"Where did you get him?" the dapper woman in the hotel lobby asked as she placed her hand in the center of my chest and then slowly slid her hand down across my abdomen.
"At a slave auction in Seattle," my girlfriend replied, "I wasn't planning on making any purchases that day, but once they marched him out on stage, I couldn't stop staring at him."
"I totally get that," the woman said, her hand dropping lower so it could grab the shaft of my cock. My wrists were bound behind my back, and my wrist restraints were connected to the back of my slave collar by a short chain. The way I was bound meant that I couldn't have stopped her from gripping my hard, erect cock even if I tried.
"I mean, he's got a deliciously slender waist, tight abs, those pink, pouty lips, boyish face, dancer's legs, and his butt is perfect! I mean just look!"
As if for emphasis, my girlfriend smacked her right hand hard across my ass. There was a loud
CRACK
that was heard all across the hotel lobby and some of the hotel staff and guests looked up as the sound caught their attention.
"His ass is high, firm and toned," my girlfriend said, "It's like it was sculpted out of marble by a master craftsman."
"I'll bet he's fun to spank," the woman said, releasing my cock from her grip and then positioning herself so she could grab both of my buttocks and give them a good squeeze.
As I was wearing only a slave collar, my naked body was shamelessly on display in the lobby of the Marriott Hotel, my cock was fully and humiliatingly erect and hotel guests were openly ogling me, it would be easy to assume that I was a slave, however, it was all a deception perpetrated by my girlfriend and I.
_ _
My name is Christoph Liebler. I'm 19 years old and the son of wealthy parents who were never around when I was growing up. I was raised by nannies, tutors and person trainers. Something about the way that I was raised had left me feeling empty. I couldn't really put it into words or find a way to ask for help, until my girlfriend came up with a suggestion.
We often watched porn together and she noticed that a large percentage of the porn that I watched involved slaves. I had videos of slave auctions from San Francisco and Los Angeles and even some slave training videos. Since I'd never bought a slave for myself (and I could easily afford one), Kate joked that what I really wanted was to become a slave myself.
It started off as a joke, but the more I thought about it, the more turned on I became. The thought of being naked, helpless, groped and examined by prurient strangers seemed so intimate and overwhelmingly personal. The idea of putting myself in that vulnerable and humiliating position was unexpectedly thrilling. Eventually, I came up with a mad idea to experience the thrills of slavery without truly becoming a slave.
I know people in the Office of Slave Commerce, and I was able to get one of them to provide me with a government issued slave collar with a blank tag. Then I took the collar to an engraver and had them engrave the name Joseph Butcher and a slave identification number of 10112. I also got some fake papers that declared Joseph Butcher was Kate's property, legally purchased at a slave auction in Seattle.
Strictly speaking this wasn't legal. It's an act of fraud to issue a slave collar for someone who hasn't been sentenced to slavery. However, when you're the son of a multi-millionaire, people tend to let you get away with things. Of course, it doesn't hurt to be generous and bestow gifts on government employees and engravers, so that they know I appreciate them looking the other way when I do things that aren't one-hundred percent legal.
Neither the slave collar nor the papers would stand up to scrutiny, but the important thing I'd learned is that nobody ever bothers to check. Go anywhere in America and if an attractive naked man appears in public, submissively allowing himself to be led around on a leash by a well-dressed woman, everyone just assumes that he's a slave. Nobody bothers to go to a government database to verify his status. People have been conditioned to believe that sexually appealing, naked people in public
MUST
be slaves!
_ _
The woman Kate was talking to was named Kaley, and Kaley's interest in me was more than just the normal female attraction to attractive, young, naked men. She had an ulterior motive.
"Listen, my sister is getting married next week and we're throwing her a bachelorette party today in this very hotel. The stripper we hired, cancelled at the last minute. Would you be willing to let me borrow your slave for my sister's party? I'd pay you."
The question caught Kate off guard. She and I had never discussed the possibility of loaning me out to anyone and for a few seconds she was like a deer caught in the headlights and she didn't say anything.
"Um, well, he's never really been trained for that sort of thing," Kate finally replied, "He's normally used for more intimate services, you know, entertaining one woman at a time."
"He doesn't really need any skill sets," Kaley said, "He just needs to stand there and look cute and let my sister touch him all over. Maybe get him over her lap so that she can spank him. I'll pay you five-hundred dollars."
At first, Kate turned down the offer, but Kaley kept offering more and more money. Eventually Kaley offered so much money it would have seemed suspicious if Kate didn't agree to loan me out. The deal was sealed with a handshake and Kate promised to deliver me at 8:00 PM to the hotel suite where the bachelorette party was taking place.
After her conversation with Kaley, Kate marched me across the hotel lobby and to the elevators. We made stops on the third, fourth and fifth floors, where she marched me up and down the halls, giving the hotel guests and employees plenty of opportunities to ogle my nakedness.
Being naked in a public place was a heady experience for me. It was both humiliating and freeing, terrifying and exciting. I was so vulnerable and exposed, but at the same time, sexually aroused in a way I'd never experienced before. Both men and women openly checked out my ass. Men in suits and ties, women in skirt suits, women in running shorts and tank tops, guys in jeans and t-shirts, everyone in the hotel it seemed were openly examining every line of my naked body as if trying to commit my naked body to memory. They weren't shy about it, people stopped and took good, long penetrating looks as they checked me out.
I was exposed and sexually objectified by everyone in the hotel as Kate parading me around and put my naked anatomy on display. Of course, the whole thing wad demeaning and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
As Christoph Liebler, I was the son of very wealthy parents and people were always very deferential to me and treated me with the greatest of respect. As Joseph, the naked slave, I was stripped of dignity and treated as a naked body to be ogled, fondled, spanked and sexually abused. I found that being objectified and gawked at to be a delicious thrill. My blood surged and my body was awash with adrenaline as people crowded around and eyed me like I was something delicious for them to sink their teeth into.
I had discussed my psychological needs with Kate. I wanted to be stripped of my clothes and my dignity and examined like a piece of meat. I wanted wicked men and women to rape me with their probing, relentless gazes. And as she marched me down the hallways of the hotel, I felt as if all my dreams were coming true. My pulse raced, my breathing quickened, and my cock twitched. I experienced a rollercoaster of emotions as total strangers in the hotel treated me as if my entire purpose for existing was to display my naked body and provide them with prurient entertainment.
Up in my hotel room, Kate helped me to prepare for the bachelorette party. I did a series of push-ups, crunches and other exercises to get my muscles to stand out. Then Kate helped me to shave my cock, scrotum, perineum, anus and that entire area to make certain no stubble was left behind. After that I showered and cleaned myself thoroughly both inside and out.
While I was toweling off, Kate came into the bathroom and holding a small bundle of leather straps in one hand, looked me in the eye and said, "You should wear this for the party.
I didn't recognize what she was holding at first, so I asked, "What is it?"
"It's a cock and ball harness," she replied. "It'll help guarantee your cock doesn't go soft during the festivities."
My cock was achingly hard and showed no signs of going soft any time soon, but I stood there with my legs spread apart while Kate knelt at my feet and fitted one leather strap tightly around the base of my cock. Then my balls were pulled forward and a smaller leather strap was fitted tightly around the base of my scrotum. There was another loud snap, and both my cock and balls were bound in such a way that blood couldn't drain from either one. Suddenly my cock looked even larger and more swollen than before.
I was delivered to the bachelorette party at 7:55 PM and Kate got paid up front. She was told that she could stay in the room with me but was told not to interfere with the bridesmaids or the bride as they had fun with me. Kate seemed to be a little put out by this instruction, but she stood in the back and quietly allowed the bridesmaids to do whatever they wanted to me.
"He looks like a taller, blonder version of Julian MacKay," one of the bridesmaids gushed.
"Oh my God,"
another one exclaimed, "
Look at his cock!"
Kaley and four other women gravitated towards me. The bride's name was Melissa, and her bridesmaids were named Kaley, Mary, Rachel and Sanaa.
"He's a beauty, alright," commented Sanaa as she came close enough to touch me.
"If you want to touch him, go ahead," Kate encouraged. Then she snapped at me and said
, "Joseph! Inspection pose!"
I had watched hours of videos of slave auctions and training videos. I knew all about slave positions. The inspection pose was where a slave stood with his legs spread far apart, hands behind the back of his neck, with his fingers intertwined, his elbows pulled back and his chest thrust forward.
