tagNonConsent/ReluctanceHow I Became a Male Slave

How I Became a Male Slave

bymostanything©

She was as attractive a woman as I had ever seen: dark hair that hung below her shoulders and delicately lovely facial features with an alluring smile. Her figure was well filled out, not fat, or even chubby, just well rounded. Her every movement displayed an athletic grace. I estimated her at about my height, 5'10". From the way her breasts jiggled when she moved or laughed, I knew she wasn't wearing a bra but her loose blouse revealed nothing to my eyes, even though I caught myself a couple of times straining to see the a nipple poking out. She wore faded jeans that fit her form well.

I watched her walk into the bar with a young man, shortly after I arrived. They sat at a table not far from me and began talking. They were about the same age - - late twenties to early thirties, I guessed. Both smiled lightly and their conversation seemed casual.

Suddenly I started, realizing I had been staring at her, completely lost in thought, imagining how she would look naked, how she would feel, and going further with my mind's fantasy. My heart suddenly raced as I realized she was looking straight at me, our gazes meeting. I also realized that I had the beginning of an erection. We continued to look at each other for several seconds, but when she smiled slightly, I looked away quickly, feeling a bit confused and embarrassed.

I had not always been this way. I used to be very confident about most things. I had worked my way up in a large corporation to a middle management position, but then as I reached my early forties, things began to fall apart. Self-doubts began as I was passed over for several promotions, and people whom I had considered to be my inferiors were advanced instead. One of them was now my supervisor. In disgust, I had applied for other jobs and discovered no interest in me or my skills.

My growing lack of confidence began to work its way into other areas of my life. I stopped working out, and although I wasn't fat, I wasn't in shape either. Still worse, whereas I had I had never had doubts about my sex appeal to women and my prowess in bed; I had begun to wonder if I was really attractive to women. I began to realize that, although I had had frequent sexual encounters outside my marriage, it was almost always with women at work who were subordinate to me on the job. I began to wonder if they had had sex with me merely because of my position in the corporation, thinking it might help them get ahead. I also begin think that they were laughing at me behind my back and I stopped hitting on them, keeping to myself as much as possible.

Home life also deteriorated. I had been the king of my castle, so to speak. My wife, Beth, stayed home and did what I told her to and I always held the threat of divorce over her head. She knew I had affairs, although I never told her about them, but never objected or complained as I was the one who brought in the money so she could live well. I had been well aware that I was in control, that is, until my self-assurance began to crack. The more unsure I became of myself at work and with my extra-curricular sex life, the less sure I became at home, and the less frequently I had sex with my wife.

Now in my early fifties, my wife and I very seldom had sex. I was sure she only fucked me because of my income and the things we had. Maybe she was even disgusted afterward. In the last six months, we had had sex only once.

Instead of sex with my wife or other women, I began to frequent bars to look for beautiful women. Then I would go home, fantasize and masturbate. Occasionally, I would go to a topless bar, although I felt very self-conscious there.

And so, I was embarrassed, knowing it was ridiculous to think the woman I was looking at in the bar tonight had any real interest in me. She was likely thinking that I was old enough to be her father as she smiled at the "nice old man."

She and the young man continued to talk, bending forward over the small table. I could tell by their facial expressions and lip movements that the conversation was becoming more animated, perhaps from excitement or maybe irritation covered with a smile. Then the man stood, dropped some bills on the table and walked out, leaving her there alone.

After finishing her drink, she rose from the table and come over to the bar and sat near me, a stool separating us. I kept glancing her way, not wanting to seem obvious, but unable to keep my eyes off her. She looked straight ahead and didn't appear to notice me. A couple different men came over and made a pass at her, and each time she brushed them off casually.

"Do you have a light?"

The voice broke through my fantasy, which had been my focus on and off. I realized she was talking and looked over. She had a cigarette in her fingers and was looking into my eyes, a soft smile on her lips. I saw her eyes for the first time - - almost black; they weren't bedroom eyes, but were very enticing with an expression I couldn't decipher readily. Perhaps controlled excitement?

"I'm sorry, I don't smoke." I replied, and then wanted to kick myself. "I'll get some matches." I blurted hurriedly.

Calling the bartender over, I asked for matches, opened the book, removed on and lit it in my cupped hands. She leaned over, putting her face almost in my hands, sucking the fire into the tobacco, then exhaled as she raised up, sending a cloud of smoke over my face.

"Thank you." She said as she inhaled again, then exhaled, sending another wave of smoke over me.

I haven't smoked for years, and normally having smoke blown in my face is a sure path to irritation and verbal confrontation. But for some reason, this was not irritating. It was even - - well - - sexy.

"You're welcome." I replied.

She smiled as she saw my eyes water. "You don't like smoke do you? I can move to another seat if you wish." I saw the expression of excitement grow in her eyes, almost like she was baiting me.

"No!" I said quickly. "It's fine." Then after a pause I managed to say, "I enjoy you being here."

"Thank you." She exhaled again, sending more smoke over me, then becoming serious. "I guess you saw Bob leave. He can be such a narrow minded asshole."

"That was the guy you were with? Bob?"

"Yes - - 'was' is right."

"I'm sorry." I said.

"That's all right." She replied, smiling now. "I don't need to put up with his shit. Anyway, I think I'll have another glass of wine."

I called the bartender over and when she ordered the wine, I paid for it. She didn't protest, just smiled and thanked me.

Raising the glass to her lips, she took a sip, and then exclaimed. "Oh Fuck!"

My breath caught. I find it extremely sexy hearing a woman use explicit language like 'fuck.' I could feel my cock trying to harden more and since it was in the wrong position in my boxers, I knew it was making a bulge in my pants. She glanced down for a moment and I was sure she saw, but she appeared not to notice.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"We came here in Bob's car. Guess I'll have to take a taxi home."

"I can take you." I said quickly.

"I can't bother you to do that. We don't even know each other."

"I don't mind at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Please, I would like to."

"Thank you." Then, "My name's Susan."

"Hello Susan. I'm Terry."

As she leaned over the empty seat between us, I took her extended hand, feeling her firm handshake. I didn't want to let go of the soft, warm hand, but after a few seconds she gently withdrew it but let it rest on my knee for a moment, then straightened up.

She took another sip of her wine then said. "I'm ready any time you are."

Standing, I dropped some bills on the bar for my own drinks and a tip, then realized that she was already moving toward the door. I hurried to catch up with her but she moved quickly enough that I could only walk behind her. Once outside, she stopped, waiting for me to show her the way to my car.

I opened the door and as she slid into the seat and moved her legs inside, had a quick vision of that ass sliding across my chest, those legs rubbing against me. On the way home we chatted. I answered her questions and was honest with her as I told her I was married. I lied, however, when I told her I was only in the bar that night because my wife was out of town visiting relatives

Susan told me that she was single and had been dating Bob for a couple of months. He had moved some of his things into her house, but actually lived in his own place. Sex had been good, she informed me casually, as though talking about food, but he had turned out to be a controlling prick who didn't want her to have the freedom she desired.

Following her directions, I arrived at a nice house, not large, but very nice, and pulled into the driveway. The garage door was closed and I assumed that her car was there. She started to get out, then paused.

"I do appreciate this. Would you like to come in for a drink?"

I saw the look of excitement in her eyes again for a moment, then it disappeared again behind her smile.

"Sure."

Shortly, we were standing in the living room, and she had poured me a drink.

"I have to go pee." She said, turning and leaving me alone.

Looking around the room, I was fascinated with the paintings on the walls and figurines on shelves, nude figures both male and female. Then my eye was caught by a painting of two men, one standing facing and the other kneeling in front of him, his face in the other man's crotch. It was obvious from the expression of the standing man that he was getting blown by the other man. Although I had never felt I was attracted to other men, I found this painting very erotic and I rubbed my hard cock through my pants as I feasted on it.

"Terry." I heard her voice calling and made my way toward the source, entering the master bedroom.

A few feet into the room, my breath caught and I stared - - not at her, but at a sculpting on a table. It was about three feet long. A man was on his back and a woman was straddling his hips. She was raised up a bit and had her head thrown back. Half of his cock was visible; the other half being inside her. Both had expressions of sheer ecstatic lust. I was unable to tear my eyes away until I heard her voice again.

"Terry! Over here."

My breath caught a second time. I was looking into a large mirror over a bathroom counter and she was clearly visible, sitting on a commode, naked from the waist down, her legs parted. She was grinning.

"You like my sculpting?"

I nodded, unable to speak, looking back and forth from her to the sculpting, then back to her, then back . . . .

"I like it a lot." She said. "But I called you in here because I am out of toilet paper in here. There is paper in the cabinet in the other bathroom down the hall. Would you go get a roll for me? I don't like to walk with shit squishing in the crack of my ass."

I turned and hurried down the hall, not believing she had used language that explicit with a near stranger. I returned and handed her the toilet paper and watched as she wiped herself, front and back, then rose. I could see her black and neatly trimmed bush clearly now. She walked to the counter, picked up a bottle of lotion and squeezed several drops on a tissue. Then bending at the waist, she reached behind her and began to clean herself, giving me a clear view of her pussy and asshole.

I couldn't move until she straightened up, facing me as she unbuttoned her blouse.

Then the fullness of my bladder hit me and I started to turn.

"Where are you going?" Susan asked.

"To the other bathroom to pee."

"You can pee in here." She grinned. "Look, Terry. I am a very open woman. I say what I think and I use plain language. I keep paintings and other things I like in my house; I go around my house as I want - - usually nude. I'm not ashamed of my body or nudity or sex and I want others to be the same around me. Don't be embarrassed if you need to pee or shit. I won't be."

The room began to look surreal as she approached me and unzipped my pants. I was sure that this was not really happening.

"I want to see you try to pee with that hard-on you've had since we met." She laughed. "I saw the bulge in your pants in the bar."

I thought that I might as well go for it and unbuckled my belt, taking off first my pants, then my boxers, revealing my raging erection. I moved over to the commode, pulled back my foreskin and began to strain.

Susan began giggling when nothing came out. "Nice cock, but doesn't seem to pee well."

Just then the first thin spurt of pee shot out under pressure, hitting the water in the commode. I grinned at Susan as I continued to pee and empty my bladder.

When I finished, Susan said. "I love watching a man pee; it makes me real horny."

I know my cock must have grown an additional inch just then. If there was one thing I wanted, it was for this lovely, naked woman to feel horny. Then almost unbelievably Susan said:

"Take your shirt off, Terry. I feel like having some fun."

I hurriedly removed my shirt and stood naked.

"Lie down on your back on the bed." Her voice was soft, even matter of fact, not like she was giving an order, but I complied quickly as though it were one.

Susan climbed on top of me, straddling my chest. I could feel her wet pussy touching me and my breathing became ragged.

"I don't have any rubbers at the house, Terry, and so you can't fuck me. But we can still have fun." She began to hunch, rubbing her pussy over my chest, moving to one side, coating one nipple with her juices then to the other side coating the other. I knew she was becoming more excited as she began hunching faster. Then she took my right hand and raised it to the corner of the bed, putting it through a loop. I hardly noticed and she did the same to my left hand.

Reaching up over my head, she grasped something and pulled. I felt no apprehension, only lust as my arms stretched.

"Want to eat me?" Susan giggled. I nodded and she moved over my face, but keeping just out of reach of my raised head and outstretched tongue. "Want to lick my pussy?" I watched excitement fill her eyes as she teased me, moving her pussy over my face but far enough away to keep me from reaching my goal.

"Please." I begged.

"Are you hot now?" Susan asked.

"Yesssss." I gasped, whereupon she got off me and stood beside the bed.

"He's ready, Bob." I raised my head in shock and apprehension and saw a figure walk into the room. I recognized him instantly as the man who was with her at the bar. He was completely nude, sporting an erection.

"What the hell . . ." I started to say, but they ignored me, walking toward each other, kissing, her hand reaching down and caressing his cock.

"This is my husband, Bob." Susan said, grinning at my surprised expression and continued to caress his very hard cock. "Yes, husband. We love to fuck and we get off better when we have someone to use, or perhaps abuse, during sex."

Both laughed, and Susan continued. "Bob and I are going to have fun tonight. It's up to you whether you enjoy it or not. That will depend on whether you obey our one rule. You must do as Bob and I tell you - - especially me. If you do not, I will punish you, and I really enjoy dishing out punishment."

Bob grinned, as one of his hands caressed Susan's ass. "I would advise you to listen to Susan, because she does enjoy punishing men and I enjoy watching her do it."

"Go ahead, Bob, he can suck you first." Susan said, motioning toward the bed.

"Suck? I'm not going to suck anybody!" I said, my voice becoming high pitched with fear.

I had never sucked a cock before and didn't intend to start. The closest I had ever come to that was eating my cum out of my wife's pussy a couple of times when we were younger and I was very excited. I had found it very erotic at the time, but was ashamed afterward. And now this woman wanted me to suck another man? No way! I continued to protest until Susan brushed past Bob and straddled my chest again. Her hand moved in a blur and I felt a sharp sting in my left cheek, then it came back again and I felt pain in my right cheek.

SLAP! SLAP!

It was more than just a sting; I realized that she has slapped me hard and then brought her hand back, backhanding my other cheek. She was breathing hard, breasts heaving. I sensed immediately that her breathing was not from exertion, but from the excited pleasure I saw in her eyes.

"God! That was fun." Susan giggled, looking at my shocked expression, then slapped me again. I knew she could see the humiliation in my eyes.

Bob moved over and kissed her hard on the lips, fondling one of her breasts as he did. He grinned at me and then noticed the blood on my cheek.

"Baby, you cut his cheek when you backhanded him. You need to take off your rings."

"Oh! Poor Baby!." Susan smiled with mock sweetness. She took her rings off and handed them to Bob as she continued. "It's his fault. If he had done what I told him to, he wouldn't have gotten his face cut."

As Bob put the rings on the dresser, Susan scooted down to sit on my stomach, then grasped several of my chest hairs between her thumb and finger, yanking them out roughly. She giggled again at my grunt of pain.

"You will suck Bob's cock." She said. "When, depends on how much pain you want me to inflict first. I hope hold out longer because I am really enjoying this."

I knew by her expression that she was telling the truth. She would be happy to pull every hair out of my chest and then move on to God knows what. I slowly nodded.

"Set up the camera first, Baby." I heard Bob say.

Panic set in as Susan got off me and I watched her walk into the closet and return immediately with a video camera on a tripod.

"No! Please!" I screamed in terror, knowing how disastrous a video of this could be.

Having focused the camera on my face, Susan straightened up and smiled sweetly. "Scream one more time, or even look like you're not enjoying this and I will smash your balls to mush."

I became silent, very sure she would not only do it, but enjoy it, and Susan to Bob and who straddled my chest, his cock resting on my chin. He began to hunch slowly, rubbing his cock up and down, over my lips, touching my nose. Then with his hand, he moved it all over my face. I could feel his precum smearing on me.

"Susan honey, prop up his head so I can fuck his mouth." Bob said, and Susan grabbed my hair, pulling my head up roughly and pushing pillows under it.

Bob tried to push his cock into my mouth, but I kept my lips sealed, looking into Susan's eyes, begging her with my own. I knew I had lost when I heard her giggle again and then felt a numbing pain in my balls. My mouth opened as I gasped for air and in that moment, Bob pushed his cock inside.

Susan giggled again. "Look at that, Bob. I thumped his balls and he opened right up."

"Suck it!" Susan commanded.

I hesitated again and felt more pain in my balls, this time enough to nearly make me throw up. I didn't, however, fearing what she would do to me it I had.

"Suck Bob's cock!" I heard her command again, and this time I began to suck weakly as Bob began to thrust in and out, fucking my mouth.

Susan had disappeared from my view and I suddenly felt a warm, wet tongue on my own cock. I knew it was Susan. Her tongue moved up and down my shaft, which I realized had been very hard before she touched it. She did not lick the head of my cock or take it into her mouth, but moved to my balls, licking, them back to my shaft again.

I was concentrating on her tongue so much that I didn't realize I was sucking harder, licking his cock with my tongue as it plunged in and out of my mouth. I was lost in a haze of lust, focusing all of my pent-up sexual energy into sucking Bob's cock, bringing groans of pleasure from his lips. I came back to reality as I heard Bob shout.

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