Sam's Suffering

I was awoken early in the morning by Sir to find myself back in bondage. Spread eagle to the bed. 

“Morning, Slave. Work today. I’ll drop you off, but while I still have reign over you, I wanted to fill your ass with cum one last time.”

“Yes Sirrmmph.” Sir stuffed my ball gag into my mouth got me into position and fucked me hard for a good half an hour. I was tired of sex at this point, but my Sir’s desires matter more than my own. He pounded my chest and abs as he enjoyed my body before finally cumming.

“That ought to do it.” Sir stuffed my cum-filled cunt with the vibrating plug Master Brad gifted me with. “You’re wearing that to work, Slave. Shower up.”

I took a shower, scrubbing particularly hard now. My body reeked of B.O and man funk. My body was so abused and raped that it signaled back to me what I am. A whore. I did the best I could.

Outside, I changed into my jockstrap when I realized. “Fuck what can I wear?”

“Yes, Slave?” Sir Brandon inquired.

“Sir, I have to abide by a dress code at my job. Suit, always. I dunno if I can buy a new suit beforehand.”

“Ah, boy. You do have a suit.” Master stood aside. On the bed was a suit, just in my measurements. Pants, button up shirt, tie, jacket, belt, boots. All made out of shiny black leather.

“Sir. I don’t think that’s gonna fly.” 

Slave, your Masters had this made for you. They specifically directed that I send you to work dressed this way. You are a kinkster, a slave, a whore, an exhibitionist. The world must know what you are. You have nothing to hide.

I trembled. I was prepared to be seen as a gay sex slave online, primarily by men who I don’t have to speak to. Hell, my ball gag helps with that. But this was another step entirely.

“Sir, is there any other option?”

“This isn’t my choice. It’s your Masters, and as you said, you’re going to be late if you don’t hurry.”

I breathe deeply, considering.

“Now, faggot!” Sir spanks me hard, shoving me towards my suit. It is a beautiful garment. The leather is incredibly soft, color deep. The smell is absolutely magical. I get hard sliding it on. Everything fits beautifully, albeit stiff. That new leathers feeling. It creaks loudly as I walk in it.

“Yeah, boy. Fucking gorgeous.” Sir Brandon sticks his tongue down my throat, gripping my crotch, squeezing firmly. “I’m buying you again soon, dressed in this. Your Masters must really treasure you to spend the money these leathers cost.”

“Look forward to it, Sir.” I check myself in the mirror. Hate to say toot myself, but damn. I make a sexy leatherman.

 

I walk through those double doors with all the confidence I can fake. The receptionist stops me.

“Uh, excuse me. This isn’t some motor convention can I hel–”

I look up at her. 

“Oh. Sam. This is…new.” She giggles. She appears even a little, turned on?

“Yeah. Sorry, Laura. Had a bad laundry mishap. Only clothes I have are my Mad Max costume.

She giggles. “Well…looks good.”  She buzzes me in.

I move past all the cubicles on my way to my office. I catch all the eyes. Some people laugh. Others just stare. A few idiots call me names. Queer. Faggot. Etc. Some leave. I do my best to ignore them.

At my office, the glass windows don’t grant me much privacy. Al throughout the day, people turn around to look at me. Take a long time to pass my office. It bothers me at first, but I also start to feel empowered. Sexy. Authentically myself.

Day goes well. Until around three that is.

BRRRRR.

“Ugh, fuck.” There it is. Master fucks with me. Wherever he is. The pulsing in my ass is strong, but not as strong as it can get. At random intervals, Master changes the settings. The toy spins, pokes, extends and shrinks, fucking and tormenting me. I struggle to work. He does this the entire rest of the day. My eyes roll back, my cock pitches a tent in my pants. “MMMM fuck, Master. I can’t work like this!” I mumble to myself.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Fuck. My colleague walks into my office. Jamie. Tall, football type. Homophobic. Or at least his jokes are. He’s super sexy and he enjoys me. But he doesn’t know I’m gay. Maybe the leathers will give it away.

“Dude, Sam. Everyone’s been saying–” He looks me up and down in my chair. I’m bent over, wretching. My balls are tight and close. I’m breathing heavy. This timing is awful. “Dude, what the fuck are you wearing? Stand up.”

“Not right now, Jamie.” I lean back, grabbing my stomach.

“Nah man, get up!” He grabs my forearm and lifts me up. He looks me up and down. “ You some kind of fruit? You look like one.” He peels my leather jacket to theside to see the rest of my suit. “You’re dressed like those faggots that get their asses railed every weekend over by the Castro. Is that what you do?”

The rumbling gets incredibly intense. “Jamie, please drop this.”

SLAP. He smacks my cheek backhandedly. “Nah. This makes me uncomfortable. Having a queer dressed like this in my workplace. You’re disgusting.”

He leaves, slamming the door just in time. I am disgusting. I blow my load in my pants. I try to hide it as best I can as people watch. Jamie created even more of a scene and I’ve made quite the mess. I pull some tissues and rags from my desk and try to discreetly sop up my load. It dripped down my leg and into my left boot. I clean that up too when I’m called into my bosses office.

Long story short, I was fired. They considered my mode of dress to be pornographic. I’m ashamed.  I walk outside to find Master Brad waiting for me in his car, a grin on his face. 

“How’d it go, Tom of Finland?” He leans in to kiss me.

 “I came, Master. I am sorry”

“Well you’ll pay for it, as you know.”

“I was also fired.” Tears drip down my face.

“What? How?” Master holds my neck and rubs my tum down to my crotch and back up again.

“Office didn’t appreciate my clothes. Said it was pornographic.”

“In this town? There’s a homo in every other car. I’m sorry, boy.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t like this job much anyway. Just hurts to lose a job like this. I felt free. Real. In my leathers.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that, boy.  You won’t hurt for money. We’ll just sell that sexy body of yours full time. How’s that sound?

I harden. Master’s hand feels it. He grins. 

“Hot boy. Well let’s get you home and punish you for your failure.”

“Of course, Master.”

“We will make a film tonight. However, there is something you should know, Slave.”

I lean in. “Yes, Master?”

“Best if you see it for yourself.”

We drive home. I anxiously ponder what Master means. What is awaiting at home for me?