came and knelt between my legs, and was stroking his dick into life. It was fearsome enough when it was just hanging there soft, but as he went erect it made me shudder, it was so long and, more importantly, thick. I liked my lips nervously, and I guess my whole body language must have been giving me away, as he said “Are you OK, Steve?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound it…. Come on, tell Jomo what the problem is!”
“Nothing.”
“Hey, Steve, this is supposed to be fun, you know. OK, it’s our work – but if you don’t enjoy your work, what’s the point? There are too many guys out there who toil away, day in and day out, in jobs they hate. It’s bad enough being a slave, but if you have to do work you loathe as swell….. That’s double trouble. So why don’t you at least try to enjoy it?”
“I do enjoy it…. I’ve had sex with several of the guys now, and it’s fun….”
“So cheer up, then… Let’s see a smile on your face…. Being a pleasure slave isn’t just about getting fucked, you know – you’re supposed to provide a complete experience for the clients, and they don’t want to see some long face, do they? If you’re smiling and enjoying it, they will, too. And then they’ll give you a good mark in the customer satisfaction survey, and will probably tip you, too.”
“Uh?”
“Well, this isn’t really the time to be discussing this, but hasn’t anyone told you that every client gets a ‘customer satisfaction’ form to fill out after his session? Master Jed and Master Brett are really keen on it – they track the overall number the clients give us, and they’re really proud that their place is one of the best performing ones – and actually you have to be really careful not to let your personal rating slip, else Master Jed, in particular, can be really vicious. And the tip – well, isn’t it obvious? If you go to a restaurant and get good service, you leave the waiter or waitress something, don’t you? Well, it’s just the same with us – the bills for our service mostly go direct to the companies that employ these guys, but they can always give you a little cash when you’re leaving, if they’re really satisfied. Mind you, some of them can be really mean – they’re all earning tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of a year, and yet when they have to shell out their own cash, they can be as tight a as a virgin’s ass! A lot of them give you a fifty, but some tight bastards only drop a twenty.”
“But what good’s that to me?”
“You know about that savings count you have, where the owner has to pay a thousand a year in to provide you with a ‘nest egg’ when you’re free?”
“Yes.”
“Well you can go to any Post office, give them your Slave ID Number, and they can add money to the account. It’s perfectly safe, as your owner specifically has no access to it whilst you’re his slave. So you put all the tips in, as you earn them – and over the time you’re here, they’ll really mount up. It’s really worthwhile making a huge effort to please the client, therefore, as you may as well get a fifty, or even a hundred, for your efforts, rather than nothing.”
“…so, Steve… Why don’t you start practising now? Let me see a big, bright smile, to encourage poor Jomo as he starts to fuck you….”
When I still just lay there, he looked down at me again and asked, now very concerned, “Hey, Steve, are you OK? You look scared as hell!”
Look, I hate to admit to being afraid , but I just had to mumble “It’s your dick…. “
“Ah, another white guy who’s scared of nigga dick…. Come on, tell Jomo all about it….”
“I can’t take that huge thick thing up my ass – it will rip me apart…”
“Don’t be so stupid! Of course it won’t!”
“But my ass isn’t that big….”
He was laughing now. “Oh, Steve, you do still have a lot to learn, don’t you? How big is the biggest turd you’ve ever dropped? Was it thicker than my dick?” He leaned forward and waggled the huge monster over my belly, so I could see it clearly.
“Yes, I guess so….”
“Well then, if a big thick turd can get out, Jomo’s big thick dick can get in…. Don’t you worry about it… Jomo knows what he’s doing….”
“But….”
“No, Steve, don’t worry. Sure, if I just threw you to the ground, hauled your ass into the air and thrust my dick home, you’d have big, big problems. I’d almost certainly tear your sphincter, and you’d need to go to the emergency room afterwards – that is if you could still walk, and could still tell them what was the problem, as you’d have lost your voice from the screaming. But the secret’s in the preparation – provided I massage you and stretch you properly, your ass can easily accommodate me, and you’ll be amazed at the feeling then as a really thick dick fucks you… Unless you’re prejudiced, that is…?”
“Prejudiced?”
“Hey, Steve, this is the real world! A lot of white guys won’t take nigga dick at all. And a lot of the rest take one look at a really thick one, and go for one of the thin ones instead – one of those that’s more like a stick of asparagus! Well, they don’t know what they’re missing – there’s no fun in being fucked by an asparagus spear – a real man wants to feel a really thick proper man’s dick inside him…. So, are you prejudiced?”
“No, I guess not….”
“OK, then, let’s start…. Put your legs down for a minute…”
As I watched , he leaned forward an took my dick in his mouth. As his tongue swirled over my piss slit and his lips caressed the shaft, I went hard as a rock, and I have to admit that seeing the big black body bobbing up and down as he started to service me was a real turn on – so much muscle, so much power, and all used with such amazing finesse to work on my dick. After a few minutes, though, he raised his head and looked at me, smiling. “OK so far, Steve….
“Fantastic….”
“OK, now let’s really milk you….”
He spat on his hands, then used both of them to start jerking me off. I started to groan with the sheer excitement of it all – not just from seeing all that power used to pleasure me, but from the physicality of the act itself: I guess most of us just use one hand for jerking off, don’t we? But with an expert using two hands, one mainly to stroke the shaft and the other to fondle the dick head at the same time, the effect is overpowering. I was banging my hands up and down on the bed with ecstasy, and moaning aloud, it was so incredible.
It can’t be sustained, of course, and I soon shot – Jomo must have been waiting for it, as the moment there was an indication of me beginning to spurt, he stopped jerking me and pushed my dick right forward, parallel to my belly – that in itself was a novel new sensation, to have my dick forced like that – so that my cum roared out and lay like a thick white slick all up my belly and almost to my pecs.
“I guess we can tick off jerking off, too…”, Jomo commeted, grinning at me. “Now, let’s use some of that lovely creamy cum on your hole.. Nature’s natural lubricant is better than all the factory-made stuff on earth….”
He began to massage my hole, stopping occasionally to refresh his fingers with my cum, and all the time looking at me and smiling. His infectious grin and the sheer excitement of having my delicate membranes stroked and teased soon had me grinning, too, and as he slipped first one finger, then two, then three, then four into my hole, I began to moan with the sheer excitement of it all.
I’d have been happy for it to go on for ever – seeing him working away, his muscles flexing and relaxing under the sheen of sweat that covered his jet black skin was intoxicating in itself. But finally he stopped, and knelt upright between my legs.
“OK, Steve, you’re ready…. Now for the best ride you’ve ever had in your life….” He picked up my feet and put them on his shoulders, then shuffled forward so that I felt the jab of his dick on my hole. I moaned quietly – not now in apprehension, but in anticipation of the excitement to come.
It was hard to believe that such a giant of a man could be so gentle. His dick slipped into me with hardly any effort, then he rocked backwards and forwards so slowly at first that all I could do was just lie there and enjoy it. His total mastery of his body, and hence of my reaction to it, continued as he then fucked away – varying the speed, the length of stroke, and the force he used, almost constantly. I never knew from one instant to the next whether his thrust was going to be slow and smooth, or whether it would slam into me to give me that delicious combination of pleasure and pain that you get. And all the time, as he fucked away, he never took his eyes off mine – he was towering over me, and as he worked away I could see his face changing as he too got the full gamut of sensation from his dick.
I only knew he was about to cum when his eyes rolled back in ecstasy and he gave a little cry. His whole body was rigid, thrust forward into me, and that was that – as we all know, the literature always says that you feel the cum pumping up into you, but it’s not like that, is it? There aren’t too many nerve endings inside your body, and you just can’t feel that lovely shower of a man’s gift to you, unless he pulls out and allows it to cover your body. But he clearly was finished, and he gently lowered my feet, then leaned right forward, to cover my body with his.
He was really considerate, taking most of his weight on his elbows as his face came close to mine. Instinctively, and this is something I’d never done before, I pushed my head forward to kiss him – his dick was buried inside me, and now I wanted his tongue to thrust into me, too. We kissed, passionately and hungrily, and I was aware of my arms going around him and sliding up and down his back, almost planing the sweat off him; and of my legs locked around his waist, as if to stop him pulling out of me.
He pulled out of my mouth, and was still panting for breath. His face was wreathed in a smile that split it from side to side. “You’re quite the little sensualist, aren’t you, Steve? Do you like feeling a nigga’s body then…?”
“Thanks…”
“Have you ever been fucked like that before?”
“No.”
“Well, white boy, that’s what you’ve got to aspire to. Not many guys get to enjoy a fucking like that from Jomo, as they don’t want to go with a nigga…”
“But you can’t tell…..”
“No, it’s the thought of it, Steve. They see my dick, they see my big body, and they don’t realise that us big guys know how to use our muscles properly. And some, of course, want nothing at all to do with niggas.”
“Anyway…. Now, it’s your turn next….”, he went on.
I felt myself beginning to flush with embarrassment. “No, later…”
“No time like the present – think of all those tips from the clients, once you’re trained…. Now, doggy or missionary?”
I got redder and redder as my distress grew. “No, Jomo, it has to be later….”
He pulled away from me, looked down at me, and smiled. “Hey, Steve, I see! You can’t get it up, can you?”
It had been my dick that was bothering me. Normally, just thinking about sex makes it go rock hard. But it was just lying there on my belly, absolutely lifeless. “No, I can’t”, I muttered, very quietly, as I was ashamed.
“Hey, man, don’t worry…. I see the problem! You’ve just been fucked, had an ace fuck, even if I say so myself. And a lot of guys can’t get an erection immediately afterwards. My dick massages your insides or something, and it can kind of paralyse the muscles that control the blood to your dick so that they stop working. Nothing to worry about – you’ll recover in thirty minutes or so…. But there’s lots of other things we can do in the meantime… “
“Be bent forward over me again, muttering “You’re a pretty good kisser, so let’s practice that for a bit first…”
It is really good to kiss another guy, isn’t it? Especially when you’re both enthusiastic, and naked together so that as your tongues explore each others mouths your hands are roaming over each other , teasing , stroking and caressing to heighten the enjoyment and the excitement. It was really great, and I could even begin to feel my dick stir into life. Jomo pulled away from me, though, and said “Hey, this is fun…. But you’ve got work to do, Steve! There are one or two boxes you haven’t ticked on your sheet next… I think you’d better suck me off….”
“You can’t be ready… You’ve only just fucked me…”
“Well I might not cum immediately, but if you’re really good with that mouth of yours, who knows… And you can go on for a good long time, and get lots of experience…”
I began to feel embarrassed again. I remembered how awful it had been with the training handles on my collar that first day. And as I looked at Jomo’s dick, I just knew I couldn’t get it down my throat.
“No, Jomo, I don’t think I can….”
“Steve, you’ve got to learn to like sucking dick – that’s all some clients want you to do: they like to pretend they’re with a woman, and have you just give them a blow job. You’re not going to be able to refuse them, you know…”
“Yes, I know that. But it’s your dick… The size….”
He grinned at me again. “Don’t you worry about that now. You didn’t think it would fit up your ass, did you? Well, it’s just the same… If we practice, you’ll be amazed what you can get down your throat….”
And he was right, too, of course. Not that I did very well on that lesson – it was as much as I could do to get an inch or so of it in my mouth without gagging, and he even slapped me once or twice – gently – when I forgot what I was doing and let my teeth graze his shaft. I almost panicked several times, and again I think it was the feeling of helplessness, of not being in control – Jomo had straddled my body with his legs, then shuffled forward so that his knees and thighs were holding my biceps down onto the bed. Raising his body then almost vertical, he was able to lower his dick down into my mouth and I couldn’t do a thing about it – with his weight pressing down into my arms and his calves gripping my body, there was absolutely no way I could move. He even used his hand to grip my jaw when I tried to turn my head sideways to avoid his dick the first time it touched my lips.
He fed it into me, crooning “There, boy, take Jomo’s dick… Worship it, boy. Let me feel that tongue of yours teasing my piss slit….”
He was patient, though, feeding his dick into me until I gagged, then withdrawing and resting there for a few moments, letting my spit and mucous drip off the end of his dick into my face. It went on and on, and gradually it got easier, until he said “Although this is fun, Steve, we’ve got to finish soon, as I’ve got a lot of exercise hours to put in today…. So one more time… Focus on really teasing my dick head now, as I need to cum again….”
I was still pretty powerless to do anything about it, pinioned there, so I started to nibble and suckle his dick head. He seemed to be enjoying it, and I must have been doing OK as I suddenly got the taste of pre-cum in my mouth. I went on teasing him, and I could fele his dick getting stiffer and stiffer, and begin to get little shivers through it indicating that he was about to shoot again.
To my surprise, he pulled right out of me, quickly gave his dick one of two strokes with his hands, then almost snapped “Close your eyes, white boy….” I didn’t understand him, really, but I suppose I just did as he said, as I then felt a warm spray all over my face, and heard Jomo gasping with pleasure. I opened my eyes to see his dick right under my nose, with a trail of cum still hanging from it. I could smell it, as that characteristic odour so clearly overlaid Jomo’s sweat, and I could feel it running down my cheeks and trickling into the corners of my mouth.
“Good boy, Steve…. You really don’t want to get a guy’s cum into your eyes – it really stings! ” He reached down and casually wiped away the drool of his cum still hanging out of the end of his dick and let it fall on my face. Instinctively, I suppose, I turned away, and Jomo, quick as a flash, reached down and slapped me – hard.
“Don’t do that, Steve! When a guy gives you the gift of his cum, how dare you turn away. Now, lick my fingers….”
He began to trace his fingers across my face, mopping us his cum from my skin, then plunging them into my open mouth and holding them there as I licked them clean. Somehow licking a guy’s fingers, especially when they’re coated with cum, is worse than sucking his dick, isn’t it? Even after all my experience, I still find I hate it when a guy makes me kneel in front of him and then presents his hand to me, wanting me to suck his fingers. I don’t know why, but there you are, that’s the way I feel about it.
He looked down at me and said “Something wrong? Don’t you like cum?”
“No…. I’ve taken it from several of the guys here now. It’s just…. No, it doesn’t matter.”
“Come on, Steve… No secrets…”
“Well, I’m just a bit surprised. Your cum… It’s white…”
“So?”
“Well, you’re a black guy…..”
He roared with laughter, shuffled down my body so he could lie beside me, wrapped his arms around me and said “You white guys are all the same! What colour do you think a nigga’s cum would be? What colour’s a nigga’s blood? What colour’s his piss? If you cut me open, what colour would the meat of my muscles be? I’m just the same as you, you know, except for the top few millimetres which is this fetching shade of black – a lot better than you whiteys, who are always trying to go darker in the sun anyway!”
Of course I’d never thought of that before, but I suppose it’s obvious. The genes and stuff is microscopic, and you wouldn’t need black cum to produce black babies! We both laughed together then, and I felt his hand stroking my dick, that had become hard whilst I was being fed with his cum.
“I’m ready to take your ass now, nigga….”.
“Well you’re going to have to hold on to that erection, Steve, as I’ve got to exercise… Come on…. Let’s work out together, and see if those long legs of yours can keep up with mine on the running machine….”
Sadly, I had to decline, as I had time booked on one of the sun beds – Master Jed and Master Brett liked all their slaves to be tanned, as it was more or less what most of the clients expected. So we got up off the bed, Jomo pulled on his shorts and went to exercise, and I went to the sun bed.
The slave who had it booked before me to keep up his tan was just finishing, and he stood there and pulled off the tiny Speedos he was wearing, and dressed in his regulation shorts. He handed me the Speedos, and when he saw me looking at them, said “Oh, Steve – you have to wear these. Our owners want us to have a ‘natural’ look, and that means a tan line. Some of the clients would be intimidated if our entire bodies were tanned, as they’d think we ran around naked all the time, and they might not like it. They like to pretend they’re fucking the white ass of some beach boy they’ve just picked up, and so when you’re on the sun bed, you wear these Speedos.”
I found I could now drop my shorts in front of another guy without even the faintest hint of embarrassment, but somehow wearing clothes that other guys had worn was still somehow distasteful – even when I’d been in intimate contact with their bodies, had my dick up their asses, and theirs up mine, I was still somehow fastidious afterwards about making sure the shorts I put back on were mine, and not theirs! And now I had to pull on these Speedos which he’d just that moment taken off, and which were still warm form his body. Still, if that was the way it was here, I guess that’s the way it was!
I pulled them on, feeling the dampness of his sweat as they clasped my sac and dick, and realised I was going to get a very tiny tan line – there was only one set of Speedos for all us slaves, so on a big guy like me they were really small – even my clipped pubic hair poked over the waistband at the front, and when I explored around the back, I could feel the top of my ass crack exposed, too. Still, I shrugged, and lay down to start to further mould my body into the way that my owners wanted it.
Master Brett called me in to his office again to review progress. It was just like being at school – I had to show him the list of guys and the ticks I’d made to indicate how we’d used each other, and he asked me a lot of questions to make sure I wasn’t bullshititng – which guys were soft, which ones hard, who liked to fuck in which position, and so on.
“Good, Steve… You’re making progress! Enjoying it?”
I didn’t know what to say, as the question took me by surprise. If anyone a few weeks ago had asked me if I liked fucking men, or having their dicks in my mouth and up my ass, I’d probably have punched them out! But, actually, thinking about it, I suppose I was enjoying it – especially when I had Gary, or could spend time with Ray, or even Jomo!
“I guess so, sir…”
“Good, Steve. A happy, contented slave makes the clients more disposed to be happy and content too – and we regard client satisfaction here as being of paramount importance. I don’t know if anyone has told you, but each time you’re sent on an assignment we send a customer comments form with you, and the client is asked to, as a minimum, rate you from one to five, where one means ‘delighted, I’d have no hesitation in hiring this slave again, or in recommending him to a friend.’, down to five, ‘Not an experience I will repeat’. It’s really important to all of us here to get good ratings from the clients – we publish our moving average on our website, and are proud to compare ourselves with other similar services here in the city, and across our great country. So you want happy, satisfied clients, Steve, understand?”
“Yes, sir. I didn’t realise you had a website.”
“Most of our business comes to us that way, well, the repeat business, anyway. We bribe the concierges at the big hotels to give our name and phone number to clients new to the city, but after that, we mostly expect repeat business via the web. A client can browse all the available stock, and if he knows his schedule, can make an advance reservation for you. So if he’s particularly liked fucking you, he can be sure that on his next visit to the city you’ll be available to him again.. Of course, some clients make a direct booking just from browsing the pictures….”
“You mean my picture is on the site, sir?”
“It will be, Steve. Once you’ve built up your tan a little more, we’ll have some professional photos taken and loaded,… A new slave here usually attracts a lot of interest, with clients eager to try out something new.”
“You mean anyone can look at me, see what I have to do…”
“Of course, yes… We need to give you exposure, to attract business. They’re all perfectly harmless pictures – we don’t show you fucking or anything, as clients don’t like to think of slaves enjoying themselves with other slaves. Just the standard full frontal and full dorsal shots, then any special features like, in your case, your head and shoulders as you’re a pretty handsome guy, you know… And probably a close-up of your dick and your ass, as they’re both very good features.”
“But my buddies, sir…. They’ll see me like that…..”
“Well only if they’re looking for sex! And anyway, what’s the harm? You’re still thinking like a free man, Steve. What does it matter if your former buddies do see you? And they are your former buddies, you know – you can’t be friends with a slave! After all, you’ve got a fantastic body, one any man would be proud of, particularly since we clipped your ‘skin. Any man should be proud to exhibit that body in public, but you should have absolutely no concerns at all – you’re a slave now, remember? And a slave has no modesty, no pride: a slave exists only to serve his owner, and if his owner deems it right to have pictures of the slave displayed on the net, then that is all the slave needs to be concerned with. So later this week we’ll have you photographed and added to the site, and then we can start taking advance bookings for when you finish your training – a lot of men are keen to try out new stock, as I said.”
My mouth dried up, as I began to realise that the ultimate was getting closer – the day I started to be a whore was fast approaching.
To be continued …
