Remote Control Love Slave
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REMOTE CONTROL SLAVE (PART 8) free porn video
Remote Control Slave
Part 8
I was trembling! I fell to my knees and looked at the floor of my living room, afraid to look up at the figure that had appeared on my computer screen.
Piss-Master and Cock-Master were watching my display of, of….of fear? Was that what I felt and exhibited? I had been so preoccupied with serving the two new Masters that I had not given much thought to the man who started it all. Now they had hooked up a camera to the Internet and once he positioned himself in front of the camera on the other end, and I looked up, I would be looking at the face of my original Master in South Africa.
I must have looked even more foolish than usual…my two sub-Masters were giggling softly at my reaction. Here I was completely shaved, on my knees in my red girl’s frilly underwear with a butt plug up my ass, a dog collar around my neck, a pair of tit clams grabbing my tits, kneeling before an electronic icon, sweating and shaking in my own living room!
As I looked at the floor, I remembered fanaticizing about what Master looked like. I had never asked him, of course, even though he had seen ample photos of me…naturally, I had a mental picture. Knowing he is a Doctor, that picture usually included a white coat, sometimes a short beard…he was about 40 years old, masculine but in a refined way…
“SLUT!”
i involuntarily jerked my head upward, stopping the upward sweep just in time.
“Yes, Master,” I replied meekly.
“Keep those eyes down, but crawl forward toward the computer screen.”
I crawled on my knees until I was just a few feet from the desk.
“Do you think you deserve to look at me, shithead?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good answer, but you want to look, don’t you boy?”
“Yes, Sir,” I admitted.
“Then stay on your knees, place your hands behind your head, face away from the computer and I want to see some serious oral servicing of your two sub-Masters…get moving cocksucker!
Piss-Master came to me first, unzipping as he crossed the room, pulling his hardening tool out and stuffing it in my mouth without a seconds delay. The way I was facing, Master could watch from the computer and Cock-Master from the couch. As usual, there was more cock on Piss-Master than I could comfortably accommodate, and I immediately went into a deep-throat routine…allowing the head and first inch of him to go into my throat. I gagged a bit, breathing through my nose, as he used his hips to make tiny little thrusts in and out, fucking my inner mouth.
I worked to maintain my balance, keeping my hands on my head as ordered. I was dribbling pre-cum on the floor in front of me. As I sucked away, he grabbed the chain on my tit clamps and tugged away in time to his cock thrusts. I was in heaven and just knew UI was about to explode and drown everyone in the room in cum!
When he came, it was in four massive jets of cum shooting down my throat. I swear I could feel them hit the back of me, like a black of rubber bullets. He pulled out, slapped my face with his drenched cock and returned to the couch, falling onto it in exhaustion. He thought he was tired! I could barely stay on my knees.
Cock-Master came up to me next, but instead of inserting his cock in my waiting mouth, he pushed me back so I lay face up on the floor, the back of my head pointing toward the computer monitor. He quickly pulled off his cargo shorts and jock strap and sat on my face.
“Get that tongue working, shit-face!”
I didn’t need any encouragement. Rimming for me is the ultimate humiliation, and yet, knowing how good it feels, maybe the ultimate sexual pleasure a slave can give his Master. I dove in, licking and probing, using my tongue as a mini-cock to make him feel good.
Cock- Master’s moaning encouraged me even more…I was pleasuring my Master. What more could a slave want? I swirled and probed and licked like mad, and when I felt the balls striking by chin start to tighten, he suddenly got up, turned around, and rammed his cock into my mouth. His orgasm came immediately, blasting against the back of my throat, coating my mouth with another load of jism.
“Very good sub master!” boomed the voice from the computer speakers, “very good indeed! But little bitch boy looks thirsty, why don’t you both give him something to drink.
They did, in quick succession, their golden piss washing any remnants of their cum into my stomach. I was filled with their fluids, but still very horny. I still had not cum, and my penis showed the strain…red and angry looking, slick from pre-cum.
“Back up on your feet, shithead,” came the order form thousands of miles away. Maybe I was about to finally see my original Master!
I stood up and placed my hands at the back of my head, exposing all of my shaved body, and lifted my head up toward the computer screen. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Piss-Master and Cock-Master watching intently.
Master’s head and shoulders moved in front of the camera and filled the new 40” HD digital screen the masters had bought with my credit card…His head was shaved, but He wore a close cropped beard and mustache. Although I could only see the top of His arms, they were those of a powerful, muscular Master. Leather and brass bands circled both arms just above and below his massive biceps. The eyes staring at me were a deep brown…and his skin was mahogany colored.
Like most whites, I had presumed the other person I was communicating with in South Africa was white. He was a doctor, after all…and I suppose my prejudice made that into a white figure, knowing that country’s history. His speech had that British accent to it. I had never had any kind of “Mandingo” type of “black commands white” stereotype fantasy, but now the domination I was seeking reached a new height…not because of any prejudice on my part, but because of the way anyone else would look at us if we were next to one another. They would see a white man kneeling, humiliated, and submissive to a massive muscular powerful black man.
I heard a gasp from the couch, and looked over before I could catch myself. Piss-Master’s tongue was hanging from his open mouth and he was jerking on his cock, clearly turned on. But Cock-Master’s was looking away, seemingly in shock.
“Who told you to look away shithead?” Master screamed at me.
I didn’t answer, but quickly looked back into those eyes that seemed to look into my soul.
“That’s better. Remember who you main Master is! Those two boys are MY slaves…but I give them dominion over you because you aren’t worth one of their turds! Here’s what’s going to happen, shit-face. The boys have rigged up your little remote control harness to a cock sheath, so in addition to having control over your baby balls and your little girl titties, I will also control your little penis. And they also attached a little pin device to pierce a bag of your own worthless piss when I command it. We’re going to take a trip to the Mall where you met your Cock Master, and I’m going to be watching you the whole time through the security cameras in the mall, which Cock-Master’s friend was kind enough to rig up for me. Along the way, the video cameras in their cell phones will help me monitor what’s happening. And once you get to the mall, slut, I’m going to send you walking around the place…if your right tit is squeezed, you move in that direction…the left tit you go left. If I squeeze your penis, you go forward…and if I squeeze it twice, you sit. If anybody talks to you, you treat him or her immediately as a Master. OK boys, hook him up and let‘s go shopping!”
The Piss and Cock Master connected the electronic harness and beeper set-up to my body, using duct-tape to keep it in place. On top I wore a bright pink sweatshirt that covered the wires and the beeper strapped to my chest. Below they selected a pair of pink, almost see-through nylon running shorts. I became hard immediately as Piss-Master fastened the tight rubber sheath to my penis, pulling on it intentionally, squeezing the head and pushing his finger into the slit, spreading my now copious pre-cum around.
He used a strip of duct tape to strap it to my thigh, painfully forcing my erection into that unnatural downward pointing position.
Meanwhile, Cock Master kept fiddling with the tit-clamps, jerking on them to make sure they would not slip off, calling the beeper-control number to test out the system. Every now and then he would slip a finger into my ass, next to the plug, and then hold it to my mouth for cleaning. I sucked the finger like an ice-crème cone. I wondered silently if there was any way I could abort the journey. If I had been dressed oddly in my trips to the huge mall before, now I would stand out like a whore in the choir, a sex-freak on parade for anyone who cared to look.
I was headed out in public, a robotic sex marionette ready to do my Masters’ bidding.
To be continued
Part 8
I was trembling! I fell to my knees and looked at the floor of my living room, afraid to look up at the figure that had appeared on my computer screen.
Piss-Master and Cock-Master were watching my display of, of….of fear? Was that what I felt and exhibited? I had been so preoccupied with serving the two new Masters that I had not given much thought to the man who started it all. Now they had hooked up a camera to the Internet and once he positioned himself in front of the camera on the other end, and I looked up, I would be looking at the face of my original Master in South Africa.
I must have looked even more foolish than usual…my two sub-Masters were giggling softly at my reaction. Here I was completely shaved, on my knees in my red girl’s frilly underwear with a butt plug up my ass, a dog collar around my neck, a pair of tit clams grabbing my tits, kneeling before an electronic icon, sweating and shaking in my own living room!
As I looked at the floor, I remembered fanaticizing about what Master looked like. I had never asked him, of course, even though he had seen ample photos of me…naturally, I had a mental picture. Knowing he is a Doctor, that picture usually included a white coat, sometimes a short beard…he was about 40 years old, masculine but in a refined way…
“SLUT!”
i involuntarily jerked my head upward, stopping the upward sweep just in time.
“Yes, Master,” I replied meekly.
“Keep those eyes down, but crawl forward toward the computer screen.”
I crawled on my knees until I was just a few feet from the desk.
“Do you think you deserve to look at me, shithead?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good answer, but you want to look, don’t you boy?”
“Yes, Sir,” I admitted.
“Then stay on your knees, place your hands behind your head, face away from the computer and I want to see some serious oral servicing of your two sub-Masters…get moving cocksucker!
Piss-Master came to me first, unzipping as he crossed the room, pulling his hardening tool out and stuffing it in my mouth without a seconds delay. The way I was facing, Master could watch from the computer and Cock-Master from the couch. As usual, there was more cock on Piss-Master than I could comfortably accommodate, and I immediately went into a deep-throat routine…allowing the head and first inch of him to go into my throat. I gagged a bit, breathing through my nose, as he used his hips to make tiny little thrusts in and out, fucking my inner mouth.
I worked to maintain my balance, keeping my hands on my head as ordered. I was dribbling pre-cum on the floor in front of me. As I sucked away, he grabbed the chain on my tit clamps and tugged away in time to his cock thrusts. I was in heaven and just knew UI was about to explode and drown everyone in the room in cum!
When he came, it was in four massive jets of cum shooting down my throat. I swear I could feel them hit the back of me, like a black of rubber bullets. He pulled out, slapped my face with his drenched cock and returned to the couch, falling onto it in exhaustion. He thought he was tired! I could barely stay on my knees.
Cock-Master came up to me next, but instead of inserting his cock in my waiting mouth, he pushed me back so I lay face up on the floor, the back of my head pointing toward the computer monitor. He quickly pulled off his cargo shorts and jock strap and sat on my face.
“Get that tongue working, shit-face!”
I didn’t need any encouragement. Rimming for me is the ultimate humiliation, and yet, knowing how good it feels, maybe the ultimate sexual pleasure a slave can give his Master. I dove in, licking and probing, using my tongue as a mini-cock to make him feel good.
Cock- Master’s moaning encouraged me even more…I was pleasuring my Master. What more could a slave want? I swirled and probed and licked like mad, and when I felt the balls striking by chin start to tighten, he suddenly got up, turned around, and rammed his cock into my mouth. His orgasm came immediately, blasting against the back of my throat, coating my mouth with another load of jism.
“Very good sub master!” boomed the voice from the computer speakers, “very good indeed! But little bitch boy looks thirsty, why don’t you both give him something to drink.
They did, in quick succession, their golden piss washing any remnants of their cum into my stomach. I was filled with their fluids, but still very horny. I still had not cum, and my penis showed the strain…red and angry looking, slick from pre-cum.
“Back up on your feet, shithead,” came the order form thousands of miles away. Maybe I was about to finally see my original Master!
I stood up and placed my hands at the back of my head, exposing all of my shaved body, and lifted my head up toward the computer screen. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Piss-Master and Cock-Master watching intently.
Master’s head and shoulders moved in front of the camera and filled the new 40” HD digital screen the masters had bought with my credit card…His head was shaved, but He wore a close cropped beard and mustache. Although I could only see the top of His arms, they were those of a powerful, muscular Master. Leather and brass bands circled both arms just above and below his massive biceps. The eyes staring at me were a deep brown…and his skin was mahogany colored.
Like most whites, I had presumed the other person I was communicating with in South Africa was white. He was a doctor, after all…and I suppose my prejudice made that into a white figure, knowing that country’s history. His speech had that British accent to it. I had never had any kind of “Mandingo” type of “black commands white” stereotype fantasy, but now the domination I was seeking reached a new height…not because of any prejudice on my part, but because of the way anyone else would look at us if we were next to one another. They would see a white man kneeling, humiliated, and submissive to a massive muscular powerful black man.
I heard a gasp from the couch, and looked over before I could catch myself. Piss-Master’s tongue was hanging from his open mouth and he was jerking on his cock, clearly turned on. But Cock-Master’s was looking away, seemingly in shock.
“Who told you to look away shithead?” Master screamed at me.
I didn’t answer, but quickly looked back into those eyes that seemed to look into my soul.
“That’s better. Remember who you main Master is! Those two boys are MY slaves…but I give them dominion over you because you aren’t worth one of their turds! Here’s what’s going to happen, shit-face. The boys have rigged up your little remote control harness to a cock sheath, so in addition to having control over your baby balls and your little girl titties, I will also control your little penis. And they also attached a little pin device to pierce a bag of your own worthless piss when I command it. We’re going to take a trip to the Mall where you met your Cock Master, and I’m going to be watching you the whole time through the security cameras in the mall, which Cock-Master’s friend was kind enough to rig up for me. Along the way, the video cameras in their cell phones will help me monitor what’s happening. And once you get to the mall, slut, I’m going to send you walking around the place…if your right tit is squeezed, you move in that direction…the left tit you go left. If I squeeze your penis, you go forward…and if I squeeze it twice, you sit. If anybody talks to you, you treat him or her immediately as a Master. OK boys, hook him up and let‘s go shopping!”
The Piss and Cock Master connected the electronic harness and beeper set-up to my body, using duct-tape to keep it in place. On top I wore a bright pink sweatshirt that covered the wires and the beeper strapped to my chest. Below they selected a pair of pink, almost see-through nylon running shorts. I became hard immediately as Piss-Master fastened the tight rubber sheath to my penis, pulling on it intentionally, squeezing the head and pushing his finger into the slit, spreading my now copious pre-cum around.
He used a strip of duct tape to strap it to my thigh, painfully forcing my erection into that unnatural downward pointing position.
Meanwhile, Cock Master kept fiddling with the tit-clamps, jerking on them to make sure they would not slip off, calling the beeper-control number to test out the system. Every now and then he would slip a finger into my ass, next to the plug, and then hold it to my mouth for cleaning. I sucked the finger like an ice-crème cone. I wondered silently if there was any way I could abort the journey. If I had been dressed oddly in my trips to the huge mall before, now I would stand out like a whore in the choir, a sex-freak on parade for anyone who cared to look.
I was headed out in public, a robotic sex marionette ready to do my Masters’ bidding.
To be continued
Clover
- 05.08.2022
- 29
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