By Xhumil
xhumil@protonmail.com
Copyright 2024 by Xhumil, all rights reserved
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From: Casper429@Slavemail.CC
To: Bailey@slave_psychology.edu
Subject: Brad
Dear sir
Sorry for addressing you by name before sir, I can assure you I will call you sir from now on.
In answer to your question Bailey sir, being stripped on arrival and
pissing myself was by no means the only thing that happened. And how
did I feel? I felt mortified. Brad used to be my younger cousin. He
used to hero-worship me, now he's stripping me naked in front of groups
of people for cheap peer-points! He's become a cruel master
specialising in degrading me for laughs. I can't believe master Brad
feels so much power over me he's happy to hold and direct my erection
in front of other people for a cheap laugh. He's gained a lot of
confidence! I'm sure a lot of this is being taught to him by his dad,
Paul - my ex-uncle. Not Jim, who is our other uncle and dad to Tilly
and Sue. The same Sue that you go to university with. Jim is the better
uncle. Paul, father to Brad and Ellie is not so good, he's mean, and
always has been.
After the adults and presumably the guests'
sisters left us to return to the bar-b-cue, the girls amusedly looking
back at the flattened slave as they were led away by the parents,
things just seemed to get worse. Apart from a directive from Paul to be
back by 1pm the boys were left to their own devices with Brad's new
present; me.
I pretty quickly got the impression that these
boys were not Brad's normal friend group, if he even did have friends
group. I think he'd invited this group to curry favour and join their
gang. I know this because they all had nicknames like Thump, Spad,
Gordy and Slew, whereas master Brad was bing called 'Jenkins'. His last
name - same as mine.
“Get up” Brad instructed. I obeyed and
soon I towered above them, well, they came up to my chest. I was hoping
this height differential would dampen their superiority complexes but
it seemed to make it more exciting to them.
“He's big!” one of them
said, looking at my abs rather than my height. “will he really do
anything you say? Even when your dad's not there to make sure?”
“Its not a he, its a slave, its an it” Brad loftily corrected “Here” he
continued jabbing a cup into the enquirer's hand. “Piss in this and
I'll show you a trick”. The boy paused for a second, then somewhat
shyly turned around and filled the glass whilst trying to hide his dick
from the others.
When done, Brad took the glass and handed
it to me. It looked horrible, I wondered if the boy had ever drunk a
glass of water in his life. It was practically bright yellow and smelt
super strong with an unpleasant warmth radiating off it. I braced
myself waiting for the instruction to pour it over my head, Carrie's
favourite trick, but that didn't happen. "Drink it!" Brad ordered
confidently, to 'woahs' , 'oohs' and giggles from the other boys, all
looking at me intently.
I looked at the steaming yellow liquid,
took a breath and downed it. It tasted of sprouts!!! Not what I was
expecting from a teen boy. I mean, I hated sprouts at that age, as most
boys do, I still hate them now. So here is a boy who likes sprouts, he
eats so many his piss tastes of them.... Fucking weirdo! If only the
others knew this they'd call him Sprout.
“Wow” exclaimed what
I thought was the leader. “its like your own obedient bodyguard or
assassin or whatever” he continued poking at my abs with the other boys
oooh-ing at the idea of a private assassin. Then without warning he
swung his arm back and punched me in the stomach as hard as he could.
It was the worst punch I'd ever experienced. If he'd been stronger he'd
have probably broken his own wrist.
I say worst punch, I was
comparing him with the likes of Bamber who was equally feeble.
Basically his fist was all wrong and his wrist was all twisted. It
basically just folded up on impact and probably sprained his wrist. It
was great, pathetic, but fun for me to be part of. I just stood there
as he hugged his arm pretending it didn't hurt. “Not bad” he said
through gritted teeth. Definitely not earning his nick name of 'Thump'!
“Its not just a bodyguard or assassin, it just my slave, it is obedient
to me, I partially trained it a few months ago before we let my cousin
have it for a while. c'mon” Brad hustled the group towards the woods,
taking over leadership while Thump, the real leader, stumbled up behind
clutching his wrist while trying to recover his embarrassment from
earlier.
Brad led me by a new chain and leather lead he'd
attached to my collar. No doubt this was a present to him from someone
who knew I was to be his gift. As instructed my hands were behind my
head and open, so as to expose myself as much as possible. Initially
the boys buzzed around me excitedly filming and drawing as much
attention to my naked and swinging dick as possible. We paused a number
of times while Brad offered strangers the chance to spank his slave 12
times for his birthday; one for each year. Some laughed and walked
away, but a few took up the offer. There was a mixture of hand slapping
and paddle slaps using a paddle Brad 'just happened to have' clipped to
his belt. I had to bend over and touch my toes for each slapping, a
couple of people even held my dick as they slapped me, following the
advice Brad gave to everyone on 'how to keep the slave still'.
By the time we'd reached Brad's clearing in the woods most of the boys
had also slapped me, some by hand, some with the paddle, but most by
both. They had all also been given a chance to pull me along by the
chain, each change of slapper or chain puller requesting 'a go' from
Brad, who's sought authority slowly gave him ultimate power over the
group. Even Thump asked him for 'a go'.
“Who's heard of
Soggy Biscuit?” Brad asked the group, who was now putty in his grubby
little hands, while he arranged me into a high kneel, where my knees
are on the ground and my calves are at right angles to my thighs while
ordering me to also get hard, but not cum.
“me” said a boy
showing his hand. “I know soggy biscuit” followed by a couple of other
tentative hands, all looking down at me naked and wanking as ordered.
“Well, this is called soggy slave. The last one to cum on it has to
lick everyone else's cum off it.” Brad continued to a brief round of
giggles from the others.
“I'm not showing you lot my cock” snarled
Thump, trying to regain power over his gang. He was too late, the two
boys showing their hands earlier already had their trousers round their
ankles, cocks out and were fluffing up. I kind of got the impression
these two early starters often shared a private wank together - judging
by the way they kept looking at each other's cocks and faces. One of
which, Fap, appeared to be Thump's second in command, a lad with
stunning green eyes and thick blonde centre parted hair.
“It'll be fun” one of the others said, copying the 'pants down' momentum.
“Fine!” Thump snapped after a long pause, knowing when he'd lost, and
desperate not to lose his gang fully “But you gotta do it too Jenkins,
we're not all your slaves too you know”
“Thats fine” Brad said from behind my head where I couldn't see him “Do it together on 3.......1, 2, 3”
Then Brad pulled out his dick! The monster i've experienced but never
seen. I still couldn't see it now because he was behind me, but i knew
from the exclamations of the other boys that his irritatingly huge cock
had now been exposed to them.
Thump didn't move.
“Come
on Thump” goaded Green-eyed Fapp, who appeared to have almost equal
sway over the group as Thump. “I'll give you 3 then I'll make the slave
pull your pants down” he threatened, to giggles from the others.
Strictly speaking he can't order me when i'm with my master, but for
this i'd break protocol. Its a kind of slave discretionary thing
anyway. I'm pretty sure Brad would have supported any move against
Thump's leadership too.
“1.......2.......” Blondie continued. Then
immediately on “3”, without a pause, I reached forward and yanked
Thump's trousers and pants down in one single movement.
And there it was, the Great and powerful Thump's very own Oscar Diggs.
A pathetic nub of boyhood fearfully retreating so far back it was
almost enveloped entirely by its accompanying pair of puffy bollocks.
There was a snigger as Thump looked up almost tearfully.
“Fuck off, right, my dad says it'll get bigger when I'm older.” Thump
said emphatically. Good luck with that I thought, maggots grow into
flies, or dead maggots! They don't grow into snakes. “Anyway its a
grower, not a shower!” he continued glaring at the other boys, his
power and menace as diminished as the tiny nub he was rubbing into the
start of an erection. An erection which showed absolutely no signs of
becoming a grower, or even growing at all.
“Will that get
any bigger?” Brad asked of a very red-faced Thump followed by a few
titters from the other boys. I felt there had been some history of
rivalry between these two, with Thump maybe bullying Brad's either in
the past or currently, they all seemed a bit older than Brad too. I
couldn't tell if Brad's emboldenment was due to his now obvious
endowment, Thump's injury from earlier, or because he had a slave
bodyguard/assassin/whatever to protect him. Or so he thought. If Thump
slapped him now i'd find every excuse not to help. I'd love to see his
face when he sees me driven away in uncle Jim's car this evening,
knowing he'd have to face Thump after the holidays on his own.
Thump appeared to be erect, but it wasn't easy to see, the others were
flapping their arms wildly from what I could see out of the corners of
my eyes, indicating that they were all at full mast, or as best their
weeny weaners could get. That was a lie, some were actually reasonably
gifted in that department. Brad was also hard. I knew this because he
kept poking the back of my head with it.
Suddenly the
beautiful green-eyed blonde tilted my held back and came onto my face
with a triumphant huff. I reopened my eyes in time to see him staring
into them as he wiped his cock on my lips, pressing it gently into my
mouth which I opened slightly to take him in. “Say 'thank you' casper”
Brad breathlessly instructed from behind me.
“Ank oo” I said to
the boy for his 'donation' garbling over his cock still firmly and
pleasantly in my mouth. His some-time wank-buddy was shortly after,
shoving blondie out of the way to deliver torrents against my upper lip
which dripped off my chin onto my chest, I shut my mouth for that one.
Two more came, one in my ear and the other who quickly positioned
himself to cake my forehead, which dripped down off my eyebrows and
fringe.
I obediently knelt motionless as their degradation
rained down on me and squirted at me. Soon only Brad and Thump were
left wanking angrily at each other with me in the middle. I got the
impression that Brad had been saving himself, planning for this very
show-down.
Thump was staring across over my head, presumably
into Brad's eyes as they duelled with their dicks, the other boys
already either zipped up or pleasure fluffing while watching these last
two wankers on show.
Just then “ooowwww, ahh ah!” and he
came, straight over my head narrowly missing Thump with additional
splurges on the top of my head, then pulling my face back so his balls
were in my eyes delivering a final encore down my chest and hitting my
dutifully hardened cock.
Clap, clap, clap! Thump had already
put his tiny cock out of sight and slowly clapped Brad. “good game” he
said sarcastically. “Now lets go and eat I'm starving” trying to avoid
the forfeit they had all agreed to.
“It was a fair challenge, you
gotta do it” Brad rightfully stated, whilst smearing his cum into my
hair with his hand. Brad shook his head in disagreement.
“You've
got to!” Fap demanded. “You've made us do much worse” he added as Brad
took a second take at the boy, not sure whether to believe anything
could be worse than licking each other's cum off a slave. “You've got
to at least cum on the slave then”
“I can't!” Thump growled through
gritted teeth “It doesn't squirt yet!” Realising what he'd just
admitted to “I mean, not in public, why would it?”
“Lick...lick...lick” came a chant which spread throughout the group.
“Do I need to get the slave to make you?” Brad added over the chants.
“Fine!” and Thump bent over and tentatively touched my face with his tongue, earning and underwhelmed groan from one person.
“Properly!” Brad warned followed by Thump licking my cheek and pulling a face, but earning a more involved cheer from his gang.
“There's more” Brad added pointing at my cock then whispering
“...lick...lick...lick” A chanting style which was quickly adopted up
by the others.
Feeding off the minor cheer and possibly realising
he was losing his gang, Thump knelt down, grabbed my still-hard cock
like a hot-dog and licked the full length before triumphantly springing
to his feet with both hands in the air earning a proper cheer and pat
on the back. In a final act of dominance over the defeated, Brad put an
arm round Thump's shoulders and squeezed, as if he was welcoming a new
member into his own gang. “That made up for your teeny tadger” he added
gaining a laugh from everyone except Thump.
The jubilation
ended abruptly for a reason I couldn't workout until I heard Paul's
voice. “Ahh here you are.” he said “Brad, there's a party in your
honour and you're not even there” He didn't sound particularly annoyed,
maybe this was an excuse for him to get away from the party himself.
“Get back up to the house quickly boys, the food is almost gone. Get
some grub before the coals go out and you're stuck with just salad”
There was a concert of groaning from the boys at the idea of salad. As
Brad took hold of my chain Paul put a hand on it “Leave the slave, I'll
bring it with me.” he nodded wisely.
The boys left, with
Brad and Fap leading the pack, and their foiled leader following up
behind. Paul stepped round in front of me. “Look at you! My boy's
slave, or are you the family pet?” he said as he lowered his fly and
pulled out his semi hard cock. It was as big as mine, but no where near
the size I imagined his son's was. In a matter of seconds he'd fluffed
it to a full erection and was pressing it into my mouth. “Brad is going
to enjoy his new toy I can see”, swiping at a bit of cum in my hair
with one of his fingers. “I've been wanting to do this for some time
now and here you are, just waiting for it” he continues along with a
monologue I was sure he'd prepared for this very moment about keeping
me and having me work hard and serve hard. Then just as the monologue
ended he grunted and came, holding my mouth shut to force me to
swallow. “hmmm” he concluded with a hissing laugh “I think we're all
going to enjoy Brad's new toy” spoken very quietly into my ear. I was
glad this ownership arrangement was just for one day and that this was
Paul's one and only moment to abuse me. He said this to scare me, but
Jim will take me away at the end of this awful party and I'll be free
of 'uncle' Paul and his family. This was one time I was glad I was no
longer part of the family with people like him in it. He grabbed my
chain and walked off. Not given time to stand I stumbled on behind till
I could get to my feet.
Back at the house everyone was eating
including the boys. Paul called Brad over “Hurry the food down young
man the photographer will be here soon and you'll need to get your
costume on” I couldn't hear the rest but Paul seemed mildly annoyed at
something and they were both looking at me. At the end of this muted
chastisement Brad walked towards me grinning defiantly.
“It's bird
poo dad, just bird poo on the slave” he called back over his shoulder
with all the plausibility of a wolf in a woolly hat.
“boi,
get a couple buckets of water, sponges from under the sink
and...er...the washing up liquid and ask the girls to wash you” he
ordered at me, pointing to a group of girls, having their own party
within a party on the lawn, presumably the invited boys' sisters,. I
hope 'boi' isn't going to be his thing from now on. Casper is bad
enough, but boi?!!! How demeaning.
I did as instructed.
Slopping the buckets past the other guests conscious of their intense
stares at my naked cock and the drying cum all over me. The girls
squealed with delight at having a naked boy doll to play with, even if
it was 'bird poo' they were asked to wash off. Before long I was soaped
from head to waist. They only seemed to use the sponges to wet me down
and wipe off the worst of the cum, they switched to hands for the rest
of the soaping. As soon as the first girl breached the waist-line
boundary and tentatively rubbed my dick giggling with naughtiness, the
others joined her and soon they were all giggling naughtily while
scrubbing my dick and bum to the amusement of the other guests. All
watching intently over their glasses of drink as my dick was slowly
rubbed to an erection, and my body was bent and twisted this way and
that to the will of the girls.
Before you ask, no, its not
weird at all attending a birthday party naked and being scrutinised
while a bunch of girls soap me up from head to toe in front of the
other guests. OK, sorry, that was sarcastic but its just how I feel.
Not only was I naked and mostly hard at this point with poor visibility
through my soap-stinging eyes, but whenever a girl pulled me backwards
over her knee, the thought of my naked cock being thrust up towards the
guests was deeply disquieting. And then there was the dog-wash position
where one would start scrubbing my back or head while another would
wash my cock like she was milking a cow. I just looked down at the
ground as much as I could. When I did look up i'd see Brad grinning
devilishly knowing the girls were accessing every inch of my body as a
result of his doing. Some of the parents jealous of the girls even came
over and used 'teaching' as an excuse to cop a feel or insert a finger.
Eventually I saw Brad and the family enter the house along with a
photographer, scuttling along behind them with his ridiculous
flamboyance and imaging gear. On one hand it was good they were out of
the way for a while having their family photos taken and Brad no longer
able to gloat at the predicament he'd put me in. But on the other hand,
without someone to give me a new set of orders I was now stuck in this
fucked up nightmare version of The Sorcerer's Apprentice. With so many
guests in the garden I wasn't sure why the family had chosen today to
have their family portraits done.
Now that Brad was away
blonde green-eyed Fid, the champion of the wank competition, came over
and handed me sausage to eat. “shhh, we're not supposed to feed you” he
said pressing his finger to his lips and walking away. As much as I
enjoyed his personal sausage earlier this was even more welcome as i
was starving! The girls had largely slowed down their scrub frenzy too,
which was also very welcome, but none of them had thought to rinse the
lather off me.
As I put the sausage to my mouth my earlier
photography timing question was answered. Paul strode toward me at
speed in some kind of hunting outfit. He thanked the girls then emptied
both the buckets of water over me. Knocking the sausage onto the floor
before I could bite it. I assumed that was the rinse, and the towel
hitting my face was for me to dry as he led me to the house by my
chain, me staggering and stumbling to keep up with him, my erection
bobbing past all the guests like some sort of humorous party gimmick.
They'd clearly timed these photographs to coincide with Brad's new and
temporary ownership of a slave and to wring every last drop of
humiliation out of me!
Inside the house they'd set up a studio
in front of the large fireplace in their lounge. Some of the guests had
come in to watch, cramped up in one corner behind an array of lights
and imaging gear. Slowly, methodically and humiliatingly, for me, we
took a number of arranged images. The first of which were all of Paul's
family and 'their' slave. Paul must have gone to a large stately home
recently and thought that all posh, upper echelon family photos must
have a shooting theme to them, hence their ridiculous outfits. I, of
course, was completely naked throughout, apart from my collar and
chain.
After just Paul's family had finished their terrible
scenes they got changed back into normal clothes and joined the rest of
the family in more awful arranged shots. Some with the all 3 brothers;
Dad, Jim and Paul, some with all the 'girls', this included the
mothers, but most with just Paul's family. Every picture had the naked
slave in it being humiliated in one way or another. In every picture
the slave was naked with cock prominent. In one of the men's scenes,
they all sat drinking and chatting while I was simply a footstool with
the brothers' three pairs of bare feet resting on my back, while I
dutifully licked Brad's feet who was standing holding my lead. I was,
of course, positioned so my cock was perfectly in shot. This seemed to
be complicated for the poor photographer who spent a great deal of time
holding my arse while he positioned and repositioned me, then when he
was happy fluffed me up to the 'perfect angle'. A precise number of
radians known only to him. All these brother and son scenes depicted me
sucking on someone's toes or licking someone's soles.
My
skin tone or 'reflectivity' was never correct in any of the scenes
apparently, which required the photographer to apply alternately powder
or cream to my body for each shot, paying special attention to my penis
or bottom. These parts of me were super important to him for some
reason. So important that Paul needed to hurry him along a number of
times. But the phrase “this is good...ooh yes, very good” seems to be
burnt into my ears now, which rather than being the photographer's
reaction to the fabulous compositions, was actually his breathy
reaction every time he managed to secrete pre-cum from me while
'preparing the reflectivity' of my dick, normally with a finger rammed
firmly up my arse.
The ladies and girls naturally had their
own set of scenes, far more genteel and muted than the men's. I was
mostly depicted as a foot stool or massaging their feet or serving them
drinks while they chatted and laughed. I was generally a background
prop except for one rather disturbing sequence of the ladies and girls
where the slave is undergoing some form of husbandry or as an education
device for the girls . This required me to lay on my back across the
three ladies' laps while they gawped and pawed at my particularly
turgid erection and balls while smiling and laughing, pointing out
features of them to the girls who were leaning in from various angles
also laughing and having a generally great time.
Master Brad
had probably the most compositions with 'his' slave. Some showed him
caning and paddling me, in each I simply stood holding my ankles while
he set to work with the punishments. None of these punishments were
posed for show, he hit me properly and painfully for each and every
shot multiple times. “To get a believable reaction on the slave's face”
I caught someone saying.
I was pictured begging for food
held out and up at arms-length above me by my master Brad. My erection
pointing straight up and towards my master. One had me Hog-tied with
master's foot on my face, me laying on my side so the camera could see
my cock.
But I think the worst of all by far he called
“Wanking to order” - Masterful Brad stands next to the kneeling slave
pouring a thin stream of custard onto its head while it obediently
wanks for him as ordered! It was very simple, but a particularly
humiliating scene I would rather was lost forever and no one ever gets
to see ever ever!
And finally, as requested by a couple of the
adult guests, now decidedly tipsy on cheap wine, the concluding picture
consisted of all three families standing behind the slave, where the
shutter moment coincides with the slave cumming to cheers, jeers and
giggles from all assembled, like some kind of bodily fluid firework
display. “You've made it stay hard all this time, lets see the climax”
one so in-eloquently put it before the composition was assembled.
When the photographer had finally finished faffing about, Paul
accompanied him to his truck to choose his favourite picture for
printing onto holographic canvas, telling the assembled guests that the
official portrait hanging will be in an hour and to enjoy more drinks
in the meantime which the slave will serve. I was then mobbed by guests
requesting drinks while my dick continued to seep and dribble the last
of my cum.
After I had served all the requests for drink Brad
and the boys retook ownership of their slave while Brad showed them and
the other guests his collection of punishment birthday presents. Jim
wasted no time showing the boys and the other guests how to use each of
the paddles, canes and whips on my bare arse and back. I spent most of
the hour gripping my ankles while various people practised their
swings. Some of the guests could inflict agonising blows. Carrie kept
telling everyone “its OK the slave is used to this”, while chastising
me for dancing the pain away or just flinching as tears streamed off my
nose and onto the floor. . Brad quickly took over this authority as I
was now his slave, but added ball squeezes to the reprimands.
I noticed that Jim has an odd spanking style. Its taken me a while to
place what was 'special' about it until I remembered a number of
sessions in the shop I where I work. I was hooded for whole days while
a 'special' customer tried out different implements on me, being
trained up on the use of each one. That customer had Jim's exact same
spanking style and even the rhythm was the same. In these long sessions
at the shop I made up a song in my head to accompany his spanking
rhythm. This helped take my mind off the pain somewhat. I only just
associated them by accident when Jim was showing someone how to use a
paddle properly thwack rhythms instantly re-conjured the song in my
head.
Paul couldn't have called us all back into the house
soon enough, I was becoming quite sore. Brad practically dragged me
into the lounge ahead of the other guests to witness the unveiling of
the abomination which was the family portrait. As the covering cloth
dropped we got a full view of its holographic hideousness! Not least
the stylistic vandalism of hanging a portrait above the very fireplace
the picture was taken in front of. It was like a weird double vision
with one fireplace atop other; one real, one photographed. But the
picture he chose was probably the worst composition of the lot!
This was a picture of just Paul's family. Aunt Jane and little Ellen
were sitting dressed in upper-class period dresses while Paul and Brad
stood in their nobleman hunting outfits, Paul at the back and Brad at
the front off to one side. Hunting outfits with very tight stockings.
The reason for these stockings was now obvious to all.
Both
master Bradley and Paul were standing aristocratically, each holding a
shotgun over one arm staring out into the far distance, looking for
birds to shoot, presumably expected to fly out of the sofa or drinks
cabinet, quite forgetting the thing was set in their lounge! In
addition to the gun folded over his right forearm master Brad was
“masterfully and powerfully pulling back with his left hand on the
shortened chain of his unwieldy naked boy-slave who was on its knees
staring at the large and more superior cock bulge in the tights of its
master. The boy-slave displaying a turgid and dripping erection
demonstrating its love and worship for it's master and his larger and
more superior appendage.”
I remember the horrendous
description exactly as the photographer sold the scene to Paul
initially, while ordering me to wank up a perfect erection in
preparation for the very shot. “and we want copious pre-cum or you'll
be duly punished” Paul barked at the time. This same description was
now being described by the same man to the assembled group of guests
vacuously oohing and clapping. I wanted to die on the spot as the
description was divulged, but couldn't get over how red the side of my
arse was in the shot, no wonder it felt so warm. And the saddest part
of all, apart from my depiction was the sight of Carrie's Dad in the
background sitting on the floor cleaning their guns as though he was
also a servant of Paul's.
“Lets see you all under it” one of
the guests giggled, to a cheer from the others. Paul, Jane, Ellen and
Brad all re-assembled for the guests to photograph the original models
under their portrait. The slave, obviously forced to take the original
pose, wanking to achieve the same turgidity as in the picture above.
This actually felt worse than the original sitting. Then at the end
being thrust toward the cramped guests with my erection swaying wildly
at them. One of the girls grabbed it and pulled me outside by it
demanding cake which I gladly fetched for her, simply to get away from
the throng. She hadn't finished with me though, demanding other treats
to be collected at high speed until Brad and the boys retrieved me.
Thankfully the unveiling signified the end of the party, visitors
finished their conversations and nibbles while I cleared away the
crockery and glasses, sweeping the patio and washing up. Each action of
mine annoyingly micro-managed, scrutinised and corrected by my new
master constantly berating me for the pleasure of his friends. Each
correction accompanied by humiliating or painful punishments from him
or one of the other boys.
By the time the last guest had left
I had successfully cleared and cleaned everything and even moved my
cage from Carrie's Dad's car to Master Jim's, which Jim then loaded me
into before closing it, slamming the boot door and returning to the
house for his final goodbyes.
I curled up in the sudden
silence accompanied only by the occasional sound of my rumbling
stomach, dreaming of my butler training to come at Jim's. He knows
exactly what type of slave I want to be, hopefully in his care and by
the time I get back home i'll have a suit like Eetu's and be able to
serve my family in a Dignified and sullen manner with no more nudity or
humiliation.
Fairly soon I heard the familiar noise of
crunching gravel under foot then the four doors of Jim's car opened and
slammed cocooning us into a safe space. We reversed out of the
horror-show that was Brad's birthday, just the 4 of us; Jim, aunt
Laura, Tilley and me.
Paul can explain to Brad that his
slave was only temporary for the day. i'd love to see that
conversation! Although Brad's gifts were painful when he used them on
me I took solace in how disappointed he'd now be. Just looking at a
bunch of useless punishment implements with no slave to use them on.
Maybe Thump can use them on Brad when they get back to school. That
would be good to watch.
I dozed off for a short while to be
woken by banging on the top of my cage. We still had ages to go to get
back to Jim's, and there was nothing I could do for anyone in the cage,
so I couldn't work out what the disturbance was for. Tillley wouldn't
act like that. I know she was quite out of control when she first
managed me as a slave, but I think she regretted it later and is more
gentle with me now, although she still scares me a bit. Maybe I was
snoring, I hoped not. “Sorry if I snored” I said, pre-empting any
complaints, before rolling round to see how I could be of service.
Regardless how tired and hungry I was I had to serve its my role now.
And there it was “Hello squirt.” said Brad, his face beaming into the
cage as he knelt on the back seat. “look after these for me” he
continued as he placed each of his punishment tools on top of the cage
one by one. “i can't wait to use them on you again boi.”
slave
Thanks to Marko T for the portrait and bukkake ideas