He corrected me, “You really want to be my slave whore slut, don’t you?” This was now the second time he had slipped the term slave into his vocabulary and the way he used it seemed so definitive and caused me some anxiety. “Yes, I think that’s what I want, Mr. John.” His look seemed to understand my hesitation. He replied, “Then finish your beer and get back in the car.” I was so relieved and pleased that he had reconsidered, and he was allowing me to get back in his car, slowly I realized that I had been manipulated and had willingly forced myself into this predator’s lair, and I was enjoying the feeling at least for the moment. He asked me more specific questions, “What is your height and weight?” I readily answered to show my enthusiasm: "178 cm for 72 kg, Mr. John", he seemed satisfied, "you are a handsome boy, in good physical shape and I am glad that you want to be my own slut, now tell me about yourself, and do not lie to me, I want to know all your secrets, start with your family and friends, your school or your work and all that." I started simply by explaining to him that I was born a twin in a family of four boys of which I was the third oldest. Then his questions became more specific: my name and the names and ages of my brothers, what they liked, were they all as beautiful as me, had I ever seen them naked, then he started asking me questions about my parents, especially my mother, he wanted to know what kind of clothes she wore. Then, as I finished my beer, he wanted to know my exact address and my phone number. He put his hand on my cheek and looked me straight in the eye and said, "You and I are going to get along great and you're going to make me a very, very good bitch. You're happy now, aren't you my slutty slut?" I smiled back and looked down in natural submission. The trap had closed on me and I had fallen into it willingly. At nineteen, I had signed myself into being owned by a sexual predator who had picked me up on the side of the road, just like the slutty slut I was now becoming. As I finished my beer, I knew that if I got back in the car, I would do so willingly and accept the consequences. My beer was finished and I threw the can into the gutter, I felt my head turn away from the beer and I steadied myself on the car, took a deep breath of fresh air and got back in the car.He turned in his seat to face me, I felt his eyes roam my entire body from head to toe, almost feeling them unzip my tight cardigan, he motioned for me to come closer to him and as I rocked forward and grabbed the back of the front seats to approach Mister John, he gently told me to kiss him and taste his deep, manly tongue. His warm hand and slender fingers slid into my shoulder length hair and grasped my bare neck pulling my face towards his. I had never kissed another man, and I wasn't sure I was doing it right, our lips collided and I opened my mouth wide to try to encompass his thin, thin lips. His hand on my neck forced my head forward, his fingers intertwined in my hair precisely controlling the movement of my head. He pulled my mouth away and whispered in my ear "you are my little slave slut; you belong to me and you will do as I say. Now open your mouth wide and kiss me properly, deeply and passionately, I want to feel your tongue in my throat. "Do it again." Once again he pulled my head towards his and I made a special effort to push my tongue as deep into his throat as possible. My whole body was engaged in the passion of this kiss, and I could feel my senses reacting, my skin tingling with excitement, and my cock stretching and expanding rapidly. He pulled my head to the side to ensure a closer intimacy for our tongues. My body was responding immensely to this display of passion and his commitment was so total. Mister John was so definitely the one my body was committed to. I had never in my life kissed another person like this and I felt my whole being drain away from me in this stranger draining my last fiber of resistance making me his. My arms fell and my body relaxed under the intensity of our shared passion. He felt my release and pushed me back into the corner. "It was better now, you learn what it is to obey, you enjoyed it, I felt it. Tell me how much you enjoyed it." he insisted.I slumped back in my seat, looked him straight in the eye and told him how much I had loved kissing him. He replied sternly, "Slut, don't you dare look me in the eye, keep your eyes down when you talk to me, is that understood?" I quickly looked down and apologized. "Don't say you're sorry, just learn or I'll have to teach you the hard way. You're mine, you belong to me; you're a worthless whore slut who doesn't exist outside of your pussy, your cock and your wet, slippery mouth at your master's service. And remember slut, I will punish you when and if I think you need it, and you will enjoy it." He paused to think for a moment and then continued, "Slut, how will you be punished? Close your eyes and tell me how your master will punish you?" » I thought for a moment before slowly replying, "Um... Mr. John, at school our headmaster would cane us if we misbehaved." He replied eagerly, "Very good slut, he would cane you, and how would he cane you?" Constantly urging me to comply with his will, "he would take me into his office and make me bend over in front of him, then fondle my ass before taking his cane and applying his ten strokes." In response, Mr. John had me count the ten strokes, one after the other, and show him stroke by stroke how much I had enjoyed it. As I began to count and act out the pleasure I had felt at that moment, Mr. John slowly ran his hand up my thighs and stroked my stiff little cock through my pants and seemed satisfied that he had forced a response. "Show me your cock, nice and hard." » I readily complied, unzipping the zipper and pulling out my erect penis for him to see. I was shy about showing him my swollen, precum covered cock head. At nineteen, I had a small but very active and virile cock, I could get hard several times a day and keep it hard for hours and my cock loved to be jerked off.“That’s good my slave, now just take off your pants,” he ordered. Being given a clear instruction like that turned me on even more, a feeling of service and obedience. I felt so satisfied that I undid the waistband button and my belt, and undid my fly, then slid my hands easily into the back of my pants and briefs, then slowly pushed my pants under my buttocks and down the back of my thighs to my ankles, my briefs clinging slightly to my erect cock before falling back into place. I looked up at John who motioned for me to remove my shoes and socks. I removed my shoes and socks along with the pants and briefs placing them all in a pile next to me. Sir John, placed his hands on my knees and spread them, forcing them wider and wider apart. I could feel the tendons in my thighs stretching as he stroked my cock, remarking aloud, “Nice little cock and nice tight balls, like a schoolboy, I love that.” It helped my confidence even though I still felt self-conscious and shy. “Leave your legs like that and take your top off.” It was a slightly painful position to hold, but I didn’t want to disappoint him. With his free hands, he stroked and squeezed my genitals. My top was a tight woolen zip-up cardigan and my fingers gripped the zipper clasp and with one hand I held the top collar and with my left hand I slowly slid the zipper down, while his eyes focused on my torso as it revealed itself. “You’re a real slut, aren’t you slut???” he asked me. I smiled and winked at him, and he laughed, “you and I are really going to get along.” My tight card ...

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