Married Man Becomes A Pig Pt 2

I followed him down a black painted and dimly lit hallway which lead to one large steel door that seemed rather imposing. A nameplate on the door read, ‘Master S.’

Part 1

I gulped standing there. Maybe saying yes was not the best of ideas. Though I was having second thoughts they evaporated quickly. Who was I trying to kid? This was so much better than any fantasy, after all it was truly happening. I had read so many Udatz stories about incredibly wild things and often imagined myself there in the place of the submissive one in the story. My favorite categories: gay male, transsexual, cross-dressing, BDSM, and anal – but here I was starring in my own tale, this was no time to back out.

“Now slut, this is the point of no return,” Steve stated bluntly as he looked directly into my eyes, “If you knock on this door, you’ll have one wild ride of a weekend. More fun and nastiness than you can imagine. Not to mention an extra $500 to spend in the store. Even if you choose not to knock you still can keep the items you’ve chosen so far for free and you can leave right now.”

Which will it be slut? Dirty or Vanilla? Mild or Wild? You can head to that bar you thought of earlier and keep wondering what could have been.”

“Dirty, please Sir,” I whispered, my voice small but full of wanton desire to my own ears.

“Speak up slut, I couldn’t hear that,” Steve taunted me with a lurid smile, “and I bet Master S couldn’t hear it either.”

His eyes glanced upward and I followed them to a camera which stared back at us. I had not noticed it until now – it was on – the red light blinked every second. Now looking at the camera, presuming Master S was watching I did my best to convey my absolute conviction.

“I want to be dirty Sir, really dirty!”

“Your wish is our command slut, now knock,” came the gruff order. I rapped on the steel door loudly hurting my knuckles.

“Enter!” The singular order came from a booming voice beyond the door. The door clicked once and opened with the sound of slight squealing metal upon metal.

“Go on in slut,” Steve urged.

“Aren’t you coming, Sir?” I questioned hesitantly.

“I’ll be bringing in your purchases and stay to receive the Master’s orders to prepare you,” Steve explained.

Though my mind was still in a haze, I understood his words and pushed onward into the room. I entered a clinical looking office and lounging in its center was a stunning specimen of a man. He must have stood about 6’4″ and weighed just over 200 lbs of pure muscle. To me he looked like a god and would have been the kind of guy where if I had seen him at a bathhouse or bar, I would have thought was completely out of my league. My mouth merely hung open.

“Come forward and kneel sub,” was his first order. I obediently strode forward, dropping to my knees before him, my eyes cast downward staying trained on his feet.

“Steve,” the strong handsome man continued to speak, “show me the code he solved, how perfect was his answer?”

“It’s all there Master,” Steve replied coming forward with whatever he had for the Master, “I wasn’t certain he was going to be a suitable candidate with the first few he choose, but bless his soul – he choose the black with white stripes, yellow, and cream almost stopping before he committed completely with the black velvet which rounded off the perfect set.”

“Excellent,” the Master praised me

“Then it is time we explained the rules for the winners…don’t you think?” I could hear the sly smile in his words though I kept my eyes at his feet.

“Yes Master, we should,” Steve was clearly submissive to Master S, but played an important role in the scheme of things. Though I could not see, the Master looked down at me and lifted my chin upwards with his fingers so that I met his deep hazel eyes. I stared longingly into them as he continued to steadily gaze down to me.

“Steve tells me that you’re here in San Francisco on business for the weekend,” the Master told me as he cupped my face, “you have no commitments at all this weekend, except for some sightseeing, is that correct slut? If it is, let’s get one thing quite clear, there will be no one trying to contact anyone outside this room until you contact your family on Sunday, am I understood?”

I had to wonder when Steve told him this. The telephone conversation sprang to mind suddenly. I remembered the details I had given, indeed I had spilled numerous things about myself and my plans. Finally I answered the Master.

“Yes Sir, that is correct and I understand your terms.”

“Master is how you shall respond to me you faggot,” he boomed suddenly, “Master! Have you got that into that pretty little stupid head?”

“Yes Master,” I stammered out my apology anxiously, “Sorry Master.”

Looking down at me, the smallest of smiles flickered across his face. He could see I was quite mentally subjugated and perhaps he even realized that I would be an easy target for him. I stared back into those eyes and was not truly conscious of what could happen.

All I knew as I knelt there was that my erection had shrunk to nothing with the excessive poppers and now all my feelings were focused on my asshole and the fact that I wanted to have it completely and utterly filled as soon as possible.

The room was warm. I could feel my body and face heat up, the poppers effects abated somewhat and allowed me to think a touch more clearly. As though reading my mind, Steve bent over to my side and prised the bottle of poppers out of my tightly closed hand and opened it. This entire time I was looking transfixed into Master S’s eyes. Steve then reached around my head with his left hand closing over my left nostril and he held the bottle against my right nostril.

“Take the longest breath that you can slut, and you hold it until the Master allows you to release that breath,” Steve commanded calmly, “We need to feed you more of your slut juice to get your head in the right place for your Master.”

Exhaling through my mouth to empty my lungs, I obediently breathed in hard and made sure to breathe as deeply and long as I could as well. I was taking my biggest hit of the poppers yet.

Master reached down to pinch my nipples applying a great amount of pressure through the shirt I wore. I moaned as Steve held the poppers and waited until the Master whispered the word, ‘release.’ The hit of poppers was incredibly intense and while twisting my nipples the Master lifted me higher off my knees.

Steve swapped the poppers from one hand to the next and closed my opposite nostril as he placed the poppers under the other nose. He commanded that I inhale again and I automatically began to do so even as my head start to swim.

“Ok slut, now for the rules,” the Master began, “You have won the things on the table over there. You have also won $500 to spend in the shop once I’ve had my way with you. To get that I need you from this moment on until late Sunday afternoon. Once you’ve committed to this there is no backing out.”

“You’ve already chosen your lack of limits via the hankies you’ve chosen. I want you to explain what each means to me so that we may agree on what you have no choice over whilst you remain in my care. Nod that you understand if you do.”

I nodded like a dumb slut. Shit, a full weekend! That was beyond even my wildest dreams. I was happy to suck one cock and then get off myself or be fucked by Master, but all weekend? I was agreeing to something way more intense than I had ever experienced, but how could I say no. This was every amazing fantasy I had ever thought of for a forty-eight hour period. I had not considered how many of the forty-eight hours I would be in actual use for though.

“Explain your understanding of the hankies one by one and your relative experience with each type of fetish,” the Master instructed in a leisurely tone,” I will ask you questions in order to push and test your limits.”

I looked at the stack of hankies on the desk which Steve had spread out when we initially came in the room.

Then looking back up into his eyes I started with the color I recalled most easily, “Light-blue means that I’m a cocksucker Master.”

“Not just any cock sucker,” he corrected me, “It should mean you’re an expert cocksucker, but if you are not… I ensure you by the end of the weekend you will be. Understand slut? Now on to the next.” I nodded my assent again.

Each and every second of this interaction was being recorded by the ever watchful eye of a surveillance camera. It was not just outside the room in the hall but also inside as well I noticed.

Now my cock was hardening again with this talk, I knew that my gag reflex wasn’t brilliant but hoped I could please him, otherwise I thought I may be in trouble or in for some serious training at the very least.

“Charcoal is to show that I have a latex fetish, and I love to be in latex and when doing bondage so I chose the light grey as well, Sir.”

Master nodded and smile, “They do go quite well together in fact. I am certain in the next couple of days you’ll see just how well they go together.” His words reminded me of the limited timeframe in which to explore the range of sexuality I had handpicked.

Things would have to progress quickly. The reality of my situation was seeping into my brain despite the haziness from the poppers.

“Navy blue for anal and pink for a dildo,” I continued my descriptions dutifully but then thoughtfully added, “I do so love anal most of all Master.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” Master complimented me pleasantly. “Your ass pussy will be used a lot and stretched beyond anything that has come before. I noticed you didn’t get a red hanky. That’s a real shame.”

“I think you’d make a good fisting slut for me to train and enjoy. As a matter of fact, I’d love to be your puppet Master – elbow deep in your ass pussy as you scream for mercy.”

It was at this point I should have said nothing and moved straight onto the description of the black and white hanky, but I couldn’t stop myself. So keen to please and submit in the nastiest ways possible my horny impulses got the better of me.

I told Master that I had been fisted on three different occasions though each time only after a long session of electric butt plugs fucking my ass. Most importantly it was one very petite Mistress with small hands who did the fisting. I shouldn’t have shared this information at all, realizing this all too late.

“Steve,” came the Master’s order decisively, “Go and get a red hanky for slut here. We wouldn’t want him to miss out on any fun.” Steve left to get the handkerchief.

“Master,” I timidly begged, “Please I couldn’t take your hands, they’re too large. I was just trying to show I had some experience of fisting.”

“The decision is made slut,” Master yawned while dismissively waving a hand as if to dispel my objection from the air. “You’ve been fisted before – so you can be again. Now, move onto the next hanky slut.”

My true folly was laid bare to me then, I had naively thought it was saying too much that was my error but no; it was thinking I had any choice in what took place here and now that I had submitted myself to the Master’s will for the next 48 hours.

“Black with white stripes means I like black tops, Master”

In truth, up to now I had only been with a few white guys in saunas and visited three different gay Masters. The vast majority of my sexual experiences had been with Mistresses. My choice in handkerchiefs most likely conveyed a deeper level of desire and fantasy rather than actual experiences that I could claim.

I may have had some experiences of all the fetishes I chose, but never with a black Master in particular. At the risk of saying too much again, I kept the superfluous details to myself.

“That’s good slut. Some of my clients have a particular love for interracial sex, especially when the one being used and abused is a white faggot.”

Maybe the words he used should have shocked me, but I merely nodded my acquiescence to him and the mention of clients.

“Yellow means I like piss and cream means I like,” I paused at the word momentarily thinking better of just saying cream. “I mean cum, Sir.”

“You’d better not just like it,” the Master growled in his gruff and husky voice. “You’d better love it slut. Your protein for the next two days will come mostly from cum and you won’t be left thirsty with the amount of piss you’ll be forced to drink.” I shivered involuntarily, my hole clenching for a moment in anticipation as he went on.

“When I’ve broken you completely I’ll have you begging to be fed more cum and wanting to swallow every drop of piss you can get in your slutty little pig mouth.” His language, just like Steve’s, was getting ever more depraved preparing me for the eventuality of accepting all that was to come.

Ironically, I was the only who had no idea of just how much was to come.

“Now, my faggot slut – what’s the last and most important handkerchief to describe for me on this lovely Friday afternoon?” As he finished the question the Master gazed expectantly at me.

My thoughts went back to the moment Steve told me I was committing fully by choosing the black velvet handkerchief. Involuntarily I glanced sideways at the still blinking red light just beneath the camera lens that was trained fixed upon me. The look brought a torrential flood of anxiety and thoughts of uncertain dreaded scenarios if this were to end up on the net.

“Master please, I will go on cam for you, but I beg you – say it won’t go on the net for everyone to see Master! Please!”

I looked up pleadingly towards this powerful man knowing I must look so pathetic groveling before him, and getting the feeling that is just the kind of thing he would be so turned on to see. Master tutted softly shaking his head with this deliciously mischievous grin across his face.

“Tsk. Tsk. Begging so soon slut?” He leaned forward ever so slightly leering down at me,” I haven’t even begun to punish you. Stretch you. Wreck you. No boy, you had best save your begging for later.” I felt cold at the thoughts of what I’d really agreed to.

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