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The Meeting - A dadfag story for Monstercawk

The Meeting. 

I immediately saw him when I stepped into baggage claim. Very tall, dark and handsome. He was 30 years old and built lean and strong. Dark hair and features, he looked like a young movie star.  The Alpha saw me too and started grinning ear to ear as I walked out. I could see in his eyes I was his for the weekend.  I looked him up and down and did a quick scan of his body, suddenly focusing on his crotch. Holy shit he wasn’t joking. He was “commando” in tight workout shorts that showed off his legs but more so showed off his massive manhood. The Alpha had a log in his shorts and I could see it start to stiffen. 

The Alpha turned away and started walking to the car, never saying “Hi or how was your flight?”  I followed him staring at his ass, unable to comprehend what I had gotten myself into..  We got into his car and started driving. I could see out of the corner of my eye his bulge had gotten considerably bigger since the airport and there was a small precum spot growing on his shorts. His cock was a monster!  He had this shit eating grin on his face as he faced forward and said out of the blue, “Which bank do u use”?  I looked up confused from my phone and knew this was how it started.  “BOA, Sir” I said.  “Look up the nearest one fag” he said. My cock jumped at the statement but struggled to get erect in my newly locked cock cage. “It’s .075 miles Sir”.

The Alpha pulled onto a side street 5 minutes later and I could see a BOA drive up machine through the trees. My mind started racing; How much do I have? How much can he pull out? What am I doing? As he’s getting out of the car and starts walking to the machine I hear him say “follow me fag”.  I get out of the car and turn to find him standing under a tree. His silhouette is perfect. Tall long legs, big hands and a massive bulge that I can’t stop staring at.  The Alpha looks at me and smiles. He reaches into his shorts and pulls out the most massive fat cock and balls I’ve ever seen. He just lets it drop in front of his legs and it bounces, begging to be sucked. “Here’s the deal” he says. “You’re going to bow down in front of that ATM facing me. I am going to walk up to you, slide my cock in your mouth and it’s going to stay in your mouth until I say so. Understand fag”? I nod slowly, terrified by what I’ve gotten myself into. “Now get over there and kneel fag”.  I slowly walk over to the ATM. It’s got so many lights; Security lights, cameras, everyone can see. Fortunately it’s 1AMm so no one is out but still! “What if someone sees”, I keep thinking. 

For what seems like an eternity I get to the machine and turn.  The Alpha just stands there grinning, huge cock sticking straight out of his shorts.  He walks towards me and I really realize how tall he is.  This dude is easily 6’4” and his cock is the exact height of my mouth.  His shadow grows as he gets closer and his cock is suddenly right in front of my face. All I see is his dick coming towards me. He grabs the base of his shaft and slowly slides it in. It pushes past my lips and rests on my tongue. It is huge. So fat, my lips are spread wide and it almost cuts off my oxygen. “Gimme your ATM card fag” he says.  I struggle to get out my wallet.  I hand him the card, his cock slides into my mouth more. “Text me the pin fag” My hands are shaking, eyes are watering and chest is racing as I try and focus on my phone, texting the numbers  The Alpha chuckles when his phone chimes and I hear him say to himself “easy money” as he starts entering my pin number.  I’m now fully aware I am bowing in front of a huge Alpha,  his massive cock in my mouth as he is withdrawing what is now his cash from my bank account. His cock begins to stiffen as the machine starts kicking out the bills. 100, 200, 300, 400, 500 dollars spits out, all in 20’s. His cock slides in even more pushin my head back into the machine. I’m trapped.  I can hear the Alpha slowly counting the cash when I look up, mouth full of his manhood.  “Don’t look at me fag unless I say so”, pushing my head hard into the ATM with his cock and hips.  I just sit there frozen in time with his huge cock in my mouth when he slowly starts pumping. With each thrust of his hips he goes deeper and gets harder. As he counts the wad of bills he gets more aggressive, holding my head with one hand and his wad of cash with another. He starts to fuck my face, pushing his massive fat cock deeper into my throat and making me gag, my eyes bulge and water and I struggle with his size.  And then it happens. His cock seems to get even thicker as he screams and pushes his dick deep into my throat, cutting off all air. Huge squirts of cum flood my mouth and throat. I can’t breathe, I can’t swallow, I feel like I’m drowning as his cum load keeps pouring from his cock, down my throat. It seems to go on forever, pulse after pulse. Thrust after thrust till my gut is full of his seed.  His full weight is on me as he finally shivers and sighs heavily,  his thick hard cock slowly starts to soften in my mouth. I’m relieved as I think this is all over. He’s going to pull out now and let me up.  “I told you don’t take my cock out of your mouth until I say so fag”.  He looks down at me and gives me a playful slap on the face and then relaxes. I feel both of his huge hands grasp my head on both sides, holding me into place. Suddenly he closes his eyes and moans. I taste his piss. At first it was a small trickle down my throat, something I could handle but then immediately without warning a huge flood of warm piss fills my mouth and I’m drowning again.  I try to swallow it but there’s so much. The piss starts to flood out of my mouth and all over the ground.  The Alpha is laughing now as he pulls back and starts pissing all over me. My head, my face, my shirt, my shoes, it’s all soaked and covered in his piss. He pisses on me for over 30 seconds, the type of piss load after a full pitcher of beer. I’m soaked. The Alpha just stands there and looks at his slave, cock dripping, hanging out of his shorts with a big grin on his face. He grabs is dick and shakes it off on me before sliding it back into his shorts. A bulge again that demands to be stared at. 

“Theres a plastic bag and a plastic sheet in the trunk fag. Strip naked, put your piss soaked shit in the bag and sit on the sheet for the ride home.  I’ll sneak you up the back, he says.  I just sit there in a pool of piss, dejected and wet.  I get up and follow the Alpha back to the car, dripping piss down my legs and all over the cement. I  strip naked in front of him. He smiles as he sees my cock cage and how small my dick is. “Easy to hide such a small fag clit in there huh slave. Not anything like my monstercock” as he grabs is dick and squeezes it hard. “Your cunt is gonna gaped tonight, slave. Full of my cum and piss. You may or may not like it. Either way, I don’t care.” “Yes sir” I replied as I draped the sheet in the back. “Hold on, I got something else for you” as the Alpha digs in the trunk.  He pulls out a large piece of rope.  “Put your hands out faggot” as he walks over to me and starts tying the ropes around my wrists. “You’re mine now slave”, he growls. He bends down and looks me deep in my eyes. “I own you and we will do this every night until that bank account is empty and what is yours is mine”  I looked up to him, tiny cock caged, hands tied and marked by his piss. “Yes Sir, it’s all yours Sir” I reply as he shoves me into his back seat and closes the door. 

MASTER DIESEL Introduction

The weather is dull, my house has never been so clean or organised and another Monday in Lockdown, so I thought I would be productive and do an introduction to myself on Owned Fags. So, let’s start how would I describe myself in a few words? Well an Old Guard Leather Master, Dominant, strict but fair, Confident in knowing who I am and what I want and expect in every aspect of MY life. I have always been into wearing leather from being a teenager. Financial Domination started for me at school being in a gang of lads picking out the weak loners and cornering them and emptying their pockets and enjoying spending their money at the corner shop. I have always worked and have a long successful career, so be clear findom is not about making quick cash or easy money! I have been draining and using fags for over 20 years. I enjoy the control, obedience and getting inside fags and slaves heads and getting them onto the path of service to work hard, to earn good money, to then hand it over to ME, giving them satisfaction, fulfilment and purpose to want to do it all over again knowing you are pleasing ME. Getting that cash large or small is as horny as fuck to me watching the figure going up and spending MY money on what I want when I want.

As part of this domination is a huge part of this for me, Boot worship soles treads, heal shaft the whole boot fags, Leather worship, Oral pleasure ready for a deep throat fucking love to hear a fag gagging on my pierced thick cock, Ash use fags with open mouths ready to take my thick hot ash is not a choice is a requirement if any fags are near me while smoking MY gars, smoke abuse nothing better than seeing a fag in my gas mask in tight bondage, fuelling the fags lungs with MY thick heavy gar smoke from MY 8x80 Asylums through the gas mask tube, strict Corporal Punishment for MY pleasure not just when a fag disobeys or disrespectful, Domestic service why should I clean MY house when I can get a fag to do such mundane tasks in life. Poppering a fag slave up makes them weaker to be used and drained for MY gain and pleasure.

So, Fags PM me or approach me in the chat room and let’s show you your rightful place in life.


November Update
Can't believe it's already November!  This has definitely been a busy season.  Bur not really from My online interactions.

I'm typing this note from a shiny new MacBook being funded by a terrific cashsub.  he's become very special to Me and I treasure his service.  he knows who he is and I'll just say that he is yang to My yin in this unique and interesting scene we find O/ourselves in.

I've never been one of those people Who lives on Twitter or Facebook or any social media.  I browse, find things to "like" and make occasional comments, but I'm not driven by a need to post often.  My blogging history here is definitely an example of that!  LOL.  But this is where W/we all meet and get to know each other,  And the people who do the hard work to put up and maintain a site like this- they deserve a lot of credit, because their work allows U/us to have a place to interact.  Or not, if a Master isn't your cup of tea.  I'm quite content interacting with fewer cash subs who are more My style anyway. 

So here's to a good month ahead and to a lot of great interactions with those W/who resonate!

How to Grow in Submission: Saving, Earning, Selling, Sending.

by DorianTheAlpha

Now, I will preface in saying this is My opinion, though one I know it is shared across hundreds of Superiors. That said, you may well find a Master that views submission differently than I describe here. If so, I weep for you because you'll never know the bliss of true sacrifice to serve your Master's pleasure.

Let's begin by listing off the excuses so many pretenders enjoy bleating to Masters Who've heard these tired lines a thousand times before:

- i am student/jobless right now, but i can serve You in other ways.

- i want to send to You, but i need to trust You first.

- i might be open to sending, but financial domination is not My primrary kink.

- i was mistreated by a previous Alpha, i need to recover before i can worship You.

- i have no money to send, but i can be Your promo/task slave.

If this is you: you are the worst kind of wasted space in findom and kink as a whole. These aren't reasons; they're excuses. Do better. Redefine yourself to serve His pleasure first and solely.

There are countless others, equally transparent, equally boring, equally self-branding "block me: i'm a waste of time".

This article is meant as instruction, and as motivation. Like all habits, starting with a few easy steps will lead to  undertaking the harder ones. In time, you can be the best slave you can be by incorporating all of these and more. Internalize the spirit of these habits to truly devote the entirety of yourself to your Master.

1. Work harder, smarter, longer. 

Secure a raise or bonus? That portion goes to your Master. Great night of tips? Those are Alpha's. Win a payout, lottery, jackpot, raffle, contest? Guess whose: your Owner, silly pet. Get a second job, or third, gigging: Uber, tutoring. Suck cock if you can get paid for guzzling cum in your Master's name. Be creative, and proactive.

2. Cut back on luxuries and indulgences. 

Don't buy meals out. Meal prep, and make that coffee/tea at home. Skip the steak, and eat chicken or beans. Fast intermittently if your health allows it. Drink less, or not at all. Only Alpha Men consume fine spirits; you get hooch if anything. Forget about tobacco, weed, parties: they are revelries for Superior Males. Designer labels, latest tech, new toys of any kind... these have no place in a cash slave's world.

3. Simplify your lifestyle.

Forget the Uber: walk, bike or commute. Don't bother with a flagship smartphone when a budget model will do. Take cold showers and reduce your heating/AC to send your Master those savings. Workout? Cancel that gym membership, and go train outside. Sell your appliances and wash your dishes and/or clothes by hand. Which leads Me too...

4. Sell your valuables.

Collectibles: magazines, comic books, video games, watches, vintage items, etc. Jewelry, needless gadgets, vehicles, sex toys (looking at you sissies). Anything you are guilty of from #2, sell — that's a simple starting point. What feels more right: you owning $1,000+ of superficial goods you could do without, or placing that cash into your Master's powerful hands, where it belongs?

I have likely missed ideas here. What matters is starting small, being accountable to improve through sacrifice, communicating your commitments to your Master, and most or all: sending as soon as you have cash to do so. The longer your Master's money stays with you, the lazier you are being, slave.

Read, act, send. Or pretend that you are already doing "enough" for your Alpha, as if that is even possible.

We always deserve more...

Domination, Exclusive Consideration, and Ownership
By DorianTheAlpha

There are several slaves here, if not most, that serve as community fags. They are not beholden to any one Master, by their own choice. It is one of the few choices a little cash piggy has, and I as well as all Masters should respect that, in order for this findom community to properly thrive.


When a Master and a slave interact for a single interaction, whether one tip, a session, or a series of tips and sessions, there is a temporary domination that occurs. This does not change the fact that there will always and permanently be Superior Alpha men and pathetic beta bitch boy cashslaves. That is eternal, and true. However, a cash slave can choose to serve multiple Alphas, at their own leisure, so long as they obey the Dominant/slave dynamic that is drives their sole purpose: to serve at the pleasure of Alpha Men.

UC (Under Consideration)

Now, some slaves are competitive, both within themselves and others. When channeled properly, this can be deeply constructive for both their submission and (more importantly) their Master's pleasure. When left to run rampant, it is toxic, destructive, and often leaves the slave blocked and wayward because of their own selfish jealousy. The best cash faggots will be "considered" by their Alpha Masters: a period wherein they serve their Cashmaster exclusively, though not yet owned. Ownership, a cashslave foremost reward beside their Master's pleasure & approval, is a beacon of exemplary servitude: you are a sufficiently excellent cash dispenser that your Masters sees it fit to brand you as public His. The summit of submission & servitude for a mindless ATM. 


As eluded to above, this is the pinnacle of what subs hope to achieve while worshipping at the altar of their Alpha Master's perfection. Do not conflate this ultimate reward with it being the pursuit of one's servitude: you serve to please your Master, exclusively and entirely. All else follows. Ownership rarely comes to those who actively seek it out; it is rather bestowed upon those truly selfless slaves that purely provide for their Master's every whim, setting aside their own kinks and orgasms for Master's slightest desire. True, beautiful, blissful submission to a Supremely Powerful Alpha Male.

Now, the reason for this distinction between the three is that too often there are those here who seek to poach, coax, or otherwise betray the fidelity good slaves show their Masters. I hope that this post can serve as a clarification for community cash whores, prospective pets, and wholly owned finfags. The latter two should not be sought out unless their Master has given you His explicit approval. The first... is fair game to use and abuse at your disposal. And oh how they are disposable.

Cheers to all. I hope this helps.

So I have been thinking about "transactional" FinDom relationships recently.  I've seen CashMasters who demand payment for views of their mega-muscled body (with raised middle finger, of course.) I've seen cashfags who are clearly only interested in those types of Masters.

And plenty of U/us out there are seeking in-person service, usually highly sexual, with some cash or gifts thrown in. 

Each one of U/us has something valued that creates a type of transaction in what W/we seek.  I'm not much interested in sexual fantasy or pics with cash thrown in.  In My perfect world, I have cash slaves who want/need the mentor/advice-giver type.  My transactional interest is in being a sounding board.   I love receiving tips/tributes, after those convos, especially when it just "happens."  Nothing better than awaking to new tips. 

Transactions.  We all have something.

A fag’s Berlin: New Action
This post is the final part of a 5 part series.    

The last night of Folsom EU, a few of SIR DCCashMaster's friends are going to a leather bar and He decides we’ll join them. My outfit is simple - boots, knee pads, a leather jock and bicep straps. I’m feeling very exposed and SIR lets me wear a t-shirt and sweatpants over the top for the walk down to the bar.

Before we leave, He lays out a lot of toys on the bed. He tells me that I am to pick two things from the collection, and He will use them on me tonight. Thankfully, He doesn’t rush me, and seems to enjoy watching me think through different scenarios and how this might play out.

There’s a gag that would lock my mouth open. I consider the idea, especially as I’ve been working on my gag reflex recently, but eventually decide against it. The nipple clamps are also tempting, but I’m not sure how long I’d be able to keep them on for before they started to really hurt.  

Eventually I settle on a leather paddle - The Enforcer SIR brought with him from Mr. S Leather - and a gag in the shape of a dog bone. I figure if I’m going to be beaten it might be good to have something to bite down on!

Separate from this selection, there’s a flogger hanging from SIR’s belt - a beautiful leather one with the soft side of each tail dyed a rich blue. I’ve always loved floggers, so I’m glad that’s coming with us no matter what, but sadly there probably won’t be enough room to use it in a bar.

We set off for the bar and meet up with some of SIR’s friends on the way. He tells them about how He told me to pick the toys and shows the gag to them by fixing it into my mouth. We walk most of the rest of the way to the bar with me unable to speak and quietly trying not to drool too much. When we reach the bar, SIR has me remove the gag, the t-shirt and the sweatpants outside, making sure I am seen in my skimpy outfit by a couple of passers by before we go in. Thankfully Berlin is full of guys in fetish gear during the festival, and the people who see me barely bat an eyelid, but it’s still a bit scary.

Inside, SIR sends me to the bar for drinks, handing me some of the money I brought with me, that He’s been looking after since I have no pockets. Obviously I’m buying tonight. When I get back, he motions to the floor and I kneel next to Him and put an arm around His leg while He chats. After a while His friends go to explore the darkroom, and He points me to a corner near the back of the bar, where another Dom that we spoke to at a different bar earlier in the day is sitting.

There’s some banked seating in this corner, and the Dom is sitting on top at the back, resplendent in a full leather uniform. SIR orders me onto my hands and knees on the mid level, which puts my face about level with the Dom’s boots. With SIR standing on the floor behind me, my arse is at about hip height for Him. Perfect for flogging.

SIR and the Dom allow me to work the Dom’s boots with my tongue. The Dom presses his leather gloved hand into the back of my head, making more of my tongue against the leather of His boots. He leans down and explains what He wants. I’m not to miss any part, I’m not to whine and when I’m not cleaning His boots I’m to maintain eye contact at all times.

Meanwhile, SIR is stroking my arse with His hands, letting me feel the leather of His gloves, and letting me get used to my position. He starts to spank me very lightly with His hands, warming me up. At one of the slightly harder smacks I grunt and lose eye contact with the Dom - I get a stern look and a “no whining, boy”. I apologise and resolve to try harder.

SIR steps up the spanking and my arse starts to sting. I can feel the heat building now and each smack is an effort to take and stay focused.

After a while, SIR switches to the Enforcer. The Dom helps me through the first few strokes. When I take them well, I get a “good boy”, and when I start to break He reminds me of my instructions. The waves of pain start to build. I’ve never been pushed this hard before, but I’m determined to make SIR proud. He’s given me a way to signal to Him if I need Him to stop, but I’m resolved not to use it unless I’m truly desperate.

The beating continues. It’s getting loud, and the Dom tells me we’re drawing a crowd. I can’t see them because I’m facing into the corner, and I’m focused on the Dom’s boot, or His dick through the leather trousers, whatever He rewards me with when I take a hard hit without complaint.

SIR leans over and tells me I’m a good fag, that everyone in the bar is watching me take this beating. He’s clearly turned on, and that just makes me more resolved to take my reward as well as I can.

The strokes get harder and faster. Each time SIR pushes me to the point of breaking before easing off and letting me get my focus back. He tells me that to handle this I need to concentrate on something that isn’t my arse, something other than the pain, or I won’t get through it. I’ve never concentrated so hard in my life. My breathing, the weight of my body pressing down through my hands and knees, the Man in front of me, the Man behind me, the boots I’m licking or the eyes I’m staring into.

I talk myself through each of these in turn, cycling through each of them in turn, struggling to keep my vision focused, my breathing steady. I’ve lost track of time. Occasionally SIR or the Dom remind me of the audience we’ve attracted, but for me the rest of the world has fallen away. I don’t know who’s watching and I don’t care. All that matters is SIR, this Dom and my endurance.

I have no idea how long my punishment goes on for. It feels like it must be over an hour but my perception of time, like my perception of pain, has been bent totally out of shape by the experience. There is rhythm to it all though - SIR is a musician and varies the beat of the strokes like a master percussionist, building crescendo after crescendo of crashing, stinging, hot pain.

SIR switches to a different implement, a leather paddle belonging to the Dom, which has two separate leather straps that slap together on impact, making an even louder noise and attracting ever more attention. I’m grunting and growling, focussed, intense, determined to keep myself under control, to take it, to make SIR proud. SIR switches again. This time it’s a riding crop, the sting is incredible, heightened by the soreness, the heat in my skin, and the endorphin rush that’s overtaken me.

Eventually, He draws things to a close, gradually bringing me slightly closer to earth, although it will be a couple of hours before I really come down. SIR holds me, tells me how proud He is of me and it means so much to hear that. I’ve worked so hard for Him, and it’s so fulfilling to know that He’s pleased with my performance.

He strokes my cheeks and I flinch. I can feel the welts rising already, my skin feels hot and angry. I touch it delicately, exploring this new sensation. I’ve never been anywhere near this deep into physical punishment before, and there’s no-one else I would have wanted to take me there. I’m grateful to SIR for helping me explore, for giving me new experiences and helping me to push my limits.

SIR is not the only one pleased with my performance - several other Men approach us over the next hour, to say “bravo”, to compliment SIR on knowing how to beat a boy properly, to compliment me on how well I took it. They are all surprised that this was the first time I’ve really been beaten properly. I can’t help but feel my chest swell with pride. I feel like I’m floating, I’ve never felt like this before and it’s incredible.

Looking back, the rest of our time in the bar is blurry - I was on such an endorphin high that I think my memory partially shut down. I remember getting to suck some dick and kneeling, but that’s about it. My memory clicks back into gear around the time SIR decided we should head home.

On leaving the bar, SIR decided that I wasn’t going to be allowed to wear my casual clothes over my outfit. He reasoned that at 4am the streets would be pretty quiet, but I still felt more exposed than ever before walking home in almost nothing other than a jockstrap, hands behind my back, my wrists held by my MASTER. When we reached the hotel, we walked past the receptionist. She barely blinked, but I think by the last day of the festival she was probably nearly unshockable.

We got into the elevator and pressed the button. SIR’s room was on the top floor. As soon as the doors closed, He bent me over, pushed me up against one side of the elevator, pulled out His dick and sank it into my hole. I suppressed my panic and tried to concentrate on the movement of the elevator, to tell when it was about to arrive. SIR pulled out and zipped up just in time, although thankfully the corridor outside was empty when the doors swang back.

Before going to the room, SIR took me on a detour up a flight of stairs. There was a door out onto a small concrete area on the roof. We propped the door open with a plant pot and stepped outside. The air was chilly by this point, as the sun hadn’t started to come up yet. Briefly, I had a fairly spectacular view over Berlin by night, before SIR span me round to face the wall, and kicked my feet apart. I braced against the cold concrete and arched my back as I felt him line up behind me.

By this point my hole was loose and ready. Even with his PA, SIR’s dick slid all the way home in one thrust, filling me and reminding me of my purpose. He pulled back nearly all the way out before thrusting forward again. His fuck built into a rut and He pounded my arse. I could still feel the heat from the beating earlier every time his hips slammed into me. I tensed and massaged His dick as much as I could, pushing back into His thrusts.

Eventually, His hands gripping my shoulders for maximum purchase, SIR finally came in me, breeding me deeply. I held still as He came slowly down from His orgasm, squeezing my hole gently around His cock, buried deep inside. After His breathing had returned to normal, he gently slid out and we made our way back inside and down to His room.

Once there, we showered together, SIR gently lathering my bruises and me reverently washing His body. After we were dry, we fell into bed. SIR held me and we talked about everything that had happened that weekend. SIR told me again how proud He was of me and I beamed knowing I had been a good boy for Him. Eventually, we were both falling resting, and I knew SIR would be leaving for His flight early in the morning, so we let exhaustion overtake us and drifted off.

The following morning, SIR took this photo before He left for the airport.

After He left, I busied myself trying to fit all the gear He had given me into the suitcases I had brought. I finally figured out that if I wore the knee high patrol boots, and the leather trousers, that would make enough space for everything else, so that was what I wore for the flight home. As I made my way to the airport later in the afternoon, I thought back over the weekend. It was an incredible weekend, and I’m enormously grateful to SIR for giving me such an amazing experience. And I didn’t stop thinking about for a long time after I got home. Not least because it took four or five days before I stopped being reminded of the last  night, every time I sat down.

A fag's Berlin: Lab

This post is part 4 of a 5 part series.   

We spend the following day at the street fair. We drink, meet people, chat. A few people take photos. Lots of guys stop SIR, DCCashMaster, to compliment Him on His tattoos. We look in a few of the shops around the fair. After scratching up my knees pretty badly serving SIR at Full Fetish in London, I buy myself a pair of knee pads. At the checkout SIR takes my credit card from my wallet and nonchalantly demands the PIN. I give Him the number and He makes the transaction using his BLUF membership discount. I can’t help but feel extremely submissive watching my MASTER use my card to buy me such an unmistakably faggy item.

Around 6pm we grab some food and then head back to the hotel to start getting ready for the evening. SIR helps me pick out my outfit - combat boots, socks, rubber jock, a rubber vest, and my new collar, of course. SIR looks great in His outfit - it’s brand new and custom made rubber from Regulation in London. Rubber football pants with yellow trim and a large codpiece, and a matching top.

We arrive at Lab about 40 minutes before it opens, but the queue is already long. After a while it starts to move forward slowly, and after about two hours we finally get in. The place is huge. The main bar is a large, high-ceilinged room adorned with steampunk and mysterious mad scientist style contraptions. In other rooms there are slings, benches, cages, dark areas, concrete bunkers, urinals, glory holes and a room with a grate floor and a chamber underneath full of thirsty, rubbered up piss pigs.

The atmosphere builds as the place starts to fill up. I mention to SIR that I’ve never been fucked in a sling, and He changes that straight away. Feeling his chunky 2 gauge PA slip into my hole definitely helps push me into subspace. His dick filling me up feels great as He swings me back and forward, and soon I’m hungry for more.

He marches me into a large room with some tables made of wood and steel. He tells me to lie down on one on my back with my arse hanging over the end. The legs of the table continue up past its top, so there’s somewhere to brace my boots to really expose my hole. SIR tells me to close my eyes. It dawns on me that He’s not going to let me see the Men who will fuck me tonight. I’m so turned on.

SIR stands beside me, one hand fingering my hole, the other pressed onto my face, covering my eyes. After a few minutes, the fingering stops and I feel His stance shift as He leans to speak to a Man. I lie back and try to relax, wondering if this Man will want to use me.

After a short while that feels much longer to me, I feel the Man move between my legs and start to line up His dick with my hole. As he pushes the head in, thankfully fairly slowly, SIR leans down and speaks directly into my ear - “keep your eyes closed, fag”. He lifts his hand off my face and quickly replaces it with the sweaty rubber codpiece from his pants. He presses that to my nostrils as the unknown Man picks up the pace and starts driving hard into my fag hole. I’m clinging to the sides of the table, trying to keep the right angle. Trying hard to make SIR proud of His little slut.

I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually the Man using my hole slows down and pulls out. I can hear Him exchange a few words with SIR, but I can’t make them out. SIR checks in with me and tells me what a good fag I’m being. He rewards me with a quick lick of his armpit, which has got pretty sweaty now that we’re inside the hot club. He reminds me that I’m not allowed to open my eyes, and goes back to rimming and fingering my hole.

The cycle repeats. I’m so lost in subspace, focused on being a good hole, that I start to lose count of the Men that use me. It’s not always easy to tell whether a guy has taken a break, or whether another Man has taken His place, although sometimes the dicks are different enough that it’s clear.  

One guy in particular has what feels like a really meaty, thick dick. He uses me for what feels like an hour. Every time I think He’s going to cum or need a break, He just slows down and long dicks me before building the pace back up. After four or five of these cycles, I’m starting to get delirious. My moaning is load, my hands are starting to hurt from how tight I’m gripping the table to hold myself in place.

While He’s using me, SIR leans over me, His mouth next to my ear. He starts working my nipples and telling me exactly what I am, what I’ve allowed Him to make me. “Slut” - the word drops into my brain and a wave of pleasure washes over me. “Whore” - He’s getting deeper in my mind and dropping me ever further into subspace. “Bitch” - SIR knows exactly what to say, what to do, to break down all my resistance. “Pussy” - I’ve never been more turned on, embracing my desires and surrendering to these Men, to this Man. “Faggot” - I’m grunting, broken down, opened up, exposed, humiliated, reduced to nothing more than a hole, an object, a fuck toy. I’ve never been dominated and owned, more deeply, more totally than in this moment.

I’m still not allowed to look, and I’ve kept my eyes shut tight the whole time, but I allow myself to reach and touch the Man’s hands as they grip my thighs. I feel the hair on the back of His hands, the veins and muscles on His forearms, and I fantasise about what He looks like and what I look like getting fucked on my back by a procession of anonymous Men.

When this Man finally finishes, He speaks briefly to SIR as I lie back in ecstasy, trying to catch my breath and get hold of my thoughts. All I catch from their conversation is that the Man is from Paris. It’s killing me that I won’t know who He is or be able to identify Him later, but I have my orders.

At this point SIR can tell I need a break. After the Man has moved away from us, and out of sight, SIR helps me up and holds me while I gradually reconnect with the space around me. I follow Him to the bar and we get a drink before moving to a relatively quiet corner and slowly recovering.

After that I’m on a high for the rest of the night. SIR lets me go and play on my own for a while, which is great fun, but eventually I find my way back to Him. He fucks me a few more times and eventually we’re both exhausted and we head back to the hotel.

Let the holidays begin
So Thanksgiving has come and gone.  And now I'm OK seeing Christmas decorations in the stores.  Before Thanksgiving, I just ignored them as much as I could.  Now they reflect the season.  After all, one holiday at a time, right?

This is also a time of year when emotions can be exaggerated.  With everything else going on, the way a cashfag approaches, or how a Cash Master responds, and everything in between- all can trigger larger than usual responses.

W/we all must strive to be cognizant of this, and dedicated to be O/our true selves.  Do everything possible to be open and honest with others and Ourselves on our foundational principles.  

Not every conversation is going to result in drains and tributes, but a commitment to clarity and honesty can only help E/everyone to come closer to goals, whatever those might be.

Messages welcome from those who would like to discuss further.

A fag’s Berlin: BLUF gathering
This post is part 3 of a 5 part series.  

Later on Friday we go back to the hotel to get ready for the evening. We’re going to BLUF social gathering and it’s going to be my first time in full leather. SIR, DCCashMaster, puts me in the tall Dehner boots, the North Bound pants, the newly repaired braided belt and matching Sam Browne, and the Expectations shirt. I feel amazing, I can’t stop checking myself out in the mirror. I had thought it would be years before I would have this much gear and I’m over the moon to see myself in the kind of outfit I’ve wanted for years and years.

We walk down to the bar where the social is happening. It’s easy to spot - there are probably around a hundred men mostly standing around outside the bar, all in full leather uniforms (or as SIR calls it, “High Cow”). It’s such a horny scene for me. SIR introduces me to some of His friends that He knows from the leather scene in the states. It makes me beam with pride every time He introduces me as His boy. Such a simple thing but still so exciting.

I spend the evening chatting, getting to know some of SIR’s friends and some men that we’re both meeting for the first time. SIR is relaxed and easy going. He tells me not to worry about some of the protocol He’s taught me, like always standing to His left, I think He wants me to relax and really enjoy the evening.

I’m still on drinks duty, so I’m dispatched to the bar a few times to get more beers. After a few of those SIR needs to piss. He excuses Himself from the group and leads me to the bathroom at the back of the bar. There he motions towards His feet and I kneel before Him, my knees on His boots. He unzips and I open wide, taking his pierced dick into my mouth. A few seconds later the stream begins and I swallow as fast as I can, desperate not to spill anything. SIR is kind and pauses a couple of times when I’m not quite keeping up.

SIR has had several beers by this point, so this goes on for quite a while, and I’m alternating between concentrating on swallowing and looking up to see Him above me, watching me take His piss.

Eventually the stream slows and stops. SIR motions for me to get up, spins me around, pulls my jeans down around my thighs, spits on my hole and slowly eases His dick in. I’m leaning over the toilet bowl, hands on the back wall, pushing my fag hole back on His dick and it feels amazing to be used like this. He doesn’t fuck me for long - I think this is more of a reward for me than to satisfy His need to fuck. Teasing me, He pulls out slowly and zips up. I pull my leather pants back up and He leads me back outside.

Later, when the social is winding down, SIR takes me back to the main street of Folsom and we go into Prinzknecht. We get a couple more drinks and find a spot in the corner at the front, next to some floor to ceiling windows. We meet an Italian guy, also in leather and get chatting to him. SIR decides to show me off, and has me unzip my jeans and gives me a glass to piss in. The bar is quite crowded, so I’m not that visible, but I still feel very conspicuous when I’m down and He tells me to drink it. I chug it slowly, my stomach is getting full by this point and it’s work to drink it down. When I’ve finished SIR turns me towards the window and starts slapping my exposed balls. It’s not long before we have a small audience outside, watching me grimace and tense as He starts to squeeze and punish my balls. It’s so humiliating being watched by strangers through the glass, but it’s so horny at the same time.

The experience gets SIR horny too and He leads me downstairs to the darkroom. He wastes no time, pushing me against a wall, pulling my leather pants down again and making his dick into my fag hole. After fucking me in that position for about ten minutes, he moves me into the middle of the room and fucks me over a table. Another boy is getting fucked over the other end of the table and we make eye contact as we feel our Men’s dicks thrust into our respective holes. I moan and push back, squeezing SIR’s dick, concentrating on His pleasure and He thrusts harder.

Once SIR is done fucking me, He leads me back upstairs. We say goodnight to the Italian and go back to the hotel. SIR has me help Him undress. Even kneeling in front of Him to help take His boots off is a turn-on by now. Once undressed, we shower and He washes my body. It’s very intimate, and I feel a bit like a well cared for toy being cleaned and put away after use. We dry off and fall resting in His bed. It’s been a great night, but there’s more to come the next day.