The boys got used to having me as a servant and a sex slave in their house. Every weekend I went back to the house on Friday afternoon and only went out on Monday morning.
I loved being naked all the time, with a collar and chains, abused, fucked, and humiliated by all of them.
When they opened the house door, I entered naked and with my hard cock, excited with the expectation of the first slaps and spats in my face.
I was forbidden to come; they kept me on edge, aroused, dripping precum, but not ejaculating once.
I was as aroused by the pain as by the humiliations. They were young, lively, and fun; they had a lot of friends and girlfriends in the house. They were all used to seeing me naked as part of their routine and household chores.
I used to suck dicks and get fucked in front of everyone without any awkwardness or amazement. I used to serve drinks and beers, collected clothes, and tidied and cleaned the house.
All of them smoked a lot, all the time, cigarettes, cigars, or marijuana; they liked to put out the cigarettes on my body, especially on my nipples and my cock, then they stuck the butts in my mouth and turned into a collective ashtray.
Soon I had to learn to endure the burns without complaining or groaning, and before long, this unfortunate habit started to turn me on, too. At parties, when the house was full of young people, I was the one who collected the beer bottles and cans, getting burned by all the cigarettes with contempt and naturalness.
I loved it all.
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