Remote Control Love Slave
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REMOTE CONTROL SLAVE (PART 3) free porn video
Remote Control Slave
Part 3
“How did you find me here?” I stammered…this shouter punk boy from the mall was standing in my apartment doorway…I had given him my phone number as he demanded, but…
“So you’re stupid too, hey faggot slut? Never heard of a reverse directory online? Or do you even have a computer?”
I mumbled a yes, suddenly remembering that the door was open, I could hear neighbors in the hall, and I was standing in the doorway in the diaper and little-boy pants, as Master demands. I was holding the pacifier in my hand, violating Master’s command to keep it in my mouth, but that was necessary to speak.
Before I could reply he pushed his way in, shutting the door behind him. I think it was in time to prevent the neighbors from seeing, but perhaps not. The boy walked around my small apartment as if he owned it.
He was wearing a brown leather bomber jacket, some of the tightest, most worn jeans I think I had ever seen, and motorcycle boots. It was clear from the log-shape showing in his crotch that he was my superior, though he was years younger. He was about six foot tall, lean in build, clean-shaven, with long brown hair tumbling over his forehead and neck. I guessed him to be 18. Stereotypical as it was, he was carrying a skateboard. He had such a beautiful combination of tough and tender i couldn’t stop starring at his beautiful smooth skin…
“Hey shit-for-brains!”
I came out of my mental fog.
“Yes Sir?”
Sir? You’re calling me sir? So that’s your deal? You need someone to order you around? Are you some stupid slave boy to a real man somewhere?
“Yes, Sir,” I answered. Afraid of where the conversation was headed, but unable to find the strength to change it.
“And where is this Master of yours? Does he live here with you? Does he know you’re hanging out at the mall in diapers trying to pick up young studs like me? Hey shithead! Answer me!”
“I...er...um…he lives in another country, and i was, I was at the mall because he told me to go to the mall.”
The boy starred at me, waiting for something more..
“..uh, Sir,” I added.
“That’s better. So how does your master command you? Does he call you on the phone?”
“No, Sir, he e-mails me, Sir.”
By this time the boy had slouched onto the couch and put his feet up on my coffee table.
“E-mails you? What a cheap cocksucker of a whole slave you are! You let some guy off in cyber-land order you around? How low is that? Boy…get these boots off!”
i scrambled to my knees and started unbuckling the heavy black leather boots, trying to smell his feet without being obvious, but failing..
“I saw you sniffing, shithead…do the job right! Pull those socks off and lick those feet clean you miserable piece of shit cocksucker!”
i laid the socks at my side and started using my tongue on his long toes. i heard a clicking sound and glanced up. He had taken a photo with his camera phone, proof of me servicing his feet.
“I told my bud I was coming over here and he didn’t believe me when I told him about the mall, about your diaper and shit…now he’ll see I was telling the truth…maybe he’ll come join us so you can have more than ten toes to clean!”
As he spoke he punched the buttons on the phone, laughing as he sent a message…and the foot photo…to someone. i was getting in deeper by the minute, and mostly i worried about what Master would say.
i wasn’t sure he could see it, but i had sprung an erection from the moment i was on my knees at his feet, and the foot-washing action was only making it more obvious. i didn’t even have a real foot-fetish, but the entire scene was such a turn-on my slave cock beneath the diaper was aimed at the ceiling.
“OK slave shit get your ass over to the corner near that window, face the corner so I don’t have to look at your ugly face, and start answering some questions!”
The ugly face he referred to was wet from the lick-work of the last ten minutes, but i dared not wipe it off as i positioned myself in the corner. Instinctively, i placed my hand up behind my neck. As i stood there i realized I needed to piss…i has been drinking the piss from my baby bottle for several hours, and it was recycling time. i wasn’t sure whether to just go in the diaper, to ask permission or what…i decided to wait as long as i could.
The boy had stood up and i could hear him rummaging near my computer desk in what was supposed to be a little dining area next to the kitchen.
“What the fuck it this shit?”
i couldn’t see, facing the corner and all, but before i could ask for more information, he continued.
“This wire contraption…is this a beeper?”
“Yes, Sir, i wear it and Master calls the beeper to control my miserable body. It fits on my cock and tits, Sir”.
No reply. More sounds of things being moved around, a drawer opening. My life was quickly being revealed to this boy-master whose name i didn’t even know.
“Put these on slave!”
He had thrown a few items from the drawer at my feet, and i started picking them up. My plain brown worn dog collar, leather restraints for my arms and legs, and a leather hood with a mouth and eye openings. i had purchased all of online at Master’s command, but had not been told to use it yet, other than the collar. When i finished I stood back up in the corner, needing even more badly to piss.
While i was putting on the gear, the boy had turned on the computer and was searching through my online porn collection. It Didn’t take him long to find the file of photos i had taken on orders from Master…the very file containing the photo he had taken of me earlier in the week. They showed me in various public places in various levels of exposure and humiliation. In one, i sat on a bus-stop bench with my thumb in my mouth wearing only an obviously wet jockstrap. It had taken a $100 bribe to get a homeless man to take that shot. i figured he was less likely to go to the police.
Speaking of wet…i could wait no longer and pissed into my diaper. He must have sensed it, perhaps the smell, because he turned his head sharply and looked me over.
“Do NOT tell me you just peed in your pants,” he yelled.
“Yes Sir, i did. i’m sorry Sir.
“Get in your fucking bathroom, hurry up!”
i rushed to obey, keeping my hands up since he had not told me to take them down. In the small bathroom, he ordered into the tub, kneeling and facing way from him. He pulled the device to close the drain and i heard his zipper open, and then felt his piss on the back of my head, soaking my hair.
“Turn around! Open that mouth!” he ordered
i got a mouth full of his hot piss as soon as i obeyed, swallowing as much as i could of the strong stream he was aiming at me. It appeared i wasn’t the only one who had needed to pee. He continued for what seemed liked minutes soaking the leather hood, the arm and leg restraints, my already wet diaper and little-boy underwear and me. A lot of the liquid got under the hood, wetting my hair. What I didn’t drink ended up starting to cool in the bottom of the tub. He ordered me to lie down, face in the puddle.
“Fucking slave shit...here’s the story. Here’s what we’re going to do. My name as far as you are concerned is Cock-Master. That’s because you have such a pitiful little cock it’s not worth shit. Don’t think I didn’t notice that little bump in your diaper. You call that a hard-on? And from now on, if you ever refer to it at all, you call it your penis. You aren’t man enough for it to be called anything else. Put your hands on it right now and let me hear what it is.”
“It is my penis, cock-Master.”
“Good, but don’t forget the sir.
“It is my penis, cock master Sir.”
He sat on the toilet, casually using the cleaning brush next to it to splash piss from the tub bottom on me.
“We’re going to send an e-mail to your Overseas Master, introducing me…I’m going to report all of your misbehavior to him and offer my assistance in training you, you miserable scum shit-eating nothing. I know a lot about computers, by the way, so don’t think you can keep secrets from me. You’re going to make me a copy of your door key, and I may come by at any hour. It may be because I need your miserable mouth to piss in, or because I need a hole to fuck. This is now my place too…though you, of course, will continue to pay the bills.”
“Stand up,” he ordered suddenly, pulling me out of the tub and handing me the hair dryer. Use this to dry my piss on your skin. I want my mark to stay on you, so no towels! Call me when you’re done.”
My new Cock-Master left me alone and went to explore the rest of the apartment. When I had dried the piss on my body and the leathers, I called out to him and he ordered me into the bedroom.
He was laying on my bed, nude except for a leather jockstrap from my drawer…another Master-ordered Internet purchase I hadn’t used yet.
He spread his legs and gestured for me to climb up on the bed with him.
“Lick it, slave, lick the jock and feel the power of a real man’s cock underneath that leather…and I don’t want any part of your piss-marked miserable unworthy body touching mine except for your fucking tongue, understand?”
“Yes, Cock-Master, Sir.” I went to work on the jock, feeling him harden almost immediately. I knew he was getting off as much on my humiliation as from my licking motions.
i was hard too, although next to his huge tool, my little penis seemed even more worthless than usual. i glanced up to see him laying back with his eyes closed. He gave me little mini-commands, teaching me what he liked and disliked in what I was doing. His hands were behind his head, giving me a wonderful view of his hairy pits and solid abs, the beautiful curves of his arms. He obviously worked-out.
i hoped he would let me continue my oral servicing upward…i wanted to serve every part of the cock-master’s magnificent body. i continued licking the leather pouch watching as the head of his cock slipped out of the top. He was un-cut, and my mouth watered, wanting nothing more than to be permitted to take it into my mouth.
To be continued…
Part 3
“How did you find me here?” I stammered…this shouter punk boy from the mall was standing in my apartment doorway…I had given him my phone number as he demanded, but…
“So you’re stupid too, hey faggot slut? Never heard of a reverse directory online? Or do you even have a computer?”
I mumbled a yes, suddenly remembering that the door was open, I could hear neighbors in the hall, and I was standing in the doorway in the diaper and little-boy pants, as Master demands. I was holding the pacifier in my hand, violating Master’s command to keep it in my mouth, but that was necessary to speak.
Before I could reply he pushed his way in, shutting the door behind him. I think it was in time to prevent the neighbors from seeing, but perhaps not. The boy walked around my small apartment as if he owned it.
He was wearing a brown leather bomber jacket, some of the tightest, most worn jeans I think I had ever seen, and motorcycle boots. It was clear from the log-shape showing in his crotch that he was my superior, though he was years younger. He was about six foot tall, lean in build, clean-shaven, with long brown hair tumbling over his forehead and neck. I guessed him to be 18. Stereotypical as it was, he was carrying a skateboard. He had such a beautiful combination of tough and tender i couldn’t stop starring at his beautiful smooth skin…
“Hey shit-for-brains!”
I came out of my mental fog.
“Yes Sir?”
Sir? You’re calling me sir? So that’s your deal? You need someone to order you around? Are you some stupid slave boy to a real man somewhere?
“Yes, Sir,” I answered. Afraid of where the conversation was headed, but unable to find the strength to change it.
“And where is this Master of yours? Does he live here with you? Does he know you’re hanging out at the mall in diapers trying to pick up young studs like me? Hey shithead! Answer me!”
“I...er...um…he lives in another country, and i was, I was at the mall because he told me to go to the mall.”
The boy starred at me, waiting for something more..
“..uh, Sir,” I added.
“That’s better. So how does your master command you? Does he call you on the phone?”
“No, Sir, he e-mails me, Sir.”
By this time the boy had slouched onto the couch and put his feet up on my coffee table.
“E-mails you? What a cheap cocksucker of a whole slave you are! You let some guy off in cyber-land order you around? How low is that? Boy…get these boots off!”
i scrambled to my knees and started unbuckling the heavy black leather boots, trying to smell his feet without being obvious, but failing..
“I saw you sniffing, shithead…do the job right! Pull those socks off and lick those feet clean you miserable piece of shit cocksucker!”
i laid the socks at my side and started using my tongue on his long toes. i heard a clicking sound and glanced up. He had taken a photo with his camera phone, proof of me servicing his feet.
“I told my bud I was coming over here and he didn’t believe me when I told him about the mall, about your diaper and shit…now he’ll see I was telling the truth…maybe he’ll come join us so you can have more than ten toes to clean!”
As he spoke he punched the buttons on the phone, laughing as he sent a message…and the foot photo…to someone. i was getting in deeper by the minute, and mostly i worried about what Master would say.
i wasn’t sure he could see it, but i had sprung an erection from the moment i was on my knees at his feet, and the foot-washing action was only making it more obvious. i didn’t even have a real foot-fetish, but the entire scene was such a turn-on my slave cock beneath the diaper was aimed at the ceiling.
“OK slave shit get your ass over to the corner near that window, face the corner so I don’t have to look at your ugly face, and start answering some questions!”
The ugly face he referred to was wet from the lick-work of the last ten minutes, but i dared not wipe it off as i positioned myself in the corner. Instinctively, i placed my hand up behind my neck. As i stood there i realized I needed to piss…i has been drinking the piss from my baby bottle for several hours, and it was recycling time. i wasn’t sure whether to just go in the diaper, to ask permission or what…i decided to wait as long as i could.
The boy had stood up and i could hear him rummaging near my computer desk in what was supposed to be a little dining area next to the kitchen.
“What the fuck it this shit?”
i couldn’t see, facing the corner and all, but before i could ask for more information, he continued.
“This wire contraption…is this a beeper?”
“Yes, Sir, i wear it and Master calls the beeper to control my miserable body. It fits on my cock and tits, Sir”.
No reply. More sounds of things being moved around, a drawer opening. My life was quickly being revealed to this boy-master whose name i didn’t even know.
“Put these on slave!”
He had thrown a few items from the drawer at my feet, and i started picking them up. My plain brown worn dog collar, leather restraints for my arms and legs, and a leather hood with a mouth and eye openings. i had purchased all of online at Master’s command, but had not been told to use it yet, other than the collar. When i finished I stood back up in the corner, needing even more badly to piss.
While i was putting on the gear, the boy had turned on the computer and was searching through my online porn collection. It Didn’t take him long to find the file of photos i had taken on orders from Master…the very file containing the photo he had taken of me earlier in the week. They showed me in various public places in various levels of exposure and humiliation. In one, i sat on a bus-stop bench with my thumb in my mouth wearing only an obviously wet jockstrap. It had taken a $100 bribe to get a homeless man to take that shot. i figured he was less likely to go to the police.
Speaking of wet…i could wait no longer and pissed into my diaper. He must have sensed it, perhaps the smell, because he turned his head sharply and looked me over.
“Do NOT tell me you just peed in your pants,” he yelled.
“Yes Sir, i did. i’m sorry Sir.
“Get in your fucking bathroom, hurry up!”
i rushed to obey, keeping my hands up since he had not told me to take them down. In the small bathroom, he ordered into the tub, kneeling and facing way from him. He pulled the device to close the drain and i heard his zipper open, and then felt his piss on the back of my head, soaking my hair.
“Turn around! Open that mouth!” he ordered
i got a mouth full of his hot piss as soon as i obeyed, swallowing as much as i could of the strong stream he was aiming at me. It appeared i wasn’t the only one who had needed to pee. He continued for what seemed liked minutes soaking the leather hood, the arm and leg restraints, my already wet diaper and little-boy underwear and me. A lot of the liquid got under the hood, wetting my hair. What I didn’t drink ended up starting to cool in the bottom of the tub. He ordered me to lie down, face in the puddle.
“Fucking slave shit...here’s the story. Here’s what we’re going to do. My name as far as you are concerned is Cock-Master. That’s because you have such a pitiful little cock it’s not worth shit. Don’t think I didn’t notice that little bump in your diaper. You call that a hard-on? And from now on, if you ever refer to it at all, you call it your penis. You aren’t man enough for it to be called anything else. Put your hands on it right now and let me hear what it is.”
“It is my penis, cock-Master.”
“Good, but don’t forget the sir.
“It is my penis, cock master Sir.”
He sat on the toilet, casually using the cleaning brush next to it to splash piss from the tub bottom on me.
“We’re going to send an e-mail to your Overseas Master, introducing me…I’m going to report all of your misbehavior to him and offer my assistance in training you, you miserable scum shit-eating nothing. I know a lot about computers, by the way, so don’t think you can keep secrets from me. You’re going to make me a copy of your door key, and I may come by at any hour. It may be because I need your miserable mouth to piss in, or because I need a hole to fuck. This is now my place too…though you, of course, will continue to pay the bills.”
“Stand up,” he ordered suddenly, pulling me out of the tub and handing me the hair dryer. Use this to dry my piss on your skin. I want my mark to stay on you, so no towels! Call me when you’re done.”
My new Cock-Master left me alone and went to explore the rest of the apartment. When I had dried the piss on my body and the leathers, I called out to him and he ordered me into the bedroom.
He was laying on my bed, nude except for a leather jockstrap from my drawer…another Master-ordered Internet purchase I hadn’t used yet.
He spread his legs and gestured for me to climb up on the bed with him.
“Lick it, slave, lick the jock and feel the power of a real man’s cock underneath that leather…and I don’t want any part of your piss-marked miserable unworthy body touching mine except for your fucking tongue, understand?”
“Yes, Cock-Master, Sir.” I went to work on the jock, feeling him harden almost immediately. I knew he was getting off as much on my humiliation as from my licking motions.
i was hard too, although next to his huge tool, my little penis seemed even more worthless than usual. i glanced up to see him laying back with his eyes closed. He gave me little mini-commands, teaching me what he liked and disliked in what I was doing. His hands were behind his head, giving me a wonderful view of his hairy pits and solid abs, the beautiful curves of his arms. He obviously worked-out.
i hoped he would let me continue my oral servicing upward…i wanted to serve every part of the cock-master’s magnificent body. i continued licking the leather pouch watching as the head of his cock slipped out of the top. He was un-cut, and my mouth watered, wanting nothing more than to be permitted to take it into my mouth.
To be continued…
Lynne
- 14.05.2022
- 6
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