A Piercing Aquaintance

Paul felt Master Charles’s load shoot up his ass. Paul tightened his anus around his new Master's dick, and backed his butt in a lustful attempt to get ‘every last drop’ — he recalled being told to do that, but he wanted to anyway, instinctively.

He thought that being a slave might actually be his thing. 

Charles gave Paul’s white nice rounded fanny a good slap, and scribbled something upon it ( slave ID code) with a sharpie, withdrew his cock, inserted a butt plug, and, headed up stairs. 

“Hey, aren’t you going to untie me? …. Master?”

Paul heard the door shut, boots clomp across the room above, where he heard what sounded like the boots being tossed, and a body crashing upon a springy couch.

Bound, spread eagle, face down, naked, Paul squeezed his ass cheeks in some satisfaction, as the plug continued to tickle his already jazzed prostate; and he humped the smooth powdered formica surface with his now hard dick, hoping to ejaculate. 

As he hunched he looked to his side upon the glistening Harley — it was a nice immaculate machine he had to admit. He then looked at his wrist bonds and frantically pulled upon his leather wrist restraints. He saw that the cuffs were hooked to twist screws with eyelets, planted halfway in 2x4 wood, which surrounded the table. 

He twirled the screw around and around, feeling it loosen, and using all his might, with a swift jerk it popped loose. 

Quickly he undid his other bonds, jumped from the table, and ran to the garage door. It was pad locked. He saw that the door was built with vertical, 1 by 12” planks. He knew noise would bring Master Charles attention, so he looked about for something that might pry the wood apart, so he might escape. Nothing.

He then looked again upon the Harley bike. The key was in it! 

Paul had never driven a bike so big, but he had used trail bikes; so, he guessed he could do the clutch and gears. It was cold outside and he was naked; so, he looked around for anything to wear. Nothing.

He hopped upon the bike. It cranked with the first twist, and looking desperately with his bare foot, Paul pressed with his skinny toes the bike’s shifter bar into what he prayed was first gear, and held the clutch. He then heard the upstairs door open and heavy footfalls. 

Panicking he twisted the gas handle and let loose the clutch.  The bike burned rubber, lurched up almost throwing Paul off, then went forward toward door; and the heavy steel machine came down upon it, splintering  the barrier easily. 

Paul was breathless as he felt the cold air, and freedom!  The bike fishtailed along the gravel driveway and out to the road. His cum wet, naked ass, slipped back and forth on the Harley’s leather seat. Paul was exhilarated with a sense of victory! 

Paul shot his cum then, as he powered the bike to full throttle, hunching upon it, feeling his entire body flying down the highway with the bike’s throaty roar.

Intuitively he found the freeway, recalling  the turns, but he stopped at the on ramp to check out the saddle bags for anything to get warm. 

He found a vest, chaps, gloves and leather billed hat, which he put on. He rubbed his numb thighs and arms, and donned the leather, happy to have anything.  He scooped the cum from the tank and wiped it across his tits, and licked his palm, as he looked with excitement upon the massive busy roadway. 

He considered alerting the police that he’d been kid-napped at the next gas center, but recalled from his experience earlier that they couldn’t be trusted, at least here; so, he decided to simply go till he ran out of gas. 

As dawn broke, Paul noticed other drivers and passengers ogling him, or ridiculing, honking, and waving, as they passed. He did look sexy.   

He was cold, tired, and ached though; particularly painful were his exposed pierced dick,  plugged anus, and abused tits. He had to stop and at least warm up or he figured he could suffer hypothermia.  He saw what appeared to be an abandoned single story motel, and pulled off at the exit to check it out, and rest — sleep.

As he rounded out of the interstate exit onto the parallel access road he passed a small stop and go gas market. He could see an obviously Muslim garbed attendant, leering back at him from  the pump, from, interrupted by his obviously over exposed appearance, talking with a tall black guy with a huge dog, pushing a grocery cart. 

Paul slowed for a second to stop and ask for help, but thought better of it, and he continued to the vacant motel another quarter mile down the road. 

It indeed was vacant, and an ugly orange, dilapidated building, with old mattresses stacked up, sitting out by the rusty, flaking, bent over sign, that read House of Tang. 

It was surrounded by woods; so, Paul felt he might have some privacy, and an opportunity to sleep; to then be better able to assess what he could do about his predicament . 

He scouted a few rooms that were vacant without doors, smashed windows; and, entirely other wise empty, excepting garbage, detritus scattered — and a mound of garments in one, in the middle of the floor. 

He quickly checked out the clothes only to find a few torn panty hose, old dried  blood covered towel and acrylic white blanket, and similarly stained skirt. 

Paul was cold and beyond worry of hygiene. He removed  the chaps and pulled the dusty panty hose up to his frozen haunches while his cock dangled out a large hole at the crotch. He wrapped the blanket embedded with leaves and acorns, stuck all in it from a mouse nest, and wrapped it about his shoulders. He then selected a mattress from the pile out side and dragged it back to the room. He fell upon the stained, damp, box spring, surface. Thankful for all, and he slept.

Paul awoke wiping what felt like slime on his face; and was startled when he opened his eyes  to see a huge black dog drooling over him. He saw a big black man also leering at him, tall from behind, scratching his chin. That black guy he’d seen earlier at the stop and go. 

“I’m Lee; who is you?” He pushed his shopping cart over by  the bike.

“I’m sorry, is this your place, Sir? Lee?”

I keeps an eye on it for the Hameed family. They is g’wanna fix it up.

He stood above looking right between Paul’s opened thighs as the large hole in the panty hole revealed Paul’s butt plug. 

“You be one weird looking sight, boy”. Yo parents know wherein you are? How old is you?” 

He said he was eighteen.

The dog stepped between his legs and licked Paul’s face, and then nuzzled his obviously hairless, torn panty hosed crotch. 

“Dat be Kang.” 

Paul offered the dog the back-side of his thin wrist to smell. He wondered that people still had such absurd accents in the country, even if this was the South.

“ I was kid-napped! and my clothes and money were stolen,” explained Paul. 

“You gots a nice ride de’er,” 

Paul had parked the Harley inside the doorless room; and, Paul thought better of explaining the stolen Harley.

‘Why you waring girl’s panty stockings; an, is dat a butt plug in yor’n ass?”

Paul had forgotten about it. He said the kidnapper had put it in. Oblivious of Lee's incredulous stare Paul pulled upon the plug; legs still spread right in front of the stranger; and, he let out a cry of pain as he tugged at it. The neck of the plug had become dried. That, with it’s size, made the plug seem impossible to extract. 

“I kin hep you with dat iffin you wants.”  said Lee, figuring he was dealing  with a retarded faggot.

The discomfort had become overwhelming, so Paul asked how.

“ I kin git it out without it hurt’un too much, I think wit some lube I gots. Get up on yer knees en pull those panties down. What’s this number on your fanny?”

Paul had no clue about any number, but Paul did so; while thinking, putting such a procedure in the hands of this homeless street person, isn’t his best idea — but, there he was, ass up.

Lee raked his bony fingers under the dog’s drooling big snout, and collected a handful of slobber. He applied it around the plug, and ‘lubed’ inside around Paul’s anus, and pulled while pushing the plug sideways. Paul yelped, but the hard cone shaped rubber plug popped out, followed by cum and shit.

“ Stay there bitch” Lee wiped Paul’s hairless ass and taint gently with the scratchy blood crusted towel. 

As he walked to the door-way to pitch the smelly rag into the parking lot, Kang returned to Paul’s butt and licked his hole till the black guy came back and ordered the dog away.  

Kang’s sizable red penis was protruding from its nasty sheath.

Lee returned and sat beside the boy while he was still ass up — and seemingly expectant of something more -- or following orders. 

Paul was actually just savoring the feel-good air breezing between his naked legs; and his crack, free of the plug, and earlier torments; still wet, having been washed by the dog’s licks … and he grew a boner, as Lee gently stroked his inner thighs, tits, and, under belly. Lee grabbed the  boy’s hard cock.  

“you shore is hard for being such a soft bitch; a pretty, bitch/white boy — or is dat gurl?” Holding up the stocking panties  with his other hand. 

Paul shivered, not from cold but desire. Though still foggy from his previous ordeal, understood he was becoming a sex object all over again, to forces perhaps stronger than himself; and, upon that instant, the dog mounted him, wrapped its scratchy muddy paws about his naked boy waist, and started humping, to find Paul’s wet pucker. Paul was shocked, as he’d expected more attention from Lee, not the dog! 

“keep yo fanny up, bitch! Mah dog needs some white pussy, faggot!”

Paul’s ass being already lubed and a bit already gaped from the plug, presented a fine hole  upon which entered Kang’s long wet knotted tool. The dog furiously humped, and even growled threateningly when Paul attempted to disengage — the beast was terrifying then, too; and Paul remained still as the dog fucked him, planting its knot inside to the hilt.

‘Dat warn’t so bad, wuz it? An bet you liked it even?”

The dog had shot its load and had dismounted only to remain coupled  to Paul’s butt. Ass to ass, as Lee continued to chat about his dog. 

Paul, actually, did like the experience; though, he examined  the scratches on his belly left behind, laying his head upon the mattress as he did so, feeling the dog’s furry butt and big balls bouncing against his own. Paul yelped like as the dog pulled the knot loose with a wet splatter.

Dog cum oozed down his thighs.

Paul pulled the panty hose stockings back up.

“You best know, I’m gonna fuck that pretty ass of yours too, after I eat, an haves me a beer, an a smoke.”

Paul suddenly realized he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten since the day before going to the bar, and he had no money. 

“Can I have a bite too?”

“OK bitch, white boy, but you gots’ta beg. He, He” 

Lee opened a can of fish steaks and held up one by the tail; Paul took off the panty hose as lee indicated him do,  and he slid over and under the treat, and opened his mouth as     Lee teased the boy to jump up off his kneeled position to snatch the meat in his teeth. Lee took long drags from his Kool cigarette, leaned back on his elbows laughing at Paul’s degradation.

Paul made little piggy sounds as he rooted about for a piece that had fallen to the nasty floor.  Lee then tossed the cigarette, whipped out his 12 inch cock, hardened with a viagra, and put a piece of the fish on his cock head. 

Paul got the message, ate it, and sucked at length on Lee’s fat pole. Lee grabbed the boy flipped him dog style, and planted his cock in Paul’s dog slobber lubed, cum filled, stinking anus.

“Hold still bitch!” 

Lee got his kit of meth/heroin out, and put a line of powder out on Paul’s back and snorted it as he slid his huge cock in and out the boy’s already stretched hole, slapping the white fanny. Some of the powder accidentally went from lee’s nose to Paul’s anus via, 12 Lee’s inch dick. They both lost consciousness.

It was dark when Paul awoke hours later or regained consciousness, since the lapse was owing to Lee’s fentanyl. Paul was feeling no pain — nor Lee. 

Lee was still laying upon Paul’s back, his hard cock still planted to the hilt in Paul’s ass; but Lee was dead. 

Lee’s snaggle toothed mouth, stupidly open with tongue protruding, was drooling a pink foam; his eyes glazed dilated, half open, uneven, but dead still, illuminated under the pocket light was scary to Paul. Paul had found the thumb light in Charle’s leather vest side pocket with a house key attached. 

Paul had never seen a dead person; and poked Lee’s hard wet penis with the key to see some yellowish cum dribble out. With a finger he wiped it up, and Kang eagerly licked it.  

Lee’s pants were already down around his knees, so Paul pulled them off, and put on the oversized pants. He as well donned the dead man's, shoes, and plaid coat. He rifled the black guy’s pockets for money, ($4000 in cash, yay!), or anything useful (a cell phone fully charged), and a nine 9mm pistol!  

With Kang chasing after, the runaway slave headed back to the freeway. Paul crossed the highway to enter the on-ramp, and he saw the dog run-over by a tractor trailer. He heard the dog’s high pitched death howl, and saw from the Harley’s rear view mirror, the dog’s body tumble behind the never slowing truck, in bloody pieces. He smiled, looking like a child all bundled in big men’s raiment, Paul full throttled the mighty bike into the dark.

(to be continued)