office-gym-5

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Subject: Office Gym – Part 5 OFFICE GYM (adult-friends, authoritarian, interracial)Author email: yo[dot]cfcf[at][dot]com I appreciate all feedback! Part 5 I could see that I was in Phil’s dining room. Ryan and Andy were seated and chatting as Ryan shuffled a deck of cards, and Andy opened a case of poker chips. Phil smiled as he set down the blindfold and gag. “Sorry about that,” he said. “The guard was right, wouldn’t want you freaking out or running off in this state. Probably the best that we kept you in check.” “Yeah, no worries,” I responded. “Never done that before, but I didn’t mind.” “The precum did suggest that!” Ryan mused from the table. The three guys laughed raucously. I felt my cheeks burning. They weren’t wrong – it was a foreign feeling, and I felt a rush during the whole experience, but I didn’t hate it. I was turned on the entire time. “Speaking of which,” Phil noted, “looks like you’re leaking a bit again.” He looked down at the floor as precum leaked out of my caged dick onto the floor. “Any chance you can clean that up? My hardwood floors are certainly cleaner than that gym floor.” He was right, I suppose – I knelt down and licked up the precum. “Good boy!” Andy exclaimed. I heard a toilet flush from a nearby door and Mike walked out, zipping up his pants. He smiled as he saw me. “Diego’s istanbul travesti here!” I suddenly became very aware that I alone was naked, save for a collar and a chastity device. “Hey, Phil,” I started. “Any chance you have any clothes I can borrow while I’m here?” Phil started to respond, but Andy called out from the table, “everything Phil has is going to be too big on you. Plus, just us guys, right?” The others nodded in agreement. “I suppose that’s right,” Phil said. “Plus, it isn’t too cold in here, is it?” I shook my head. “Then it’s settled!” Mike concluded. “Come join us at the table!” I started towards the table to take a seat, but Ryan interrupted: “Hold on, Phil, these chairs are really nice, Room and Board ones. Wouldn’t want to ruin your purchase from your last bonus, would you? The boy’s sweaty ass and balls wouldn’t do great things to these chairs.” The group laughed. Phil turned to me. “Is that OK? Perhaps you can just stand right next to this table?” I shrugged. “I don’t mind, all I do is sit at a desk anyway.” “Great,” Phil acknowledged. The guys played a first game. Mike won that one. The guys groaned as they handed him their chips. “Great start, I need a beer now!” Mike proclaimed, as he stood up towards the kitchen. “No, I can grab it,” I blurted out. “Really?” he istanbul travestileri asked. “I don’t mind, plus, I’m already standing.” “Thanks, Diego!” Mike gleamed as I turned to grab a beer from the kitchen. As I fumbled through the fridge and looked for a bottle opener, I overheard the guys talking, apparently not realizing I was in earshot. “Is it just me, or is it kind of hot to have a naked guy waiting on you hand and foot?” Phil said. “Yeah, I agree,” Andy responded. “It’s kind of hot that he’s not white, I wouldn’t really feel comfortable with that.” Mike responded, “yeah, I hear you. One, it’s like you have a naked colleague in the room, and two, white guys are hairier, bigger, and have bigger dicks. Doesn’t feel right having them serve you, and I personally don’t get turned on seeing guys like me naked.” Ryan added, “it seems kind of right to have a non-white guy serve you, you know? Especially an Asian guy. They’re smaller, docile, and smooth. Plus, no question who’s the superior man – you can see it in the classic signs of masculinity – our body hair, our larger dicks, et cetera.” I knew I should feel demeaned, but all I could feel was my dick struggling against its cage at hearing all this. I walked back to the dining room. I handed Mike his beer as the guys chatted. “It’s nice travesti istanbul to have someone grab stuff from the kitchen for you,” Mike said, as the others laughed. “Yeah, kind of like having a brown slave boy,” Andy added. Those words startled me, but in a good way – and perhaps in a visible way. “Seems like he likes it,” Ryan said, pointing at my dick. It must have jumped a bit when Andy called me a slave boy. Phil turned to me. “Sorry about that, we’re not racist or anything. We don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Guys, stop.” The guys all murmured apologies. “No, not at all,” I responded. “I don’t mind. I kind of like it. I guess I’m a little submissive, and I like, well, serving white guys.” The guys all looked at each other. “Are you sure?” Ryan asked. “Yes,” I responded. I am here to serve my white masters.” The four looked at each other and smiled. “Well then,” Phil started. “For the rest of your time here, you’ll call us all ‘master.'” “And,” Andy added, “we will call you ‘boy,’ ‘slave,’ or really whatever we want.” The others nodded. “You’ll wear just that collar and that chastity device,” Ryan continued. “Nothing you can do until Monday anyway; Jake has the keys, and the gym doesn’t reopen until then.” The others laughed. “What about a wager, then?” Mike started, looking to the other guys. They began to talk as if I wasn’t there. “Tonight’s poker prize is an Asian slave boy for the weekend – sharing encouraged.” The group laughed. I sheepishly stared at my feet in the background. This was going to be a long weekend, and I was more turned on than ever.

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