1 comments/ 4867 views/ 5 favorites Inspection Day Ch. 01 By: JerseyGirlBcom Morning It was inspection day. Every Saturday was inspection day. The warm water cascaded down my back as I dragged the blade through the foam over my toned abdomen to remove the faint stubble that had formed in a happy trail. Jerome preferred me smooth save the hair on my head. The hair on my head must be kept short, tight on the sides with slight length at the top. Jerome had particular tastes he had refined over the twenty some odd years we had been in this relationship. Relationship? Could this be considered a relationship? Arrangement perhaps that was a better a word. Our arrangement. As I meticulously attended to my hair situation, my mind wandered, as it often did, to the beginnings of our arrangement. A cold day in December, just before winter break in college, I entered our dorm room to find Jerome, cock in hand, attending to himself. I never would7: have imagined the road that event would start me upon. Sometimes, when I have a moment to myself, I wonder if he did. However, I do not have long to day dream of the beginning of our arrangement. I am on a strict schedule. It's nearly 6:30am on Saturday. Jerome sleeps in on Saturdays. I must prepare his breakfast, plate it, and have the kitchen clean prior to his awaking. Jerome awoke at 7am. I stood, wearing my frilly, waist, red and white apron, at the sink cleaning the cast iron skillet when he entered the kitchen. I turned hearing his slippers upon the cold ceramic tile floor. "Good Morning Sir." I greeted him with a large smile upon my face. "I have prepared eggs benedict for you with some slices of bacon, and an English muffin." Jerome stood a good four inches over me. His face was smooth from shaving, His bare, broad, chest held a few dark curls. He folded his thick arms over it in that moment and regarded me then his plate before taking a seat. As his left hand lifted a strip of bacon to his mouth, his right waved me over. I quickly dropped the sponge and untied the apron, placing it upon the counter. To his side I stood, feet shoulder width apart, hands raised, laced behind my head, elbows out. My chin was high and my eyes were forward. He was to begin inspection. As he chewed, his chestnut eyes scanned my milky, lean, form. Jerome required I be tight but not bulky. His form was much more formidable than my own. I am required to complete an hour of cardio exercise every other day. On the alternating days I am permitted light weight training. Jerome keeps a gym in the basement. His thick, calloused, dark palm followed his eyes. First he inspected my chest for hair. Taking the second strip of bacon into his mouth he grunts in approval. Then his hand goes to my face. He takes my chin in his hand and pulls. I bend at the waist bringing my face close to his. I open my mouth and he inspects my teeth. Ensuring I am keeping up on my oral hygiene. Another grunt of approval. Jerome releases my face, I return to standing upright while he cuts into his eggs. He turned in his chair, facing me. I can't help it. My hazel eyes lower to the tent in his French boxer briefs. Tingles cover my entire body. He has begun to become aroused by my presentation. I can feel the warmth cover me as my skin turns a pinkish hue in a blush/my own arousal. He laughs watching the plastic cage around my dick twitch. Immediately, the wave of embarrassment washes over me. It is something I have yet to fully come to terms with. He has had me in a cock cage for ten years. They have changed and become tighter, more restricting over the years. Each one more humiliating then the last. I have become addicted to this humiliation apparently. Jerome's hands travel down my pelvis, he checks the happy trail I removed and smirks. Then he takes the cage and lifts it, cupping my balls and I let out a moan. I can feel my cock attempting to grow but hindered by the clear plastic restraint. My legs wobble. He laughs once more. His touch, God it does so much for me. I have not been touched, sexually, by many. As our arrangement grew in intensity my control over touching myself and being touched has been slowly stripped. I am not permitted to touch myself or allow touch without Jerome's permission. I have not touched myself in 27 days. To say I am aching is an understatement. His hands then go down my thighs and shins. I shudder and each time I react to him he laughs. He begins to pinch and prod at me. Jerome is in tuned into my every movement no matter how minor. He notes how to pull slightly away and pinches harder. He snorts in amusement at each whimper from the pain he gives me. Jerome's hand cups my sack again and he begins to squeeze gently and my knees once more threaten to give out. "They are heavy." "Yes Sir." "You have not emptied them in some time." "No Sir." "Turn." I whimper when his hand stops. I slowly turn, presenting him what he called my "lily white bubble butt" to him. His hands caress each cheek and my face is now red with both arousal and embarrassment. His hands on me so intimately, as he inspects me. "Apart." I lower my hands, bend lightly forward, and reach behind me, pulling my ass open. I feel his wide finger begin at the base of my spine. He slowly trails it down the crack of my ass. He is ensuring I have removed all hairs and am smooth. He does not like hair on my body. Jerome's finger lingers at my anus. I am visibly shaking at this point. Anal training began five years after our arrangement. When I say training, he began using increasing larger objects on me, no longer satisfied with just having his way with my asshole. It was at that moment I realized my body was truly his, his playground. My anal ring protested mere seconds before he dipped his finger inside without lube. This time my knees buckled and I nearly collapsed. A throaty groan escaped my lips and my trembling increased. I could feel the cage dancing against my groin. My cock was struggling to respond. "You have pleased me." Jerome's finger has been removed and I am immediately left wanting more. "Thank you Sir." I straighten myself turn toward him, and lower to my knees before him. Taking another bite of his food he faced me while he chewed. His eyes intent upon me and my heart began to pound in anticipation. When I pleased him I got a reward. The more rewards I earned on inspection day would dictate how my week would go. It's worth mentioning that I own nothing, I have nothing. I am a successful accountant. However, my pay checks are deposited into a bank account which is not in my name. I have no access, it is Jerome's. Every Saturday evening, Jerome provides me with my allowance for the week. Jerome owns the home where I am provided a modest room. Jerome selected a twin bed and single pillow for my sleeping arrangements. The door to my room has locks on the outside and I have no key. Jerome decides when I am permitted to leave my room. There are pad locks on my dresser and a lock on my closet. Jerome lays out the clothing I am to wear the following day. Today all I was left was the apron. I do however, have access to a dirty hamper. Jerome's dirty clothes are placed in the hamper, I am in charge of completing all the domestic chores. I cook, clean, and do Jerome's laundry. "You have earned three minutes of structured time." He says once he has completed his breakfast. My heart nearly stops. "Thank you Sir! Thank you so much Sir!" I am beyond grateful. Three minutes was almost double the time I would need. As Jerome sits back, he puts his cloth napkin over his plate. I quickly rise and remove it. He drinks the coffee I have prepared for him while I clean his dishes. I hear him sigh and my heart is fluttering, I could sing a tune I was so proud of passing the first part of inspection. "Depending upon how you do with structured time," he begins and I turn while drying his dish, "you will have the opportunity to earn up to five minutes of structured time at a later date." I froze. My lids blinked and my jaw fell open. Two sessions? I had earned two sessions. "Sir!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my delight. "Sir! Thank you." I immediately fell to my knees. I crawled toward him groveling. I lowered down, into a tight ball, my knees to my belly, my chest practically on the floor, my head hovering over his feet, I began to kiss and lick them. I had to demonstrate my gratitude. I lavished my affections on the tops of one foot and then the other. I heard him groan as my pink tongue moved to his toes. I began to lick around them, curling about them, and slipping between them. Jerome enjoyed when I paid attention to his feet. He turned, parting his legs and I knew he was rubbing himself to full hardness. My heart was leaping and my stomach was flopping. If I did this right, he would truly offer me a reward. Perhaps I can earn more than my typical one hundred dollar allowance. "Up." He commands. I pull myself to kneeling, my thighs now wide, my cock once more struggling between my legs. My hands were clasped behind my back, causing my chest to be pushed forward. Jerome reaches into his blue boxer briefs, and removes the meaty member I had been fascinated with since that day in college. It was thick, so much thicker than my own. I had length, I was by no means small, but he. Jerome was grand. The dark flesh stood, half-mast. He was uncircumcised, and the head of his cock had just begun to peek from its hood. I began to salivate as my eyes were glued to him. "Boy, your obsession with this is how I can do this." "Yes Sir." Jerome held his cock at the base, and began to massage his own dark sack. The sparse nest of dark curls which I was in charge of shaving and keeping trimmed were covered by his hand. "White boy can't get enough of my black cock." "No Sir, I can't." He was taunting me and like fiend and I couldn't get enough. I leaned toward him. I wanted to taste him. "If I didn't take you, you would be a cock sucking mess in the ghetto." "Yes Sir I would." I agree, I was so addicted to him. "Remember when I took you..." he doesn't complete the memory. Jerome doesn't have to. I was already there. We were in our thirties. One night he took me to a bus station. He had dressed me in ragged clothes. He hadn't permitted I shower that week. By Saturday I had stunk. He took me to the men's room. I was to beg him. With each man that entered the restroom I begged him. I begged him for his cock. I told him I needed it. I yearned for it. One man, a balding, glasses, fat, probably a CPA offered me his cock. He was white. I was disgusted. Jerome laughed at my reaction. I think that was when I fully realized my place as black owned male slave. "Mmmmm," Jerome awoke me from the memory as he pet my face, fully stroking himself now. His cock was almost at full attention. I shifted on my knees, and licked my lips. "Please Sir." I began. "Please Sir, I have had no punishments this week. Please Sir." He once more chortled at my plight. "You are correct. You have not." He stroked himself further. "Please Sir." I leaned now. My mouth hovering over the bobbing tip. It took all my restraint to not take him in my mouth. My hands were clenching and unclenching behind my back. "What is it you want white boy?" "Sir, this white boy bitch craves the taste of your thick black cock in my mouth." Jerome thoroughly enjoyed when I used third person speech in begging. "Your white bitch boy is addicted to the flavor of your cum and is hungry for your most precious reward Sir." He laughed, his large hand coming to the back of my head, and just as a clear bead of precum escaped the slit, my head was pushed down. My entire body relaxed, and my mind went blank of anything else. I focused on the unwashed flavor of his cock. The hint of urine still there from his morning piss. My tongue, flat against the underside of her erection, as my lips sealed around him, I swallowed his full length. The first thing Jerome trained me on was deep throating him. I had to take his full length without gagging. He hated gagging. He however, fully enjoyed the amount of drool I produced from taking him into my throat. I bobbed my head up and down on him. I turned and flicked my tongue against him. Pulling back his foreskin for me, my tongue swirled around his head. I moaned on him. And he leaned back controlling depth and speed with his hand on the back of my head. I was rewarded shortly. The first spurts of cum were deep in my throat and I struggled to swallow them. Soon he pulled back, and filled my mouth with the thick ropes of cum. He pulled out and I opened my mouth. I did not swallow the cum in my mouth. My tongue kept down so he can see how much I held for him. This also allowed for the taste of him to linger in my mouth. He smiled down and with his finger curled under my chin lifted it. This was his signal to permit me to swallow. I am obedient. With a groan, he lifted himself up. He ran his hand through my hair, and mussed it. "While I shower, you are permitted grapefruit, oatmeal, and two links of sausage. You will have one cup of coffee, and if still thirsty, one glass of orange juice." "Yes Sir, thank you Sir." "Your structured time will take place after my shower, so go down to the playroom once you are done." "Yes Sir thank you Sir." Inspection Day Ch. 02: Structured Time The playroom is located in the basement. It's a room off the gym. It looks like a closet from the outside. It is not a large room. It is another locked room. Jerome has the only key. I find the door unlocked. Inside the room, which is sound proofed, are several webcams mounted into the wall. Jerome controls them. He runs a website and often posts videos of his play time with me. There is a hood on a small end table by the door. Today's sessions will be recorded if not live streamed. My free time on Sundays are spent in the chat rooms with the other submissive white men and sometimes black bulls. I answer the emails, relay the suggestions to Jerome, and live chat with Jerome's fans. Pulling the hood over my face, I find that I have no eye holes in this one. However, the black spandex has a mouth hole. It takes a moment to adjust to breathing in this hood. Jerome has laid out none of his toys. Everything is in its place. Jerome has amassed a collection of many things stored in the dressers and cabinets along the walls and some items hung on the walls. He has cuffs hanging on the wall, everything from steel to leather. He also has an assortment of floggers, made from different hides, hanging on the wall. Crops, dragon's tails, paddles, all the implements of impact play are prominently displayed on the tan walls. I kneel in the center of the room. My knees are far apart, and my hands are behind my back. I keep my chin up and wait for Jerome. The flicking on of the red lights tells me he is recording my structured time today. My heart flutters and begins to pound. There is extra pressure when he publicizes his control over me. I am both embarrassed and thrilled when he does this. My cock jumps in his cage, eager to be let out. I can feel that I continue to leak. As my chastity has continued, I have begun to leak. Not being able to release or orgasm, I apparently build up and when I am aroused, pre-cum drips from my cock. There was a puddle on the ceramic tile after I had sucked Jerome off. I had to clean it up prior to my breakfast or else I would be punished. Jerome arrived in the play room after what felt like hours of kneeling. However, I am sure it was only a few minutes. He closes the door behind him and walks around me. A smirk on his face. "Leaky." "Yes Sir." "You will clean that." "Yes Sir." "How?" My face flushes red hot as I answer. "I will lick up my mess Sir." "Soiling my floor with white seed." "I do not mean to Sir." "Yet you make a mess." "I am sorry Sir." "Maybe you have not earned your time after all." "Please Sir!" I am desperate and I waver from my position and I begin to grovel. Resuming my position from earlier. I am low, in a ball, and at his feet. He steps away. "Up." Tears nearly falling from my eyes as I resume my knelt position. "Please Sir." I murmur. "Pig." "Yes Sir. Please Sir." I continue to beg. "Nasty filthy pig." "Yes Sir." I heard Jerome go toward the dresser. The dresser against the left wall contains his anal tools. On top is three gallon size jugs of lube with pump tops, a box of gloves, and folded towels. The first drawer contains every size butt plug imaginable. Ones that vibrate, ones that are metal, glass, and silicone. He also has a few speculums in this drawer. The next drawer contains dildos. Jerome uses mostly double ended ones on me. They are various thicknesses. Some of them I am unable to take yet. He has set the end of the year for the one which looks like a hand. He says it will be our New Year's show. The third drawer is his miscellaneous drawer. There are anal beads of various sizes inside. He enjoys when I wear them all day. Especially the balls which vibrate somehow with movement or ones he has a remote to. I heard a draw pull open, my heart is pounding in my chest, and I can feel sweat forming on my back. My cock bounces tightly encased in its cage. I am so needy, and I am fighting the urge to reach for my balls, or anything. "Down." Jerome commands. "Yes Sir." My chest flops forward immediately. I do not question his order. My arms are at my sides, palms up, and my face is turned so I may breathe. My knees are a bit wider than shoulder width apart, and my ass is in the air. I can feel the stream of anxious precum dripping from my slit. What this man does to me. Jerome walks around me. And I feel his wide hand upon my pale bubbled bottom. I shudder and he laughs. The cool gel sends another shiver through me as it glops against my rosebud. "Pig tail for the pig." "Yes Sir." Every time Jerome addresses me I must verbally acknowledge that he has spoken to me. Either to answer his question or just agree with him. At first, my anal ring protests the hard plastic, I know to be pink, plug with the curly tail. I let out a groan when Jerome does not relent. Soon, the medium sized plug is pushed into me with determination. I let out a throaty gurgle and my body goes weak. A submissive wave flows through me as my bottom is filled. A hearty slap to one cheek and then the other awakens me from the ensuring fog. "Pig up." "Yes Sir." Flexing my abdominals, I quickly pull myself upward, resuming my kneeling position. The movement causes the plug within me to shift and again another moan comes from me. Jerome's hands are on my shoulders and he pushes. No words this time. I back up a few paces until his hands are off me. I feel him slide something over my face. I know it is a pig nose. "Down." He commands. "Yes Sir." Again my face is against the cool floor and I realize I am in a sticky puddle. My face has been put into my own precum. "You will clean before your time." "Yes Sir." I respond and quickly my tongue slides over my lips and I lap at the saltines son the floor. I had acquired a taste for cum in college. Jerome saw to that. My own was vastly different than his. His I craved. Mine I tolerated. As I licked I heard the whoosh through the air and felt the harsh sting across both ass cheeks and I let out a whimper. He was caning me. Most likely with his steel cane. It was his favorite as of late. "That is not the noise pigs make." "Yes - " my words are interrupted by one then two sharp whips of the cane one below the original mark and the next below. Both times I jumped and I wanted to cry out. However, I am his pig. "Oink!" I weakly cry. Another whip of the cane. This time on the original mark and stars shoot through my vision the pain ricochets through me, yet my cock continues to dance in delight. "Oink! Oink!" I snort as I continue to leak. Though I know I am still leaking. This is a futile endeavor. Jerome's favorites. "Up!" Jerome barks after five full minutes of caning me. My ass is on fire. I can feel each stripe and know tomorrow I will have difficulty sitting when responding to messages. "Oink!" it is all I am permitted to say as I am his pig. My chest comes up and my hands once more clasp behind my back. My face is smeared with sticky precum that I attempted to lick off the floor. I feel his flaccid cock pressed to my lips and I open. Hungry for him, I seal them around his uncircumcised tip and suckle him into my mouth. His hand begins to stroke over my nylon covered head. "Good piggy." I snort continuing to curl my tongue around his cock. It is growing in my mouth from my attention. This causes my stomach to flop and my cock to jump once more. The cage has never felt so tight. "You may reach down and okay with your balls and flip the cage." Another snort as my nose is against his pelvis. I do as he says. My hand goes under my heavy sack and I begin to lift it and let it drop. I take the cage between my fingers and flip it up and down. My fingers slide in what I know to be clear pre-cum draining from me. It had been so long since I was milked. After a short time, probably a minute, Jerome commands: "Stop." And his cock is pulled from my mouth. I snort and my hands go behind my back. "Up." Snort, and one foot goes to the ground and then I push. I raise to a standing position. Hands still at the small of my back. My feet a bit more than shoulder width apart. Jerome's hands go to my cage. I can feel him moving my cock around and I whine. I turn my head and begin to pant. My body is now covered in beads of sweat. My cock is aching. "I will free you for structured time." Snort. "You will only do as I say." Snort. "Good pig." My chest swells, "Oink!" I declare proudly. He laughs at me of course. The feeling of having the cage removed is indescribable. The cool air dances along my useless penis. It's semi filled with blood and ready to explore with the slightest touch. Jerome runs his thick, masculine, calloused hand over me. I trembled at his touch. My knees buckling. "Please." I beg. I could come from just one stroke of his hand. His hand pulls back and the pain goes right into my belly. My knees give out and I am on the ground. Curled in the fetal position. Jerome had held nothing back. He had cracked me in my sack, and I cannot breathe. "Bad piggie. I will take this away." "Oink! Oink! Oink!" Snort Snort Snort. I can feel tears in my eyes as I roll around on the ground in pain. "Seems my pig is not behaved. So structured time will change slightly." "Oink!" I whimper still on the ground. "Up." I snort as I get up on my knees, resuming the position, my breathing so ragged and my cock is rock hard. I feel as if it is about to rocket off my body. A cool sensation washes over my cock. At least it starts out cool and then turns to ice. "Ahhhhhh..." I let out as I squeeze my eyes shut. Jerome is slathering me with some sort of cool cream. I fear it is icy hot and will soon scorch and I will once more be writhing in pain. "Numbing cream is applied to pig's dick." Jerome says to what I assume is one of the webcams. I whimper. He has done this once before. "Oink." I weakly reply and he offers me a throaty chuckle and a slap to the face. "Wank." He demands. "Slow." "Oink." With a click, I know he is using a stop watch, and my right hand goes to the slickened member. It is so cold. I can barely feel myself however, I do as he says. Slowly my fist glides up and down my cock, which is shrinking from the temperature. It is only a few seconds before I hear. "Faster." My fist begins to move up and down with speed. Friction, I can feel friction and my heart delights. My hips begin to pump as I fuck my hand. "Oink! Oink! Oink!" I can feel my cock growing again. I can feel the pulse and pull of my balls. "Stop." The calm cool voice echoes in my ear as does the click of the stopwatch I know him to use. I snort and place my hands behind my back. I panting wildly. Jerome reaches toward me and I can feel him pinching my nipples. "Perhaps my pig needs more stimulation." "Oink." I hear him shuffle about. A drawer opens to my right. The dresser to the right contains Jerome's electrical play tools. This is a new development for Jerome. Also inside this cabinet are the ball weights and other implements of cock and ball torture. He refers it to the pain cabinet. Jerome has been adding to this collection recently. I lick my lips trying to calm my breathing. I am so worked up and on edge just from the length of denial, let alone from the touching I have been permitted. "Slow." "Oink." My right hand returns to my cock head and I slowly squeeze and rub it. I let out a moan of delight. Its still cold but I can barely feel the sensation, and its just enough to keep me growing. Hot breath tickles my ear as Jerome's chin rests on my shoulder. His left hand comes to my chest and he begins to pinch my nipple. I push back against him and want to stroke harder. However, my hand now glides up and down my shaft painfully slow. "Do you think piggy, you will be able to cum in the remaining two and a half minutes. I don't know." "Oink! Oink! Oink!" It takes all my energy not to feverishly pump myself. Cum! He said cum! Will he let me cum? He laughs biting my ear and pulling my nipple hard from my body. Of course I whine both in need to stimulate myself more and in agony of his attentions. "Faster pig." He growls. I snort and my fist flies up and down my cock. I squeeze and corkscrew my hand. I am gasping for breath at this point. I can feel the beads of sweat dripping down my face. The click. "Stop." "Oink." My chest heaves up and down my hands behind my back. I was on the edge. I could have gone over. I was so close. The pull is what I feel first and then I tilt my chin up. He is adding ball weights. I blink behind the mask. The feeling can only be described as intense. "There is less than two minutes left pig." "Oink." "Your hand does not seem to be working for you." "Oink." "I have a suggestion." "Oink." I feel my owners hand slide down me and I nearly melt into the floor. I groan and fight the urge to thrust into him. My cock twitches. The cooling numbing cream is all but gone. Wiped away from my hand and the sheer amount of precum I am leaking all over the place. His fist tightens almost painfully around my erection and I let out another snort and whimper. He laughs. "Thrust one my count." "Oink." He begins establish a rhythym of thrusting. I can almost hear the ticking of the stopwatch. I have no clue how long he allows me to fuck his hand. The weighty swing of my balls like a pendulum only drives my need further to the limit. I begin to oink and snort more feverishly and he takes his hand away. I am left humping air. "You have thirty seconds left pig. You have not released." "Oink! Oink! Oink!" I am desperate. "I know!" he declares with a chuckle. "Oink?" I feel the plastic against my thighs. His hands are on my cock and he positions me. "An inflatable pig. For my pig." He laughs. "Oink." It's a whine. "You can fuck your own kind." He laughs harder. "Oink." Another whiny response. He cracks me in the face and I see the stars once more. "This is a gift pig!" he growls. "Oink Oink." Snort. "Fuck this pig and if you get the urge," he snorts himself. "Cum." "Oink!" As I slip into the inflated doll, It dawns on me. Its ice in there. Its so cold. My cock wants to crawl up inside me. He has practically stuffed it with numbing cream. I can feel it squishing out on my thighs as I pump in and out of the blow up doll. He laughs so hard. "Oink piggy." I do. I snort and fuck. He takes my hands and I am now holding the plastic pig I am fucking. I can see it barely thought he nylon. I fuck feverishly and uselessly. My cock is so limp right now I might as well not have one. "You better fuck harder if you want to cum pig." "Oink!" and I try. My pelvis rocks back and forth. I am slamming this pig against my crotch. It is useless. The weights on my balls are threatening to rip them from me with the momentum with which they are swaying. And then... "Time." The beeping resounds through my ears. I snort and stop moving instantly. I am panting wildly. I can smell myself sweating profusely. The smell of sex is in the air. "Pity pig." He whispers in my ear stroking my head through the mask. "Oink." It is so weak. "Three minutes should have been enough for you to cum since you haven't in so long." "Oink." He slides the plstic pig from my hands and he rubs my limp cock in his hands. Its no use. Its so cold. He laughs more in my ear. "If piggy cleans the sty, I will continue to play with piggy. Maybe piggy will earn release." "Oink! Oink! Oink!"