I'm a 34 years old bear admirer and – I have to admit – a bit of an exhibitionist.
I have always loved to take my clothes off in public places, preferably when there are manly, hairy guys around. And it's not just idle show; my secret hope has always been that one or more of those guys would be sufficiently encouraged by my wanton behavior to take advantage of me – anyway he or they wanted to.
This is the story of how, by accident or rather misfortune, one of my wildest fantasies actually came true.

There's a nude beach near where I live and as you can imagine, I like to spend lots of my free time there. It's a great place to meet other gays, show off your private parts and, if you're very lucky, even get some modest action in one of the more private spots in the dunes.

One day, as I arrived at the seaside and got out of my car, I noticed a remarkably handsome, somewhat stocky man with a healthy tan and a full brown beard, coming in my direction. I couldn't keep my eyes of his hairy chest or the inviting bulge in the front of his swimming trunks, so much so I even ventured an uncertain smile. He hardly glanced at me, however, and walked straight by, leaving me with a sorry feeling, but also a good view of his muscular buns in the tight trunks.

Not deterred, I made my way to the 'clothing optional'-area, through the sandy paths. Between the spiky sea lyme grass, I spotted glimpses of naked sunbathers.
The moment I found an empty space that was more or less secluded from the beach itself, but in full view of the rest of the dunes, I dropped down my kit-bag and hastily started to take my shirt and trousers off. I spread out the beach towel and looked around to see if anyone was already watching. I'm very proud of the little body hair I have, but I do like to shave off my pubic hair before putting myself on display. When I slowly and deliberately pull down my shorts in front of my unseen audience, it just makes me feel as if I'm really, totally naked.

It was a nice, sunny day and an uneventful hour lazily slipped by. Now and then, other nudists walked in and out of view. When a tall, blond man with a moustache and a cockring crossed my patch of sand I tried to draw his attention by rubbing my chest sensually with suntan oil, but he just nodded politely and walked on.
And then I spotted him again, the stocky hunk with the brown fur.
He was standing at the top of the dune ridge only twenty yards away, surveying the dunes beneath him as if he was on the look- out for someone. To my delight, he too had taken off the swimming trunks, granting me a good look at his nicely shaped dick. Since he was still wearing his sunglasses, I could not be sure if he had seen me at all or not, even though he was looking more or less in my direction.
I decided to make myself more noticeable, turned over on my hands and knees, lifted my ass and spread my legs a little to offer him a better view of my crack and not so private parts. He didn't stir and again, I was not sure if he'd even noticed. But when I turned back over again, I saw him walking up to me. My heart started to race, but calmed back down when he stopped no more than six or seven yards away from me, looking at me intently through his dark glasses. I hope I had not made him lose his nerve, so I gave him a smile and a nod. In reply, he merely squatted down a little, swirled his dick around with a jerk of the pelvis and then leisurely pissed on the warm sand.

My first impulse was to get up, walk up to him and join him by emptying my own bladder in the pool he had just made, but halfway I somehow froze (partly because I realized that if I stood up completely, others would be able to see me and possibly take offence, partly because the stern, unsmiling look on the man's face did not turn any more encouraging), sat down again on my knees, legs far apart, pointed my dick in front of me and my own piss spurted in the sand. I did not really dare to look him in the face while I was relieving myself like this and coyly looked down at the growing puddle of pee.
I became elated by my own flurries of fantasy about what would happen next. I could almost feel his strong hands kneading my flesh and his fingers feeling my already itchy asshole. But when the trickle finally stopped and I looked up again, he had already turned around and simply walked away. I felt horrible. It's one thing to be humiliated, many times even a very enjoyable thing, but a whole other thing if you've just humiliated yourself.
I cursed myself and my luck as I got up to find a different spot to sunbathe.

Eventually, I found a quiet place away from the noisy beach, lay down on my towel and tried to forget about the jerk. The sun felt nice on my bare back and ass, I relaxed, but then I made a very stupid mistake; I dozed off.
When I woke up again, what must have been half an hour later, my kit-bag with all my clothes and belongings had disappeared. At first I couldn't believe it and started searching frantically for the thing. To no avail. Slowly, but surely, the full nastiness of my predicament dawned upon me. There I was, stark naked, with no money, no car or house keys, no means of identification, no nothing, except a smudgy beach towel and a flask of suntan oil.
I needed help. Although I didn't really know what kind of help or from who.

Half dazed, half panicky, I picked up the towel and started walking. Every time I saw someone else walking in my direction, I felt the urge to go up to them and explain them what had happened. But I somehow never managed to actually do so. Explain what exactly? And what if they couldn't care less? Then, just as my own indecision was turning into despair, I saw him again.
He was sitting on his own in the dune sand, still wearing nothing but his sunglasses, a bottle of beer in his hand, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world.
This time I didn't hesitate. After all, he was the closest thing I had to an acquaintance around there. I walked up to him, forced a smile and waited for him to raise his head at me.
"Hi," I said with a quiver in my voice, " I was wondering if you could help me…"
"With what?", he said, not very forthcomingly.
I still took it as an encouragement and knelt down beside him, pressing my private parts between my thighs and still clinging on to the towel.
"Something odd has happened. I must have dozed off for a couple of minutes and when I woke up again, my bag with all my clothes and stuff had disappeared. Someone must have taken it."
I must have looked pretty pathetic. The hairy hunk took of his sunglasses for the first time and looked me up and down. I opened my thighs a bit in an attempt to look less awkward. He took a long, hard look at my groin, sighed and said indifferently : "Well, I haven't seen anyone take anything." "The point is, ", I stammered, "that most of my belongings were in that bag too; my car keys, wallet." I wasn't sure how to go on.
"So why did you come to me?"
That flustered me even more. "Well, it's not as if we're already good friends" – I tried to grin here – "but we did have this rapport a while ago, so I thought…"
He nodded, but not friendly. "Listen, I only come here because I like to get naked in public and - if all goes well - to jack off in front of other horny guys. I didn't come here to make friends."
My heart sank. I felt like a complete idiot.
"What did you expect me to do anyway?"
I didn't have the heart or the presence of mind to get up and tell him to stuff it, so I replied hesitantly: "I was wondering if you could lend me some clothes and perhaps drive me to the nearest police station or something." All of a sudden, his demeanor seemed to thaw a little bit. He sat up, actually produced a smile and handed me his beer bottle. It was empty.
"Well, maybe I can and maybe I will, pal. But only if you make it worth my while."
"Sure.", I said – too relieved to think too much about it.
"I'll pay you back later, of course."
"You'll pay me back all right.", he grinned. I wasn't sure if I liked that tone.
"Hey, you weren't that shy earlier in the day. Why don't you relax a bit and give me a good look at what you've got." I opened my legs a little further, but that wasn't enough for the horny devil.
"No, no, I want a good look.", he said.
I sat down on my ass, spread my legs before him as wide as I could and leaned back to give him the proper look he wanted. I glimpsed around me to make sure nobody else was watching, but I couldn't be sure.
Luckily, my reluctant helper seemed to like what he saw.
"Nice sack, ", he said, "do you always keep it shaved?"
"Not always."
"Only when you feel like acting the exhibitionistic slut.", he grinned in reply and I was too embarrassed to admit it was true.
"Alright. Get on all fours now.", he ordered laughingly. I obeyed and turned myself slowly on my hands and knees, my ass pointing straight at him and my legs spread wide. As I felt his fingers exploring my crack, gently prodding my asshole, my heart started to pound. This was exactly what I wanted to happen, but certainly not when.
"Very good. Now take that bottle I just gave you and fill it up for me."
I turned my head, but he slapped me reproachfully on the buttock. "In the position you're in now."
I felt for the bottle, placed it between my legs in the grainy sand and positioned my dick so that the hole of the glans was just resting over the opening of the bottle. Thirty painful seconds later I finally managed to get the stream of pee going. My dick often slipped and I had to reposition it constantly, meanwhile balancing on one arm, to stop the warm piss from flowing in the sand. The man grinned. At last my bladder was empty again.
"No we're going to see how supple your asshole is.", he said, "Press the bottle firmly in the sand and go sit on it without touching it. If you can take the neck of the bottle up your ass, without spilling your own piss in your gut, I'll help you."
My heart sank even further, but I had already gone too far now, to quit. At the same time, a strange feeling of submissive excitement slowly came over me that wouldn't allow me to stop. So I obeyed the dark stranger. I got up, feet wide apart and moving my abdomen about to position my crack exactly over the bottleneck, as if I were trying to do some tribal dance. I grabbed my butt cheeks in both hands and spread them as wide as I could, meanwhile fingering my asshole. I knew it would be hard to take without any lube and I got so nervous I nearly lost my balance. But then I could feel the cold, wet rim of the bottle on my sphincter and tried to think of nothing as I lowered myself. Luckily my ass had had lots of penetration practice over the years, so I somehow managed to make the neck slide the whole way up my rectum.
"Now get up again and don't lose it.", he grinned.
I tensed up my muscles, careful not to squeeze too hard, and slowly lifted up my upper body. When I was finally standing up straight again, he pulled the bottle out and slid two of his fingers in. I wondered if he would fuck me right there and then, still in broad daylight, but he didn't. He merely pulled his fingers out again, slapped my buttocks and said "Alright, then." I couldn't figure this guy out at all.

He stood up and put his clothes back on. When he was finished, he handed me a dirty T-shirt from his bag. "That's all I can give you right now. Wrap your towel around your waist , so we can go to my car without causing too much consternation."
I did as he told me, but it didn't help much. People stared at me and grinned as we went to the parking lot. In spite of my ridiculous predicament, I have to admit that I actually also felt a bit proud to be seen walking next to such a gorgeous, handsome hunk.
"Are we going to your place?", I asked hopefully as he opened the door for me.
"Not yet,", he answered, "I'm going to introduce you to a couple of friends first. You'll like them. You just do as I tell you and you'll be fine."
I didn't know if I should take that as a promise or as a threat, but I didn't really have the heart to ask any further questions.

During the first few miles on the road, sitting beside this collected, sexually dominant bear, a strange and sensual calm came over me.
I was quietly hoping that he would pull over, drag me out of the car and rape me behind some bushes, but all he did was say deliciously obscene things under his breath, call me names and tease my constantly semi-erect cock in between gear shifts.
"Call me Sir, slut."
"Yes, Sir." I could hardly breathe, leave alone speak, from excitement.
"Now tell me you're a fucking slut and you're willing to take any cock up your ass I tell you to."
I repeated hoarsely that I was a fucking bear slut and would gladly service all the hairy, virile men he would point out to me and wriggled my bare ass on the seat, desperately trying to put out the fire up my hole and not to come in Sir's hand.

Finally, we stopped dozens of miles away from anywhere it seemed, near a farmhouse.
I got out of the truck, still wearing nothing but the dirty T- shirt and my own towel wrapped around my loins. Luckily, there didn't seem to be a living soul around.
"Take that towel away. It looks ridiculous.", Sir said, as we walked up to the front door of the farmhouse. I hesitated and he snatched it off himself. I quickly covered my genitals with my hands as I heard someone coming.
A tall, impressive man in his early fifties opened the door for us. His face had a deep tan, wrinkles and what people tend to call 'strong features'. He was bald on top, the grayish hair that remained was trimmed to a stubble that was even shorter than his whiskers and goatee. Since he was only wearing a jeans overall, I immediately noticed his broad shoulders and muscular build.
To my great amazement, he hardly took any notice of me as he greeted Sir with a bear hug and a few pats on the shoulder.
"Hi, Uncle Geoffrey. Didn't think you'd see me back this soon, did you ?", Sir said.
Only after exchanging some social talk, did he seem to acknowledge my existence. Grudgingly, I felt.
"Where did you pick him up?"
"At the beach. I'll explain you later."
We went into the house. Uncle Geoffrey took us into the kitchen and poured us a cup of coffee. I had no idea what to expect or what could be going through the older man's mind. Or through the younger one's, for that matter. Uncle Geoff didn't seem a bit bewildered by my state of undress or the fact that his nephew didn't even bother to introduce me. I got the impression that this wasn't the first time Sir had brought a naked stranger to his house, and that the old man had stopped wondering about it a long time ago.
I drank my coffee and kept quiet, trying to make head or tails of their conversation.
"Are any on the farmhands still around, Uncle Geoff?" asked Sir, while he glanced at me.
"Bob is still working in the stable."
Suddenly, both turned their attention to me.
"How much do you ask for him?", Uncle Geoff asked flatly.
"The usual.", Sir replied, "If Bob wants to have a go too, you guys get the same rate as last time."
I sat up in alarm and disbelief.
But before I could utter anything, Sir calmly said : "Lie down on the table and grab your ankles, so that Uncle Geoff can check you out."
At first, I couldn't move. I could almost feel Sir's hard, commanding look and Uncle Geoff's inspecting gaze stinging me. "What is this?"; I managed to say at last, "I'm not…"
Sir got up slowly and the look on his face made it clear that he would not appreciate a second interruption.
"Listen. You've no money or identification on you, no car, most probably not even a firm idea of where you are exactly. You're bollock naked and there's no-one else around to help you. It looks to me as if the only option you have is to do as I tell you and make it worth my while to help you."
I stared at him blankly.
"Or you can just give me back my T-shirt, fuck off and try your luck next door – it's only a quarter of a mile away.", he concluded.
I swallowed, and did as I had been told to do.
"Shirt off first!", Sir snarled.
Uncle Geoffrey didn't seem at all put off by my little exhibition of discontent, and started to feel me up immediately as if he were checking out a calf at a cattle auction. He pinched my buttocks, felt the muscles in my legs, squeezed my balls and dick hard between his strong root-like fingers and then prodded my asshole with his middle finger.
"He's a bit skinny. I like them meatier.", Uncle Geoffrey complained to his nephew, "Have you had him yet? Is he a good fuck?"
"I haven't tried him myself yet, but I've made him do some tricks for me. He's obviously a first class slut. You won't regret it, uncle."
"OK, he can help out in the stable for a while first. Then, when his butt crack is ripe and sweaty, we'll all have some fun with him."

They made me come down from the table and lead me outside the house to the stable.
The place was so hot and smelly, I thought I'd faint at first. A sturdy looking man, with a moustache and a bare, curly haired chest, who was holding a wheel barrel came up to us. He greeted Sir absentmindedly whilst looking me up and down grinningly. I remember now how he kept that same, horny grin of his face that whole evening. This was Bob.
Uncle Geoff gave me a pair of rubber boots, nothing more, and told me to help Bob clean out the stable.

The next two hours I spent raking up dirt, wiping off more dirt and half-heartedly dodging Bob's groping hands. Normally, I wouldn't have minded to be felt up thoroughly, or even sexually assaulted. What irritated me was that Bob didn't seem to want sex, he just enjoyed making me feel like a fool. Several times, he told me to pick something up from the floor and every time I stooped or knelt down to do so, he ran his fingers up my butt crack or grabbed me by the sack. One time he pinched me so hard in the nuts, that I yelled out and turned around to take a swing at him.
He just grinned his horny grin at me, and told me 'Whoa, horsie, calm down, boy, your riders will be here any minute now..."
Then he went over to a part of the dung grill that I had just cleaned. He dropped his pants, squatted over the grill and started to shit right in front of me. Although part of me felt humiliated and disgusted, another part, the part that had the real control over me that day, made sure I could not take my eyes off the spectacle. When Bob saw me staring at him, he started to stroke his long, hose-like cock and his grin became even wider. When he was finished, he pulled his pants back up without wiping and gestured to me that it was my turn. It didn't occur to me not to obey, and so I too squatted over the grill and hurriedly emptied my bowels.

Eventually, the stable doors opened again and Sir and Uncle Geoffrey came in. I stopped scraping the floor and got up with a limp feeling in my knees. This was it, I was about to used as a lust slave.
Sir looked his usual calm self and was holding something that looked like a lasso to me. Uncle Geoff, however, looked like a wrathful warrior-deity from some ancient myth. In his hand he held a five foot pole with a rubber dildo attached to the end. He was holding the thing like a spear, his thick, uncut cock and heavy balls hanging out of the open fly of his overall. Sir came over to me, dragged me towards him and pushed me to my knees in front of the older man. I didn't dare to take any initiative, and Uncle Geoffrey just looked down at me as an executioner would at his victim. That gaze hypnotized me. From the corner of my eye, I could see Bob joining Sir and Uncle Geoffrey and pulling his pants down again.
Bob started wriggling his half hard cock in front of me, while Uncle Geoff simply pulled my upper lip down with his free hand. A slap on the back of my head nudged me into action. I began to lick the rim of the salty foreskin and as Uncle Geoff's manhood jerked up, I took the tip of the glans in my mouth, pushed the skin back with my lips and started to suck that fat dick greedily.
Uncle Geoff pulled me back by the hair and shoved my head towards Bob's eager member. Once again, I was not allowed more than a few hauls on this smelly sperm hose. Sir laid the noose of the lasso around my neck, pulled it tight and urged me to get off my knees by pulling the rope with a jerk.
He told me to take of the rubber boots - I did – and lead me by the rope to a corner of the stable. He slid the end of the rope through a metal ring in the wall and pulled it so hard that I stumbled down to the ground and landed on my hands and knees. Luckily the hay and dirt broke my fall a bit. Sir tied the knot firmly, slapped my face and told me to assume the fucking position 'as a proper slut should'. Trembling with fear and excitement, I spread my legs wide, tilted my ass up and lowered my head as deep as the rope would allow. The thought of being raped by these horny bears and finally getting what was coming to me from Sir was making me so hot, bothered and flustered, that my body seemed to forget to get a hard on.
I could feel Uncle Geoffrey's breath on my asshole as he sniffed my crack and loudly commented on my odor and state of readiness.
Then he decided to test me out with the strange tool. He stood back, pointing and prodding the long stick with the dildo-head at my asshole as if it were a pool cue. Under boisterous cheers from Bob, Uncle Geoffrey inserted the dildo skillfully in my painful rectum with short, rhythmical thrusts. I tried not to wince as Uncle Geoffrey poked the dildo around, pulled it out, only to push it back in again, but eventually the pain became so sharp, that I cried out. Sir pulled my head up by the hair, took a long, hard look at my contorted face and said "Now, what's all this yelling about, slut? I believe we'll have to find a way to keep you quiet on the job."
At last, Uncle Geoffrey slid the dildo out again and Sir let go off my hair. He went and took something that looked like part of a horse's harness off a nail in the wall, came back under loud cheers from the others, and totally unexpectedly pinched my nose. As I gasped for breath, he put the steel bit in my mouth and pulled the leather bridle over my head.
I trembled on my hands and knees with fear and ferocious lust at the thought what was about to happen.
Sir gave the reins to Uncle Geoffrey, who knelt down behind me. I could feel his warm, throbbing cock exploring my man-cunt, then the strong, vicious jerk inwards, followed by the relaxed pumping of his pelvis. He pulled the reins with one hand, kneaded my nutsack with the other as he fucked me. That thick, hard bear dick felt snug and wonderful after that dildo- sledgehammer, but always just as I was about to get overwhelmed with pleasure, a sharp pull at the reins of a slap on the buttocks would remind me that I was here for their pleasure, not for mine.
Uncle Geoffrey came with a loud grunt and Bob took his place. He lubed me up with some spit and pushed his long member in without further ado. Even while erect, his cock still felt flexible and instead of working against my body, it somehow seemed to follow the curves and hollows of my insides smoothly. Bob may have been a bastard, but I have to admit he also was a grade A fucker. I lost myself in the deep, delicious thrusts of his loins and even his gentler pulls at the reins began to feel sexy.
Both Uncle Geoffrey and Bob raped me a second time, but Sir did not even unzip his fly for me.
When at last, they were through with me, Uncle Geoffrey pushed my head down to the stable floor with his booted foot and they both pissed over me "as boars do with the sow".

Before I had fully realized it was over, Sir had taken the harness from my head and lead me to a cot next to the stable. There was a shower and some dirty towels. Sir told me to clean up and go and wait for him in the car. I obeyed, still fuck- drunk from the heady sex-session and too numb to wonder what was going to happen next or feel anything else than the profound , strangely satisfying physical sensation of being a lust-object that lingered in my body.

More than an hour later, Sir came out of the hose and took his place in the driver's seat. He had brought me the T-shirt, but once again, nothing more.
We started driving and it was only when we reached the highway, that I recovered some sense of orientation. During the ride, Sir complimented me on my abilities as a bear whore, but still didn't seem any more eager to take advantage of them himself. It was almost midnight, when we finally arrived in the city.

We drove to a rougher part of town I didn't know very well. Sir parked the car in front of a shabby looking joint with wooden boards nailed before the windows. Two guys in leather gear standing at the door, turned to us - menacingly I thought.
"Get out.", Sir ordered.
"Like this?", I asked, looking at my naked lower body.
"You're an exhibitionist, aren't you? Think anyone around here is going to call the police when they see some skinny flasher?", he snarled.
We both got out of the car. The pavement felt icy cold under my bare feet. The two guys didn't waste any time, came straight up to me and started to check me out, pinch my ass cheeks and feel my genitals. I was mighty glad when Sir finally pushed me through the door and into the leather bar.
Sir didn't give me any time to get used to the smoky darkness, though. He grabbed me by the arm and lead me to a narrow passage way at the back of the room.
"We're here to see Master Joe, another old friend of mine. He owns this bar and some of the people around here too. I advise you to be polite to him.", Sir muttered in my ear.
There was an illuminated urinal right next to the door and since I really needed to pee I motioned to Sir.
"Later.", he said, twisted my arm behind my back and shoved me into the passage.
Several dicks were hanging or standing out of the glory holes in the side panels, but Sir paid them no mind and nudged me on to the door at the end of the corridor.
He knocked three times and a small, elderly man in his underwear opened the door to Master Joe's private residence to us.

The bizarre room looked like a cross between a dungeon and a boudoir. There were chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, but the place was only lit by the reddish glow of tacky electric candles. There were thick, velvety curtains hanging over the windows that were covered up by black, wooden panels. Drawings of fistfucking leather men and scat rituals in expensive frames graced the walls.
The elderly man hurried back to the other corner of the room where Master Joe sat, the monarch of this obscene mini kingdom. He was a big, stout bear with long hair under his cowboy hat, a bushy beard and pilot-type sunglasses. A broad smile came over his face as he saw Sir dragging me into his lair. He was sitting on a rimming seat-throne, wearing nothing but an unbuttoned army shirt, his leather boots, and the aforementioned hat and shades. He had a smoking cigar in his hand and a bamboo cane in the other.
In the semi-dark I could only make out the scalp of the man underneath the seat who was servicing him, Master Joe's thick, but still limp dick dangling just above it. In the middle of the small room, in front of Master Joe's seat, stood a pillory.
Later, I learned that Master Joe not only used it to present his own slaves appropriately positioned to his clientele. Some customers who had not been able to pay the bill, had also been captivated in the wooden contraption with their pants pulled down, so that they could make the extra money needed right there before Master Joe's eyes.
Sir stood me in front of Master Joe, still firmly twisting my arm and explained what had happened to me and how he had already taken advantage of the situation. Master Joe seemed very pleased with the story, gently nodding as Sir went over the details of my subservient behavior and blowing smoke rings in the thick air and petting the bald head of the servant beneath him.
Suddenly he took my half hard cock in his heavy hand, squeezed it hard, moved his hand down to weigh my sack in his palm and then he squeezed that even harder. The sharp pain made me whimper and bend forward to him. Master Joe and Sir both seemed amused by this.
Finally he spoke with a deep, low voice. "So, why did you bring your bitch here?"
"Well, you see, this slut is a bit fussy, Joe. He claims he only really likes bears. So I brought him here to find some more suitable tricks."
"I've got a solution for your problem."; he said, "Put his head and wrists in my medieval locker over there and let him look at me while the customers are enjoying his skinny ass."
"An excellent idea, Joe.", grinned Sir, "But wouldn't you rather have a nice view of that ass while the action takes place? We can make him face the opposite wall instead."
"No. I've seen enough bare asses. I'd rather see the expression on his face when he's being had by his newfound clients." I didn't even bother to protest. I let Sir drag me to the pillory, watched him undo the lock and silently obeyed when he told me to bend over and put my neck and wrists in place. I had to fight a sudden surge of panic when the upper board came down and Sir turned the key in the lock. It got even worse when I heard him leaving the dungeon room.
I looked up and straight into Master Joe's grinning face. I must have looked exceptionally miserable, because even the big man felt inclined to say a comforting word. "Relax and try to enjoy the ordeal, boy. It may feel a bit uncomfortable now, but believe me, this experience will be your favorite wanking fantasy for years to come."
At that point, he got up, immediately followed by his bald rimming slave. Master Joe snapped his fingers and the slave knelt before him with his mouth wide open. His master took his short, thick manhood between his fingers and started to piss in the slave's mouth. To my amazement, he didn't spill a drop of the torrent.
At this point, my bladder was about to burst. With a slight stammer in my voice, I told so to Master Joe and asked if there was any way I could relief myself in my position. Master Joe nodded to the slave. On that mark, the slave came over to me and took the tip of my dangling dick between his lips as an unspoken invitation. Just as I let the piss flow freely, I could hear a group of men coming into the room. They must have noticed the scene right away, 'cause they started laughing and cheering me on right away.
They all – I couldn't tell how many there were – gathered behind me and started to feel me up, abuse me and slap my already sore buttocks. Two of them commented on the shape and size of my ass and genitals and seemed pleased enough. One poured his cold drink down my crack and the alcohol burnt the tender, shaven parts of my skin.
Then Sir got down to business and named the prices. A little for fingering my asshole, a bit more for slapping my ass and a lot for the actual fucking. For some reason, rimming was free. One of them asked how much a blowjob would cost, but Sir was adamant ; "Rear end only tonight, guys."
During the following two hours or so, my ass was repeatedly ravaged by half a dozen of hard cocks in all shapes and sizes. In between fucks, my bottom and thighs were slapped and once even caned, my crack was greedily licked and my genitals were pulled, squeezed and sucked like a cow's udder. Master Joe clearly enjoyed my face twitching and muted groans and moans.
When he saw that things were getting particularly rough for me, he got up from his seat and stood next to me, petting my head and calling me a 'good little whore'. He rubbed his belly against my beard and I gratefully licked his firm flesh and belly-button.
When the intense anal pleasure turned into intense pain again, he gave me his thumb to suck on and later his thick, limp dick as a kind of comforter. I really liked Master Joe. He seemed to truly understand a sexually subservient mind and was generous enough to act accordingly. His powerful, deeply manly presence gave me the strength to not only endure the untamed gangbang, but even enjoy it.

When everyone in the place who had wanted to pay for it, had screwed me, they let me out of the pillory and gave me a wet cloth and a bucket. I had to mop up the mess the customers had made on the floor first. Only then, was I allowed to go back to the car and wait for Sir.

It was early morning when we finally arrived at Sir's house. To my relief, he handed me some old clothes of his and showed me a couch to crash on.
He seemed very pleased with his earnings that night, even almost friendly, and that gave me the courage to ask him if he too had fucked me at Master Joe's. He shook his head, grinning. Then I did something that still baffles me today. I dropped my badly fitting pants again, took off the T-shirt, lay down on the couch, spread and raised my legs, holding them up by the ankles, wriggled my ass like a cat in heat and humbly asked him
"Please, do it now, Sir."
He gave me an amazingly warm smile, shook his head again, and only said :
"I don't fuck cock-greedy sluts, boy. I just make money off them."
Then he turned around and went up to the bedroom.

I won't go into the details on how I eventually got some of my stuff back or back home.
But there is an interesting tail to my story I'd like to share with you.
Master Joe had been right when he said that my ordeal in his pillory would become a great wanking favorite and it wasn't before long that I had found the way back to Master Joe's joint on my own. I went there regularly and although I didn't see the Master again or make it to his private quarters, I spent many blissful hours in the sling in the attic getting my brains fucked out by the other regulars.
One night however, a slender, naked man came up to me as I was sitting at the bar and asked me to come with him. I recognized the shaven head of Master Joe's rimming slave and eagerly followed him through the passage way.
"Does Master Joe know I'm here?", I asked.
"No, but I saw you come in and I recognized your face at once. I called you because there's something in the master's room that might interest you.", he grinned.
He opened the door for me and I could see that Master Joe had found another hapless victim for his pillory. The firm, muscular butt positioned in an ideal penetration position with the knees of the guy slightly bent outwards. Even in this subdued light, I could see some caning marks on the butt cheeks.
I said hello to Master Joe on his rimming seat, but he didn't bother to answer me from behind his pilot shades. I wasn't even sure if he had noticed me at all.
I started to stroke the hairy butt crack of the victim playfully and admired the strong, shapely body and ran my hand over the hair on his belly and chest. I also properly inspected cock and balls, and was already unzipping my pants, when the rimming slave beckoned me to the other side of the room. "You haven't seen the best part yet.", he smiled. And he was right.
At the other side of the board, I could see Sir's head sticking out of the neck hole. I pulled the head up by the hair to make sure; there was no doubt. I didn't know if I wanted to kiss that deceivingly handsome face or spit in it. But by the look on Sir's face, I don't think it would have made much difference to him anymore.
"It looks like your master has been a bad boy, son.", Master Joe finally spoke, "We had a certain deal about splitting some whore pay and he foolishly tried to hold on to more than his share. So this is how he's paying me back. Feel free to make your own contribution."
He named exactly the same prices as Sir had charged for me. I paid the highest price gladly, my rock-hard cock already throbbing against my jeans.
I positioned myself behind Sir, dropped my pants, put the condom on quickly, pulled his butt cheeks apart and prodded his asshole with the tip of my dick. Sir was still fairly lubricated from his previous customers and – undeterred by his whimpering – I pushed my rod further up his lust tunnel. I screwed him hard and deep, slapping his sore buttocks as I reached my climax all too soon. I felt an immense satisfaction as the sperm made its way into the little rubber container and two full minutes later I pulled my half limp dick and the condom out of that luscious hole. I moved over to the other side of the pillory, my jeans still wrapped around my ankles and cleaned my greasy cock by rubbing it in Sir's beard and hair. I poured the contents of the used rubber out on my hand and smeared it all over his face. Sir only groaned and hung his smelly head.
I pulled my pants back up, nodded goodbye to Master Joe and his faithful slave and left the room a somewhat changed man. Bear Slut Exhibition

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