BDSM Library - The Bastard Who Made Me Howl In Lust

The Bastard Who Made Me Howl In Lust

Provided By: BDSM Library
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Synopsis: An experienced Master enjoys breaking in a new slave.

In His email He had said what He wanted in unequivocal terms. He was consistent, demanding and brutally curt. He had an arrogant way of stating His expectations and a crudeness in describing them, which had riveted my attention and overwhelmed my misgivings. I stood on his doorstep, my stomach churning with apprehension and managed to knock only feebly on the knocker. I was still trying to brace myself when the door opened quickly and made me jump. “Ah, you,” he said by way of greeting, “You're late. Come in.”

I started to apologise but He cut me short, saying, “Oh you'll be sorry all right.” He shut the front door and somewhat ominously he locked it before leading the way into a sitting room. The room was furnished sparsely with a sofa, a large black poof and a full length mirror on the wall. He was taller and leaner than I had expected, a full six feet plus and not a spare inch of flesh on his body. He looked me up and down coldly and sat down on the sofa. “Get naked.” There was no pre-amble, no politeness in his voice or manner and for a moment, I was stunned. I looked at his cold grey eyes but there was no expression in them. I slipped off my jacket and fumbled with my shirt and tie, becoming increasingly hamfisted in my attempts to be quick and self-controlled. I tried to put my clothes neatly on the floor but he barked, “Don't waste my time, cunt, get naked and kick those clothes in the corner.” I undid my trousers and in haste, pulled them and my underpants down my legs, trying to slip my shoes and socks off at the same time. Needless to say, I got them knotted in the process and ended up nearly falling over as I kicked them all into the corner of the room. Flushed and embarrassed, I turned back towards him, my cock filling instinctively in response to my surrendered nakedness.

“Get up on the poof,” he ordered flatly and I stepped unsteadily onto the firm leather block and put my hands behind my back and tightened my tummy and buttocks. He ordered me to turn round slowly which I did fearful of toppling. “Now stand still cunt. From now on, until I dismiss you, you have no name. You are simply cunt. I expect cunts to provide total obedience. They are cock slots for my use. I know you want to play Masters and slaves. Well I don't play games unless it appeals to me. But I do use cunt meat for my amusement and perhaps even my pleasure. But that depends on how obedient, quick and useful you are. Understand, cunt?”

I started to say, “Yes, Sir,” in a voice thickened by sexual arousal but he cut me short. “Cunts don't speak, they nod and shake their head to acknowledge and obey without question.”

I nodded and felt slightly giddy as if my will power was draining out of me. I was not an independent human any more but suddenly a cock slot for his entertainment.

 

“Stand on the floor and bend over, hands on the poof, legs straight and parted.”

I obeyed, blood rushing to my head in my state of excitement and confusion. I heard him get up and glanced his way. He moved behind me and gave me a sharp slap on the right buttock with his hand. “Cunts keep their eyes fixed on the floor three feet in front of them. If I want you to look at something I will tell you.” Suddenly he pinched me hard on the buttock where he had slapped me making me writhe up with shock and pain. I raised my head and exhaled sharply and caught sight of the reflection in the mirror. I was pale and bent in submission and he stood behind me in jeans and dark sweat shirt, confidently and coldly appraising my nakedness. “Stay bent and part your arse cheeks with your hands.” With trembling hands I parted myself, tensing at the act of such total intimate surrender. “Stick the index finger of your right hand up your cunt.” In the mirror I could see him observing me, as I started to finger my tight clenched hole. It hurt without lube and although I wanted to show obedience, my hole was dry with fear. I bent my knees and struggled to insert my finger into my unyielding anus. Slowly the finger reached up to the second knuckle rasping at my unwilling sphincter.

 

He spoke impatiently, “Show me your finger, hold it out behind you.” And he grabbed it and lifted it to his nostrils. “Suck it,” he commanded, “and tell me how it tastes.” I put the finger to my mouth and bit down gingerly on it. He watched me in the mirror and slapped my arse once on each cheek. “I said suck, cunt. Lick it clean with your tongue and tell me the flavour.” I sucked hard on the bitterness of shit blanking my mind to the horror of it. “Bitter isn't it?” and I nodded. “I expect cunts to be clean for me and you're a smelly dirty cunt, aren't you?” I nodded again and, swinging his arm high above my back, he slapped me hard on the bum four times, making me wince each time. “Hands on the poof again and lean well forward.” A hand brushed between my thighs and he grabbed my swelling cock drawing it down between my legs, milking it strongly in his grip. “Has this cum in the last 24 hours?”

I shook my hanging head, holding my body tense in fear of what he might do to my slave cock, but knowing that it like all of me was surrendered to his use. “And it won't, unless I give permission cunt. Understand?” I nodded this time in acknowledgement that all of me was under his command.

“Right, we are going upstairs to my cunt room. I want to see how well you can perform for me. Stand and walk ahead of me. You won't go far or fast like this.” And still holding my cock firmly in his hand, stretching it painfully back and up between my buttocks, he guided me out of the room. Although my balls were crushed up against my buttocks so I felt as if they were going to get stuck in my crease, my cock was hugely stimulated by his vice like grip and I found it strangely comforting and exciting to be walking up the stairs in front of him and under his control.

 

“First, we are going to clean you in the bathroom,” he said turning me to the left. He pushed me to an open Turkish toilet and ordered me to bend forward. My bare feet gripped the ribbing of the porcelain footstands and I leant forward hands on my knees, rounding my bum for the humiliating treatment I knew I would have to undergo. I could not see what he was doing but I heard him turning on a tap. Without letting go of my cock with his one hand, he pressed a small hard object to my arse with the other. I felt warm water running down my legs and then hosing directly onto my anus. It lubricated me and made me easy to enter. The instrument forced its way several inches into my rectum and I could feel the water begin to flow inside me. The swift and impersonal way I was handled raced ahead of my ability to resist. I was utterly humiliated by the way my anus had surrendered so totally to his intrusion and all I could do was concentrate on coping with the mounting discomfort as the water pressure built inside me.

“Clench your bum, cunt,” he ordered and withdrew the nozzle sharply. I thought I was going to shit at once but I screwed my anus tight and as soon as he said, “Squat!” I crouched and shot a stream of water down the toilet, ending with a mean fart as I expelled it all.

“Get up and bend over, touching your toes,” he commanded dispassionately. I feared a second dose of cleaning and braced my pulsing anus for the insertion. I wasn't braced for the whirr and slap of a belt searing across my presented buttocks. It was the noise which made me jump first, followed immediately by the skin shock of the violent impact sending a wave of sapping pain into my belly. I stumbled forward in shock and regained my balance just in time to receive two more powerful lashes burning into my flesh. I could not help but whimper as I breathed in sharp agony, wriggling my bum and scrabbling to reach down for my toes and hold my footing on the foot marks.

“Did I say you could shit, cunt?” he asked with icy coldness. I shook my head, grateful in my pain rack to be forbidden to speak.

“Let's get one thing understood. Cunts do exactly what they are told, or they get belted. HARD.” The nozzle jammed up my anus again and I held my position with contrite submission, not daring even to flinch. Water flowed into me for what seemed like minutes. I felt my belly fill and stretch under the pressure. “reach through your legs and hold the nozzle in your arse. Now clench and squat,” he ordered and without hesitation I did as instructed, ramming the nozzle into myself and feeling it score against my rectum as I squatted. Even with my sphincter tightly clenched, water began to flow down my legs from my parted buttocks. I tried to control the shaking in my legs and ignore the pressure pumping my belly painfully. I squatted in misery and longed for him to give me release and at last, he ordered, “OK, remove it and shit, cunt.” I pulled the nozzle from my bloated anus and for a brief moment, my bowels did not react and then the water gushed from me in a long continuous stream. I held the nozzle down to flush the effluent away. The stream from within me flowed for several seconds and I felt relieved and yet more bound to him by my willing degradation.

“Ok, cunt, you're ready to prepare me for pleasure. Turn and kneel on the footpads.” I knelt on the cold hard footmarks and saw his naked legs in front of me, on the edge of the porcelain. I glanced up carefully to register that he was now naked as well. “Address your cock master with your eyes and mouth. You may speak to me, cunt. Tell me your wants and needs with proper submission.”

I looked up at his filling cock, hanging long and menacing above my face. “Please, Sir,” I began, knowing that what I said, I truly felt in my abject surrender. “Please, Sir, may I have the honour of serving your cock as this obedient cunt desperately wants to do.”

“You had better do it well, cunt, and show me all your desperation and obedience without hesitation. First you will drink my piss as I sterilise your face. Put fingers in your mouth with both hands, one on each side and prise it open so your gob is stretched wide and stays that way. Don't spill a drop or you will be belted and you know how that feels.”

I placed two fingers of each hand in my mouth and stretched it painfully wide, lifting my head and tilting it back like a human urinal for his use. I watched him lift his cock and pull it out, making the knob slip out from the tight foreskin. His cock was growing majestically and stood out semi-erect from luxuriant pubic hair below a taut flat belly. I was admiring his physique when he started to piss and a yellow jet rose without warning from his cock head and looped in the air towards me. For a moment I was transfixed by the beauty of it, oblivious to the reality of being pissed on. It is an image I still recall with excitement. Then the piss splashed into my eyes and down my cheeks and the reality of it hit home, hot and stinging with the acrid burning of pent up urine. It smelt of his manhood and smeared my face with pungent degradation.

Although I knew I should catch his gold in my mouth, I could not help but duck and take the jet on my hair, feeling it spill down my head and onto my shouders. He grabbed my hair and pulled me up to jet directly into my open supplicating mouth. The taste of salty acid assaulted me violently and I gagged but pressed my fingers hard against my lips to control the urge to close my mouth. I gulped in desperate clutches to cope with the hot stream washing into me. He pushed my head back and pissed into my nostrils so I was overwhelmed by the force, the smell and heat of it. I felt myself suffocating from the liquid running up to the back of my nose and searing down into my throat. His cock projected strong and full as he aimed it back into my mouth and pissed directly down my gullet. The splashing burn choked me as I gulped to take the piss flow and obediently receive it all. My belly already weakened from the enema, churned from nausea and I thought I would vomit, my whole body jerking forward but my mouth still open and surrendered. The grip of his left hand tightened on my head and he kept me still and subordinated like a living potty for his pee. “That's better, cunt,” was all he said, paying no attention to my struggles as the pee eased to a trickle. His cock slackened and he shoved it into my working mouth to expel the last concentrated drops onto my tongue, pulling his cock long with his fingers so the knob swelled big between my eager lips. For a moment, he looked down at me with cold satisfaction, appreciating the pleasure a man takes from a good pee, this time clearly enhanced by my suffering surrender as his pisspot.

“You like being a pisscunt, don't you, you grovelling little fuck meat?” he taunted me, slapping his cock about my mouth which I still held prised open at his mercy. He slapped my nose and prodded the swelling knob in my eye. “Get a good look at it, cunt. You are going to know every inch of it, down your throat and right up your arse.” I nodded with pathetic eagerness, traces of pee and tears in my eyes which were widening like my mouth, as his cock stretched huge and hungry before me. He leant forward to slap his cock on my forehead while his soft balls grazed hairy on my chin. Instinctively I reached up to render homage to his cock with my mouth, my tongue straining forward to lick the imperial purple knob.

“Not yet, cunt. You stretch your tongue to lap my arse soft and clean before you have the honour of being a cock sucking cunt.”

 

To be continued…………

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