My life in submission to an Asian man

Normal disclaimers: This story is fiction. It contains graphic depictions of sex between men. If it is illegal for you to read it, don’t. Thanks!

Please let me know in the comments or in an email if you have any recommendations (especially for the Asianwashing), anything you’d like to see or any feedback!

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From Chapter 11

I felt his hand grip my hair and he pulled me up before starting the almost ceremonial power fuck of my throat. The training really was working. It was easier, almost natural even, to accept his forceful use of my trachea as a pocket pussy.

And when he finally let loose his load, causing me to choke and sputter and fear some of it might escape through my nose, I was sad that he was done.

With the act of swallowing all his cum and letting him deflate in my mouth, I realized I hadn’t cum and my balls were aching again.

But I didn’t care. I would deal with it.

Alex grappled his hands under my arms and pulled me up to him, pecking me on the lips and the staring into my eyes. I knew it was coming but the incomprehensible joy still almost induced cardiac arrest.

“I love you, too, Jackson.”

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Chapter 12

I was walking on air. Alex and I went through our morning ritual, showering and me drying him off. He gave me the task of studying the Korean alphabet today. By the end of the week he wanted me to be able to read aloud it well, even if I couldn’t translate it.

And that was how it went. That weekend, Alex took me out dancing on Friday and Saturday nights and fucked a guy in the back of the car while I, completely naked except for the cage, was ordered to watch silently. He even let the stranger he played with on Saturday toy with my cage a little as they flirted and kissed wearing nothing and shining in the amber glow of the streetlamp with a light sweat on their bodies from their exertions after my Master filled him with cum. The stranger on Friday, though, made racist remarks toward Alex after they’d fucked.

Alex had Armando, who had driven us that night and was waiting in the car like a chauffeur while we danced, drive down the road and kicked the racist piece of shit out on a lightly traveled portion, naked, and slammed the door, throwing his clothes out the window. Sitting in the backseat now, having been ordered to get out, wearing nothing, and get in the back seat with Alex and the stupid white bitch he’d conquered that night (I of course followed the order without hesitation or complaint, trusting my Master to keep me safe even if I was seen in public without clothes on), I was slightly taken aback. But I didn’t find it unduly cruel. The slut should have realized he was an inferior in the presence of a superior, thanked him for the amazing fuck my Master had given him and begged him to lock his dick up and add him to the roster of slaves practically dying to surrender their bodies to Alex for his gratification.

Anybody who disrespected my Master, as far as I was concerned, deserved worse humiliation than the whore got. Alex had, in my mind, every right to dump him like that right in the middle of the crowded street in front of the clubs. What he did was merciful.

I had by now, sudden as it was, accepted my new reality with zeal. It was indescribably glorious to watch my Master order his Latino houseboy slave to walk with us to the car wearing nothing but his cock cage and a pair of trainers (Alex called them that instead of sneakers and I immediately adopted the term) and drive us that way, then wait in such a state of undress for our Master to return with me and a new conquest for us to watch him fuck.

He didn’t fuck me for the rest of the week, or over the weekend, seemingly satisfied with using Armando or the sluts he picked up at the club. But, desperate as I was to serve and be used and, yes, to cum from being fucked by Alex, I found that my envy of the toys he selected to use was secondary to my admiration of this Asian Adonis. On Saturday, he and I walked into the club and he immediately saw the boy he was going to screw. Without a word to me, he walked up to the twink who was standing at the bar waiting for the bartender’s attention, put his index finger under his chin and turned him to face my Master. I watched in awe as Alex stared into the boy’s eyes for a full five seconds before the slut, a gorgeous twink with silky blond hair and blue eyes wearing a form fitting, patterned button down with skinny jeans and chelsea boots, stood on his toes and tried to kiss Alex.

My master pulled away, not breaking eye contact, and told the boy to say “please.”

And just like that, he owned the slut. He bought drinks for the two of them then they went to the dance floor where they stumbled around, their eyes closed and lips locked to each other as I stood to the side and watched. Plenty of attractive men tried to get me to dance with them, too, but I wasn’t even slightly interested. Even watching him seduce another twink to play with and, in most cases he’d told me, throw away when he was done, I was completely loyal to Alex.

It wasn’t even 20 minutes later before Alex was leading his conquest off the dance floor, his right arm over the bottom’s shoulder, and grabbed me by my upper arm to lead us out.

“This is Jackson,” Alex said in way of introduction. “He’s mine. He’ll watch.”

The twink took it in stride and nodded to me but didn’t introduce himself.

When we got to the car, Alex opened the door for his new fuckboy and told me bluntly to get in the front seat passenger seat and do the same as the night before. As I watched them, Alex and the twink started making out. My Master was a sex god. An expert in all things erotic pleasure. Before even a single piece of clothing was off, he had his slut moaning so loud I was certain people in the townhomes along the street on which we’d parked could hear. I was so proud. My Master was doing that. MY Master. He’d chosen ME to be his property, and he could do THAT.

The twink took a couple of glances at me, kneeling naked in the passenger seat and facing them, lingering for a moment at one point on my caged dick that was straining pointlessly for release, but didn’t say anything or break his primary focus on Alex. When his shirt came off, Alex unbottoning it halfway and the yanking it over the fuckboy’s head, I saw a gloriously taut chest and abs. So lean and wel balanced between feminine and masculine. I estimated he was freshly 21 or possibly as young as 19 with a fake ID to get in the club, like me. 

I’d enjoyed watching my Master fuck the racist garbage the night prior, before we learned he was racist garbage who didn’t know his place as a white inferior in the presence of an Asian God, but this was so much better.

I could tell my Master felt something here. Some sort of carnal passion. He was controlling as was his nature, but he was also gentle and focusing on the twink’s pleasure as much as his own. When Alex grabbed ahold of his partner’s dick, having not even shedded a single item of his own clothing, and licked it, I felt goosebumps. I was watching a live display of pure, passionate art. The lust my Master was indulging wasn’t driven just by a desire to get off but by one also to join himself physically to his fuckboy. It was similar, though not as powerful I knew, to what he felt with me. A part of me wondered if Alex was in some part of his mind considering enslaving this twink and actually expanding his following of unquestioningly devoted servants. A part of me actually hoped so.

The way he engulfed the twink dick did shoot a pang of jealousy through me, but I quickly surpressed it. Sure, I wanted so terribly to know what it felt like to get head, especially from the man I worshipped, but also knew that maintaining my purity through the chastity cage for my God would leave me with a reward that would last my whole life, the reward of knowing without a doubt that I was a human being who submitted enthusiastically to ownership by this example of such perfection.

Alex was so good at giving head, apparently, that he was actively edging the twink with his mouth after less than two whole minutes. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Alex told me earlier that he enjoys sucking cock sometimes and, as a superior man, what he enjoys should be indulged and never questioned by inferiors. It shouldn’t surprise me that he was so good at it. 

When after, without exaggeration, 30 minutes of the twink thrashing about, moaning, begging and crying for release my Master finally let him cum, it was with the loudest, most animalistic moan of ecstasy I’d ever heard. But I knew, and it seemed the fuckboy knew just as well, that his orgasm was just a side effect of my Master enjoying himself. Sex wasn’t over until Alex said it was over. 

Alex gave the fuckboy a minute to catch his breath, occupying himself with exploring the boy’s body with his hands. It was like watching g an art curator examining a sculpture that was designed to be touched and felt. It was maybe three minutes later that the twink looked into my Master’s eyes with what I could only describe as a gaze of renewed lust and understanding of his duty to continue until Alex was fully satisfied. His lips were locked back on my Master’s.

The whole display had me so horned up that if Alex stuck just his pinky up my pussy and wiggled it I would have a volcanic orgasm. 

They hadn’t spoken since they got in the back seat of the car, with the exceptions of my Master’s conquest’s near unintelligible begs while he was being edged. They didn’t start now.

Alex unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, giving the night’s toy his first look at Alex’s Greek god body. The boy was transfixed. It was only Alex’s hand lightly, playfully even, wrapping around his throat that brought him back to the present. I could relate. Alex and the twink made out more before my Master moved the twink’s mouth to his left nipple. He let go of the boy’s head and let him explore freely. I loved watching my Master relax and enjoy the service of a man, and the care with which this boy was exploring Alex’s body made me feel good. He was treating my Master’s body the way it deserved to be treated. He was admiring it, obviously managing an awestruck, lust addled mind to treat his superior with delicacy, respect and worshipfulness.

Alex let the boy explore him forever. It must have been nearly an hour. At one point he spread his arms across the back of the seat and the twink licked and kissed his muscles arms. Then he rested his hands behind his head and the boy lapped at his hairless armpits. When that near-hour was over, Alex undid his belt and button and let the twink take off his jeans and underwear. And, of course, he gasped when my Master’s cock sprang free.

The twink had a respectable sized dick. But compared to Alex, he might as well have had a micropenis. He spent another near-hour licking, kissing. and sucking at my Master’s cock, balls and legs. Every time the angle was right for me to see the twink’s cute face, I saw puppy dog eyes staring up at my Master, thanking him wordlessly and endlessly foe this experience.

My position in the front seat was beginning to get uncomfortable and the area now had a few pedestrians making their ways to the clubs, but I didn’t dare move for fear of missing even a moment of this. Even the necessity of blinking felt like a curse. Alex knew he was superior. He knew he was deserving of worship and awe, so Alex simply sat back and relaxed in the backseat of the Range Rover, allowing one of his inferiors to enjoy devoting himself to Alex. 

But when it came time, Alex took control. He gently fucked the twink’s throat before having him straddle him. As the twink slowly, gingerly lowered himself onto Alex’s solid cock, my Master made eye contact with me and smirked. He could see perfectly how he’d turned me into a whipped bitch, constantly in heat over him.

Alex let the twink ride him for a long while before he took over, slowly pistoning in and out of the fuckboy until he reached an intense orgasm. To some degree, he was making love to this submissive stranger. And at feeling my Master’s cock twitching and continuing to rub against his prostate, the slut started cumming too.

When it was over, the twink sat down on Alex’s still-fully erect cock, resting on his lap, and the two gazed into each others eyes until they caught their breaths. 

Alex finally told the bottom to slowly get off his cock but try to hold the cum in.

“The boy will drink the cum out of you,” he said.

I felt hesitant but didn’t let it show as I leaned forward and locked my lips around the gaping hole my Master had just filled as soon ad it was off Alex’s cock. I hoped to every god, deity and higher power in the universe this slut was truly and well cleaned out. And when the load of Asian cum began flowing into my mouth I was relieved to taste that he was.

Alex scooter over to the driver side and ordered me to get out of the Range Rover and move to the back seat. I did as I was told but I did it beat red as an older couple walking toward the clubs catcalled me as the strode past. 

When I got into the backseat, Alex was making out with the twink again. It was so intimate and romantic that I almost felt bad for intruding on the moment to watch the man who was not only my owner and God but my boyfriend kiss this other man. I was also overcome with jealousy. 

Jealousy in almost all forms comes from fear. I knew that. This jealousy was the fear that Alex was rapidly falling for this boy in the same way he felt for me and that I would be replaced. But as I continued watching, envious almost to the point of anger toward the twink for taking the attention that I wanted, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling incredibly turned on. This was the thing you sometimes looked for in porn but could never truly find. The only way to see such intimate and genuine passion and lust without being a participant was to be in the same space with two men who were completely ignoring you. And I had a front row seat.

When they broke the kiss, Alex gingerly moved the twink’s head to his chest.

“That was fucking fantastic,” Alex said. The fuckboy beamed up at him. “You were such a good boy. Did everything I wanted you to without me having to give instruction.”

I felt disappointed. Alex still needed to give me instructions sometimes. While I was getting better at knowing what he wanted and needed without him having to speak, I knew I wasn’t as good as this random twink. It wasn’t self doubt or frustration that he was complimenting this boy who was a stranger. It was a recognition of my need to improve.

“I know my boyfriend enjoyed it, too,” Alex said with a smile directed at me. I nodded sheepishly in response and Alex chuckled and as the boy he’d just bred looked at me with a strange expression, as if even after being introduced to me in the club and having me watch him with my Master and giving me my Master’s cum to eat from his mouth, he was still surprised to find that I was there.

“Boyfriend?” he asked softly. His voice was slightly feminine, not like Alex or Armando or me, who had obviously gay but still slightly more masculine voices. “Does this mean there’s no option for this to be more than a one-time thing?”

It was Alex’s turn to hide his surprise. I don’t think he expected the slut to be so blunt. But after a split second he smirked and looked at me.

“Find his phone for me, Jackson,” Alex ordered me.

I dug around in the clothes piled on the floorboard until I found the twink’s pants and handed Alex the phone.

“Unlock it,” he told the twink, using that tone that was sweet and kind but unmistakably not a request.

The slut did as he was told and my Master put his number in and sent a text to himself.

“My phone now, Jackson,” he said, speaking in the same tone.

I handed it to him and he hold both phones in his hand.

“What’s your name?” Alex asked, unlocking his own phone. “I could just put in here ‘Daddy’s good slut from the club who put out so easily in my car,’ but I’m finding myself infatuated with you.”

That made the twink blush.

“Elliot Pratt,” he told him.

Alex started creating the contact based on the text he’d just sent from Elliot’s phone.

“What’s your address, Elliot?” he demanded politely, in the way I’d never heard from anybody but him.

This time the boy hesitated but told my Master. He lived about 20 minutes from us.

“Live alone?”

Another slight hesitation and then the twink answered “Yes. I go to the university there but I have my own apartment.”

It was amazing to see such immediate submission. And based on what I’d seen, my still uneducated guess was that this slut was an inexperienced but natural submissive.

They talked a while longer about how good the sex was, how cute the other was, how glad they were they’d met. I still hadn’t said a word, somehow sending my role was to be there as an observer and maybe even as an example of what Alex would expect of the slut if he were to decide to undertake the role of another slave to Alex.

At one point, though, Elliot broached the subject of my chastity.

“Is your boyfriend always locked up?” he asked, looking at my caged nub but talking as if I weren’t there.

“Yep,” Alex answered casually. “I locked his dick away on our first date and he hasn’t been unlocked since. I may never unlock him unless it’s medically necessary. We’ll just have to see it I have a good reason one day.”

Elliot looked puzzled but not turned off by it.

“Does he… I guess… like it?”

“Definitely,” Alex answered. “Because he’s not just my boyfriend. He’s my slave.”

Alex let it sink in a moment. Elliot looked a little more puzzled now but nodded as he processed the information. Nothing about his expression or body language spoke to any discomfort or unease.

“See, Jackson is a firm believer that I am a superior man and he is an inferior boy,” Alex continued after head satisfied Elliot was keeping up. “He feels, and rightfully so, that his purpose in life is to submit to me by giving me ownership of his body. Accepting that he is naturally less than me, both because of his natural, instinctual submissive mindset and because of my superiority as an Asian and his inferiority to me because he is Caucasian. Close to Asian in terms of racial hierarchy, but that ‘Cauc’ in front makes a world of difference.”

Alex paused again and draped his arm over Elliot’s shoulder before continuing. Elliot was now looking at Alex with true intrigue.

“Now, a part of that is just raceplay. A kink,” Alex explained. “Outside of my relationships with submissives and with my peers in the community of Asian Supremacy raceplay, I don’t believe that anybody is better or worse based on their race or nationality or any other part of themselves they don’t have control over. Jackson, I can assure you, is the same.

“But in our relationship, we both wholeheartedly act on the belief that because I am Korean and Japanese in heritage and his origins are British, Irish and German, I have a natural, indisputable right to own him, control him, use him however I want.”

“But he’s also your boyfriend?” Elliot asked. There was a curiosity in his voice that I was pretty certain was a consequence of some unawakened desire of which he still wasn’t totally aware.

Alex chuckled and then took a moment to respond.

“He is,” he said simply at first, pausing again to make sure he articulated his next thoughts before speaking them. “Jackson is my boyfriend. And I love him just as truly as anybody else loves.”

My heart jumped and that creeping fear of being replaced vanished.

“It’s just different,” Alex continued to explain. “See, he is my boyfriend and I love him and care for him and want to make him happy. But there’s also something naturally dominant in me. Some instinctual. It’s the opposite of Jackson’s instinct to submit. So aside from my racial superiority, there is just a natural role the universe has picked for us. He was destined to be owned property of a superior man, even if that man was only superior because of his dominant instinct and not race. And I was destined by the universe to own submissive sluts like him.”

Elliot nodded and looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how.

“Yes,” Alex interpreted from Elliot’s reaction. “I do think you’re instinctually submissive. Not as submissive as Jackson, which means that even if I am able to fall in love with you, too, one day, my truest love will be Jackson.”

Another pause as Alex let the startled reaction fade from Elliot’s mind and body. I realized now that I was leaning in to better hear. Their voices were low. For Alex, this was still flirting. Just as much as talking about how pretty someone’s eyes are or how cute their laugh is.

“And yes, I do believe that you are racially inferior to me.”

“Does that-“ Elliot started to blurt but stopped to regain his composure. “Does that mean you’ll put me in chastity, too?”

Dumbstruck. I was totally dumbstruck. Just like that, Alex had seduced Elliot and put him perfectly into the mindset of a dedicated and excited slave. And all Alex did was smirk and let out a little air through his nose in light amusement.

“I don’t think you have the right type of submissiveness for me to lock you like Jackson,” Alex said. “I might lock you away for short periods. Or longer ones, if I think you’ve done something worthy of being punished and that’s the appropriate sentence. But Jackson loves his devotion to me through chastity. It’s one of the specific ways he demonstrated his submission to me. You have other ways, and we’ll find them.”

I was still too stunned to think coherently on my own, barely able to muster the mental bandwidth to follow the conversation happening right in front of me.

“You wanna check out the cage?” Alex asked.

“Sure,” Elliot said. 

Alex went suddenly serious and stared at Elliot.

“Yes, sir,” Elliot amended without being told. Alex was once again smiling softly, kindness in his eyes.

“Go ahead,” Alex told him. “Play with it. It’s what it’s for. We can keep talking in a minute and you can sort of fidget with his little locked up whitey dicklet. It’s fun, trust me.”

Elliot reached toward me hesitantly and my heart started racing. The smallest part of me wanted to protest. Elliot wasn’t my Master, Alex was. Why did Elliot get to play with my Master’s property? But that question was the answer in and of itself. I was my Master’s property. If he invited someone to touch me, kiss me or do anything at all with or to me, it was my duty as his slave to not only allow it but make it easier for the person to whom he’d made the offer. So as Elliot’s hand got closer I spread my legs further apart to give him easier access to my “little locked up whitey dicklet.”

A sudden, electric thrill exploded through my body as his warm hand made contact. The cage was pushed out slightly by what little of my dick was hard outside the constraints of the cage. First he caressed my balls, full and slightly aching with a basic physical need for release. He lifted them, examined how tight the sack was and how my balls had pulled up as far as they could. Then he released them and put his index finger between the cage and my balls, lifting that up as if to determine it’s weight.

I suppressed moan after moan, feeling that it would be inappropriate for me to react to someone other than my owner touching my caged dick.

“It’s ok,” Alex said. “You’re allowed to react.”

With that permission I let out a moan and Elliot looked me in the eye for the first time since this had all started. It was only for a second, and he laughed shyly before redoubling his efforts to explore and play with it which left me feeling incredibly embarrassed. But that didn’t stop me. I was moaning and leaking precum like crazy now.

“You should try playing with his nipples a little,” Alex told Elliot. “He likes that a lot.”

It was like telling someone that your dog likes it when you scratch behind his ears.

Elliot took a second more to examine my nub before doing as Alex suggested. I was whimpering now, on top of the moans.

“Have you ever been in a relationship with a dom or a master?” Alex asked.

“No, sir,” Elliot answered. “I’ve always liked that kinda thing in porn and kinda fantasized about it a little sometimes, though. And I’ve played a submissive role in a couple of hookups before.”

Alex nodded knowingly.

“This will be different,” he said, putting his hands around Elliot’s waste and teasing his dick. I looked down to see Elliot was fully hard again already. Then I saw Alex’s monster cock was also at full mast again, too. Elliot was turned on playing with my body. Alex was turned on watching it. I was out of my mind horned up by all of it, from Alex’s words and the way he spoke them to the physical experience I was undergoing.

“So,” Alex said. “How does a boy like you end up so fucking gorgeous and yet alone in the club?”

We’d arrived at the club at 9. This time Armando had stayed home because he had too many chores to do. Alex and Elliot had sex, including foreplay and the time Alex let his new slut worship and explore his body, for almost three hours non-stop. Then they talked for another hour and a half, whispering sweet nothings and talking about their interests and likes and dislikes. 

Elliot had gone back to fondling my locked dick and I was moaning so much that my throat started to hurt. I couldn’t keep track of their conversation, the physical sensations were so constant and distracting, but they continued talking, ignoring any sounds I made as if I weren’t worth noticing. The one thing I did noticed was Alex regularly watching Elliot use my nub as a fidget toy. Even as Elliot became consumed by the conversation and what he was doing with my body became an absentminded action, his dick deflating, Alex stayed hard and focused on me as he watched. It felt amazing to know that he was enjoying what he was seeing. That was my purpose. He had every right to lend my body to another for his own enjoyment. I felt fulfilled because of that enjoyment.

By 1:30, when Alex told him to go home and get some sleep and he and I headed back to the club, I could tell Elliot Pratt was already the newly conquered property and freshly initiated devotee of Alex Hwang-Tanaka. There was no going back now for the white twink whore. What that meant for our home dynamics, I wasn’t sure. I trusted that Alex had a plan so there was no need to question it.

But my Master surprised me as we walked back to the club.

“I don’t totally own him yet,” Alex told me. I’d gotten dressed back in my black Versace jockstrap, jeans and button down and Alex had his arm around my shoulder.

“I thought you’d already won him over,” I said innocently.

“Nah,” Alex answered casually. “Made some good progress, and he seemed very receptive. But we’ll see if he answers when I call tomorrow, and what kind of response he’ll have.”

We danced the rest of the night. The club closed at 4 a.m. and Alex drove us home. We were both so exhausted that after getting ready for bed we fell asleep almost immediately, laying with my back to Alex’s chest and his arm draped over me.

The week was what I’d come to know as my new normal. Every day I woke up to throat training and the reward of Alex’s cum. Every night he fucked Armando. On Wednesday night, though, he tortured me by playing with my body, licking me, biting me, slapping me, kissing me and finally fucking me but stopping any time I got anywhere near the edge until he unloaded inside me and I fell asleep with horrendous blue balls but focusing on the satisfaction I had from being used. He’d called Elliot the Sunday after meeting him and the silly white whore picked up and was clearly thrilled that Alex had actually called like he promised.

Friday, though, was the big day. I knew it.

I had no clue what I was to expect. The invitation Alex had received the day my mother came to visit said it was an interactive art exhibit with pieces submitted by masters for gay dominant Asian and Latino men where everyone was expected to bring a slave, slaves were required to be naked except two accessories including a cage, if they had one installed over their dicks, there would be a public punishment room and that slaves were prohibited from having refreshments.

Alex received a second letter Thursday with the address and start time. It was 9 p.m. at a gallery in Dallas. It also boasted of a few “surprise features inspired by one of the club president’s favorite porn series.”

Alex came home from work early and told me we would be leaving early to meet up with one of his friends who was also attending the exhibit.

He picked out my outfit and we got ready. Alex took Armando to one of the rooms I hadn’t been in yet and returned without him as we were getting ready to walk out the door.

“Put him on the fuck machine,” Alex told me, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Alex confirmed my suspicion, based on the invitation to the event, that the friend we were going to see was another Master. His name was Jae, and he was newer to the world of dominant men. Alex had spent a year mentoring him, finishing with what had been weekly sessions in which for six months Jae had been treated and expected to act like Alex’s slave three nights a week and six months in which Alex had leant him Armando and overseen his domination of the houseboy three nights a week. That was nearly another six months ago now.

When Alex decided he was ready, he’d helped Jae, a Korean man of 22, find a slave. With Jae, they’d done it through Tinder. Alex helped him seduce one 19 year old, but when Jae met the boy confessed that he was only 17 for another month. Jae knew it was risky, but he decided to go ahead and start training him. The boy was, to the best of their knowledge, a virgin. 

So Jae moved him into the house and trained him in houseboy duties and began punishing him four nights a week for an hour each night, just to “break in the slut-to-be and get it used to being abused without protest if that’s what its owner wants.” 

“He took to it like a natural,” Alex told me.

The agreement was that until is 18th birthday, the boy would not leave the house, would wear nothing but a pair of bikini briefs and would consent to being tied up and left in the closet to sleep every single night. Having already been through that for one night, I couldn’t imagine how desperate this slave must have been to endure it every night for a whole 32 days until its birthday. There would be no sex, and even during the nearly nightly punishments the slave would never be naked in front of its master.

By the laws in the state, he was technically an adult and could do and consent to what he wanted, but Alex and Jae agreed it would be “discomforting” to knowingly do something sexual with someone under 18. Still, the boy had every right to engage in consensual abuse and be trained to work as a slave for Jae. 

On the slave’s 18th birthday, Jae invited Alex and two other masters who were friends over for a party. When Alex arrived, Jae had installed a setup like Alex had in the apartment to tie the slave into a vertical spread eagle. And that’s just what he’d done. The boy, with bruises on his back, a gag in his mouth, clamps on his nipples and exhausted eyes with bags under them, was tied spread eagle.

“A real pretty item,” Alex told me. “Fair skinned, dark hair, no body hair except for its still-unseen pubes. Some toning but mainly a lean twink.”

Jae had taken care of the slave’s needs, so he wasn’t starved. But he was very tired from 32 nights spent tied up in a way intentionally uncomfortable, on the hardwood in the closet without so much as a pillow or blanket and 10 days of physical abuse. Still, Alex said, the barely legal twink had a full erection.

As we grew nearer to Jae’s house, Alex told me that when the other masters arrived with their slaves, they were seated on the couch as Jae began what the young master called a coming of age ritual. He cut off the twink’s Fruit of the Loom briefs and everyone got their first view of the birthday boy’s dick. 

Jae shaved the pubes there in front of everybody while degrading the slave.

“Piece of white trash faggot,” Jae called him. “Look at this pathetic mayoskin dick. You’re lucky any Asian man would want you, especially one as good as me.”

“The silly little whitey was blushing the whole time,” Alex said, his voice light with amusement as he reminisced.

By the time the slave was pube-free, Alex and the other two masters had their slaves worshiping their cocks. Armando was forced to deep throat Alex for a minute at a time before getting five second breaks for air, never allowed to let Alex’s glorious, huge golden cock more than halfway out his mouth.

Jae did CBT next, slapping his slave’s balls and twisting its testicles and erect cock painfully for about 20 minutes before announcing that the birthday lunch the slave had prepared was to be served. The slave, of course, would not be eating. Instead, Jae had the other three slaves go and get a folding table, set it up with a tablecloth and set places for their owners, then serve the masters with Jae’s newly legal slave hanging helplessly about a foot away from its master.

As Alex went on I got a clearer and clearer picture of what type of master Jae was. He was cruel and sadistic. He wanted to humiliate and hurt his slave in front of others. I knew that if that were my introduction to the world of sex slave and Master, I would have fled for my life.

But, Alex said, Jae’s slave was a glutton for abuse. 

“Some slaves have it in their DNA to actively seek out abuse,” Alex told me. “If Jae’s slave had me for a master, he’s the type that would misbehave in increasingly dramatic fashion just so I would be forced to punish him more and more harshly. That he has Jae as a master is a blessing, because a lot of slaves like that end up with truly cruel, even evil masters who fully beat their slaves, sometimes unconscious. Those animals aren’t welcome in our community. But Jae is a good master who takes care of his slave’s needs. The fact that they have a schedule for when Jae will abuse him is something that gives the slave mental and emotional stability. The surprise punishments in front of an audience from time to time are like an added bonus for it.”

After eating dinner, everyone was invited to play with Jae’s helpless slave’s body. Its first introduction to sexual contact (if  it was being honest about its virginity, which Alex told me he thought it was but he didn’t know it well enough to be certain) was objectifying and demeaning.

“When the day over, the slave told us — and this I do believe unquestioningly because of the way it told us — that it had dreamed of that sort of scenario for years and hoped its virginity would be taken from it just like that,” Alex said. “The slut was hard the whole time.”

Alex paused for a moment and laughed at a thought he was having.

“Well, hard the whole time it could be.”

After everyone had touched and fondled and molested the willing 18-year-old birthday twink, Jae took it down and brought it to kneel weakly in front of him while he sat on the couch. He asked everyone to tell the slave what a slut and fag and inferior it was while it sucked Jae’s cock — the first cock it’d ever served.

At this point, Alex said, everyone was naked. Slaves were kneeling next to masters as they watched and the owners helped Jae by insulting and degrading the twink as Jae enjoyed the blowjob when it was good and gave instructions and slapped the slaves on the top of its head when it messed up, like taking his cock out of its mouth or letting its master’s cock touch its teeth. The whole time, Alex said, the slave’s dick was hard  as a rock.

Jae stopped the slave when it finally after nearly an hour and a half got him to the edge. It was time for the slaves birthday present, he’d announced. The slave actually looked excited, Alex told me with another laugh.

“Silly whitey slut’s expression when it tore away the wrapping to find a brand new dick cage was priceless,” Alex told me. 

All the other masters held the slave in place while Jae whipped the slave until it was finally enough to be unpleasant and its dick went completely flaccid, Alex said. Then he put the cage on and led the slave and all the guests to the bedroom, where he gagged it again and fucked it.

“He ravaged the slut’s pussy in four different positions,” Alex said. “Then he tied it down to the bed and without a word each one of us masters fucked it and bred it with another load. It wasn’t ready for that. But it was great. I went right after Jae and that whore’s hole was still almost as tight as yours was the first time.”

And with that, Alex pulled the car to the side of the neighborhood street and turned it off.

“Here it is,” Alex told me, pointing at a small mid-century home.

My first reaction was surprised understanding. I’d just assumed every master was well-off like Alex. But this small home spoke to a man who was still building wealth.

“He’s like most of us in the community, starting from the bottom, financially, but working his way up and making enough to provide for himself and his slave,” Alex said. “The house is small but it’s nice inside. Jae’s asked us in for some drinks before we go to the gallery.”

I wholeheartedly expected to walk in and find Jae’s slave hanging spread eagle as Alex had described to me. Instead, the cute twink was the one to open the door and take Alex and my coats.

“Good evening, Master Alex,” the slave greeted.

He was a little shorter and leaner than me, dressed in a maid outfit with a skirt that was entirely too short,, offering a plain view of his locked white dicklet. With a nod from Alex, I knew what was was expected of me. As I stripped I handed each piece of clothing to the slave whose name I still didn’t know. He hung it all in a coat closet just inside the door.

I looked around the small house as the slave picked up a tray from a small table and offered a cocktail sitting on it to Alex.

“My Master will be with you shortly, Master Alex,” the slave said. “If I may, I’ll go let him know you’re here.”

Alex took the drink and nodded and the slave bowed and took three steps backward with his head lowered before turning around walking away. I watched as he walked away, his creamy white ass anything but hidden by the skirt.

“What should I call his slave, Master,” I asked.

“It’s name is Caden, so you can call it that,” Alex said. “Jae calls it a bunch of different names. I think his favorite is ‘bitch fag,’ but that may have changed.”

When Jae walked into the room followed by Caden, I was taken aback by his beauty. Not quite as gorgeous as Alex, but the closest I’d seen. He had what I can only describe as a stereotypical Asian haircut, almost a bowl but with more sense of style and taste than a white man with a bowl cut. His eyes were brown, his hair totally black. He was thin, not heavily muscled but decently proportioned. He wore a black-blue form fitting button down, a black tie with thin, glossy black lines creating an almost invisible pattern, a black jacket, black slacks and black dress shoes. 

“Hey, bud,” Jay said, shaking Alex’s hand. “Did this faggot bitch take care of you properly?”

“It did,” Alex said, smiling at his younger friend. Then he turned to look at me. “This is my boyfriend, Jackson.”

Jae looked quizzically from me to Alex.

“Don’t worry, he’s still enslaved to me,” Alex reassured him. “But he is my boyfriend and exclusive to me.”

Jae laughed at that, and Alex laughed back.

“At least for now, I’m serious,” Alex amended with continued laughter.

I can’t tell you what it is about Alex talking to someone else about me as if I’m not there that is so satisfying, but it is. I love standing there, naked but for a cage on my dick, being talked about like a lesser being. The way Alex does it, it’s like endearment from him. He’s so comfortable with it, so secure in the fact that I belong to him, that it’s nothing to ignore my sentience and speak about me or for me. That knowledge and confidence is the result of something he’s proud of in me. Something he loves about me. His happiness about my loyalty and obedience and dedication to him and it’s state as a solid, unwavering truth, was clear in the way he spoke in these situations.

It was like he was bragging about not only his control over me but my craving to be under his control.

“Well, then, does Jackson get to have drinks with us?” Jae asked.

“You’re the host,” Alex told him. “I would allow him to have one, but it’s up to you if he’s allowed and up to him if he wants to.”

Jae laughed silently, shaking his head, then looked at me.

“You want a drink, Jackson?”

“I would love one,” I answered. “Thank you, sir.”

We sat and I was given a mezcal cocktail that I sipped on while my Master and Jae talked. But I had a hard time devoting 100% of my attention to the conversation, even though I was encouraged to participate, because Jae had attached a dildo to the floor with a super strength suction cup and ordered his slave to ride ride it while we talked.

It was amazing to see this adorable twink there, in a maid outfit with a skirt that covered nothing. He wasn’t hot or sexy. He was cute and adorable, but would somehow still be incredibly slutty looking even if he were fully dressed and I had no clue that he was a gay slave.

At one point, Jae told Alex to “watch this” and turned to Caden.

“Who other than me fucked your pussy last week, bitch?” Jae asked.

“Master David and six other men I didn’t see, Master,” the slave answered, not stopping or faltering in the smooth pace he had set for riding the dildo.

“How was it with David?” Jae asked.

“It was amazing, Master,” Caden answered. “Not nearly as transcendent as my Master’s cock but amazing nonetheless.”

Alex and Jae both laughed at that.

“How many times did he fuck you?”

“Four times, Master,” Caden replied. “Each time he fucked me he blessed me with another superior Latin load and then rewarded me for being a good boy with CBT, Master.”

“Do you like it when I invite other men here to play with your body?”

“Yes, Master,” Caden said, now sounding a little winded from the effort of riding a dildo and carrying a conversation at the same time. “This worthless white whore is so lucky and thankful to have a Master who uses and abused this faggot slave every day and then allows other superior men to bless the fag with their cocks and abuse, Master.”

As much as this sounded almost rehearsed, Caden’s words were obviously genuine and heartfelt. Ignoring my leaking locked dick, I was amazed by the way Caden loved to be hurt and fucked brutally. His eyes were bright and his voice though soft wasn’t shy. It was proud.

“What about the anonymous sex? Tell us what happened there.”

“Master tied his faggot slave’s hands to the headboard of the bed and then pulled it’s legs back to tie them there as well, then he put a blindfold and nipple clamps on his slave and invited several men over,” Caden said. My jaw had dropped. I was visualizing this now and it was so hot I felt my dicklet trying to twitch and my pussy pucker. “The men came with Master’s invitation and bred Master’s slave’s pussy eight times and fed the faggot six loads of cum in its mouth, covered the slave with load after load of cum until it was soaked and then tourtured it with hot wax and clothesline pins all over its body before breeding the faggot five more times.”

Ho-ly-fuck, I thought. I wished I could see it.

“How was it,” Jae asked.

“It was one of the most exciting, rewarding and fulfilling experiences of my life, Master.”

“Do you know how many men were there, bitch?”

“No, Master,” Caden answered.

Even knowing that this slaveboy was a top-tier masochist owned by a top-tier sadist and that he was an absolute cockhungry cumthirsty whore, I couldn’t imagine all of this happening to him. It was amazing. And the look in his eyes as he and Jae made eye contact while the slave recounted the scene told me without a doubt that he felt the same love for his master as I felt for mine.

“Does it matter how many men the slave’s master lets use its body?” Jae asked, a cruel but proud smile on his face.

“Master’s faggot doesn’t care how many men are invited to use it’s body,” Caden said. “The slave’s body belongs unconditionally to its Master, and serving its Master and anybody else its Master tells it to serve is its purpose and fulfills the slave.”

“Are you curious how many were there for that session?” Jae asked.

“Yes, Master,” Caden answered. His pace was starting falter now. I drank the last sip of my cocktail in preparation for the answer.

“There were 20 men there, slut,” Jae said, his facial expression that of someone who just told a hilarious joke. “You sucked all their cocks, more than half of them fucked you, everyone came at least twice, and at least one of those on your face or body.”

Caden’s tired smile was one of unbridled pride.

“Thank you for giving me that experience, Master!” Caden all but shouted.

“You’re welcome, you faggot whore,” Jae said. “No go put on the street clothes I left out for you. We’re leaving.”

Alex directed me to get dressed as well and I stood, bowed to my Master and Jae, then turned and walked to the closet and put my clothes back on. I was dressed very similar to Alex, when I was dressed. White dress shirt, blue blazer, blue slacks, black belt, black dress shoes. That’s what my Master considered street clothes.

Jae, on the other hand, had a very different idea of street clothes for his property.

Caden came out of the bedroom wearing see through black underwear and black women’s flats. other than that, not a thing had changed. Jae was making him leave the house practically naked for the waist down wearing a maid outfit.

Jae laughed openly when he saw Caden, but Alex just smirked with amusement and shook his head.

The ride to the gallery was short. When we got there, I realized it was basically just a warehouse. We walked in the door and Alex and Jae handed invitations to a white slave at the door who was wearing a collar and had something on his dick I didn’t recognize. It looked like leather that was a little damp, wrapped around it and tired, with a second part tying his balls so they were forced to be stretched so low they had to hurt. I was perplexed by how incredibly warm it was until I looked up and saw a heater like one restaurants put on patios hanging from the ceiling.

As we walked past the slave to a hallway lined with lockers, Alex explained that the slave belonged to one of the club’s board members and that the leather was soaked in water before it was put on him, tied so tight that he couldn’t get flaccid, and that the heat from the heater would slowly throughout the night the leather would dry and constrict and it would be slow torture for the slave.

In the hallway another slave, this one a cute, light skinned black boy, was wearing a mouth gag, an anal gaper and a cock cage with weights tied around his balls.

“Guess the owners of the slaves working the event don’t have to abide by the rule of two accessories only,” Jae said with a laugh.

I was beginning to notice that Jae was easily amused, especially by the humiliation and pain of others but that even aside from that he had a very jovial personality that belied the sadist within.

The black slave stopped us and, because he was gagged and couldn’t talk, just motioned to me and Caden and to the lockers. Alex guided me to one with a key in it, opened it and looked at me.

“Strip,” he told me. 

Suddenly the realization hit me. I was about to walk into an art gallery full of men, completely naked but for the cage protecting me from being distracted from my duties as a slave and devotee to Alex by my dick. I’d been seen naked by four people: Alex, Armando, Yuto and the owner of the gym. Now, judging by the number of lockers already taken, I would be nude in front of at least 100 people, counting slaves if each master only brought one. At a fucking art gallery.

I was trembling but I didn’t dare refuse or hesitate. Thinking back to the punishment I received for hesitating when Alex ordered me to walk through the apartment building to the car without clothing, I did my best to speed up the removal of my suit.

Alex saw the physical manifestation of my fear as I put my shirt on a hanger in the locker and put a strong hand on my bare shoulder. He didn’t say anything but smiled reassuringly. 

When i finished stripping and closed the locker, he took the key out and stowed it in one of the inner pockets on his blazer and put both hands on my shoulders.

“You’re a gorgeous slave,” he told me. “Absolutely beautiful. I’m being dead honest when I tell you I’ve never seen a slut, bitch, whore, fag or cumdumpster that was as beautiful as you, baby. So be calm. Be comfortable. You’re going to make the other owners jealous and the fact that you obeyed me without any protest has already made me proud.”

His words didn’t heal me of my terror but they did reduce it to simple fear. I had to remind myself over and over that I do not belong to myself. I belong to Alex Hwang-Tanaka. I am his slave. I worship him. He has every right to do what he wants with me or to me and I, an inferior white slut, have no right to refuse.

Satisfied that I had calmed down enough, Alex put his right hand on my left shoulder and guided me down the hallway. We walked through double doors and into the gallery that was so insanely different than anything I would have ever imagined.

The art pieces weren’t paintings or sculptures or photos. They were twinks, twunks and hunks out on display in varying poses or situations. 

Hanging from ropes and wires and chains, rightside up or upside down. Tied to a transparent Saint Peter’s cross, bound to a sex saddle, tied with hands straight up above their head to a wall, and even one hanging from the ceiling by hooks piercing his skin.

Nine were white, about 17 were latino, two were black (one very light skinned, one very dark skinned, both posed next to each other), three appeared to be middle eastern, three were Asian and two were racially ambiguous.

“I can’t believe they still allow Asian entries,” Jae said.

“If an Asian wants to submit to someone they have every right,” Alex responded with humor in his voice.

“Nah,” Jae retorted. “We’re superior to every other race. Our kind shouldn’t be slaves.”

Alex shrugged.

“That’s true, which is why if an Asian wants someone else to dominate him, that other person should do it,” Alex said. “It’s our right as Asian to be dominated if that’s what we want.”

Alex must have convinced Jae because he grunted his understanding. I guess Alex was still his mentor.

The shock of the exhibits made me forget my fear until yet another slave, this one a middle eastern twunk, walked up to us and bowed to my Master and Jae.

“Sirs, how would you like your property marked?” the slave asked.

“Free game,” Jae answered. “No limits.”

The middle eastern slave took a black wristband and attached it to Caden’s wrist.

“Ask before touching,” Alex said. The kindness he had in his voice when talking to me or even Armando, Yuto and Elliot was gone. I immediately registered that his “slaves aren’t people, they’re property” philosophy didn’t translate completely to his submissives. This cold tone of voice he used with the middle easterner must be a truer representation of how he views slaves.

The twink took a blue wristband and attached it to my wrist, then bowed to the masters again before leaving to go stand in a corner next to a table with seven colors of wristbands.

Still taking in the scene before us, I finally noticed the gallery attendees. Slaves were mostly staying close to their owners. One black hunk in a dick cage and wrist and ankle cuffs linked together by a chain was on his knees blowing his Asian owner while the man fondled the considerably sized dick of the light skinned black slave. Or, I should probably think of him, the light skinned black piece, since he was tonight an art piece. 

Aside from that owner, all the masters had their cocks in their pants. A little more than half were Asian and the rest Latino. This really was an race-exclusive club when it came to the masters. But I saw a good number of Latino and Asian slaves, too. Most were white or black. Almost all were twinks or twunks, but there were some hunks and a couple of chubs, too.

The masters ranged in just about every category from height to weight to age. Most were fit and between their mid-20s and late-50s, by my estimation. The masters were all dressed nicely compared to their naked slaves, more than half of whom were in chastity but not all.

As we stepped further into the room, Alex reached into his jacket and pulled out a collar and leash.

“Hold still,” he said, most of the kindness having returned to his voice.

He put the collar on me and wrapped the leash once around his right hand.

“Come,” he ordered, leading me through the crowd of people.