3 comments/ 28028 views/ 3 favorites Humbled in Sri Lanka By: slave4servants It was not one of my better days in Sri Lanka. My wife was in England "re-thinking" our marriage following her discovery that I had been exchanging explicit emails and photos with a young masseur we had shared during a short stay at a local beach resort. While she did not mind sharing men with me, she took a very dim view of my having solitary adventures. No matter how much I protested her love to her, she persisted, for some unknown reason, in regarding the men I slept with as a threat to her own position. She never seemed to understand that I wanted them only to satisfy certain physical desires. I had no intention of making any of them a partner. Indeed, I had no interest in any aspect of them except their bodies. To me, they were nothing more than pieces of lovely brown meat that should be honoured to serve and service my large white cock. As if my wife's absence was not bad enough, I had also just dismissed my housemaid and cook after the disappearance of some money from my desk. I had no idea which one of them had taken it so the fairest thing to do was to get rid of them both. The stupid women had, of course, reacted very badly, yelling and crying, first claiming I had made a mistake, then begging me to keep their jobs, then cursing me when they saw I was not to be moved by their appeals. They had both been quite hysterical and were still screaming obscenities at me when I ejected them forcefully through the front gate. Their absence from the house meant that I had to venture to the local market and by my own food for the very first time. Usually, this was the task of my servants or occasionally my wife. I considered such tasks beneath my dignity. To me, the market was a smelly, overcrowded place and I hated having to push through the crowds of sweaty poor people and haggle with the traders. I had a particularly nasty encounter with an elderly man that morning, a tall, bony individual with an arrogance that was quite unsuited to his station. The argument ended with me overturning some of the items on his stall and loudly calling him a cheat and a thief. He called a policeman but I smoothed things over in the usual manner and left him fuming as he cursed me in terms rather similar to those used by my dismissed servants. Once home, I took out my foul mood on my gardening staff. I should explain that I was renting a large house with an equally large garden at that time. It was situated on the edge of the village with no overlooking buildings and high walls around it to ensure absolute privacy. My wife had insisted on it as she liked to sunbathe nude by the pool. Of course, she did not mind the servants seeing her. They did not really count as people. Anyway, the garden consisted of a large lawn with a number of flower beds and several trees. Gardening was my wife's passion and I usually paid it little attention apart from sitting in it. She had told me the names of our gardeners when we first hired them but I had no need to remember them as she was the one who issued their orders. On that particular day, only one was on duty, watering the lawn with a hose in a manner which was, quite frankly, lacklustre. He was around thirty, tall and muscular with a broad chest, his hands and limbs grown strong from years of manual labour. He was definitely not my type though. I liked smooth-skinned young men from the cities and the coast, not rough-hewn labourers with missing teeth. The other man in the garden, a local man brought in to trim the coconut palms (he was clambering up one at that very moment) was even less the kind of man who filled my fantasies. Dark and wiry, he was almost 40 and there was nothing attractive about his almost naked body except his well-defined muscles. That had never been enough for a man of my refined tastes. As I have said, I was already in a foul mood. The sight of my gardener only half-heartedly attending to his duties only served to anger me further. Planting myself in front of him I began to berate him in English (I had no idea how much of the language he knew), wagging my finger at him and threatening him with the same fate as my other servants. He just looked at me in a most curious manner which I took to be stupidity. I stepped closer and he lifted his hose in surprise, wetting my T-shirt in the process. I swore at him but he seemed to have difficulty understanding me. By the time he removed the hose, my T-shirt was completely soaked through. Angrily, I pulled off my shirt and threw it onto the ground. I was fuming but the gardener did not seem at all repentant. Quite the opposite in fact; he was smiling. Smiling and looking at my naked torso with what could only be described as unadulterated lust. I should know. I had worn that exact same expression when the masseur had first stripped naked for me. The thought that this uneducated peasant was interested in my body was both flattering and distasteful. I had no wish to lower myself to consorting with the likes of him. My response was, therefore, to step even closer to the impertinent lout and shout louder at him. He simply laughed and turned the hose on my crotch. In a matter of moments, my shorts were as wet as my shirt had been. Still shouting, I backed away from the force of the water. The gardener followed me every step of the way, never lifting the water jet from my shorts. I turned my back on him to spare my cock and balls from the stinging effect of his attack. That only gave him the opportunity to hose down my arse cheeks. My shorts were completely soaked now and they were clinging to me in a most uncomfortable manner which, combined with the force of the water was almost painful. Since the gardener gave no indication of wanting to end his assault, there was only one way in which I could relieve myself. Bending over and presenting my arse towards the gardener, I pulled off my shorts. The moment I was naked and vulnerable, the gardener cast his hose aside. Turning back to face him, I saw him running his eyes up and down my lily white body and grinning lasciviously. His gaze rested on my shrivelled cock and he first laughed the closed his fist and started moving it up and down rapidly. It was obvious what he wanted me to do. Indignant, I refused, shaking my head and telling him so in blunt language. Instantly, his expression changed to one of pure aggression and he made a threatening position with his balled fist. For a moment, I considered fighting him but it was a ridiculous notion, He was much stronger than me. Indeed, apart from his teeth, he was much superior physically. My whole dominion over him had been based on my wealth and social standing. Now, standing there naked before him, all those advantages were gone. He was the man in charge. In many ways, he was the man. I began to slowly stroke my cock, doing my best to make it as hard as I could under the circumstances. The gardener's eyes were firmly fixed on it now and his hand was under his sarong. Obviously he was playing with his own cock. As I have already mentioned, I have always been proud of my own rather large appendage and I now decided that I would make my cock grow as large as possible in order to both impress my unwanted lover and to re-establish my superiority and therefore my dominance over him. After all, I had yet to see any Sri Lankan cock which could match mine for length and girth. It did not occur to me until later that when I was stroking my cock so hard, I was doing it for the approval of the gardener. I wanted him to acknowledge its superior size, yes, but above all I wanted him to see me in all my glory. When I was dangerously close to cumming, I looked questioningly at the gardener. Clearly, he had other plans for my cum because he signalled me to lift my hand from cock. A moment later, he untied his sarong and let it drop to the ground. I had been slightly taken aback by his lack of surprise at the size of my cock and now I understood why. His cock was just as impressive. Shorter it may have been but it was a good bit thicker than mine. It was the largest cock I had ever seen on any Sri Lankan. All my hopes of re-establishing my dominance vanished. I knew now that I was the weaker man. Still, at least fucking the gardener would not be altogether unpleasant. He may have been ugly but his muscles were beautifully sculpted and from what I could see of his buttocks, his arse was rock hard. Smiling weakly, I pointed to my cock and gestured to him to step forward and suck it. To my complete and utter surprised, he scowled at me and shook his head then pointed to his own cock. It had never occurred to me he would want me to suck him. I had never sucked a local man. They sucked me and then I fucked them. That was how it worked. I was a man, not a woman. I gave, they received and no-one was left in any doubt as to who the dominant partner was. The thought of first sucking and then being fucked by brown cock, especially the brown cock of an ignorant servant was repugnant to me, at least mentally. My cock, on the other hand seemed excited by the prospect. As I pictured the gardener's thick cock entering my white arse, it gave a little jerk. I blushed bright red and the gardener laughed. He pointed to the ground then gestured towards his cock and snapped his fingers. I decided it was best not to keep him waiting any longer. Falling to my knees, I crawled submissively to his feet and knelt beneath his erect cock. The gardener snapped his fingers again and I leaped into action. Taking his cock in both hands I kissed and licked its tip then ran my tongue over every inch of its shaft, worshipping it so diligently that it fairly glistened with moist saliva. That, done, I turned my attention to his balls, kissing and licking them too before sucking them in my mouth. I even gave his arse a little lick even though its smell was less than appealing. Lifting my head again, I then began to suck on his cock, taking it further inside my mouth and throat with every bob of my head. It was not a very easy task. As I have already said, the cock was very thick and it was a tight fit in my mouth. I even choked a couple of times which made the gardener laugh. I began to worry about taking the cock in my arse but that only spurred me to work harder. The wetter I could make it, I reasoned, the less painful my fucking would be. I had just taken the whole shaft in my mouth and was starting to suck faster when I felt the gardener's broad hands on my head. It seemed he did not want me to speed up, just to suck at a steady, gentle pace. Obviously, he was saving all his cum to christen my arse. I had no objection and allowed him to guide me in whatever way he desired. As he did so, my hands set to work fondling his balls and stroking his arse cheeks. I found them incredibly strong and firm. It was the sort of arse that radiated strength and made my own buttocks, which I had previously considered firm, seem decidedly flabby. Without a word, the gardener lifted his hands from my head, placed one on my neck, and spun me round. It was time for my fucking. Resting on my hands and knees, I lifted my arse and presented it to him. I felt his rough hands pry my cheeks apart and then he spat three times directly onto my arsehole and rubbed his saliva into it. That and the saliva I had expended on his cock were the only lubricant I was to receive. A moment later, I felt the tip of the gardener's cock press against my entrance and then it was inside me. A few gentle pushes later, I had accepted half the shaft. A few harder strokes after that and I had swallowed the monster whole. It was not the first cock I had taken, although it was the first brown one, but it was the thickest. I was grateful the gardener had been so gentle with me. Even so, it was painful and I am afraid I cried out. The gardener responded by slapping my arse hard and muttering some words which I did not recognise but whose meaning was clear. I did not protest again. The gardener began to fuck me faster but he soon slowed again. I wondered why until I realised he was angry with my performance. "You are woman now." he said, leaning over me and using the first English words I had heard him speak. "You fuck me like woman or you make me angry!" I apologised and began to act more as he wished me to. For some reason, I had started to forget how unwilling I was to be his sex toy and was more interested in making sure I satisfied him. He had threatened me, of course, but the way I responded to his touch and his instructions was less because I was afraid of him and more because of a much more powerful emotion. Lifting my arse up higher, I began to rub it against his balls and thighs. Then, once he started fucking me again, I made sure that every single one of his strokes was matched by a reciprocal movement of my arse, ensuring that his cock was always as deep inside me as possible. The faster he went, however, the more difficult it became to keep up with him. I did what I considered to be a pretty good job of pleasing him, nonetheless. He certainly came fast enough when he finally pulled his cock out of me, threw me onto my back and shot jet after jet of cum into my mouth and onto my face. He had fucked me on all fours as if I was an animal and now he was marking me as an animal would mark its property. "Eat!" he snarled, then looked down at me and laughed heartily as I scooped his cum from my face and greedily licked it from my fingers. "Up!" he ordered and I rose to my knees. He patted my head as if I was a dog. "You are very bad man but very good fuck. Your cunt just like a woman's." "Thank you!" I smiled, strangely proud, despite myself, to have won such praise from him. "You were very good also, very strong. You are a real man, not like me." He grinned. Apparently he too liked to be praised . "May I know your name?" I asked "I am ashamed to say I have forgotten it. Please forgive me." His face darkened and for a moment I thought he might strike me but it seemed he was only thinking. "My name" he said eventually "is Sir." He pointed to his feet and I bent down and kissed them as a mark of respect and submission. When I looked up again, he was grinning from ear to ear. Only a short time I would have been furious to be humiliated in such a way by a mere servant. Now, I simply ejaculated. Sir jumped back as the cum blasted his leg and sandals but he did not get angry. I suppose he saw it as a tribute to his superior manhood. Perhaps it was. I had lost all understanding of what was happening to my emotions and my body. "Eat!" he commanded and I licked every trace of my cum from his strong brown body. "Good." he said "Now you fuck again. Fuck good like before." "Are you ready again so quickly?" I said in surprise as his cock was still flaccid "You really are a great man!" Sir laughed, pleased by my compliment. "Not me. My friend. He want white man too much." He pointed to where the other worker was now sitting naked under a coconut tree, stroking his cock and smiling. He looked hideous. "Please, no!" I said, looking imploringly at Sir "You are a great man, a strong man but he is an ugly man, dark and ugly not beautiful and brown like you. I don't want to fuck him!" Sir's face grew angry. "Listen good!" he said threateningly, lowering his head and pressing his face against mine "You not boss man now. You just meat, white meat for Sri Lankan men. I am boss man. I say, you do or you sorry. You understand?" "Yes sir." I said, trembling fearfully. "I am sorry sir." "Come!" barked Sir, standing up and starting to walk towards his friend. I stood up and he halted in his tracks. "No! You not walk on two legs. You not man now, you animal. You walk like animal now. You walk on four legs." So it was that I crawled rather than walked to the feet of the man who would fuck me next. I crawled like a dog and like a dog my hardening cock swung between my legs as I did so. I had expected the tree man to simply give me a quick fuck but he proved rather more creative than that, much to my discomfort. He did not even allow me to suck on his long but thin cock. Instead, I was made to stand at the foot of the coconut tree while he clambered back up it. "Look!" said Sir, pointing upwards and I looked up to see the tree man's black arse directly above me, He was straddling the tree in such a way that his arsehole was plainly visible. Sir smiled and said something and then the tree man started to move again only this time he began to descend. Instinctively I stepped back but Sir pushed me against the tree again. "Master coming home." he said "Welcome Master with kiss like good wife." Looking back up at the gaping black arsehole, it was clear what he meant. I held up my trembling arms and the tree man lowered his arse right into them. He was thinner than Sir but his muscles were just as solid. He slid down lower still. My hands rested on his thighs. I craned my neck upwards and kissed both buttocks then licked round the rim of his hole. The tree man gave a little whoop of delight and lowered himself onto my tongue. He smelled and tasted disgusting but I was too afraid of the consequences to try and run away now. So, abandoning whatever pride I had left, I started to lick him out as hard as I could. "Good!" smiled Sir and then walked away, leaving us alone. The tree man was still holding onto the tree with remarkable upper body strength but gradually he was lowering himself down. Every time he did so, I had to bend lower down in order to keep pleasuring his dirty opening. Finally, his feet reached the ground and he stood with his feet on either side of the tree, his arse pressing into my face while I sat on my own arse, my legs splayed on either side of his. Now I had to begin my work in earnest. Prying his arse cheeks apart, I buried my tongue inside him and licked away furiously. He reached back and took one of my soft hands in his and placed it on his wiry cock and without receiving a single command, I began to wank it. This went on until my new "husband's cock was as hard as his other muscles. Standing, he grinned lustfully down at me and then walked around behind me. He snapped something at me in Sinhalese. Although I could not understand his words, they could have only one meaning. Clambering quickly onto all fours, I spread my legs and offered him my arse. He was on me in an instant. His cock was thinner and shorter than Sir's but he used no lubrication and he had none of the latter's concern or gentility. He fucked me hard and he fucked me fast, pounding me with such ruthless energy that I was almost knocked off my limbs. Already tired from my previous fucking on all fours, I found that I had to grab hold of the tree for support. This only seemed to excite my fucker even more. He had a great deal of stamina but eventually he too tired. Pulling his cock from my pain filled arse, he did the same as Sir had, spraying my face with his cum and making me eat it. He found it hilarious that I came myself as soon as I tasted his load and made me lick up the drops which had landed on his body. Sir had returned by now. He called his friend to him and they sat side by side eating some local snack, chatting and laughing and occasionally pointing at me to the accompaniment of even more laughter. They did not think to offer me any food, not that I would have taken it of course. They just left me to lie, exhausted on the ground like a discarded piece of meat while they went on with their daily lives. To be honest, I was too tired to care. I had also given up trying to analyse my appalling reactions to that morning's traumatic events. I just wanted to be left alone to sleep and recover. I should have known it was a forlorn hope. "Up!" said Sir, kicking me lightly in the ribs just as I closed my eyes. "Please!" I groaned "I'll give you money, anything. Please just leave me alone." Humbled in Sri Lanka Ch. 02 "Not so high and mighty now are you, you white dog?" asked the trader. His English was flawless but he was chewing some betel nut (I could see the red juices dribbling from his mouth as he spoke) and his pronunciation was not altogether clear. "No sir." I said as humbly as I could. He laughed harshly then cleared his throat spat out the juices which had by now almost filled his mouth. They landed on my face and some even fell inside my own mouth. I was on the verge of spitting them out when the trader shot me an angry glance. Reluctantly, I swallowed both the juice and the thick phlegm that was mixed within it. The trader laughed uproariously as I gagged and so did a strange voice behind me. The trader said something in Sinhala and a few moments later the stranger, a thin, bespectacled young man of some twenty odd years, appeared at his side carrying one of my lawn chairs. He set it down on the grass and the trader sat down on it. "Are you starting to learn your place now?" he asked "Yes sir." I answered "My place is beneath you and all Sri Lankans. I was wrong to consider myself your superior and treat you so badly. It is you who are my betters and I deserve to be treated accordingly." "Fine words," sneered the trader "but can you live up to them?" "I will try my very best sir." I replied pathetically. "Then you may start by providing me with a small service." he said "Your wet garden has made my sandals very dirty. They are covered in mud for which you are responsible. You will clean them for me. Now!" "But I am still tied up!"I protested "Besides, I have no water or cloth!" "You have a tongue, don't you?" snapped the trader "Your mouth is so used to uttering filthy words to Sri Lankans that it won't notice a little more dirt inside it." Ignoring the silent pleading of my eyes, he lifted up his right foot and I began to lick off the filth that covered its sole; mud and grass and I knew not what else. The taste was foul and fouler still were the sensations I felt when I swallowed some of it. I almost threw up on the spot and found I could no longer continue licking. Needless to say, the trader was far from pleased. In fact, he was furious. "You disgusting white dog!" he shrieked "How dare you refuse my orders! How dare you turn your head away from my majestic Sri Lankan foot? You still think you are better than me, don't you scum? It seems you need to be taught your lesson the old-fashioned way." He stood up and began to unbuckle his thick, leather belt. Unlike the others who had abused me that day he was wearing western rather than traditional clothes. "Please sir!" I whimpered "Don't hit me! Let me try again! Please sir!" His answer was a stroke of the belt across my face which made me cry out in pain. He laughed and walked behind me till he was out of sight. "Your begging is a waste of time." he informed me "I am not a merciful man. You had your chance and you threw it away. Now you will suffer the consequences of your foolish pride." The belt lashed my back again and once more I cried out. It rose and fell a further eighteen times, striking my arse, my back, my legs and my arms, but even though I literally screamed in agony neither Sir nor anyone else came to my assistance. As for the young stranger, I was puzzled to see him moving constantly around me and to see also that he was taking photographs of my ordeal. The pain I was suffering prevented me from considering the matter any further. I was sobbing loudly by the time the trader had finished beating me but I was still able to hear the words he spoke to me from my chair, the chair that he had made his throne. "I don't know why you are crying so loudly." he said "I did not hurt you that badly. You will be bruised for several days but your owner was very insistent that I do not break your skin. He said your customers might not pay as much for damaged goods. I suppose he's right but it is a pity. By the way," he gestured towards the young man who grinned at me "this is our village photographer. He will be staying with you for some time, recording your adventures. The whole village is keen to use or rather abuse the arrogant white man who lorded it over them for so long. They will pay to see what others have done to you and so, I am sure, will internet viewers. You could become a star in the local market. Perhaps you could be sold to a brothel in Colombo. There are many who would pay handsomely for a willing white whore, particularly if he came as part of a couple." I was horrified beyond words. "P..p..please!" I stammered eventually "Please don't do that! I'll pay you anything you want! Please don't put me on the internet or sell me to a whorehouse!" "Unfortunately, that is not my decision to make." smirked the trader "It is your owner who will decide your ultimate fate. I advise you to be the best whore and slave you can be in order to win his favour otherwise you will find yourself in the hands of someone much worse than him. In the meantime, the photos my friend here takes will ensure you never ever think of trying to escape from your new life." "You will never need to use them." I grovelled "I will be a good slave for my Sri Lankan masters. I promise I will!" "We will see." smiled the trader "Now open your mouth wide. I have a better use for it than talking." Pulling down his zip, he pulled out his long, thin cock and I prepared to receive it gratefully in my mouth as I had done the others that day. To my surprise, the trader held his cock only inches from my face but he did not force it inside my mouth. "I am not gay." he said with a sneer, replying to my questioning gaze "I have no desire to have any man suck my cock, especially not a filthy white dog like you. No, my cock has only one use for you; as a urinal." With those words he proceeded to piss on my face, filling my mouth with acrid yellow liquid that ran down my chin when I failed to swallow it fast enough to take another mouthful. This made my tormentor laugh and he then proceeded to soak the rest of my face and hair before shaking off the last few drops of his piss into my eyes. The photographer recorded the whole humiliating event and laughed so hard that he almost pissed himself. "Goodbye for now my little white piss-drinker." smiled the trader "My time with you today is over. I will be back again though. There are many lessons you still have to learn." I started to cry again and he and the photographer responded with mocking laughter. I was still crying long after the trader had left and Sir had washed the piss from my face and hair with the hose. "No cry." said Sir, untying my bonds "Sir put cream on your body, make pain go away. You rest then. You have much work tonight. Special guests coming for dinner and they need good servant. You make them happy, you make Sir very happy. You like that, yes?" "Yes Sir!" I replied and I was not lying. Making Sir, the man I had so arrogantly thought of as only an ignorant gardener, happy really did make me happy as well. I crawled behind Sir as he walked towards my house. He did not even have to command me. Acting as his dog had, in only a few hours, become second nature to me. Sir led me to what had once been the maid's room. "You sleep here now." Sir informed me "This servant room. This your room. Sir sleep in master's bed now." Who was I to disagree. He truly was the master now and I was his lowly servant. As he had promised, Sir rubbed balm all over my aching body. He was remarkably gentle as he applied the cream, treating me almost lovingly or at least so I imagined. I knew he was merely protecting his investment, looking after his livestock but whenever our eyes met, I found myself wishing he would kiss me. It never happened of course. I was nothing to him but a piece of white meat, a fuck-toy to be used and discarded at will. How could a real man like him ever have feelings for something like me? "Sleep now!" said Sir, rising to his feet "You work hard later." He pointed to a metal bed with a painfully thin mattress, the bed I had bought for the maid I had dismissed and which I had considered too good for her. I hauled myself onto it and even though it was the most uncomfortable bed I had ever lain in, I fell asleep within a minute so exhausted was I after all my exertions that day. It was after dark when Sir woke me. "Wash face and go to kitchen." he ordered "Guests at table and want food now." I made my way to the maid's toilet, urinated and washed my face. Then, still naked, I walked to the kitchen. I was astonished to find the cook I had dismissed that morning, a large handsome-faced woman of around forty five years of age, stood in her usual place beside the cooker. She was preparing some sort of curry dish. She turned and looked angrily at me and I found myself at a loss for words. Frankly, after the way I had treated her that morning, I was too terrified of the revenge she might now take on me to say anything. In the event, I was spared the trouble. She had no interest in scolding me or conversing with me. She simply wanted to use me. "Floor!" she barked and I fell instantly to my knees. The cook lifted up her skirt and exposed her big, broad arse to me. "No water in toilet. You clean instead. You know how, piss-drinker." It seemed the trader had lost no time in broadcasting my new skill around the village. It seemed also that I was about to add another skill to my repertoire because, disgusting though the task I had been assigned was, I was powerless to refuse it. Without a word, I shuffled forward on my knees, prised the cook's thick arse cheeks apart and stuck my face between her crack. The smell was not a pleasant one. As she had so honestly admitted, she needed to be cleaned. Forcing myself not to gag or withdraw too prematurely, I now proceeded to force my tongue inside her arsehole and start licking up the debris inside, I did not swallow it. I merely gathered it in my mouth then carried on licking. It was obvious to me that the cook very much appreciated my attentions. The deeper inside her I licked, the more she swayed her arse and groaned with rising excitement. "Fingers!" she gasped "Fingers inside now!" I lifted my hand and reached for her hairy pussy, gently stroking her hairs and then her labia before pushing first one and then two fingers inside her and tickling her surprisingly large clit. The finger fucking I was giving her pussy and the licking I was giving her arse sent the cook into a frenzy of ecstasy. So hard did her arse slam back against my face that I feared I would fall over and I wondered if I would be carrying new bruises when I woke up the next morning. My fingers, meanwhile, felt as if they were being swallowed alive so fiercely did her vagina suck at them. I knew it would not be long before she came to orgasm and I was right. It was only moments later that my fingers were covered in the warmth of her juices and her body began to shudder. I found myself pushed away from her arse and took the opportunity to wash out my mouth in the sink. The cook did not object. She was too lost in her own little world of pleasure. I knelt back down and waited for her to regain control of herself. It took some time but eventually she turned to me with a smile on her face. "You are a very good arse licker." she said slowly and deliberately as if she had rehearsed the words "You make Madame very happy. Sir will be pleased." "Thank you Madame." I replied, bowing my head. Madame. The word almost stuck in my throat. Sir had proved himself my superior. This woman, a woman who had most likely stolen from me had not. Indeed, even though I had licked her arse clean, I still thought of her as a rude and insolent servant rather than a Lady on a par with my beautiful wife. It was a simple act of kindness that changed my opinion of her in an instant. "When dog is good he get a treat." said the cook, gazing into my eyes "You very good dog. You get nice treat from Madame." She sat down on a chair and let her sari and undergarments fall from her shoulders to reveal the largest pair of breasts I had seen in a long time. They were easily double the size of my wife's. They must have been truly glorious when the cook was a young woman and they were still magnificent even though they were sagging. "You like?" asked the cook even though my cock had already answered for me "Yes Madame." I breathed, unable to lift my eyes from her massive mammaries. "Then come here doggy." she smiled "Come and suck Madame's big titties!" Where she had learned such a word I did not know but hearing it made my cock leap to attention. Madame's smile grew even broader. Madame indicated that I was to sit on her broad thighs and I did so. Then, lifting up each of her huge breasts in turn, I sucked on them greedily, licking and biting her thick nipples till they turned the brightest brown imaginable and throbbed as hard as my cock. Madame closed her eyes and once more began to sway from side to side as pleasure consumed her. Her chubby hand reached out and seized my cock and I offered no resistance as she began to first stroke and then pump it with ever increasing speed and energy. She was in the throes of her own orgasm when I came inside her hand. She smeared the cum over her breasts, paying particular attention to her nipples and I licked and sucked every last drop of it up. It was, I believe, the touch of my mouth on her nipples that final time that drove her to her third orgasm of the evening. "So good!" she murmured, rocking back and forth while she cradled me against her breasts "You make Madame feel so good." I am not sure why I said what I said next but I said it anyway. "Your name is not Madame." "No!" she responded angrily, lifting me upright while gripping my arms tightly "I am Madame now!" "No." I said quietly "Your name is not Madame. Your name is Goddess!" She laughed softly and then did the most remarkable thing. Pulling me towards her, she kissed me long and hard upon the lips and even tongue-fucked me gently. Yes, my Goddess actually kissed ME, the lowest of the low, a mere piss-drinking arse-cleaner. She truly was divine to be so generous to one who had treated her so appallingly. I am not ashamed to say that tears came to my eyes as I realised that from that moment on I would be as devoted to her happiness as I was to Sir's. We were woken from our reverie by a cry of "Food!" from the direction of the dining room. I stood up and Goddess quickly readjusted her clothing to once more cover her beautiful breasts. Filling three plates on a tray with food, she passed the tray to me and ordered me to serve the guests their first course. There was no tenderness in her voice now, She had reverted once again to her rightful role as mistress of the house. As I left her side, however, she sent me on my way with a playful smack on my arse. I was not surprised to see the photographer sitting at the table. I had recognised his voice when he called for the food. I was more than surprised, indeed I was shocked, when I saw the other two guests. They were beggars, an old man and woman who regularly squatted outside my gate in the hope of attracting some loose change or scraps of food. I had never given them any of course. I had always been of the firm opinion that the more you gave to such people, the more you would have to keep on giving. They would never leave you in peace and would bring others of their kind to your home in the hope of sharing their luck. They had much in common with vermin and that was how I regarded them; human vermin but vermin none the less. I had lost count of the number of times I had driven them away from my gate only to have them return the next day. Even calling the police and loosing my dog on them had had no effect. In the end, refusing to let them continue to annoy me, I had simply closed my eyes to them and they had melted away into the background as if they truly were invisible. Now, however, they could not be ignored. They were in my home, sitting at my table and they were expecting me to wait on them hand and foot. Beggars, filthy common beggars were expecting me to serve them! I had almost reconciled myself to being a slave for Sri Lankans but there were limits even to that commitment and this was one of them. My face flushed with anger, I turned on my heels and started to walk back towards the kitchen but as I did so the photographer leaped from his seat and grabbed my arm. "Not so fast!" he said in a low voice "You have insulted your guests by turning your back on them. I suggest you apologise right now or you will be very sorry." "They are not guests!" I hissed angrily "They are scum, worthless lowlife scum who contribute nothing to society. They are nothing more than parasites and I will not serve the likes of them in my own house!" "They are not scum, they are Sri Lankans." the young man replied calmly "That automatically makes them your superiors whatever their station in life. You should be honoured to serve them in whatever way they demand. As for this being your house, you forget that it now your owner's. You live on here merely as his slave or his pet. You are nothing more than a kind of dog and since your guests are humans that too is another reason why they are better than you. Now apologise to your betters or I shall call your owner and he will punish you in front of them. Remember too that I also have some very interesting photos in my collection which I am sure your friends and colleagues would love to see." I was not convinced by his arguments but his threats were very real. Placing the tray on the table, I crouched down on all fours and crawled to the feet of each beggar in turn, kissing their dusty callouses and loudly begging their forgiveness. They did not understand my words, of course, but they appreciated the sentiment and signalled that they did indeed forgive me by each patting me on the head as they would have any obedient dog. The old man said something to me in Sinhala and his wife and the photographer laughed. "He said he is very impressed by your show of respect for him and his wife," the photographer translated "but that you had better hurry up and serve the food now. He and his wife are both very hungry and they can't wait to taste their delicious white meat!" I said nothing. Instead I bowed my head and served the beggars their food before standing to attention behind them in case they wished to issue me with any instructions. "Stand closer to them." said the photographer, translating for the old man "They want to play with you while they eat." Reluctantly, I moved forward so that I stood between them. Immediately, the old woman placed one hand on my cock and started jerking it while she continued eating with her other hand. The old man, meanwhile, gently stroked my arse before tickling my arsehole with his bony finger. "He likes your bottom very much." said the photographer cum translator who now had his camera trained on me "He says it is firm but soft, just like a woman's. He has always wanted to fuck a white woman like your wife but your arse will be the next best thing to a real cunt. As for his wife, she says she never imagined that an ugly, arrogant bastard like you could have such a beautiful big cock. She can hardly wait till she feels it inside her." I shuddered. Kissing the feet of these common beggars had been bad enough and even now I flinched at their touch. Being fucked by them would be the most degrading, humiliating experience of my life. Just thinking about it made my stomach churn. My cock, however, was growing longer and thicker with every passing moment and my arse was moving back and forth in tandem with the old man's finger. My mind may be desperately trying to deny it but my body had become that of a whore. Humbled in Sri Lanka Ch. 02 My Goddess booming voice informed me that the next course was ready and I hurried to fetch it, receiving a pinch on my arse from the cook as I filled the tray a second time. The old woman noticed the red mark as soon as I took my place by her side. She said something to her husband then both started laughing, exposing their rotten black and yellow teeth to my disgusted view. The beggars were too engrossed in eating the curry now to pay my body much attention. It was obvious they had not eaten well for months, perhaps even years. I could not blame them for focussing so greedily on their food yet I found myself strangely upset, even offended, that they were no longer interested in playing with me. Upset? Upset that two ugly old beggars did not want to molest me? What the hell was wrong with me? I should be glad to escape their clutches not sad and disappointed. I had to be sick in the head to feel the way I was feeling right now. The old woman touched my cock lightly and pointed to the floor. I knelt and she scooped up a piece of meat in her hand and offered it to my mouth. Gratefully, I ate the meat and licked her fingers clean, all the while looking up into her kindly eyes. At that moment, I felt as happy as any pet would to receive a treat from his kindly mistress. The woman said something to her husband and then put some of her food into a small bowl and placed it on the floor in front of me. A moment later, her husband placed a bowl of water beside it. Falling onto all fours, I ate up all the food and lapped up all the water just as any good dog would. As I did so, I began to cry, touched beyond measure by the kindness of the beggars. They were enjoying their first proper meal for years but they had still found it in their heart to share their food with a man they should have despised above all others, a man who, only a few hours earlier would not have cared one jot if they had both starved to death by the roadside. They truly were better people than I could ever hope to be. They truly were my superiors. The old woman lifted up my head and brushed away my tears as she whispered soothing words of comfort, Leaning forward, she kissed me on the forehead and in that moment, I knew that I was going to do my very best that night to give her and her husband the pleasure they deserved. My body would be theirs and I would give it to them willingly. I could do no less for those I had treated so terribly. The old couple stood up and started walking upstairs. I crawled behind them, once more falling naturally into my role of dog. The photographer followed, clicking away on his camera. Once we reached one of my guest rooms, the old couple stripped off their clothes and looked down at me. As they talked to the photographer, I ran my eyes over their bodies. They were very dark-skinned from long years of exposure to the wind and sun and their hair had long ago turned grey. Both wore their hair short, presumably because it was easier to keep it clean that way. They were very thin (I could see some of their bones) but wiry with strong looking limbs. The old man's cock seemed quite small while his wife's pussy was covered in fine grey hairs. As for her breasts, they were little more than dried-out flaps of leather with wizened nipples. Once, they would have been repulsive to me but knowing that they belonged to one of the sweetest, most generous people I had ever met now made them strangely attractive. "Turn around." said the photographer I obeyed and found myself staring directly at his erect cock. "Your guests are very generous people." he informed me "Even though you were given to them for the night, they insist that you pleasure me before they fuck you. I should tell you that, unlike my friend the trader, I prefer to have sex with men. I paid my way through college by giving blow jobs to white tourists for money. I never dreamed that one day I would be able to have my cock sucked by a white whore." Perhaps because of his previous occupation, the photographer proved to be a considerate lover, fucking me gently and ensuring I did not choke on his long cock. In return, I sucked him hard while teased his balls and fingered his arse until I felt him stiffen and tasted his pre-cum. Giving him a final long suck, I opened my mouth wide and swallowed very last drop of the delicious cum he blasted down my throat. My cheeks swelled with genuine pride as the beggars applauded my efforts and rubbed my hair approvingly. How glad I was that they had been so generous in sharing me! I was gladder still that I had not let them down. "Your mouth is pure gold slut." smiled the photographer putting way his cock "You will make the old couple very happy." He said something to the beggars and they grinned. "I am supposed to film you all night," he said, returning his attention to me "but I think you have earned the right to some privacy." With those words, he left the room and closed the door behind him. I turned back toward the beggars, ready now to give them my full attention. I found that they had not spent all their time watching me suck the photographer of. In fact, they had been quite busy. Two large towels had been placed side by side on the queen size bed and beside them lay an assortment of massage oils which the beggars must have pilfered from the master bathroom earlier that evening. The old man pointed to them and then to himself and his wife. I understood his instructions immediately. I nodded my head and, smiling, the two beggars lay face down on the towels. I had given my wife numerous massages over the years but none had lasted as long as the ones I now gave the old couple. Their flesh was so dry with age that it was like trying to soften leather. I had to use copious amounts of oil and deep pressure to bring any sense of moisture and life back to their dark skins. It was hard work but an enjoyable task nonetheless. It allowed me to worship every inch of their bodies and worship them with my mouth as I did so. I must have kissed every inch of them as I worked, gently tracing the lines of every wrinkle and fold and licking and sucking every one of their bumps and growths. I ate out both their hard arses too before massaging them as soft as their bony frames would allow. Their feet, the very first part of them I had been allowed to touch, I found to be dry and cracked as well as bruised. I could only hope that the kisses with which I showered them and the oils in which I bathed them would go some way in helping them recover their true beauty. Once the old couple rolled over onto their backs, I repeated the same process on their chests and stomachs and was gratified to feel the old woman's painfully thin breasts begin to feel a little fuller as my fingers kneaded and stroked them. Her nipples too began to swell under my delicate touch and I heard her gasp in both surprise and excitement. Encouraged, I suckled both her breasts and nibbled gently on her now erect nipples. She responded by giving a sharp cry of pleasure and I felt her chest heave as her breathing grew faster and deeper. I spent a long time working on both their thighs, stroking them, kissing them and massaging them lovingly but forcefully before finally placing my hand and mouth on the glorious objects at their centre. The old woman grew even more excited now as I teased her labia with my moist fingers before gently pulling her lips apart and pushing a finger inside to stroke her clit. Then, as I rubbed my finger on the nub of her clit, I knelt and first kissed and then licked every inch of her outer pussy before letting my tongue join my finger and start to lap at her centre of pleasure. The old woman's cries were louder now and growing more frenzied as her body began to squirm and buck under my touch. How long, I wondered, was it, since she had known true pleasure at the hands of an adoring man. Perhaps she had never known it, having only been the recipient of a few cursory strokes from her husband before he achieved his own pleasure and withdrew his cock from her body before she was satisfied. It was a fantasy of course. I had no way of knowing what had passed between the old couple during their lives. I simply wanted to believe that I had the honour of being the most devoted worshipper she had ever encountered. Slowly, I withdrew my now wet finger and took her clit fully within my mouth, sucking it first slowly then fast then slowly again as I adjusted the pressure of my lips upon it. Her gyrations were increasing now and it seemed she was only able to steady herself by gripping my head tightly and pressing it harder against her pussy. She was making ever louder noises too, moaning and groaning between her cries. I would never have imagined that a woman who looked so quiet and demure when I first saw her would be so noisy and energetic when it came to sex. She was probably the most responsive woman I had ever pleasured. She was certainly much more active than my wife had been these past few years. The inside of her pussy was becoming increasingly wet now and I could sense that she would soon reach her orgasm. I placed my mouth more fully over her clit and gave it a gentle bite. Her body shuddered and I took another nibble. She yelled inarticulately and I felt the warmth of her juices flood into her pussy and onto my face. She was out of control, now thrashing around the bed while still holding me tight against her. I am afraid that her poor husband had to get off the bed in case she hit him, she was so wild. After some time, however, she quietened down and her breathing grew more regular. I was released from her grip and stood up beside her husband. I saw him grinning and looking down at my cock. It was rock hard and fully erect. I grinned sheepishly and looked towards the old woman. She too was smiling as she observed the effect her pleasure had had on my cock. Crooking her finger, she signalled me to bend down so she could give me another reward for my hard work. Placing her chapped lips on mine, she kissed me long and hard while her tongue reached into my mouth, tickling its roof and my teeth before reaching past them towards my throat. I responded in kind, revelling in how hot her mouth was. Only a short time ago I had thought it disgusting so stained and discoloured were her teeth. Now I found it as beautiful and exciting as the rest of her aging yet lively body. The old woman did not touch my cock while we kissed. She did not want to risk my exploding prematurely and depriving her of the pleasure she intended to extract from it. It was excited nevertheless, jumping up and down from time to time. It took a supreme effort of will on my part to bring it back under control and keep my cum inside my balls. The old man coughed loudly and his wife and I broke off our kiss and looked at him. He was lying on the bed once more and pointing impatiently to his own groin. We all three laughed, the old woman gave me a quick peck on my cheek and then I knelt between her husband's legs and resumed my massage. The reaction of the old woman to my touch had brought me almost as much pleasure as I had given her. The reaction of the old man, however, brought me only soul-crushing disappointment. No matter how firmly I stroked his cock, no matter how hard I sucked it, no matter how skilfully I licked his balls or massaged his prostrate, his cock barely stirred from its flaccid state. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. I had failed. I had failed the old man, I had failed Sir and I had failed myself. The old man had shown me unexpected and undeserved kindness and all I had been asked to do in return was give him the respect and pleasure he deserved but I was so useless and pathetic that I had failed even to do that. At that moment, I felt I was the most worthless creature alive. Looking up at the old couple, my face burning with shame, I began, yet again, to cry. The old woman, who had been squatting on the edge of the bed watching us, shot an angry glance at her husband. He looked suddenly shamefaced and said something to her in a low voice. She responded by punching him on the shoulder. A pained expression on his face, he rubbed it then stood up and walked over to a cupboard. As his wife cradled me against her breasts, I saw him pick up a small box. He took something from it then walked back to me and showed me what was in his hand. It was a small blue pool. He pointed to it and then to his cock and then he laughed. I smiled as I understood. He was unable to get an erection without the help of Viagra. I was not to blame for his lack of response to my attentions. He had simply failed to take his tablet. I cannot tell you how relieved I felt. The old man swallowed the pill and then, perhaps by way of apology or simply as another act of kindness, the beggars poured the last of the massage oils onto their hands and motioned me to stand up. Standing on either side of me, they then began to rub the oils into my body, fondling me and kissing my back, neck and chest as they did so. Only their hands touched my more intimate areas and even though they were rough and gnarled, they proved expert in bringing my cock back to a full erection. Their job done, the old couple took it in turns to kiss me on the lips and fuck my mouth with their tongues before we all stood as close together as we could and I licked both their tongues together while the old woman softly stroked my cock and her husband rotated his finger inside my arse. Her hand still on my cock, the old woman led me to the bed. Lying down on her back, she opened her legs wide and guided my cock inside her pussy. She was so wet that she took my full length and thickness with ease. Placing my hands on hers and holding them tight, I began to fuck her slowly and rhythmically, pushing and pulling my cock in and out of her elderly cunt as gently and tenderly as I could. All the time I was fucking her, I stared into her kind and beautiful eyes, losing myself in their depths. I leaned forward and kissed and licked the lines around them then kissed her lips before smothering her breasts in kisses and sucking each of her nipples in turn. The old woman had lain still until then, leaving me to do all the work, but now her cunt muscles tightened around her cock and she began to grind her body against mine. Taking this as my cue, I started to fuck her faster and harder. Soon my balls were slapping against her pussy and she was making just as much noise as she had when I tongue fucked her earlier that evening. The harder I rubbed my cock against her clit, the louder her cries became and the more her body twisted under me. Encouraged by her reaction, I increased the strength and speed of my strokes still further. It was only a matter of a few moments after that that she uttered her loudest cry of the night, her whole body shaking as she experienced a powerful orgasm. My cock still firmly impaled inside her, I held her tightly in my arms until the rush of excitement passed and her heartbeat returned to normal. Her body was relaxed now and so was mine. That and the oils on our bodies made it easy for her husband to slide his now hard cock into my arse. Placing his hands on my arse he began to fuck me. His cock was smaller than the others I had had inside me recently but I found it just as pleasurable. It was not long before my arse started moving back and forth in tandem with his strokes while I fucked his wife a second time. It was the first time I had been fucked while fucking and the way my body felt was indescribable. It was the greatest pleasure I had ever experienced and the true wonder of it was that I was receiving it from two wizened old beggars who I would never have let enter my home never mind my bed or body before that day. I had considered them beneath my contempt when instead they were the most wonderful lovers I could ever have wished for. How many potential days of pleasure with them and others like them had I lost forever because of my disgusting arrogance I wondered. My life would have been so much better if only I had realised earlier that true happiness lay in serving my betters rather than trying to lord it over them. The old man leaned forward, nuzzling my neck and kissing my back while he rubbed and pinched my nipples. I felt my cock stiffen even further and I bent down and kissed the old woman's nipples causing her cunt muscles to contract. The old man pounded her harder and I pounded his wife in turn. She was yelling again and so was I. I could barely see now, my heart was pumping so hard. I was lost in a world of pleasure I could only ever have imagined before that nnight. The old couple were moving now with an energy I had thought beyond them, the old man fucking me with ever increasing speed while his wife held my cock tight within her pussy, rotating her hips so that her clit rubbed furiously against it. My balls tightened and I felt the tip of my cock grow wet. The old couple's bodies were also tensing. All three of us were on the verge of orgasm. It was only a question of which one of us would be first to cum. In the event, it was the old man. The spurts of hot cum that erupted inside my arse were not particularly powerful but they were enough to send me over the edge and I shot so much cum into the old woman's pussy that it leaked onto the bed. As for her, she had an orgasm of such intensity that I feared she was going to pass out. Lying down beside her, I took her in my arms and kissed her, holding her tightly against me until, exhausted, she fell asleep in my arms. Herb husband's rigid cock was still inside my arse but he made no effort to remove it. Instead, he draped his arm over my shoulder and promptly fell asleep. Only a few hours before I had despised the old couple and felt repulsed by their elderly bodies. Now, however I had realised the error of my ways and I felt truly honoured to sleep in their bed that night, a humble piece of white meat between two beautiful and superior Sri Lankans. Humbled in Sri Lanka He kicked me again, harder this time and I scrambled hurriedly onto all fours. "You work now!" he informed me and shouted something to his companion. "Please!" I moaned "I am very tired and thirsty. Please let me drink something!" Sir considered my request then picked up the dirty bowl that had held his curry snack and poured some water into it. Placing the bowl on the ground beneath my head, he ordered me to drink and I did, lapping up all the food and waste curry like a good little dog. Sir obviously approved as I earned a gentle pat on the head. "Come!" said Sir and I crawled behind him to a more shaded part of the garden. This time, it did not even cross my mind to stand up and walk, being Sir's dog was so natural to me now. The tree man had been busy. He had driven five stakes into the ground, four were arranged facing each other in a square while a larger one sat at the head of the square. Each of the four shorter ones had a length of rope attached to them. Before I could open my mouth to protest, I had been manhandled between the stakes and my limbs were being bound to them by the ropes. A dog collar I recognised as having once belonged to my wife's pet Alsatian which had recently passed away, was fastened to my neck and its leather leash was tied to the largest stake. It was tight enough to bind me to the post but loose enough to allow my head and neck some freedom of movement. Their work done, Sir and his friend stepped back to admire their handiwork. What a sight I must have been, their once proud employer tethered on all fours like a goat with his legs forced wide apart so that his defenceless arse was on display to all the world. They must have liked what they saw because both now sported fresh erections. I am ashamed to say that I did as well. "What is the meaning of this!" I gasped, straining at my bonds "What are you going to do with me?" "Now you work." said Sir, kneeling down and patting my cheek "You work hard for Sir. Make Sir much money, make Sir very happy." Still smiling, he pointed to his companion who was talking to someone on my mobile. Of course, the native language had never interested me but the tone of the conservation seemed to me to resemble the type of haggling I had heard just a short time earlier during my unfortunate visit to the market. Sensing what was to come, I started to tremble and my eyes started to water. "No cry." said Sir "You be good dog for Sir, you not have any problem. Only problem if you are bad dog. If you bad dog then my friend punish you. You not like that." "No Sir." I said miserably "He is not nice like you." Sir smiled. "Then be good wife for men who coming. Work cunt good and make them happy. They happy, Sir happy then you happy." "I understand Sir." I said, lowering my head submissively "I will be the very best whore I can be just for you." I am not sure if he understood my words but he appreciated the emotions behind them. At least that is what I thought when he patted me on the head. Picking up the hose, he then proceeded to wash me down, making particularly sure that my arsehole was thoroughly cleaned. It did not take long for the water to dry off in the midday sun. While he waited, Sir sat under a nearby tree, smoking with his friend. Despite my brave words, I was terrified and the next several minutes were agonising as I awaited the arrival of my first customer. It could be anyone, from any social class. I was at the mercy now of even the lowest dregs of local society, the kind of people who were so far beneath me that they were invisible to me on a daily basis. Now it was they who would be able to lord it me if Sir so chose. I just hoped that whoever did come was not fat or ugly and that they would take precautions. Somehow, I doubted it. I had drifted into a kind of dream state by the time I finally heard the garden gate open, my cock hard as I imagined serving a group of handsome and virile young men who looked suspiciously like my masseur. I heard the rustle of paper as notes were handed over just behind my arse, temporarily passing ownership and control of my naked body over to my customer. "Remember dog, you be good now or Sir very angry!" warned Sir and then, with a final slap of my arse, he and his friend walked away. Trembling, I held my arse up high and allowed it to be inspected. I still had not seen my customer but a snort of disgust told me he was less than impressed by my assets. I was in state of some anxiety as he walked around me, muttering under his breath and when I was finally ordered to look up I almost fainted I was so afraid. It was the tall, thin old trader I had so firmly put in his place earlier that morning and the scornful look on his pinched face was anything but friendly.