Male Slave for Rent

"We've come up with the most perfect birthday gift for you, Sylvie," my friend Irma said. "We saw it advertised in a magazine. Don't open it till you get home." She handed me an envelope. A gift certificate, evidently.

I opened the envelope when I got back to my apartment. It was a gift certificate, sort of. "Your friend's subscription entitles you to the services of one genuine slave for twelve hours, commencing seven a.m. July 29th. He is charged with doing whatsoever you command him to do, barring illegal acts or acts that will hurt himself or you or anyone else."

Great idea, I thought. Irma knows what a rotten housekeeper I am. Another piece of paper fell out of the envelope. It was a note from Irma. "Make the most of him," it said. "You've only got him for twelve hours. And by the way, this was advertised in a porno magazine, so don't waste his time washing dishes."

My cunt suddenly clenched inside my panties. A sex slave! Is that what it meant? I could sure do with one. My life had been devoid of fucking for far too long. A sex slave could be made to do all sorts of far-out intimate things an ordinary boy-friend might be too shy for. Anyway, I was between boy-friends. But surely, sex slaves were just things in our fantasies? No man was going to put himself in the hands of a strange woman and perform whatever disgusting, perverted sexual acts she demanded.

I went to bed thinking about what disgusting, perverted sexual acts I'd want my slave to do. I got so horny I had to get my vibrator to keep me company. Masturbation was great---heaven, in fact---but it would have been so much better if it was a man doing it to me. What would a sex slave be like, doing whatever my perverted, sex starved body demanded?

I was wakened next morning by the door chimes. I looked at the clock. Seven o'clock. My heart skipped. Could this be Him? My cunt began to do strange things in anticipation of the orgy that might lie ahead.

I always slept in the nude. It felt so much more sexy, and I could get at myself more easily when I felt like playing with myself, which was quite often. I didn't bother to put on a robe. If this was really Him, then I'd see what sort of reaction I got. I looked through the peep-hole in the door. It was a man, but what else did I expect? A sign saying "Sex slave"?

I'd never before opened the door to a stranger and stood there stark naked, flashing my tits at him and inviting him in. I would have liked to, but I never had the balls. I screwed up my courage, and opened the door.

"Sylvia?" the man asked, looking at me appreciatively. "I'm to be your slave for the day. May I come in?"

May he? I felt like grabbing him and hauling him inside. he looked so good. About twenty five, my age. Blond, nice smile, crinkly green eyes. Taller than me. And built! I couldn't wait to see just how built! Instinctively, I looked down at his crotch. There was a bulge in his pants that was far more protrusive than most men showed. Perhaps the sight of my naked body was already giving him a cock-stand. I hoped so. A girl likes to be appreciated.

He came in, and put down his small suit-case. "It's to be my pleasure to do your bidding," he said, smiling and looking me over with no sign of embarrassment at having a strange woman standing in front of him with cunt-juice already wetting her thighs. "What is your pleasure, Mistress?"

"Fucking," I said quickly. "I hope it's yours, too."

"My pleasure is to pleasure my Mistress," he said. "Your command?"

Suddenly faced with the reality, I couldn't think of any of the wonderful sexy ideas I'd had as I frigged myself in bed the night before. But one thing I did know, I wanted to see what made that bulge in his pants.

"First off," I said, "let's get you dressed more appropriately for a slave. Strip off. Everything. I want you balls naked."

"Your wish is my command, Mistress," he said, and began to unbutton his shirt. That settled it. He wasn't there just to vacuum the carpet.

I changed my mind. "No. I think I'm going to strip you myself." I loved the idea of peeling a man. I'd never actually done it. I was sure I'd cream myself the moment his prick came into view. I finished undoing the buttons, and opened his shirt. It was a lovely chest, broad, suntanned, hairy enough to be macho but not too matted. I wanted to suck his nipples, but there were other pleasures in store. I pulled the shirt off his arms, and got on my knees to work on his belt. Then his zipper, and I was able to pull his pants down to his feet. He stepped out of them, and this gorgeous hunk was naked except for a pair of skimpy white briefs that were little more than a jock strap. The bulge was still there, level with my eyes, forcing out the crotch of his briefs at the base of a nicely trim belly.

I couldn't wait to see what goodies were inside there. I took the waist band in both hands, and slowly peeled it down his belly. First a mass of curly blond bush came in sight. Then, as I eased it over the cheeks of his ass and down to his thighs, a jumble of genitalia that had been for too long tightly confined poured out. There was so much of it. First his tumescent prick sprang up. It stood out from the bottom of his belly, pointing slightly upward, the knob at the end wonderfully swollen and redder that the dark pink shaft.

I love to look at a cock, but a man's balls in their silky bag are the most vulnerable part of him, and I couldn't resist reaching out to cup that soft handful. Usually in the warmth of the bedroom the scrotums I've been able to hold have been relaxed, dangling loosely between the men's thighs. But my slave had just come in from the cold, and his balls were held close up against his crotch inside a tightly shrunk bag that I could hold easily in one hand. It felt hard and firm, matching the firmness of the prick that reached out so aggressively toward my mouth.

I got reluctantly to my feet. "I need a shower," I said. "Better still, a bath. You can bathe me." My slave went into the bathroom to turn on the water.

My hands went down of their own accord to my pussy. My twat was on fire inside. I'd never thought just the sight of a prick could affect me this way. Possibly it was the subconscious knowledge that it was all mine for the day. I owned it. Or at least I was renting it. Renting a prick! What a great idea! One finger found my clit and rubbed it round and round. Another opened my salivating cunt lips and slid inside. Nothing like as good as a man's fingers, but they could come later.

All sorts of exciting ideas were beginning to flood back into my mind, and I leaned back against the wall frigging myself while I thought about the day to come.

I was still dreamily masturbating my twat with both hands when the bathroom door opened and my slave was beside me. "Your bath is ready, Mistress," he said, his expression unchanging as he saw me guiltily snatch my hands away from my crotch. I know I blushed clear down to my tits. I'll have a lot more to blush at before the day's out, I thought, and went into the bathroom and stepped into the bath.

"If Mistress would care to lie back and relax, I'll start with your beautiful feet," my slave said. He poured liquid soap into one hand, and lifted my two feet with the other, and began to soap my feet and massage them, moving steadily up my calves to my knees. Then he sat me up while he caressed my neck and massaged my shoulders and my back. It was sexily stimulating, but it was relaxing at the same time. I was so relaxed with my eyes closed, that when one hand slipped soapily under my breast and raised it and began to knead it I gasped with surprise and pleasure. And then two hands were reaching down over my shoulders to cup and squeeze and knead and caress and fondle both my breasts at once, slippery fingers rubbing my nipples and squeezing them and rolling them until I was gasping with delight at every new sensation that tightened my tits and coursed through my body into the depths of my vagina.

The ecstasy stopped at last, and he whispered that I should stand up. The soaping and caressing continued over my belly and down my back, hands clasping my ass cheeks and pulling them apart to open my crack, a finger probing to find the entrance to my anus and soap it thoroughly. As the hands moved nearer to my crotch and began to soap my muff, my whole vagina was spasming with the need for something to fill it. But the hands moved down to my knees, and for a moment I was afraid he wasn't going to give my twat the attention she craved.

But my slave moved gradually up again, firmly turning me to the front so that he could spread my legs apart and work his way up the soft insides of my thighs. And at last he reached my crotch, caressing the little hollow each side of the opening of my cunt. My thighs opened wider by themselves, and I could feel how spread apart my aching cunt-hole was. My swelling cunt-lips must be protruding out of the hole instead of being enclosed, I knew. I wished I could see myself in the mirror.

He rinsed his hands, and gently sponged the soap away from the area all round my twat. Then his fingers went to work again, exploring and opening every part of my throbbing genitalia and sluicing them with warm water. My clit was in heaven as his fingers pressed against the fleshy hood that enclosed her, pulling it upward to expose the little knob, and then rubbing and squeezing as they had my nipples. At the same time I could feel first one and then two fingers probing their way into my vulva, past the inner lips, opening up the pulsating canal and moving about like the head of a snake to excite every corner of my vagina.

I was moaning, then crying, and suddenly I let out an anguished cry and put my hands out to rest my weight on my slave's head as my thighs opened and closed and my crotch writhed and my whole cunt went into orbit. I came and came, and all the time my slave continued to diddle me in ways that kept my orgasm going as if it would never stop.

When it was finally over, my slave gently lowered me into the bath water again, and washed the soap off my body. I wanted to thank him for a wonderful orgasm, but then I had a perverse idea that I wanted to really treat him like a slave, and not a lover. I looked up to where his prick was protruding from his groin, right above my face. Playing with my body had evidently excited him. Inflamed him, I should say, because his cock was a huge, rigid rod with a head that was so engorged its surface was stretched taut, smooth and shiny and bright red.

"That's a magnificent big fucking organ you've got there," I said. "I'd love to see it in action. I've only ever had a man cum inside me, I've never watched a man masturbate. Show me how you do it."

"It's my pleasure to obey you, Mistress," my slave said. I bet it was! He poured some liquid soap into one hand, and took his tool in hand. His thumb was on top, and his fingers enclosed it underneath. Then he began to stroke, backwards and forwards, at the same time rubbing the sensitive head with his thumb. He mashed that mutton slowly and methodically at first, looking at me, running his eyes over all my nakedness. But it wasn't long before the strokes became faster, and he was jerking himself off as hard as he could.

He was panting, just the way I had been. "I'll have to cum in the basin, Mistress," he gasped. "There's going to be a lot of it."

"Don't you dare!" I said. "I want to watch you cum. I want to watch you ejaculate all that jism you've been holding back in those balls. I want you spurting that lovely cum all over me."

He was too far gone to answer. He stepped closer to the bath and pointed his cock down toward my cunt. I put my hands under my ass and lifted myself so that my cunt was clear out of the water, ready to receive it.

And then he was cumming. I'd never imagined how violent it could be. He yelled, and a jet of white jism spurted out of the hole in the end of his knob and spattered on my belly. He jerked his prick again, and ejaculated again, soaking my belly and my bush and my twat with creamy cum.

He was wasting it. I pointed to my mouth. "This way," I said. "Give it to me in my mouth." I opened my mouth, and he turned and pointed his prick that way. A stream of cum soaked my face, and I was able to lick some of that hot thick jism into my mouth. With every jerk he ejaculated again, with so much pressure the stream of sperm must have been at least two feet long. My face was covered with it. I lost count of how many times he ejaculated, but before he'd finished I found myself mashing my twat as fiercely as he was bashing his bishop. I was rubbing his cum into my cunt with one hand, and rubbing his cum round my face and into my mouth with the other. And before his ejaculations were finished I was cumming again, crying out with the intensity of my orgasm.

When we were both finished, he washed me off and lifted me bodily out of the bath and dried me with a towel. I expected to see a prick that was drooping and too pooped to pecker, but my slave's fucking machine looked as if it was still in fine working order. I was wondering why I'd made him masturbate instead of stuffing that great organ up inside me right there in the bath, but then I remembered I'd decided to dedicate this day to the kind of sex my boy friends hadn't got around to. But I was determined to have that big prick inside me before the day was out.

I'd often thought of shaving my pussy, but I'd never got round to doing it. It would be exciting to have it shaved by my slave. I could just imagine his fingers touching it all over, and the nakedness of it when he'd finished. I lay back on the bed. and opened my legs wide. "The scissors and lady-shaver are on the dressing table," I said. "My pussy needs a haircut."