Slave to Two Hung Masters

I hadn't gotten the butt play before. I hadn't told him I was a submissive bottom. He must have heard that from elsewhere, because he most certainly was giving me the extra service that I'd heard bottoms got with their massage.

He told me he was going to use a dildo on me, and I didn't tell him no. He pulled my body back down the table, hooked my ankles on his shoulders, and then started working my ass with a dildo. I pulled my legs back down and raised a bit on my knees, enough to get a hand under my belly. I jacked off again while he was opening the passage ever wider with the dildo.

When I had come, the dildo came out and he pulled me back full onto the table. "More back work," he said.

I felt the weight of a knee at the small of my back, and two strong arms going under my pits and then up into a full Nelson hold. My torso was immobilized. This was a standard massage move. My shoulder blades would be arched back, with the knee buried in the small of my back, I would hear a crack, and my spine would be in full alignment. The knee came out of my back and went between my thighs, pulling them apart, which was not part of the standard movement.

Someone else was in the cubicle, because other hands were pulling my legs up and hooking the ankles on the shoulders of whoever had me in a full Nelsen—and now had my body stretched and curved like the runners on a rocker. The body on me was larger than Kassem's—much larger. The arms holding me in a full Nelson were much beefier.

The bulb, a massive, throbbing bulb, of a cock was at my hole, resting just inside the puckered rim, Kassem's finger and dildo work having opened me up significantly. I knew it wasn't Kassem. I knew it was Magnus Amundsen, having bribed Kassem, and coming in as a substitute masseur.

I knew I was going to be fucked thick. I fought to keep my passage relaxed, open.

Amundsen started rocking our bodies back and forth, his cock entering me deeper with each revolution of the rock. I struggled against him and did some mouthing off, none of which brought any help. Increasingly, I didn't want help and my struggles grew weaker the deeper inside me that he moved.

It took him nearly five minutes to hit bottom with his cock, and another ten minutes of rocking before he released his seed inside me.

I had not wanted to lose control to another man like this ever again, but my body—my passageway—betrayed me. I hadn't had a man so totally big-cock-possessing me like this since The Major. As if my walls had been starving for throbbing stretching to the limit, the muscles undulated over the invading club, making love to it, pulling it in, and rippling over it as I panted hard, frightened that the walls wouldn't hold, but also willing it to invade deeper and deeper, which, relentlessly it did. My passage wanted the big cock. I ached to be possessed and fucked like The Major had done it.

The bulb throbbing at the quick of me, as possessing as The Major's had been, the betrayal came pouring out of my slack mouth. "Yes, yes. Fuck! Shit! Nail my ass to the table!"

I knew my surrender would be full if I gave in to this Norwegian stud. I was back with The Major, the master. Except that this was a new master. All resistance was futile, any decisions on what or who I had inside me were no longer mine to make. When he had seeded me the first time, I would be his to command. Just like with The Major.

The Norwegian laughed a low, gravelly laugh, and began to pump. At the point of ejaculation, I gave voice once more to my new master. "FUCK yes, give me your seed. I am yours! Do what you want with me!"

When he was done, I lay there, panting, no fight in me. He had given me all of his cock and had cum inside me. I was his now. He realized that or at least suspected it.

The question was "Now what?"

He went back on his haunches between my thighs, as I panted and recovered. His hands went to my oiled back and arms, and he massaged them, not doing as well as Kassem, but doing well enough.

The world was waiting for something. After conquering me, he hadn't left. He was still kneeling between my thighs and massaging my torso. I knew I had totally surrendered to him and he could do whatever he wanted with me now. Apparently he wasn't sure, even though I had cried out his victory, my surrender.

I turned on my back, lifting a leg over his head, but not bringing the ankle back down any further than his shoulder. Lifting the other ankle to his other shoulder, I now was facing him, completely open to him. Moving my arms above my head, I gripped the top edge of the table and raised my hips off the table, bringing the bulb of his cock back to my dripping ass opening, while giving Amundsen a look of surrender. In supplication to him, I was presenting my ass passage for his pleasure.

"Do what you will. Fuck me again. Do anything you want," I whispered, which elicited a hard look from him. I had asked for it. He hadn't stated that I was going to get it. This was not yet a slave-master relationship as he evidently wanted it to be.

Moving up with his knees, he slid them under my buttocks, reached down and under with his hands, squeezing and separating the orbs, pulling my hole open to the maximum it now could offer. His cock slid inside me and he pumped me deep, vigorously, and hard, as I grunted and groaned and moaned and cried out variations of "Nail me. Nail me hard" and "Yes, yes, fuck me! Fill that hole!"

There was no question now that I was totally his—not just in my mind. In victory, before coming but after I had done so again, with Kassem moving his hand between us and beating me off, Amundsen went up on his feet on the massage table, bringing me up with him, his cock still buried and thrusting inside me, his hands gripping my hips, my legs hooked on his hips, and my body streaming down to the surface of the table, my hands thrown over my head, gripping the top edge of the table. He fucked on for fifteen more minutes, adding cum to his previous deposit.

We lay there, stretched out on the table, Amundsen pulling me into his belly. One arm was under me, his forearm bent toward me, his hand gripping my throat. His right leg was thrown over my calves, holding me in place, my buttocks jutted back to his other hand, palming my butt, two fingers in my ass, digging, pulling back, digging again. His face was over mine, his eyes looking intensely into mine. Kassem was gone now. Most of the lights in the ceiling floating above the tops of all of the cubicles and sections of the club were off and no sounds could be heard to cover my heavy breathing and whimpering.

I tried raising my face to his, to go into a kiss. He jerked his head up. It wasn't going to be that kind of a fuck, that kind of a relationship. I let out a little yelp as the third—and then the fourth—finger went into my ass. I tried to raise my right leg to open my hole more to him, but he held me in a vise grip with his leg. He twisted and lowered his mouth to my left nipple and chewed on it. I stopped any semblance of struggle. I was his, to do what he wanted with me. Obviously he was testing and demonstrating that.

I gave a little cry as he pushed his hand into my ass up to the knuckles, spreading his fingers inside me, testing the limits of the stretch of my channel. He began to hand fuck me. I did everything I could to relax. I knew I couldn't ask him to do anything he was doing. I knew the whole point was that he was in control and my role, as his slave, was just to take it. He was going to test my limits in this way to assure himself that I would take it. I closed my eyes and worked on controlling my breathing as he fucked me with his hand—a larger one than Kassem's had been, the knuckles bruising my rim, my channel walls in convulsions over the unnatural invasion.

He pulled his hand out, and turning me to belly down on the table, he grabbed my wrists in his fists, forcing my arms over my head, saddled himself on my hips, thrust inside me and fucked me hard, brutally to his third ejaculation. I laid there and took it, silently. I dare not tell him I was enjoying it, even though, on several levels I was. I just lay there under him, taking the big-cock fucking. It didn't matter that I'd taken his cock twice already. It seemed to grow with each fucking.

He really was no different than The Major was. He had campaigned to conquer me. As soon as he had nailed me to the quick and bathed me in his cum, he was my master and I was his slave. He would use me cruelly now, and I would let him. My arousal would be highest when he did.

Not unlike The Major, to drive home and brag of his domination, Amundsen took me back to the UN barracks that night and shared me with whoever wanted a piece of me. I opened my legs to any and all—because he told me to.

I never blamed Kassem for giving me up to Amundsen. I'd known it was going to happen. After it had happened, I would not have wanted it any other way.

A sex slave to two successive big-cocked masters for the entire time I was assigned to Bangkok.