Diet Workshop Shanghai by Master Ivan

[mrivan]

Diet Workshop Shanghai

by Master Ivan


It was a slow evening. Money was always tight when you work for a local package service, making deliveries all over New York City. This night was becoming a total loss. I was considering going home early when the call came in.
“Johnny--you’re top man. Wanna trip into Harlem?”
That brief panic hit me, the one I would always get when I had to go that far uptown into the war zone. And that’s what Harlem was for a young white kid trying to do business in The City. Still, I had done it before and would do it again. The money told the story.
“Sure. How far up?”
“128th St., West side. Coming out of Izzy’s print shop just around the corner from us. Its going to a business, so it’ll cut down the chances of any problems on the delivery end.”
“On the way.”
I had the package picked up five minutes later and was heading uptown. I laughed a bit when I saw the address--”Dieter’s workshop”. I thought to myself, not too much chance of getting ripped off there. Just stay alert on the way in and out of the place and I could be home in an hour.
Funny thing about Manhattan. Some neighborhoods, they got a reputation like if you cross over a certain block, you had better be wearing a bullet proof vest and be driving a tank, or you’ll never get out alive. Truth is, the vast majority of the time, you take care of what you have to do, mind your own business, walk around like you own the neighborhood, keep your mouth shut, and you could walk down the street every day of the week for twenty years and no one will lay a hand on you. And the day you finally get mugged, you’ll be in a clean neighborhood a block away from your own place.
I found the address, and was lucky enough to find a parking spot open right in front. Package in hand, I locked the car and walked in.
It was a clean reception area, almost pristine. Looked like a modeling agency downtown. Except, of course, for the fact that there wasn’t a woman there who weighed less than two hundred and eighty pounds. Four black women sat in chairs in the waiting area, and another behind a desk.
I approached the desk, and told her, “Package delivery.” Reading from the address label, “...for Ms. Desdimona”.
The receptionist smiled, and said, “Follow me.” I heard some snickering behind me, but ignored it.
She led me back to a space which was set up as a lecture room. It held about twenty or thirty women who appeared to be waiting for something to start. The receptionist told me, “Ms. Desdimona will be delivering the lecture tonight, and is about to start. Why don’t you sit down and enjoy. She won’t take long.”
I wanted to object. Nothing attracted me less than to sit waiting in a room shared by almost thirty overweight black women in the middle of Harlem, especially when I was tired and had my car parked on the open street. I fidgeted in my seat. Then she came out.
Ms. Desdimona was a sight to behold. She was the biggest woman there, pushing the three hundred fifty pound mark at the least. Yet, she held herself with a pride and self-confidence that took control of the room as soon as she appeared. She was dressed to kill in black leathers and satin, wearing boots that added almost six inches to her already statuesque height. And as she walked to the podium, she looked straight at me and smiled.
Her eyes cut through me like a knife. I felt suddenly vulnerable, and I started becoming aware of some of the subtleties of the space around me. There was a slight odor around me in the air, sort of like a gym locker room, but different. It was female, and it was musk. I felt myself reacting to it, physically. I began to blush.
Ms. Desdimona had begun her presentation. She started talking about pride, as a woman, as a black woman, then as a big and beautiful black woman. “You gotta recognize the power you have as a big woman. You have no idea how much people can crumble at a glance from you if you look at them with confidence...”
It went on and on, and I lost track of time. I was mesmerized, until a good half hour later or more, she got my attention.
“Take that little white boy back there, for instance.” My eyes looked up in shock, as every eye in the room faced me. “He has been drooling, looking up my skirt since I started here. He’d never admit it, but he’s already my puppy boy, and he doesn’t even know it yet...”
I turned beet red in the face as the room laughed. I regretted not waiting outside for the lecture to end, but my thoughts were quickly silenced as a rag passed over my face and I lost consciousness...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I awoke flat on my back. The room was smaller than the lecture room, darker, and a bit musty. I moaned as a brief headache passed through me, the result, undoubtably, of the drug used to render me helpless. I tried to move, and panicked when I realized I was bound in place. I was strapped down to a low bench, my arms held down below me and my legs spread. I felt drafts in the room on my flesh, and soon was aware that I was naked. I tried to raise my head to look, but felt an additional strap running across my forehead. All I could move were my fingers and toes. A voice behind me spoke, “He’s coming to...”
Footsteps approached. Ms. Desdimona came into view, smiling down at me. I looked back up at her, and asked, “W-what is this?”
She laughed, and a couple of other voices behind me laughed as well. ”Tell ‘im!”
“These women, as you can see, have a problem with their weight. They have a hard time coping with things, such as buying clothes, medical problems, and maintaining a good self-image. So there are centers like this that are set up to help them.”
I listened, unable to do anything else.
“Sometimes, though, their self-confidence can use an extra boost. That’s where you come in.”
I shuddered. I was aware of my bound nakedness in front of a number of these women. To my extreme mortification, I was becoming physically aroused. And their eyes saw it.
“They are tired of being treated like shit on the streets, especially by white boys like you who walk around with your noses in the air, with your high standards and centerfold girlfriends. This is where we turn the tables, and give these women the chance to enjoy a piece of the good life. And you get the chance to see life from the other side.”
I was feeling my panic grow with each word. I muttered, “Why me?”
She laughed again. “No particular reason. You were available. And we had the opening.”
I moaned, pulling at my restraints.
“So what happens now?”
“Well, first off, your car will be found tomorrow, stripped and burned, about twenty blocks from here. Your clothes have already been burned. You are here for keeps.” A wave of fear passed through me.
She rose. I noted that as she stood, her voluminous bulk towered above me. I smelled her musk, knowing it was inches away. While my head was unable to move, my eyes looked, and saw her cunt was exposed. And it was wet.
“Now, boy, we’re gonna have some fun at your expense.”
She stepped over my face, straddling me. I found myself looking straight up into her cunt, less than an inch over my nose and mouth. She spoke again, this time clearly to the other women in the back room.
“Look at him. If you asked him if he wanted a fat black woman on the street, he’d laugh, maybe act disgusted. But check out his dick. He’s hard as a rock, and he wants it...bad.” Laughter behind me, this time from at least a dozen voices.
Suddenly, her fingers reached behind her, took hold of my nipples and squeezed and twisted. I cried out with the unexpected pain, as she demanded, “Beg for it, white boy! Tell me how much you want to taste me!”
“AAaaargh!! P-ple-e-ease!!!”
She twisted harder. “Beg me to sit on your face!”
I begged. “Please, sit on my face!” More laughter behind me, and I felt my balls aching with arousal as my humiliation deepened and intensified.
She lowered herself onto my face. I struggled briefly, trying to turn away, but again found myself totally helpless. My head could not move an inch. The lips of her cunt were opened, and her dripping vagina enfolded my mouth. I tasted her flesh, felt her pubic hair around my nose, and began to taste her juices as well as they began flowing into my open mouth. I moaned.
Again, I heard her voice. “Watch him. He strains to pull free, yet he hungers for my cunt in his mouth. He is open and waiting, and he will soon begin to lick me.”
I was shocked to find her words correct as my tongue sought her out. Disgusted, yet at a pinnacle of arousal, I began to lick her, first around her lips, then between them, seeking out her clit, then later thrusting inside. Soon, she began pumping my face, sawing back and forth, and eventually working up to a most energetic orgasm. I was buffeted by her body, her weight dropping down hard on my face repeatedly as she bathed my face with her juices. She began moaning herself as she rode me over the top, and the flow of juice into my mouth increased, forcing me to swallow. Finally, her climax subsided, and she rested. I tried to find air to breathe. And I wondered what would follow this performance.
That question was answered quickly. I noted that as her thighs closed around my head, I could not hear all her words, nor did I hear the responses from the other women present. Eventually she rose, allowing me to breathe freely for a moment. Quickly, another cunt suddenly appeared over my face. I did not even see her face.
It dropped down onto my waiting lips and tongue, and I began to service her. I moaned in deep arousal, as my cock remained hard but untouched. She rode my mouth to orgasm, and then still another followed her. My mouth was soon exhausted, and the efforts of my lips and tongue slowed.
Suddenly, I screamed in pain as something lashed my cock. I could not see, but knew it was a whip, and it was held by Ms. Desdimona. As the thighs clamped over my ears relaxed their grip, I heard that voice again. ”When he tires, that is the time to teach him how helpless he really is. His cock is his point of vulnerability. Some boys can even cum when they are whipped, so be aware of his reactions. Soon, we’ll fit him with a cage...”
My erection vanished momentarily under the intense pain. So did my exhaustion, as my mouth again resumed its labors, licking and sucking the flesh that forced its way onto and into my mouth, and swallowing the rivers of juice that flowed down my throat.
As the line of women slowly moved, using my face one after the other, my erection came and went, and my struggles lost their power as I surrendered to the inescapable. Every women who had attended the lecture eventually used my face, some several times. Finally, there was a break in the action. Ms. Desdimona again appeared.
“This one will work out well. He only needs a bit of training. Of course, his arousal is a major distraction from his service. And we can’t have him making any messes.”
I felt her hands on my cock, then the grip of metal, and leather. I heard what sounded like a padlock snap. Ms. Desdimona looked down into my face.
“That is a cock cage you’re wearing. It is locked on, and none of the women here will even be able to remove it. I have the only key. It is there to teach you that our pleasure is more important than yours. You will understand how it works the next time you try to get hard.”
As I looked back into her eyes, fearfully, my vision was blocked as another woman mounted my face. As my tongue again began to lick, my erection began to return. This time though, the rings of the cage restricted the growth of my cock, and I felt pain, increasing as my erection grew larger. Soon, I screamed with the pain, and my cock shrank. My tongue slowed, and almost immediately, the fingers again took my nipples and encouraged me to work harder. I was beginning to learn.
The line progressed for hours, as the women used my face over and over again. The place was open twenty four hours a day for crisis intervention, referrals and for members who just wanted to hang out. I remained bound until almost four in the morning, when the receptionist appeared, with two other women.
“Time for your break, boy.” She attached three leashes to me. One went to my cock cage, the other two to a collar they quickly locked around my neck. They released my other bonds, then quickly handcuffed my wrists behind my back. They brought me to the floor, where I saw a plate of food and a bowl containing some fruit juice. I had to lick up the food like a dog, unable to use my hands, as the women watched.
The next step was the bathroom. Again, I had to relieve myself without the use of my hands. I was then stood up in the shower, where I was bathed. Minutes later, I was rebound on my bench.
It was still dark outside. I knew it had grown late, the bars had closed, even some of the women who joined the gathering around me reeked of alcohol. It stopped none of them, of course, from using me, all in the same way.
My cock tortured me for some time, trying to erect itself in its cage. I felt humiliated enough just being their victim, but when my erection came and tortured me, then left equally fast as the punishing pain set in from the confining cage, the humiliation was more than I could bear. Yet, I endured. I had no choice.
I began to learn, within a few hours. When my tongue tired, my nipples would erupt in pain as fingernails tore into them, or perhaps I would feel a folded leather thong lashing across my chest. I would flex my muscles in futility to avoid the inescapable pain, and my mouth would move trying to scream through the flesh that muffled it. Soon, I also began seeing the reward from efforts as my tongue found its strength and sought out the means to give the pleasure that was demanded.
My mind was the biggest obstacle. I would be forced to breathe the odors of their arousal constantly, and my own biology worked against me, trying to build another erection. My desires for relief would grow, and my attention would wander. It was always at those moments that I would feel the punishing rings of the cage, or the hands of those abusing me seeking out more of my pain to guide my efforts. It did not take long before I found my very desire to be my enemy, and I tried to ignore it.
Eventually the room emptied of all but one female assigned the task of watching me, both for my safety and to insure nothing allowed me to either escape or suffer unintended damage. On an hourly schedule, she checked my pulse and circulation, making sure both my limbs and my caged cock were functioning properly, if restrained. About every other time she checked me out, she would also ride my face. The tastes of female juice never left my mouth. I slept uneasily when I could.
Morning found me still bound. I was stiff in my joints, my stomach grumbled, and I had a major headache. My guard, as I began to think of her, hadn’t used me for several hours, apparently knowing I had to sleep at some point. When the morning shift of employees began arriving, their voices awakened me.
I was given another break. Again, the three leashes were used, and I noticed they did not hesitate to give me hard pulls on all the leashes both to guide me and to add to my torture. I was fed, allowed to use the bathroom and shower, then rebound as before.
The lines started again. My face became the focal point for the entertainment, as no less than half a dozen women occupied the room at all times, enjoying the show as I was continuously used.
The day grew hot. I was sweating, and so were the women. As the heat rose, I began to notice the odors changing from the women using me. They were sweating more, and their musk was now combined with other odors I was finding less pleasant. I began to show my increasing distaste on my face.
Suddenly, as the lunch hour approached, I saw Ms. Desdimona again looking down at me.
“You have a problem, boy?”
I looked back, shocked, suddenly being required to speak and not knowing why.
“I-I don’t know what you mean...”
She lashed my chest with the whip which seemed attached permanently to her right hand. As I screamed, she admonished me, “There have been complaints. You are supposed to be worshipping these women. Your function here is to gratify them, to give them some positive reinforcement for their self-image, serving and servicing them like Goddesses. And I am told you appear to find them distasteful!”
I could only moan. She might have just as well asked why I screamed when she lashed my flesh.
“No matter. Your mind-set will also have to be adjusted. It is said that no matter how bad things are, things can always get worse. And for you, they will.”
She smiled cruelly, and I was totally intimidated. She looked at the door to the bathroom, calling my attention to the fact that it was only a few feet from my restrained form. It was the only bathroom there, and all the women needing a facility would be using that one. She walked to the bathroom, and returned a moment later with the roll of toilet paper.
Still smiling, she spoke loud enough to be sure all the women in the room heard her words. “They won’t need to use the paper any more...They’ve got you. And you’re gonna lick every one of them clean after they go.”
My face blanched. Some scattered laughter broke out around me. By reflex, I pulled hard at my restraints again. Then my fear rose again as I heard the toilet flush.
Many of the women the previous day had approached me from behind my bound head, not even wanting me to get a glance at their faces. This woman, one of the largest I had seen as well as the darkest, wanted direct eye contact with me. And she smiled with cruelty.
She straddled my face. I saw the drops of moisture there, and I knew it was neither water nor her natural juices. She had just pissed. And I could smell it. She lowered herself to my mouth, and I immediately tasted it. I moaned, then screamed as she took a tight handful of my hair and pulled. “Clean me out!”
I began to lick. Now, while I had found the tastes of their cunts distasteful, I was being forced to taste their piss. I continued licking her, while her hand remained tight in my hair, until the taste returned to something I found more familiar. She became quickly aroused, and her motions changed as she began working up to a quick orgasm. By the time she came, my cock was again trying to become erect and felt the torture of the cock cage.
Another woman replaced her. She, too, smelled and tasted of piss. I was forced to clean her before sucking her off, and the same was true for all the women who used me that morning. Soon, my mouth and face reeked of the piss, and I could smell or taste nothing else.
There was no lunch. I was used almost continuously thruout the day, with my nipples and chest taking the abuse every time my exhaustion manifested itself. My erection came and went as well, though now it was mostly ignored, or simply laughed at as I suffered. My balls ached and felt swollen, and I knew those sensations would intensify as my captivity continued.
After a short dinner break, with the usual three leashes, another meeting was convened, this time in the room where I served. As it began, Ms. Desdimona approached me and ordered, “Open your mouth!”
I obeyed, and soon found my mouth filled by a rubber cock. As it was quickly strapped in and tightened, I felt it grazing the back of my throat, setting off my gag reflex.
A wave of laughter rippled across the room as Ms.Desdimona began her presentation, this time in a more informal atmosphere, with neither lecturne nor microphone. The other women sat circled around the walls of the room, and I remained bound at the room’s center. I began to get a bad feeling.
“The issue is pride. Black women of all walks of life have to get back the pride that society keeps on knocking out of us. One way of getting it back is to take it away from a puppy like this white boy.”
Snickering was heard, as my face reddened again. Indeed, I knew of nothing that would lower my self esteem any more than it already had been. Ms. Desdimona, of course, knew of many ways, and proceeded to demonstrate.
“This boy is all broken up now, ‘cause he’s had to suck off all us big black women all night. And it got even worse for him when we started using his mouth for toilet paper. Now, its time for him to drop down a few more notches.”
The women laughed again. I blanched, having no idea just how far they would go, and knowing myself totally helpless to resist.
Ms. Desdimona produced something that looked like a strangely shaped funnel. She attached it to the front of my gag. Only then did I notice, as I breathed, that a small amount of air was coming in thru the cock gag filling my mouth. I was becoming very concerned.
The funnel was held steady by my gag alone, my head still strapped down immovably. It occurred to me that anything poured into the funnel would flow immediately into my mouth.
“He has done well serving as our toilet paper. Now, let us try him out as our toilet.”
Suddenly, their intentions became clear. I shuddered in horror as Ms. Desdimona again took the lead. She straddled my face once more, and I began to breathe her intense odors. Now, though, the funnel made for a close fit under her cunt. Seconds later, she began to piss.
My shocked eyes watched helplessly as the yellow fluid filled the funnel. I watched it for the second or so the piss took to flow through the gag and into my mouth. I moaned deeply, feeling the eyes of every woman in the room watching my face as the rush of supreme degradation washed over me. My mouth quickly filled with the vile taste of the piss. Soon, she stopped pissing and watched me. Somewhat non-plussed, she pinched my nose, cutting off my breathing altogether.
“Drink it down, piss boy! You don’t breathe again until you do.”
My lungs soon ached. My last several breaths were saturated with the odors of her piss and her vaginal juices. Now, my mouth was filled with her piss and I struggled to avoid choking. Totally helpless, I swallowed. My mouth quickly filled again, and I swallowed repeatedly until the funnel emptied. Only then did she release my nose. She remounted the funnel, and resumed pissing. Now, having been corrected, I drank it down as quickly as it filled my mouth.
Ms. Desdimona left my face and was immediately replaced by another of the women. She, in turn, began to piss into the funnel, forcing me yet again to drink it all down.
“As you can see, he has been quickly broken. Once the first barriers have been shattered, his resistance dissolves since he recognizes what he has voluntarily done to regain his breathing. A real man would have blacked out or smothered to death before allowing himself to be used in such a degrading manner. This white boy, however, is far less than a man, as you can see. He is a urinal, a cunt licker, a slaveboy useful for little else than what he can do with his mouth. Soon, perhaps before this day ends, he won’t require the funnel anymore, and he will clean you himself with his tongue after he drinks your piss.”
She was right. I felt shattered inside. I could not look at myself in a mirror, not while remembering what I had done and was continuing to do. I was a toilet mouth for these overweight black women, serving simply to entertain them as I was being totally degraded. I found it hard to even open my eyes, although they often forced me to look at them as I served with a simple twist of my nipples.
I wondered what I would have to do when I had to piss myself. With all I was swallowing, I knew it would not be long before it went right through my system and I feared what they would do to me if I pissed while bound.
I did not have to wait long for that answer. Ms. Desdimona brought out a catheter, and began fitting it into my cock. I felt the brief soreness as the thin tube was forced slowly up my urethra, and noticed the slender tube leading from the assembly. To my dismay, the other end of the tube was clipped onto the side of my funnel.
Indeed, as the fourth woman began to piss into my mouth, I felt my own piss begin to flow. I watched in horror as it made its way through the tube, emptied into the funnel and, joining with the piss still flowing from the latest of the women using me, began to flow into my helpless mouth. As my bladder filled again, I knew that soon the flow through my body would be continuous. And until they allowed me to piss normally myself, I would be able to do nothing to stop it. Within an hour, I began to long for the return of the tastes of their cunts.
Less than an hour later, they moved the end of the catheter tube to a floor drain and allowed me to piss the vile fluid away. I was relieved further when the rubber cock was finally removed. I was very concerned, however, when they forced a leather covered ring into my mouth and strapped it into place. Now, I could not close my mouth. One of the larger women there mounted my mouth and, before I could even bring my tongue into play, she pissed right through the ring into my waiting mouth.
“Drink it all down now, boy!”, she ordered. I could do nothing else. She then sat down hard on my face and forced me to lick her clean. She then began sawing back and forth across my face, forcing me to lick her to orgasm.
I didn’t see MsDesdimona for a couple of days. My routine remained unaltered. I was fed twice a day while bound and leashed, showered once every other evening, and spent all my remaining time tightly strapped to the bench. The ring gag had been removed, the better to employ my lips to service them. And I continued to drink their piss regularly, cleaning them each time they used my mouth as a urinal. By the time MsDesdimona arrived for her next visit, my arousal had grown painful and almost continuous.
“As you know, we have done research into the best way to train our puppy boys. At first, they weren’t allowed to enjoy sex at all. And why not? Slaves are there for our enjoyment, not their own.” She smiled, and the dozen or so women in the room laughed.
“Of course, we found soon that they serve best when they are aroused. And they get more aroused when we let them come from time to time. Our experiments have shown that the best timing for their orgasms works out to about twice a week...” I moaned at this. When I had been free, I had been used to two ejaculations a day or more, either with a woman when possible, or by my own hand when female companionship was unavailable.
“So this puppy boy is due today. Of course, they must be made to understand that their orgasms are valuable--they may easily lose the right to them when their service is less than satisfactory. And of course, to remind them that they are just puppy boys, they are soon shown where all their cum has to go.”
There was more laughter with that last sentence, something shared that I would soon learn, I feared.
MsDesdimona unlocked the cock cage. I moaned deeply as my severely chafed cock was freed of the cage for the first time in several days. Soon, it was fully erect, as MsDesdimona stood as she always did, with her cunt close enough to my face for me to smell her musk.
She sat on my face, and I began servicing her with lips and tongue. She soon began juicing up, as her fluids began running into my mouth, forcing me to swallow. She did not remain for an orgasm this time, however, as she soon slid down my body towards my cock.
As she mounted my cock, I moaned with the first pleasure I had felt since being captured. My erection was rock hard and desperate. She looked down at me, as I looked fearfully back, and she said, “Whenever a puppy boy cums, he drinks down his own cum.”
I moaned louder as I knew myself helpless to stop her. My arousal also responded to my humiliation, as I found myself nearing a long-awaited orgasm. I heard laughter in the room again, as the other women there knew I was reacting to my degrading use with even stronger arousal. Soon, my cock began erupting in orgasm as I cried out in pleasure, pumping out an endless stream of cum.
My orgasm finished, I collapsed exhausted. MsDesdimona remained motionless on me, as I felt her weight on my body. I opened my eyes, and found her looking straight at me. She then announced, “Time to clean up!”
She slid forward to my face. She stood briefly above me, her cunt an inch or two over my face, to allow me to see her soiled cunt over me for a few seconds. I soon saw the cum beginning to ooze out of her slit. She smiled, and began to lower herself to my mouth.
I tasted the cum immediately. She straddled my face, rubbing herself across me briefly until my face was covered with the various fluids. She then sat full on my mouth, where I tasted the stream of fluid slowly flowing between my lips and down my throat.
I moaned, knowing my degradation was being watched by a growing audience in the room. I was forced to swallow my own cum, and worse, to clean her actively, licking deep with my tongue and sucking out every drop of fluid that soiled her. It took several minutes, and she took a pleasure on my mouth before she withdrew.
I could smell the odors of my cum now soiling my face, and I could taste it in my mouth. MsDesdimona now returned her attentions to the audience.
“How many of you have prepared yourselves for this morning as I have suggested?”
I wondered at this, hearing perhaps a dozen voices announcing that they had prepared. A line was quickly formed at my face, and the first woman raised her skirts and straddled me.
“Look up into her cunt, puppy boy!” MsDesdimona’s command steeled me again, and I looked. Yes, there was white fluid leaking out of the massive cunt poised above my mouth. She was filled with cum, and this time it was not mine. She had been fucked, within the hour probably, and was still filled with it. She dropped onto my mouth, and I tasted the fluids beginning to drain into me. I was forced to suck the cum of another man out of her cunt and swallow it, and then to bring her to an orgasm with my lips and tongue.
I moaned deeply in my humiliation, as I felt unseen hands replace the cage around my flaccid cock. It took longer than usual to bring her off. Clearly, she had been thoroughly satisfied earlier in the day by a good fucking, and I would have to work that much harder to please her after I had provided my mouth as a receptacle into which she could drain the man’s cum.
All the women who used me that morning were similarly soiled. The volume of cum varied, as did the tastes, but there was no mistake. It was a humiliating training session, one in which, as always, I could not resist use in any way. If I closed my mouth, or failed to lick deeply inside the cum-soiled flesh resting upon me, that flesh would lower itself with more of its weight upon me until I could not breath. Desperately I would struggle until, nearing unconsciousness, my mouth would open of its own accord and begin to lick and suck out all the offensive juices which awaited me. There was always an audience, and by the end of the morning, any hint of resistance or self-esteem I had left was gone.
Now, there were no limits in the use of my mouth. Some of the women were clean. Some tasted and smelled like they had not showered for days. Some were soiled with cum. Some had come to my face straight from the bathroom for bidet service. Some pissed directly into my mouth, and I was forced to drink it down. Some were menstruating. All were cleaned by my mouth and brought to orgasm.
I was fed twice a day and allowed use of the bathroom and shower, always under supervision and on the leashes. I was made to exercise as well, to keep limber and to work off my own body fat. The cock cage left me only twice a week, and the time varied each time to keep my anticipation keyed constantly. My hair was kept trimmed. My body was oiled, massaged, until my skin shone with health. And the bulk of my time, sleeping or awake, I spent strapped immovably to the bench, in constant service.
My car was found nearly two weeks later, burned in the South Bronx. No one ever came looking for me. I had no family and would not be missed. Packages continued to arrive there periodically; sometimes I would even hear a familiar voice as a driver made the delivery only a few feet away in the outer office.
For myself though, there was no more concerns. The outside world ceased to exist. My destiny had been decided for me. I would spend the rest of my useful life strapped to that bench, my face smothered by a never ending line of Harlem’s biggest women.
By the way, be careful. I hear that business has boomed since I was recruited, and they are planning to open some new branches...

Copyright © 1999
Master Ivan Press