Storm Discovery Part 14 - The REAL Discovery

Author: plugged
Title: Storm Discovery, Part FOURTEEN - The REAL Discovery
Date: 03 August 2007

bamaboi2serve@charter.net



The weekend with the Germans ended so abruptly that I worried I had
failed to satisfy them! One minute I was there in the loft being abused
along with their homeboy Berlin slaveboi for their amusement, the next I
was in the trunk of their Mustang, headed back to Master.
Nothing they said to me or among themselves gave me any clues, but a lot
of the time they spoke in their native tongue, and I spoke no German other
than "yes and no", which had been burned into me during their training.
I was sore, filthy, naked, hogtied, and frankly exhausted, but still
concerned. Would Master be displeased with me?

###

When the car came to a stop, I was surprised to see that we were not at
Master's farmhouse outside Atlanta, but at a Spa in a downtown strip mall,
one Master had FS and I go to before for special treatments. It was early
Sunday morning, and there was only one car in the parking lot.
Sirs manhandled me out of the trunk, loosened my hogtie bonds, cuffed my
hands behind me with heavy blask prison-style restraints, and dragged me up
to the spa door where they knocked.
The owner, a man I recognized from earlier trips, answered. As he
greeted Sirs, Verner (Sir!) put his hands on my shoulders and forced me to
my knees. He unzipped the leather pants he was wearing and presented his
cock to me, which I immediately engulfed to the pubes.
The owner wasn't fazed at all...traffic was light this time of day,
after all. I started sucking on Verner's long cock and it immediately
started hardening, standing out like a light pole in a nest of jet black
shrubbery. As the conversation continued, he grabbed my head by my ears and
used my mouth as a sex toy, pounding his now fully erect cock in and out
over and over, cumming in a matter of just a minute or so, filling my mouth
with his man seed. As he had trained me, I did not swallow, but held my
mouth open for him so he could see his load sitting in mouth.
Schmidt (Sir!) then spit into me, and both other men did the same. Soon
I was filled with cum and spit. The only thing missing, I thought was...the
spa owner then pulled out his cock and added the missing ingredient,
pissing in my mouth, which almost immediately filled to overflowing and
started spilling onto my chest and down to my jockstrap covered cock, which
had reacted to the abuse in the predictable way: I was hard and
increasingly horny. I had not been allowed to cum all weekend and was
bursting!
"OK Shit for brains slut boi, here's your chance, now that you have some
lube on your puny little boi penis. You have thirty seconds to cum...go,"
Schmidt ordered.
I immediately grabbed my cock and started pumping, and Verner
immediately kicked the hand...
"We didn't say you could use your hands slut...start over...thirty
seconds...go!"
My first thought was to hump his long leather-clad leg, dog-like, but I
knew he wouldn't approve...so I did the only think left, I lay flat on the
hot sidewalk and rubbed my cock through the jockstrap cloth against the
concrete. The tip quickly peeked out from the top, causing me to scrape the
skin some, but I was enjoying both the heat and the roughness...I had a
full ten seconds left when I shot a huge jet of cum into the space between
my stomach and the sidewalk, a second jet followed and a third...it was
easily the best orgasm I had had in months.
Through it all I had kept my mouth closed tight to retain the mouthful
of cum and spit and piss from the Masters and the spa owner.
That presented me with a slave dilemma. My mouth was full and I did not
have permission to empty it, yet my training told me to immediately lick up
the jism I had spilled on the sidewalk.
I returned to my knees and opened my mouth to show them I had at least
been obedient that way. The Sirs laughed, mocking me, calling me by my
marked name..."Oral Slave"... and made a big deal of getting me to swallow
it all on a count of ten. They were showing off for the spa guy. Several
times they stopped and started the countdown again, spitting in and at me
to keep the supply of foul liquid "fresh"...finally they both yelled "TEN"
together and I swallowed the entire load, breathing heavily though my
mouth.
Remember all of this was occurring OUTSIDE the spa, on the
sidewalk. Several times cars drove past and I could only guess what they
were thinking.
As soon as I had finished emptying my mouth, I dropped to all fours and
started licking my cum off the concrete...not the easiest task I'll tell
you! The cum was congealed at this point, some it dried to the pavement, so
it took some real tongue work to get it up.
Since I was on all fours with my ass in the air, Schmidt (Sir!) gave me
a half dozen smacks on each cheek, leaving his hand imprint as a parting
gift...said goodbye to the Spa guy and got into their car and left, heading
back home to Germany. As they drive off, I could see their homeboi slave
cunt in the back seat, wearing a fierce looking slave mask and heavy collar
that I presumed they would remove before flying home.
The spa Master, I was to call him Master Morris, took me inside and
directed me to a bathtub he had filled with hot water. He wasn;t rough in
handling or ordering me around, more like someone who was telling a
household servant how to perform a chore. Aloof, but not mean.
I spent the afternoon at the spa getting cleaned up. Even Master Morris
had slaves, and two of them took care of my body shaving and washing, After
the weekend of abuse, I felt like a king. When I was done, Master Morris
collected a blow job as a tip...and I made sure he was well blown! Then to
the front door and there was FS, smirking at me, dressed in slave leather,
come to take me "home".
He didn't say much on the way home, but uncharacteristically let me sit
in the front seat with him. He turned on a jazz station, also unusual for
FS, who leaned toward redneck rock or country. Several times I glanced over
at him, but he ignored me, and soon we were back at Master's Farm.
I was surprised to see a large number of cars parked outside in a
field. FS grabbed a heavy slave collar and wrapped it around my neck...then
placed a very heavy leather mask with a cock gag in it over my head. He
left the eye openings clear so I could see, but no speak. I was still
wearing the brand new yellow jock strap the spa owner had given me. My
chest was uncovered, allowed my OS tattoo to be exposed next to FS's
marking.
Attaching a chain leash to my collar, he urged me toward the door. Inside
all was quiet. Nobody was in the tall ceiling room, and we made our way to
the last door in the long hallway...from behind it I could hear a murmer,
and I knew immediately it was the same room where I had been tortured
before my former co-workers.
FS opened the door and pulled me in. The curtain was closed as before,
and Master was standing waiting for me, his beautiful dark skin shining in
the dim backstage light. He was in his full Master Leather outfit and
looked stunning.
"Hello slut," he said, "welcome home! Tonight's the night you meet your
new Master. I've sold you!"
I almost blacked out from shock, but not quite. Then the curtain opened
to a huge crowd and a spotlight hit me as FS led me to the center of the
stage and a St. Andrews cross.