Meeting Master Sniff_Send: Chapter 2
Final humiliating tasks before meeting
In Chapter 2 House Slave Fag dives deeper into how he imagines his first real-life meeting with Master Sniff_Send. It’s the day before their in-person encounter, and Master orders him to attend a happy hour at a seemingly innocent bar—only for the afternoon to turn unexpectedly filthy as a series of degrading tasks play out under Master’s remote control.
Master Sniff_Send’s intoxicating voice recordings are woven throughout the episode, pulling you straight into the fantasy and making the experience fully immersive. You may find yourself wanting to tribute him at Throne.com/Sniff_Send… and if you don’t at first, keep listening until you do.
You can listen to this episode on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and other platforms. Or you can read it below, and still listen to Master Sniff_Send's voice recordings at the right moments.
I woke up in my Brooklyn hotel on Saturday morning and immediately thought of Master Sniff_Send. I've become used to having him occupy my mind the moment I wake up in the morning, but today was special. My anticipation was growing, as I was expecting to meet him tomorrow, and today I had some tasks to complete for him. I was so excited, and a big smile spread across my face. I could feel myself getting hard and I rushed to pick up my chastity cage and put it on my cock before it got too hard.
Normally I'd lock after having breakfast, when I'm ready to start my day, and I usually wouldn't lock on the weekend, but today was different. I was ready to surrender myself to him and this was the one thing I could do to control myself. To avoid jerking off all day and, god forbid, cumming without permission.
I had the whole weekend to get through and I needed to keep myself together. He set our meeting up relatively early tomorrow, at 5pm. He said he didn't want to waste his Sunday night on a faggot, even though I was a faggot who was going to hand him $1,500. But I shouldn't be too proud of myself. The top 3 senders on his Throne leaderboard include two who have sent $3,000 and one who has sent $29,923. If you're impressed by that number but are wondering when it would get to $30,000, don't worry. You're not suffering from OCD. It just means you're a finsub too. Do you need to hear that from Master Sniff_Send himself?
Master Sniff_Send told me to go to a certain gay bar at 4pm for Happy Hour. I told him I'd need to get my Owner's permission if I was going to a gay bar, as I do whenever I go to gay cruising places. So Master Sniff_Send dismissed that plan and sent me to a straight bar instead. I wasn't sure about it, but I figured I'd be respecting my Owner's rules, since I wasn't going to do any cruising at a straight bar. Besides, I didn't need any cock right now, I only needed to see Master Sniff_Send, and I was going to do that very soon — tomorrow.
He had told me to take a seat on a bar stool in front of the beer taps, and someone would approach me. He had sent them my picture so they would be able to recognize me.
The bar was a little dark, but there was still some sunlight coming from the windows facing the street. It wasn't really busy. Just a few people of various ages, mostly guys, were seated on stools along the long bar and in a couple of booths. No one was standing, so it felt like at least I had some space, with no one too close to me, in case it got embarrassing.
There was only one bartender. He was tall and very muscular, and I noticed him just as he was putting on a tank top. He stopped as he caught my gaze, letting me bathe my eyes in the view of his pumped pecs for a sweet moment longer. Finally he broke my daydream and finished putting the tank top on. "What can I get for you, honey?" he asked.
"Um, I was told I should ask for a planter's punch," I said, a little flustered, but remembering Master Sniff_Send’s instructions.
"Ah, yeah, Bobby told me a faggot would come over and ask for this cocktail no one ever asks for."
"Uh, yes Sir, I guess that's me," I said meekly.
He chuckled. "Yeah, they are pretty strong and he told me you're going to have three of them. Are you sure you can handle it, babe?”
“Um, I guess?” I said, uncertain. “I mean, I’m a pretty light drinker and I don’t want to get sick. But I guess he knows the effect they will have on me.”
The hot bartender chuckled again. “That depends on the individual, little guy. I’ll tell you what. I understand you want to follow his orders, but I also don’t want to lose my license. Three drinks should be fine, but if it looks like it’s not, I’m going to stop serving you, and you can tell him it was my fault, so you don’t get in trouble with him.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind,” I said. “Uh, he told you it was an order?”
“Sure. He brings faggots here to get drunk all the time,” the bartender informed me.
“I, um, OK,” I mumbled, my gaze wandering again to his muscular pecs peeking out of his low cut tank top, then his large armpit, as he raised one of his huge arms, and I suddenly realized he was teasing me. “Sorry Sir,” I said, snapping out of it, embarrassed.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, amused. “I’m used to bitches drooling all over me.”
I could feel my face flushing.
“I’m going to go ahead and prepare your drink,” he said. “Why don’t you start listening to the recording he assigned to you in the meantime.”
“Yes Sir,” I said, embarrassed once again that this bartender seemed to know everything Master Sniff_Send was putting me through. I didn’t plan to be exposed like that. I put my earbuds on and played an audio file I had prepared a couple of months ago, including over 20 minutes of his sexy, mindfucking voice recordings from Twitter. I had initially created the file as a service for my fans (and Master Sniff_Send’s potential subs), so they could enjoy the mindfuck too, and perhaps also become eager to submit and send to him. I just wasn’t planning on being ordered to listen to it myself, rather than something I might choose to do when I’m alone and horny.
The hot bartender served me the drink a couple of minutes later, when I was already immersed in Master Sniff_Send’s audio recording, and was also browsing through Twitter, which showed me so many hot Doms. Here's a taste of the recording.
I sipped all my way to the bottom of my drink before finishing the recording. When I was done, the bartender served me a second Planter's Punch. Half way through it, I was done with the recording and I put my earbuds back into their case.
The bartender came back and asked, "how much have you sent him?" He really did know all of what Master Sniff_Send was doing to me.
"I, um, I haven't sent anything today, Sir. But I'm giving him $1,500 tomorrow," I said.
"So?" he asked. "Didn't the recording make you feel how needy and pathetic you are? Don't you feel like you should pay even for the privilege of hearing his voice?"
"I, um," I didn't get to finish my thought.
"Send him $50 and replay his recording," he ordered.
I put my earbuds back in my ears and played the recording again. While I continued listening to Master Sniff_Send's voice, I went to his Throne and sent him $50. Meanwhile I finished my second drink. I was already feeling its effect, but I knew I could walk out at any moment if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to. At all.
When I took my eyes off my phone, I started looking around. Master Sniff_Send continued talking to me in my ears in his soothing and commanding voice. Everyone was minding their own business, engaged in conversation or glued to their phone.
My gaze landed on the muscular bartender again. He wasn't too busy. He placed his hands behind his head and seemed to be stretching. Where to look first? His perfect six-pack completely visible through his tank top, his pumped chest, his huge armpits and biceps, or his handsome face and his grin? Damn, he was grinning at me while I was daydreaming in the stupor from Master Sniff_Send's mindfuck. Or maybe it was from the alcohol. Or both.
"You're staring for too long, pervert," the bartender said. "Why don't you give me $50 too!"
"Sir!" I exclaimed.
"Do it!" he ordered.
I pulled a $50 bill out of my wallet and handed it to him.
As he took the bill from me, he put his hand on the top of my head and tilted it back. He looked down into my eyes, perhaps checking my pupils. "Good boi," he said, releasing his grip and patting my head. He took my empty glass and brought me another full glass a minute later.
"You don't have to finish this one," he said. "Now for your first task. Take your earbuds out and put your phone on speaker."
"Sir? But his recording is very... well... explicit."
The bartender laughed. "Don't worry. Straight people can handle kinks too. Besides, they don't need to participate. They may just want to laugh at you."
"Please Sir, is this really necessary?" I pleaded.
"Only if you still want to see your FinDom Master tomorrow. Keep drinking, pussy, and give me your phone. I'll pick the best part for you to play. You only need to bear it for a couple of minutes. No more than three."
Reluctantly I handed him my phone. He navigated to the spot he wanted and started playing the recording. He put the phone on the bar right in front of me and he seemed to have turned up the volume.
"Don't you dare touch it until this segment is over," he ordered.
I was mortified, as Master Sniff_Send's voice spoke to me in front of everyone, who all of a sudden seemed to be all ears.
I pressed stop as soon as the segment was over. I wished I could just leave, but I knew this wasn't the end of it.
"Now for your second task," the bartender said, as he took out a small water bottle marked “Master Sniff_Send’s piss” from under the bar. The liquid was yellow and the bottle was marked clearly, just to be sure no one could miss it.
He put the bottle in front of me and asked for my phone again. He navigated through the recording on my phone and then placed the phone in front of me again. "Start drinking and press play," he ordered. "I'm going to take a video and some photos with my phone while you do that," the bartender added.
"What? No Sir," I said. "I can't have that on camera out there," I explained. This scene was already risky without filming it. I had a career and reputation to protect and the way Master Sniff_Send had planned it meant that even if the other patrons would go back to their business after the last scene I made with his recording, they would pay attention again if I'm playing that piss recording at full volume. I was only grateful that I had my back to them, in case any one of them filmed without my consent.
"That's your Master's condition, if you still want to meet him tomorrow," the bartender said.
I could ask why Master Sniff_Send needed to go so far. I thought this was all about findom, about giving him money. But I knew he was more than that. He was a real sadist. And somehow I was willing to get over my usual aversion of abuse. Was it the alcohol or was I just so hot for him?
"He doesn't need your money," the bartender continued, as if reading my mind. "But don't worry, faggot. I'll hand you my phone as soon as you're done and you can put stickers on your face in the video and photos."
I had to think for a moment. I was actually a little surprised that he'd be so accommodating.
"Well, faggot? What's it gonna be?" he pressed impatiently.
"Uh, OK, Sir," I finally acquiesced, hoping I wasn't making a mistake. Wanting to rip the band-aid off, I opened the bottle, began drinking, and started playing the not short enough recording.
The recording had ended by the time I finished drinking. Finally, I put down the bottle. I finished my third drink to wash it down.
True to his word, the bartender placed his phone on the bar in front of me. I hid my face with the Dollar-eyes emoji, and handed the phone back to the bartender. The bartender showed me that he was sending the photos and video to Master Sniff_Send and then deleting them from his phone.
"Could you also please delete them from the deleted items folder?" I asked.
"Sure, faggot," he said. He snickered, but he showed me as he was doing it, leaving me somewhat reassured. He took my empty glass and the bottle. "Good job drinking all that, do you want some more?"
"Oh, I don't think I should," I replied right away, but then wondered if he was referring to the drink or the piss.
"Of course you should, faggot," he said confidently. "You've been desperate to take my cock from the moment you saw me. This is your chance. I'm here all alone and can't leave my station, so I could use a urinal like you right now. Step over behind the bar."
"Oh. I, uh. I thought you were straight," I finally mumbled.
He chuckled. "I'm actually bi. Though if I'm fucking fags I prefer them to be sissies. But I could use a piss break right now. What do you say?"
"Yes Sir, of course," I replied and got out of my seat.
He chuckled again.
I got behind the bar and he pointed to a nook under it. I squeezed in and got on my knees.
He unzipped his fly and pulled out a long thick cock. I opened my mouth and he pushed it in. I was wishing he'd push deeper but we both knew it was too big. Or maybe he didn't want to be too deep inside my throat. He was so much hotter than me.
I waited for his piss to start flowing while his thick dick rested on my tongue and as I tried to look up and see his perfect abs. He was very tall, so I could barely catch a glimpse of his face, looking down at me, grinning. He then grabbed my head and thrust it onto his dick to take it a little deeper and, it seemed, to stop looking up at him.
I felt his warm piss starting to flow. Thankfully it wasn't salty. A fit guy like him was obviously drinking a lot of water. He took his time with the piss — he had a lot of it — but he wasn't really slow or gentle. I almost gagged and some of it flowed from the sides of my mouth and down my shirt. I rushed to suck more tightly on his dick and swallow everything. I finally got into the rhythm, drinking so much of it, feeling like just a vessel for him. But I also felt grateful for the little attention he gave me, patting my head as he pressed his dick a little deeper for his final drops.
Just as he pulled out and zipped up, I saw a short and fit young woman with an impressive rack step toward me and put her head under the bar to speak to me. The bartender stepped back but he was still watching from a few feet away.
"I figured you'd be here," she said.
"What?" I said, really unclear about where this was coming from.
She pulled down her panties from under her skirt, right in front of me, there behind the bar, and she handed them to me. They were red lace panties and they were stained with cum.
"Give me your underwear and put these on," she said.
Reluctantly, I took off my pants and underwear, thankfully remaining in the nook, and then I put on her soiled panties. I was relieved that the stain wasn't right on my dick, as my dick was protected by my chastity cage. But then again, I remembered that it was Master Sniff_Send's cum. I touched the moist part with my finger and brought it to my nose. It smelled like cum. I put my finger on my tongue. It was definitely cum.
She laughed. She grabbed my underwear from the floor and threw them into the nearby waste bin. "The last task from your Master is to send me off clean," she said.
"I... What?!" I asked, not really wanting to understand.
"He fucked me just minutes before I came here, and he left his cum inside my pussy. And you just took my panties. Now, you don't want to send a lady away dripping, do you?"
I found her question absurd. Though at this stage I wasn’t getting upset. I just protested as it was such a turn-off. I'm totally gay and have never been with a woman. "I can't, I'm gay," I finally replied with an equally absurd statement. Of course nothing was literally stopping me — I just really didn’t want to.
"You can, and you should," she said, standing her ground. "I heard you said you'd lick a pussy if his dick were inside it. Well, you're not that lucky, but close. His cum is inside it, and I think he'd be disappointed at best to hear you refused to eat his cum. There's no way he'd want to meet you tomorrow if you didn't, since you’ve been given the opportunity."
"Oh, uh," I couldn't think of anything to say. Did her words start making sense or were my thoughts just getting more blurry?
She didn't wait for an answer. She straightened up, positioning herself right in front of the nook, so I could only see her body from her waist down, which I preferred, given the task.
I closed my eyes and finally put my tongue to her smoothly shaved pussy, trying to imagine it was just like licking the skin on my hand. Or maybe a guy's asshole. I was glad that I could taste the cum and tried to concentrate on that and ignore any taste of female juices, no offense to women and those who admire them. I pushed my tongue in deeper to be sure I scooped up everything. She started moaning, and I realized I was going too far, doing my job too well. Master Sniff_Send had truly turned me into a cuck for him. I guess that was the only comfort, knowing I was doing all that for him. Finally I pulled back and she stepped away without protest.
The bartender who bore witness of the whole scene came closer and gave me a hand to pull me up from under the bar. I lost my balance for a moment, leaning on him, burying my face in his huge hard pecs. "Oh, sorry, Sir, thank you," I said, embarrassed, as I regained my balance.
"That's alright, faggot," he snickered. He grabbed my ass, admiring my new red panties.
I crouched to pick up my pants and quickly put them on. As I tried to straighten up, I again stumbled against him, this time rubbing my head up against his crotch. "I'm so sorry, Sir!" I said, mortified, as I finally straightened up.
"It's alright, sissy, relax," he said. "You just had a bit too much to drink." He grabbed my chin and looked closer into my eyes. "Open your mouth."
I did as he ordered.
He spit into my mouth and lifted my chin to close it. "You'll be fine."
"Uh, Sir?" I started to ask. "You just called me sissy. Does this mean you could fuck me?"
He let out a roaring laugh, almost like Master Sniff_Send. "Oh my god, aren't you a horny bitch, even after all this. Let's settle your bill and send you on your way. A hundred dollars will do for the drinks and my piss."
"Sir, the piss?" I asked, surprised. "I thought I was doing you a favor."
He laughed. "Don't you think I was doing you a favor?"
For a moment I pondered that and wondered if I might get to serve him again, but he interrupted that sweet thought.
"Pay up, sissy," he demanded.
I resented it, but I wasn’t going to fight this muscular giant. I didn’t have any fight left in me after all the abuse from all of them. Or was it abuse?
To be continued...