Be Careful What You Dream For

 

I never thought I would write story for Eunuch Archive, let alone a mostly true story (characters and events have been condensed). It all happened so fast. I was a middle aged divorced male, white, 5’8’, 165 lbs. I have two wonderful children. I raised them alone after my wife left because she decided she didn’t want to be married. Before I was married I had many girlfriends and a few after I was divorced. I though being gay was repulsive.

That suddenly changed within the last eighteen months. It started with the Internet, as many things do today. I was always a fan of porn and the Internet made it readily available. Never went to any web pages that you had to pay for though. I loved to look at pictures but especially loved to read the stories. Cannibalism stories fascinated me, and I read as many as I could find. Somewhere along that time I found the Eunuch Archive. These stories truly turned me on. I fantasized about being a eunuch or nullo. In one bulletin entry I found a reference to the Extreme Genital Modification Page. This was great. I was becoming more and more turned on by looking at men. I was also becoming obsessed with always being naked while at home. I began completely shaving my body except head hair.

I then became so bold as to put pictures of my body on the Extreme web page with a profile that I wished to be a nullo or castrated. Then it started to get serious. I found myself thinking about what it would be like to be screwed my another man, what it would be like to suck another man’s dick and swallow. When I jacked off I often ate my own come. I decided I wasn’t ready to be castrated and became interested in the large balls and dicks the pumpers had modified. I sent messages to several and one responded. This was the beginning.

We switched to meeting online privately. He showed me how to use a web cam and for the first time I was showing my naked body to another man in live action. This led to him leading me through ordering pumping supplies and starting to pump my dick and balls. I was now obsessed with having huge balls and a huge dick and was getting there. My balls were large and I loved it. Something else was happening at this time, he asked me to jack-off for him and I did. I kept jacking off whenever he asked me. He led me to the pumper’s page, where the chat room has a live cam feed. Now I was showing my package to a chat room of total strangers. It was fantastic; I had never felt so turned on.

The conversation started to be more about gay sex. I found my self-asking to be fucked. I wanted my balls to be pumped large and then I wanted to be fucked. I could just feel those big dicks fucking me. He invited me to his town. He said we could pump and he would help with saline injections, which would make my balls really huge. I wanted this and I wanted to put pictures on the web page so others could see me. I was following a path that would change me forever.

My new friend showed me dildo’s he had on hand. He said we could try these. One was shaped like a large dogs dick. This I found very interesting. I looked up bestiality stories on the net and became turned on by the idea. My friend mentioned slave master relationship and having read many stories in the Archives I was turned on with the though of being a slave. Things were escalating. I dreamed of being in a dog collar and leash and nothing else. I dreamed of being fucked and sucking dick. And really strange I dreamed of being held by a large dog and fucked by a dog. These dreams were closer than I could imagine.

My friend invited me to his city and amazingly I accepted. Me the straight stud who never even thought about gay things until the last year. I made arrangements for a suite and took some vacation time. I brought my pumping equipment and lots of rubbers. I was finally going to get fucked. How much and by how many I could not have guessed.

I arrived and we met at a restaurant. We had dinner then we went to his condo. He had a partner who was not home at the time. After some conversation we got down to the nitty gritty. We both had seen each other naked many times on the web cam but this was up close and personal. He was hairy but not too much as compared to my totally smooth look. After we were naked we immediately set our pump session. I was totally hard and could barely fit in the pumping tube. We pumped for a few hours till we were pretty large. It was great to have someone besides myself massage my balls during the breaks.

I was harder than I have ever been. At one point we were very close, as need be, when he leaned over and kissed me. A man had never kissed me before it was frightening but I began to love it. For the first time in my life I was the passive party, I was the bitch. Our tongues intertwined, it was wonderful. The next thing I knew he was pushing me gently down his chest, I licked and sucked his nipples, he groaned as I moved on down. Then it was there, my first dick up close. I licked it, the taste was not gross. I took it in my mouth; it was so smooth and silky. I liked the pre-come and tasted it on my tongue. Finally I sucked it; I took as much as I could in my mouth. I did the things I know I like. I licked the under side right behind the head. Slowly I sucked and licked until, again for the first time, another man came in my mouth. I swallowed it all, it tasted great. I felt this was right for me.

I stood up and we kissed more. His hairy body against mine felt wonderful. We went back to pumping until we were both huge. The rest of the evening we relaxed and talked. He said tomorrow things would get serious. I arrived early the next day. He took me to the living room and said take off all your clothes, which I love to do anyway. After I was naked he walked behind me and placed leather studded dog collar around my neck. This would be all I would wear that day and many other days. A leash was hooked and I was led to the bedroom where we pumped up for the day to come.

It was that afternoon, after we pumped, he hugged and kissed me again and gently led me to the bed. On the nightstand was plenty of lube. He laid me on my back on the bed. He lifted my legs and lubed my ass. I had never had anyone’s fingers up my ass before, it felt good. He placed my legs on his shoulders and his dick at my ass hole. Ever so slowly he entered my ass. It was a little painful at first but it felt so good I quickly became adjusted. Slowly he pumped me, I came on my stomach without being touched. I know this was right for me. He picked up speed as I became more comfortable. We both were moaning as I began to feel his cock swell, when I realized he hadn’t put on a condom. I didn’t care at this point. Then he moaned loudly, thrust hard and he came in me. I was amazed I could feel him coming in me. He stayed in me and held me for a while. I loved the feel of his hairy body on mine.

His partner was coming home that evening and I was in for more new experiences. I was naked all day except for my collar and leash. My friend helped me shave my body, reaching places I could never get to, my back and ass hole. It was a great feeling, I was hard constantly. My huge balls hanging out bouncing against my thighs was so great. I found it very erotic that my friend was dressed while I stayed naked. His partner came home to find me naked and leashed. While he wasn’t as interested in me as my friend, he was very nice. After dinner we went on-line to the Pumpers page with the live cams.

There we showed ourselves and pumped along with others. Many liked my smooth look and when during a pump break some noticed I was semi hard asked me to jerk off. I was too shy but my friend took charge and much to the delight of everyone watching he jerked me off, another first for me. I though my dick would burst it was so hard. We signed off and moved to the bed. My friend again gently pushed me downward, I took the hint and moved to his dick and began to suck. As I was doing this my ass was naturally in the air and soon I felt lube being applied as his partner slowly eased his dick into my ass hole. I was being fucked at both ends and loving it.

They both picked up speed and finally thrust into me and held me tight as they both came in me seconds apart. Again we forgot the condoms but who cared it felt so good. I could feel and taste the come. I spent the next day naked with my collar while we pumped till our dicks and balls were so big we couldn’t have fit them in any of our underwear. In one weekend I went from a heterosexual man with children and some fantasies to a naked, gay, bottom, that had been fucked from both ends and loved it. I couldn’t wait to get back the next weekend. My friend had some new things in store.

Finally the next weekend rolled around and I drove to my friend’s city. I didn’t bother with a hotel room this time. As soon as I entered the door off came my clothes and on went the collar. After dinner he said he had a big surprise for me. We were going out! Since I was naked it might be a problem. My friend had this solved. He put a graduation type gown on me. The collar and leash still showed as he led me to the car. We pulled up in front of a gay bar. My first time in a gay bar and I was basically naked and being led around on a leash. I should have said naked because as soon as we entered the gown came off. I was totally naked in a roomful of gay men. I was also totally erect, almost painful I was so hard. With my pumped up balls I was freakish. I was also very popular. Everyone was touching me as my friend, or should I now say it “Master” led me through the crowd. God I was turned on. We sat a table in the back as my Master talked quietly to many of the patrons. After a while he pulled my leash and we went to a special room in the back. It had a padded table in the middle with some towels and a bottle of lube. I was laid on the table and my Master rubbed me down then lubed my ass.

Then men started entering the room four and five at a time. I was fucked on my back flipped over and fucked on my stomach doggie style (which I liked the best). While I was being fucked dicks were stuck in my mouth and I sucked till my jaw hurt, swallowing loads of come in all flavors. Of the dicks in my ass some had condoms some did not. All I knew was come was running out all over my ass. I came several times by men jerking me off while they fucked me. I have no idea how many men fucked or I sucked that night but I was very sore. My Master, in anticipation, was thoughtful enough to have brought a diaper since I no longer could hold anything in my stretched ass hole. We went back to his house where he cleaned me in the shower gave me a big kiss and put me to bed.

The next day since my ass hole was already stretched my Master tried the dog dildo on me. It was very long but the knot just would not go in, it was too big even for my used ass hole. The length and strange shape did feel good. We pumped again, I can’t get over my huge balls, and I returned home sore but satisfied. I couldn’t wait to get back the next weekend.

The weekend started the same, enter strip, collar. After dinner the gown was put on and in the car we went. This time we drove out into the countryside. We pulled into a long drive leading to a secluded house. This was a friend of my Master, we left the robe in the car and I was led naked to the house. We entered and sat for some small talk. After a while my Master’s friend said let’s get started and I was led into a large den type room where I saw him. Him was a large dog. I don’t think he was a pure bred anything just a large dog like a Rotweiler or something. Buster was his name. I was placed over a small padded bench in the middle of the room, resting on my stomach my ass sticking out. The Master’s friend rubbed something on my balls and ass. As soon as he opened the jar the dog perked up and smelled the air. “Buster” moves to me and began to lick my balls and ass. I was rock hard at the thought of what was going to happen. My master slipped his hand between the dog and me and lubed my ass hole. It was going to happen, after all the stories I read and videos I watched on the Internet that turned me on so much I was about to fucked by a dog.

You cannot imagine how good it feels when the dog lays on your back with his very warm and furry body. It is like a living blanket. My own dick was about to explode when the dog’s owner lined the dog’s dick up with my ass. I want to tell you it is not very easy to be fucked by a dog. Their dick keeps slipping out as they hump very fast. With a little help from the dog’s owner he managed to keep the dog’s dick pumping in me pretty well. It is a fantastic feeling because the dog moves so fast and generates so much heat. My ass hole kept trying to suck the dog dick in me and keep it. Remember I could not take the canine dildo’s knot so I thought no way a real dogs knot would fit. However with the owners pushing and the knot being slightly smaller combined with plenty of lube the knot went in me.

You might not know this but after it enters the bitch it sort of turns sideways to stay in. It didn’t hurt for it to do this but there was no way it would come out without ripping me apart. Just after the knot turned and locked the dog in me, the dog began to come. It was more than I could have dreamed, it thinner that people come, and it just kept squirting. I felt so full. The dog then turned around swiveling his dick in me till we were ass to ass. I had to stay this way for about thirty minutes till the knot turned around and the dog could break lose out of my ass. The dog come then gushed out of my ass for about a minute and a half. I was so satisfied and happy. I hoped to do this again many times. It was especially great when the dog licked my dick and ass clean.

We alternated situations like these for several months, it was great. I had huge balls, was regularly fucked and I loved sucking dicks. But things were about to change and this is why this story is in the Eunuch Archive. It started a few months ago; I was living a regular life in my town and my weekends in my Masters city getting fucked and pumping. I began to feel soreness in my balls. They became very sensitive. I finally had to see an urologist. I chose to find a doctor in another city since my new lifestyle may have factored in to my problem. As luck would have it the doctor turned out to be gay and was very understanding.

The catch was my sore balls had nothing to do with my life style. It was a congenial birth defect something about my cords being tensioned. He said it was amazing that it didn’t bother me before. My balls were not getting enough circulation and constant pain would be the result. It would be like being kicked in the balls all the time. The remedies are heavy use of pain killing drugs with their side effects or double orchiectomy (take out my balls). They could put fake balls back in my sack so I would not look different and I could take testosterone to keep my masculinity. I thought about this and discussed it with my Master. Remember at the beginning of my saga reading about castration was a turn on for me. Now I had to make a choice give up the huge balls I get from pumping or constant pain. I decided to give up my balls.

Now the decision was how, when and where. The doctor was great he understood my dilemma and would help in anyway. The only way he was allowed to operate was thru the abdomen and besides that was the only way to remove my cords which were the real problem anyway. The doctor helped big time in two ways. First, he agreed to save my balls and return them to me even though it is against medical rules. He also contacted a plastic surgeon in the gay community to remove my sack and make me smooth below my dick. It helped that the urologist owned his own clinic with a surgical suite. I scheduled the surgery and took a months vacation and sick leave. Another handy thing was since it was a medical necessity to remove my balls my insurance was paying for it. The doctors agree to manage the plastic surgeons fees in the bill to insurance. My Master agreed to help me recover. My children thought it was hernia surgery.

Now I come to today, two months later. I am officially a eunuch. My stitches are gone and were my balls used to be is a fine little scar with still a little redness. My Master and I decided no hormones. My dick has already shrunk to the size of a big clit, no more fucking for me (like the look however, just a little button at the top of my groin). My hips are rounder and easier for my Master and others (including the dog) to grip. And another part I really, really like is my little breasts. They are so pretty. My nipples have gotten much bigger and I get so turned on when they are sucked. It is much easier to keep hair off my body since it has stopped growing dark and coarse. My whole body seems more sensitive. My weight has dropped to about 140 lbs. If I wear something tight I have the body of a girl.

I still live and go to work in my city. Nobody knows my secret, they think I was sick and lost weight. I wear baggy clothes to work. On the weekends I go to my masters. I am still naked and collared as soon as I enter. He still likes to fuck me and I like to suck him. We go to the gay bar about once a month, where they really like to feel me up. I don’t think as many want to fuck me as before. I must look too much like a girl now. I would like to dress like a girl but my Master pretty much keeps me naked so clothes aren’t necessary. I really love more than ever being fucked by the dog (or dogs I should say there have been more since the first). I do sometimes miss my pumped up dick. I can come rubbing my nubbin dick but it’s not the same. I don’t get that feeling when the come shoots out. But other sensations make up for it.

So that’s my story up to now. I started out being turned on by eunuch stories, moved to pumping and big balls and being fucked. Then in a round about way ended up a real gay eunuch and loving it. I want to get pictures posted on some web page soon so everyone can enjoy me.

Oh by the way, my Master brought my balls home in a jar and prepared them, then sautéed them and I ate one the he ate the other. Tasted good had the consistency of liver but was a delight anyway. I only regret I could only eat them once.

Thanks for sharing my saga.

Master and Slave 2

Twink Cuts Off Own Balls

The night after castrating and sending my former slave off to his fate, I slept well, knowing that I had done the right thing. Now, however, I was without a slave. Good slaves, the kind one keeps, are difficult to find. I resolved to select very carefully this time.

My search began on the ‘Net. Using my access to the highly secure “Masters Only” website, I posted a “Slave Wanted” notice. After a few weeks of no replies, I decided to check the usual haunts in the city – a none too enticing prospect. However, to my good fortune, I was greeted with the sight of a slight young Asian man moving into my building. He looked to be perfect slave material. He was in his early twenties, slender and very feminine in his movements and gestures. His attitude suggested a wealthy upbringing. Often, wealthy Asian families “exile” their gay offspring to New York City, where they fit into the culture readily. At home, they would be an embarrassment, causing loss of face and scandal. This young man was just moving in. It was mildly amusing watching him order the moving company personnel around with his effeminate gestures and high-pitched voice.

Later, I asked the doorman which apartment he had taken. I was told “11C,” in a tone that indicated displeasure, probably over an insufficient gratuity, certainly not over his sexual orientation.

I let my candidate settle in for a few days, and then prepared a note which read “If you want a good master, be in the lobby on Friday at noon wearing a red kerchief around your neck.” This, I slipped under his door after I had seen him leave the building with his dog. I waited the few days until Friday, then went down to the lobby at noon. He was there, a blazing red scarf wrapped around his slim neck. I walked over, smiling. His face lit up. “I was hoping it would be you,” he said. “Come with me. Now,” I told him firmly. Obediently, he followed me into the elevator and, after the ride up, into the foyer of my apartment. I explained the necessity of a blood test before he was initiated. This he understood and agreed to. I tied off his right arm, painted the inside of his elbow with antiseptic, punctured one of his veins and withdrew several tubes of blood for testing. He let me do all this without resistance. I packaged the tubes, called the lab for pickup, then had the doorman come fetch the package from outside my apartment. The results, which I hoped would be negative, would be phoned to me tomorrow morning. That out of the way, I began to explain what was expected of him. Absolute obedience without any discussion was the first requirement. No matter how unpleasant the task seemed, he was to undertake it immediately and without argument. As my slave, he would be well cared for but his unwavering devotion was expected at all times. Displeasing me would result in long, painful punishments the like of which he couldn’t even imagine. I explained to him what I had done with my previous slave. He understood. I also explained that I would be removing his balls as soon as the test results came back. At first, a little fear blossomed in his eyes, but that was soon swept away by a look of complete submission.

Ordered to strip, he did so quickly. He pirouetted, spread his butt cheeks for my examination. His balls were medium sized, hung in a small sac just below his uncut penis, which was none too large in length or diameter. His body was slender and firm, his skin was healthy. His hair was a bit too long for my taste. The overall impression was one of a restrained urge to please in any way possible. I approved. If the tests worked out, he would make an excellent slave.

To my question about how he had come to move into my building, he answered that one afternoon his father had caught him in the throes of passionate lovemaking with a boy from his school. He and the other boy had been beaten unmercifully. Because his partner was of the lower classes, his punishment had been less severe. To avoid embarrassment to his wealthy family, he had been taught English by a female tutor and had not been allowed in the presence of any other male, except his Father, while he was being educated for his exile to our country. He told me that he had missed his friend, but that he realized that there was no way for him to have any such relationship in his country. His family had set up a trust fund to cover his needs, purchased an apartment for him to live in and told him never to try to get in touch with them again. His father was looking forward to being notified of his death from AIDS. He went on to say that he had long dreamed of being subjected to the will of a strong male and that he hated his testicles and wanted them removed. In all, he seemed the perfect slave candidate.

I explained to him that he was always to address me as “master” and that I would always address him as “slave,” since I would have only one slave at a time. He accepted this with a “Yes, Master.” We retired to separate rooms for the night.

The lab called the following day to let me know that he was negative for HIV and other venereals tested for. It was time to get to work.

Several years ago, I had had a soundproof room constructed in my apartment for the purpose of disciplining slaves without disturbing my neighbors. The room had an adjustable restraining table, a small surgical sterilizing facility, a video camera, TV and VCR for recording, a microwave and other equipment, such as ceiling and wall hooks. The room had its own plumbing. It was painted in white enamel and all the hardware was of stainless steel. Clean and efficient. Over time, I had castrated a number of other masters’ slaves as well as two of my own.

In preparation for harvesting his glands, I had my slave bathe in hot water to soften and loosen his scrotal skin. Using antiseptic soap, I washed off his entire body and carefully depilated his scrotum. He enjoyed this prepping and became fully erect as I escorted him into my special room. Forbidden to speak, he had given several gasps of pleasure while bathing and being cleaned. At the sight of the table, he let his towel fall to the floor and turned to me with a questioning look. Without a word, I turned him around to face the table, adjusted it to his height, inserted his erection into the hole provided and strapped his legs down firmly, spread apart so that his sac hung down and was easily accessible.

Because I like to operate in silence, there was an inflatable heavy rubber gag supplied by a hose near the table. This I took and placed into my slave’s mouth, on top of his tongue, then turned a stopcock to allow compressed air to inflate the gag. The valve allowed air to flow into the gag. Deflating it was accomplished by unscrewing another valve in the gag. Shortly, the gag filled his mouth. He couldn’t cry out and could breathe only through his nose. I applied the arm and head restraints. I moved the TV in front of the table and opened up the eye slot so that he could see the screen. Next, I positioned the video camera so that an image of his hanging balls appeared on the screen. Completely gagged and tightly restrained, he could watch his own castration.

From the way he was suggestively moving his butt, I could tell that he wanted me to fuck him. I decided to fuck him until he came, holding my own orgasm until he was fully my slave. Using jojoba oil as a lubricant, I inserted myself into his tight butt hole, slowly working my way in. It felt good. It took a lot of pressure to make his sphincter give way, and the slave gave a muffled cry as I suddenly advanced my full length up into him. With willpower, I held myself back, using my prod to massage his prostate until I felt it pulse repeatedly against my cockhead. Although I couldn’t see, I knew that his dick had jetted his last sperm-bearing load out onto the floor under the table. Pulling out immediately, I washed off my cock with antiseptic solution, then painted his dangling sac with antiseptic all the way up and back to his butt hole. Now he was ready. A hair dryer set at maximum heat provided the stream of hot air that loosened his sac and made his balls dangle far from his body. I made a small cut parallel to where his scrotum joined his body. With a small pair of surgical scissors, I snipped carefully around the sac where it joined his body, being careful to cut only the sac skin. When the circle was complete, I tugged his scrotum free, leaving his small balls dangling by their cords from his body. They looked like pinkish-gray cherries hanging there, waiting to be picked. Using my electrocautery needle, I sealed up the bleeders in the circular sac wound. To simplify his nutting, I twirled his balls around each other until the cords formed a single braid. This I sutured off as close to his body as possible. “Are you ready to give up your balls, slave?” He nodded his head. With a single swipe of the scalpel, I harvested his manhood. Working quickly, I cauterized the ends of the cords, then ran a suture in and out of the skin all the way around the open cut where his sac had been. With one finger, I pushed the cords back up into his body, then drew the suture very tight, closing the sac wound like a purse. I tied off the suture and spent a few minutes cauterizing any spots that looked as if they might bleed. When the wound healed, my slave would have a small roseate scar just below the base of his penis instead of a sac containing balls. A big improvement for a slave, believe me. I painted the area with antiseptic again. Now it was my turn. First, I loosened the straps that were immobilizing his legs. After painting my sac with antiseptic to avoid spreading infection, I inserted myself into his backside again and took my pleasure as the first man to have this eunuch slave. My pleasure was enhanced by his rapid movements, and, after a few minutes I emptied my balls up his ass with a great cry of release. A fully satisfying orgasm, one I would not soon forget.

I deflated his gag and freed him from the restraints. He stood up and looked at me expectantly. “Clean up the room. When you are finished, bring me your severed parts,” I ordered. After about twenty minutes, he presented me with his severed balls in a small stainless steel bowl.. My inspection revealed that he had done an excellent job cleaning up. Everything was sterilized and back where it belonged. An excellent job. This slave would serve me well. I picked up his dead balls. “Open your mouth, slave!” I placed his balls into his open mouth and closed it. “Now, chew and swallow.” He did so. So began his life as my eunuch slave.

A Story of a Rubber Slave’s Forced Training

I followed Alan down the steps into the dungeon. We both wore jeans and t-shirts and I began to feel nervous as I saw the various rubber suits and restraints hanging from the walls, and the cage and sling and rubber bed in the semi-darkness of the room.

“This is where you’ll live for the next month or so – or however long it takes me to train you as my rubber man” he said slowly and deliberately.

I was beginning to have misgivings. Should I have really signed that piece of paper that gave him complete control over my body and mind? Would there be any way of going back on it if things became too hard?

“Take off your clothes” he said.

I pulled off the t-shirt and jeans and sneakers and he put them in a cardboard box.

“You won’t be needing them for a long, long time” he said with a grin, “so I’ll keep them for you.”

I could tell from that grin that he was getting off on the power I’d given him. I’d always begged him to completely strip me of my identity and to make me serve him as a total rubber man. Now I was going to find out what it would be like.

I stood there naked in front of him – not cold though, as the dungeon seemed comfortably warm. He gave my semi-hard cock a gentle tug and his grin disappeared.

“Get into the gear I’ve laid out for you,” he said, pointing at a pile of folded rubbers on a table at the side of the dungeon, “and wait for your master.”

With that he turned and carried the box up the stairs and shut the heavy door behind him.

I walked over to the table and unfolded the rubbers. There was a suit with an all-round zip, a pair of gloves and a hood with eye-holes and a zip mouth. I pulled on the suit, already feeling turned on by the soft, clinging feeling. Then I slipped the hood on, zipping it tightly down the back of my head and fastening the collar. Finally I stretched the gloves back up my forearms.

I knelt down on the floor with my hands behind my back and waited for Alan to return.

I waited for ages. It seemed like over an hour, though it was difficult to tell in the warm silence of the room. I began to feel the moistness of sweat in my gloves and from the warm breath inside the hood.

Still I waited. I wanted to feel my cock – now hot and very hard – through the rubber. But I knew I mustn’t.

Then I heard the door. I heard the slow footsteps on the stairs. I didn’t look up. I knew he’d want me to be completely subservient and that was the best way I could think of showing it right then.

I saw his boots on the floor in front of me: gleaming, tall, rubber riding boots that almost reached his knees and the rubber jeans that came out of the top of them.

“Look up at me, slave.”

I looked up and saw him. My beautiful rubber master. My perfect rubber master. Tucked into his jeans was a shiny, tight rubber t-shirt and over that was a rubber biker jacket. His eyes gleamed lovingly – yet almost viciously down at mine – and his face was completely without expression.

“Have you anything to say, slave?”

“I love you master.”

“How much?”

“More than anything in the world master.”

“Will you let me do anything I want to you?”

“Yes master.”

“Whether it’s to turn me on, to service me, or even just because I get a kick out of it?”

“Yes master.”

He paused. As I looked at him he stared back and unzipped the mouth of my hood. It was only then that I noticed he was wearing tight rubber gloves too. He pushed one of them into my mouth – a couple of fingers first – and then nearly the whole fist till I almost gagged on it. But I just sucked on it for all I was worth. Tasting the strange taste of the rubber and loving the fact that he was already – in a small way – inside me.

With his other hand he unzipped the jeans and pulled out his big, hard cock. The end gleamed with pre-cum and he slowly pulled my hood onto it. It filled my mouth. It tasted beautiful. I worshiped it with my tongue and my lips.

As I played with it, my face being pressed hard into his shiny jeans by him, he began to speak.

“I am going to change you from the half-decent slave you are into my complete rubber slave. You will be perfect by the time I’ve finished training you. You will have no life, no face, no personality – but you will be perfect. You will live here in the dungeon encased in rubber and you will exist to serve my cock, to take my piss and to do anything that turns me on, no matter how degrading. I will dress you in whatever rubber gear I want – as many layers of it as I want – and you will be sealed into it, completely turned on by it and by your discomfort and you will be unable to do anything about it.”

I sucked harder on his gorgeous cock. It was getting harder (just as mine was) as he talked and thought about what he could do to me and I wanted it to just explode and fill my throat with white hot spunk.

Then he pulled my head away from it and pointed my face up towards his.

“Understand slave?”

“Yes master.”

He attached a leash to the collar on my hood and pushed me down onto all fours. I followed him as he showed me round the dungeon. First he pointed to the sling with loads of restraints and chain and rope hanging off it.

“I will fuck you in this sling. I will keep you restrained in it. I will lay back in it and have you rim me and suck me off in it.”

Then he pointed at restraints hanging from the beams and coming out the walls by the floor.

“I will fix you in these and use you as I want. I will leave you stuck in them for hours while I go clubbing and I will fuck you senseless in them when I get back”

He looked down at me, smiling wickedly. Then he pointed to the bed with the rubber sheets on it.

“Sometimes I will let you sleep on this bed” then he pointed to a small wooden box nearby, “though mostly you will sleep padlocked inside that. You will of course sleep in full rubbers, possibly with a butt plug up you and your cock and balls trussed up. You will wear fist mitts too so that you can’t get at yourself. Understood?”

I nodded, turned on and frightened in equal amounts.

Alan pointed to a small cage that was just high enough to stand in.

“I will keep you in there much of the time” he said. Finally he tugged on my leash and pulled me over to a large kind of a shower cubicle in the far corner.

“And this is where you will clean up whenever I tell you.”

He slowly walked back across the dungeon to the sling. I crawled behind him, dying for him to let me lick those boots. God, I thought. I love my master. How could I want anything but to be completely reinvented as his rubber man?

“Stand up” he said pulling on the leash. I slowly got up and we stared into each others eyes.

“We’ll start with something gentle – and then your torment begins.”

He maneuvered me back into the sling and tied the loose end of the leash to one of the chains that it hung from. He fastened my wrists and ankles tightly into the straps that hung from the chains and padlocked chains around my body and through the rings in my collar until I was securely fastened into the sling. He smiled as he pulled open the zip of my suit around my arse. He pulled his cock out again and smeared it with KY. I shuddered and groaned as he slowly pressed it into my crack, the muffled noises from my hood making Alan smile. Soon his cock was completely in and the intense, almost painful feeling made me heat up inside my suit. Alan leant forward slightly, put his hands over my shoulders and gently, ever so slowly, rocked my helpless, shiny rubber body full of tingling nerves back and forth onto him. He kept it slow for ages and ages as I sweated and whimpered and gazed out of my hood into his stern, beautiful eyes.

As he got faster and faster I looked at the sweat breaking out on him, my gorgeous, perfect rubber sadist. He let out a huge grunt as he finally shot his load into me and I shook violently with him. My cock was pressed hard against the inside of my clinging; wet rubbers and felt like it might just explode at any moment. I whimpered with anticipation.

Alan cleaned his cock off on a towel and put it back in his jeans. Then he zipped my suit back up and stood next to me, running his gloved hands all over my body while studying the way he could make me shudder with delight at the slightest touch.

“Did you enjoy that, slave?” he asked eventually.

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“And what do you want now? Tell me honestly”

“I want to come off, master.”

“Well you can’t. Not yet. You’re going to have to learn that the satisfaction of your cock means nothing. When you are finally my rubberman, you’ll want nothing more than to exist – sealed up in rubber – to serve my cock. You’ll forget that you’ve even got a cock of your own. Just as you’ll forget what it’s like not to wear rubber. What it’s like not to sleep in a box. What it’s like not to have a hood covering your head.”

“Yes master.”

“So what shall I do with you?” he said to himself after a pause, and continued feeling his way all over my suit, making sure he kept returning to my crotch so that I’d repeatedly arch up into all my restraints with a massive groan.

“I think we ought to start your training with some piss confinement, slave. What do you think?”

“Whatever pleases you master.”

“That’s better.” he said, pleased with my response.

One by one he took off the straps and chains and told me to stand up.

“Take the hood off” he said as he walked across to a rail with loads of suits, sleep sacks and straight jackets hanging from it.

As I pulled off the hood, streams of sweat ran from my hair and down my face. I looked at Alan. He held up a suit in front of me. It was made from heavy rubber and had feet and gloves as part of it. It also had a hood on it which had no eye-holes or mouth, but a number of tubes running from a raised area where the face should have been. A couple of them were small, thin tubes, another was a thick, corrugated one. There was a long dry-zip running up the back of the suit and I realized that it would be completely watertight.

“Shall I take this suit off first master?” I asked, as it was fairly hot just wearing the one layer.

“No,” he said, “and never speak unless I tell you to. Okay?”

I nodded meekly. Clearly I wouldn’t be allowed to suggest ways of making things easier on me in future.

“Get into it, slave.” he said, putting it on the floor.

I stepped into its feet and pulled the legs up. Then I found the arms and pushed my gloved hands deep down into them till they found the fingers at the end. It was a heavy suit, much thicker than the one I already had on and straight away I began to feel hot in it. Finally I pulled the head section back over my sweating scalp and everything disappeared into blackness. I could hear my breathing inside the small hollow space where all the tubes came in. The sound of the outside world was muffled and distant. I could hear Alan beginning to close the stiff, brass zip on the back of the suit.

I suddenly felt really claustrophobic and helpless. He really did have total control over me. There was nothing I could do. Although I felt frightened, my cock became rigid with excitement at being sealed up in a suit that was clearly designed to have people piss into it. I was surrendering to my master every last shred of dignity so that he could use me as some kind of human urinal. Presumably he needed a piss now, I thought. When the zip was fully shut and I was properly enclosed in my hot, heavy, rubber prison, Alan began to rub me all over again.

“You look beautiful, my slave. I might keep you in this a lot.”

It turned me on just knowing that it was turning him on doing such a degrading, sadistic thing to me.

“Come with me, slave.” he said and began to walk my unsteady body over to another part of the dungeon.

He pushed me down onto the floor and secured my feet with a pair of ankle-cuffs. Then I realized I was in the cage, because he pulled my arms between the bars and handcuffed them on the other side. Then he shut the cage door and I heard the metallic click of a padlock.

His voice was right next to the total blackness of my hood.

“I don’t need to piss right now,” he said, “but I probably will later. So you’ll be ready. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Good slave. You’d better get used to this kind of thing too, because this is how you’ll spend most of your waking hours: trussed up in rubber, waiting to serve me – either as my urinal, my cocksucker or my fuck piece.”

And then he was gone.

For hours there was just silence around me. All I could hear was the noises my suits made rubbing against each other and the slick rippling of the inner suit on my drenched body. My breathing sounded loud, filling the hot, heavy hood with its wetness. Although it was fairly comfortable to be sat down, my arms and legs ached with the positions they’d been secured in. More hours passed. God knows how many – maybe four or five.

Then I heard the door again and the boots coming down the steps. They seemed to take forever to cross the dungeon to me. My heart raced at the idea of being stuck in all this rubber and Alan filling it with his piss. My cock pressed itself against the suit.

Alan said nothing. I heard his jeans unzipping though and felt the thick, corrugated tube being lifted slightly.

There was a sudden rushing noise and then my master’s steaming hot piss gushed into my hood. Some poured into my open mouth, more splashed all over my face, neck and the shoulders of my inner suit. Some of it ran down inside against my skin, some outside over the shiny rubber. All of it showered into the heavy suit though: the rubber container that Alan had chained to the inside of the cage.

This was wonderful. Being put in total rubber enclosure (that I couldn’t possibly get out of) by the man I worshiped and having him fill up my suit with his piss. I almost came off as it rushed over me and into me.

Soon – and without a word – he was gone again and I was left in the silence once more. As well the sounds of my rubbers, I could now sense the atmosphere of this enclosed world. It reeked of piss and of sweat and of rubber. It filled the hood and my nostrils. I would have to learn to love this smell, I thought, as Alan would imprison me with it again and again.

After another hour or so – I think – he came back again. Once more he took a mighty piss down the tube. I almost laughed with pleasure at how good it made me feel to be showered by his fluids and to be contained in them like this. I wondered what I must look like to my master; this pathetic rubber figure chained up at his boots – totally faceless – with this tube that runs into the hood of his victim.

God, I loved him for doing this to me.

When he’d finished, I heard his rubber jeans creak softly as he crouched down beside me. He stroked my head.

“Good slave,” he said.

“You really are a good slave. You’ve been in that suit for quite a few hours now: you’re doing well. Now do you want me to let you out now or shall I shall I keep you in it for a while longer and do whatever I want for the rest of the evening?”

“Whatever you want, master” I said weakly into the hood.

“Good slave.” he said, stroking my head again and left me.

Soon after he’d gone, I found I couldn’t hold my own bladder any longer and pissed myself. Hot urine gushed up the inside of my suit, adding to the mess of sweat and pre-cum that already stuck it to my skin. Suddenly I felt like I wanted to cry. How could I do this to myself? Did I really want to live like this? Forever?

But I’d wanted this. Desperately. I’d wanted to become someone else – to become Alan’s rubber man. It was the greatest gift I could give him. It was the way I wanted to show how complete my love for him – my worship of him – was. To lose myself and become his object.

When he came back some time later he didn’t piss into my suit again, which I was expecting him to. He unchained me and led me to the shower cubicle. I stayed knelt down as he stood behind me and unzipped the suit.

“Wash and get naked” he said and shut the frosted glass door behind him before I could look up. As I pulled the suits off me, piss ran out into the shower tray, leaking from zips, falling out of the rubber limbs and streaming from my hair.

I rinsed the suits out and cleaned myself thoroughly. Then I hung the rubbers up on hangers just outside the cubicle. When I was completely dry I walked back out, naked, into the main part of the dungeon.

Alan lay on the bed, still in his rubber jeans and biker jacket, though he’d taken the t-shirt off. God, he was gorgeous. He looked every inch the master and I desperately wanted to suck him dry right there and then.

He held a cigarette in his right gloved hand and patted the shiny, black sheet with his left.

“Sit here, slave.” he said.

I sat naked on the rubber sheet. It felt good against my arse – all soft and horny. I looked at him – deep into his eyes as he continued to smoke and played with my hard cock and balls with his gloved hand.

“That feel good, slave?” he asked as he listened to my shallow, fast breathing.

“Yes master.”

“Want to come off now?”

“God yes, master.”

He smiled sadistically, knowing that I was at the point of just shooting my load all over his gorgeous, shiny gear.

“Well you’re going to have to do some good work with your tongue first. You can start with my boots.”

I licked those boots so hard, so lovingly. I worshiped them just like I worshiped his jeans and his jacket: his whole uniform – everything that made him look like the perfect sadistic master he was – the whole, shiny rubber uniform. I covered the jeans with my loving tongue too. The rubber tasted like sex. If I glanced up occasionally I’d see Alan looking at me, smiling. He knew just how much he controlled me – how much this training would allow him to do, just how far he could go. I knew from the smile that he was going to take me to hell and back” and he was going to get a pervy kick out of every bit of it.

He pulled me up towards him and shoved my face deep into his armpit and pulled the jacket over my head. I licked and licked while I felt his rubber gloves moving over my body, playing with my buttocks and my crack. Then I felt him pull my hands behind my back and snap handcuffs onto them.

He pulled me into a kneeling position next him and took his sweaty cock from out of the shiny, black jeans. I licked a load of pre-cum off the end of it and then felt his gloves tightening their grip on my head and him forcing my mouth deep over its length. Then he just kept pushing my head up and down, faster and faster and rougher and rougher on his cock until it shot a huge stream of hot, bitter cum down my throat.

He kept my face pressed down on it for a few minutes more as I drank up each last bit of gism that seeped from it.

“And now it’s your turn to come off slave,” he said and lay me back onto my restrained arms, wrapping his rubber-clad body around me. One glove moved over my mouth and pressed it firmly shut, while the other furiously wanked me off.

He whispered frantically into my ear between biting and kissing my neck.

“You’re going to wish you’d never signed that contract” I’m going to take you apart” experiment on your body” see what limits I can take you to” completely degrade you” torture you till you cry” I’m going to take away your identity, so you’re my nobody” my rubber slave”

I screamed into Alan’s glove as my cum sprayed up my chest and my body arched into his. I shook with ecstasy as he continued rubbing my cock slowly and gently till it had run out of gism.

I kissed his jacket and his nipples and his cock while he undid my handcuffs, so grateful he had let me come off.

He wiped up my spilt cum with his gloved hands and pushed them into my mouth so that I ate every last bit of my own load – the beautiful taste of rubber and cum.

“Thank you master. I love you.”

“Lick my boots,” he said, ignoring me.

Straight away, I rushed down to them and licked them with all the love I could muster. After a while he pulled me back up so that I lay next to him and we shared a cigarette silently. And while I had the ciggy, his rubber fingers played gently with my nipples till I had a raging hard-on again.

He’d obviously meant for me to get that hard-on because at that point he said “Get into that suit,” and pointed to one that hung near the bed. Obediently I slipped my body into it, finding that the zip was at the back and finished down between my legs. There was no zip or panel at the front. Alan zipped it up for me and played with the huge erection that pressed up against the inside of the front of the suit.

“It’s going to be hard for you in that suit tonight isn’t it, slave” he said, grinning cruelly at me. He strapped long fist-mitts onto me as well so that I had no chance of working the erection off.

“To the box, slave,” he said and pushed me onto all fours.

I crawled over to it as he walked beside me, and then I climbed into it.

He knelt down next to me and pulled out a rubber blindfold from inside the box. As he put it on me, I made sure the last thing I could see was his beautiful, cruel eyes. Then all was darkness.

“Say goodnight to your master’s cock, slave.” he said pulling my face slowly forward into his crotch.

I kissed and licked and sucked on it until it was hard, and he began to push my face into it again and again. Finally with a huge grunt he came in my mouth. I swallowed it and licked the remains off his knob.

His gloves cupped my face as he kissed my forehead.

“This is nothing compared to what happens tomorrow. Goodnight slave.” he said after a while.

“Goodnight master.” I replied.

He pushed me down into the rubber sheeting and closed the lid of the wooden box, securing it with two heavy padlocks and leaving me in the sweaty, dark silence – alone with my fears, my anticipation and my painful hard-on.

I was awake long before Alan came and unlocked the wooden box I’d slept in. The inside of my suit was drenched in sweat, and a huge load of pre-cum was smeared all around my cock which had refused to soften during the night. It had rubbed painfully up against my belly and the wet rubber of the suit, making it harder, making it leak more and more pre-cum as I tried to ignore it, my hands pathetically useless in the constricting, sweaty fist-mitts strapped onto my arms. It had been difficult to sleep at all in the stuffy confines of the box, my blindfolded head laid on an inflated rubber pillow and my soaking rubber-clad body curled up in a kind of fetal position. It was hot and uncomfortable and I still felt both frightened and excited by what might await me at the hands of my master now that I’d given him complete control over me.

I heard Alan undoing the padlocks that held the lid of the box shut and lifting it back. Straight away I could feel cooler, fresher air sweeping over my hot, wet body. He lifted me into a sitting position and took off my blindfold. As my eyes focused I could see him smiling at me out of a rubber hangman’s hood. The rest of his body was covered in a beautifully tight, shiny suit and gloves and waders. His gorgeous cock hung semi-hard from a small unzipped section of the suit, gleaming with pre-cum.

“Good morning, slave.”

“Good morning, master.”

“Get your mouth round my cock, slave” he said suddenly and sternly.

I quickly opened my mouth as he leaned forward over me while I still sat in the box. No sooner had my lips closed around his cock than it gushed a huge, hot wall of piss into my throat. I almost choked as it splashed around my mouth and filled it with a bitter, steamy taste. Alan’s gloves kept my head pressed firmly into his rubber crotch where he wanted it.

As I spluttered and gagged, trying to swallow as much of his juice as I could, it began pouring out of the sides of my mouth and down my suit. He pressed my head further down on his sweaty, rubbery knob as I continued drinking and choking on his piss.

He stopped and pulled his cock from my mouth, the smile back on his face, his eyes gleaming from inside the hangman’s hood. Then another burst of piss showered out, this time spraying my face and soaking my hair. Some stung my eyes, while more ran down into my mouth.

I’d never really liked the taste of piss – not unless it was pretty weak after a night on the booze – but I still worshiped it and wanted to taste it and drink it and be covered in it because it was HIS. It was like some fantastically obscene communion as I drank from his body, drank his waste – just to prove how much I loved him.

While I sat there, my head soaked in his hot piss, he picked up a hood from the floor next to him and zipped it tightly onto my head, buckling its collar roughly into place. It had no eye holes at all and fitted me perfectly – so tightly, filling my nostrils with the scent of rubber again and sealing in all that piss around my head and in my hair. It did, however, have a large open space for the mouth – much larger than the usual slits or zips.

“Are you really sweaty in that suit, slave?” he asked.

“Yes master, soaking.”

“Good” And you’re still hard from last night?”

“Yes master.”

“Let me feel” he said and began to grope my crotch really roughly, making me squirm with pleasure and bursts of agony as he played. This went on for a few minutes till I could hardly bear it and wanted to scream for him to stop when suddenly his hand was gone. A few seconds later I felt a leash being attached to my collar. He pulled me to my feet and walked me a few feet across the dungeon. I walked hesitantly and awkwardly, partly because of the lack of sight, partly because of the rubbing of my hard-on inside my suit.

Alan pushed me face down onto the bed while he – I think – sat down or laid down beside me, unzipping my backside and forcing a lubricated, rubber-gloved hand up into my crack.

“I want you to rub yourself off against the bed, slave.” he said, moving a finger around deep inside my arse. I moaned and whimpered and squirmed as it tingled and burned inside me.

With the fist-mitts on, it was difficult to make any kind of proper grip on the bed, but soon my tired, sweating body, cocooned in skintight rubber, was fucking the rubber sheets for all it was worth, breathing fast and shallow as I tried to reach orgasm without actually pissing myself at the same time.

Suddenly the muscles in my backside tightened round Alan’s fingers and my whole body seemed to go into spasm and I cried out loud a hoarse, wordless cry as hot cum splattered and shot up the inside of my suit. My cock seemed white hot and my limbs shook uncontrollably. My voice fell away and I was left, drenched and whimpering in the tight, wet void of my rubbers. My master slowly pulled out his fingers from my crack and gently stroked my back and my head. I could feel his rubber moving softly on mine and I loved him for putting me through such exquisite torment to pleasure the two of us.

“Good slave” he whispered against my hood, “good slave.”

He stroked me a while longer and then turned me over onto my back. I lay there, blinded and expectant as I heard his waders creaking next to me and felt his beautiful, suited body moving somewhere above mine.

Then he knelt down right over my face, one wader jamming in on either side of my head – his calves held my useless arms down on the bed – and unzipped the arse of his suit. In no time he had settled his crack down onto the opening in my hood. Rubbery sweat from his back and his crotch poured into my mouth.

“Rim me, slave! Rim me for all you’re fuckin? worth!” he shouted, wriggling his arse further into my face. I licked and licked, barely able to breathe underneath him, tasting his sweat and tasting his crack, thinking I was the luckiest man alive to have him – all rubbered up – shifting around on my face, lucky bastard slave that I am.

I could hear him moaning and grunting as I worked at his crack and soon his arms were reaching back and toying with my nipples – making me go at him even more frantically as my cock hardened once more.

Eventually he lifted himself off and I heard him playing with his zip.

“Mmmmm. Good slave.” he said as his body shifted somewhere above me. Then he settled down onto me again but a bit further back and I tasted a dangling strand of pre-cum that swung into my mouth.

“And now – as a reward for being so good you can have your breakfast. Do you want me to give you your breakfast, slave?”

“Please master.”

“Well here it comes” he said viciously and rammed his cock deep into my mouth. I just lay there as he fucked my face, harder and harder and quicker and quicker. I moved my fist-mitts up behind him and stroked his buttocks as he plunged in and out of my throat.

“Aagh!” he suddenly shouted and, with a final jolt, shot a wave of hot spunk into me. I stayed still as he continued to move up and down on my face, slower and slower until he was exhausted and I had taken every last drop of his wonderful gism down.

After a while he got up off me and I heard him zipping his suit back up.

He pulled on my leash and helped move me up off the bed. I stood there completely disorientated in the blackness of the hood, still tasting his cum in my mouth as he slowly fingered my suit, playing with my nipples and running his gloves around my body, making me shudder with pleasure. Soon his hands reached the bulge of my cock and he rubbed it around, making it glide through the mess of spunk and sweat inside my suit. It was rock hard again and ached with every motion he made.

“It feels a bit messy in there, slave” he said, taunting me.

“Yes master. It is.” I replied feebly.

He continued playing with the bulge for a while, probably studying the way my mouth twitched as he turned it on more and more.

“Come with me” he said after a while and began to lead me across the dungeon. When we stopped he took the leash off my collar and began fixing restraints to my ankles, making sure my legs were spread slightly open. Then he lifted my arms up above me one at a time and, with them still enclosed in the fist-mitts secured them to some thick, padded restraints that were hanging from the ceiling on thick, heavy chains.

Then he unzipped my hood and took it off, putting aside on a table nearby. He came and stood in front of me, bringing a fearsome looking cat-and-nine-tails with him. He dragged its mass of rubber flails across one of his gloves, not taking his eyes off my face.

“I want to see your face while I do this” he said, a cruel smile appearing beneath the hangman’s hood and his beautiful eyes glinting at the pleasure he was about to have.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, slave” he said, “but I’m going to give you a fucking good whipping.” He tenderly touched the side of my soaking face with his glove.

“But you’ve got to learn to take any torture I decide to give you” no matter how severe. And also I’m just going to get a big turn-on out of giving you the most extreme sensations that you never even knew existed – and that you never thought you could bear.”

He began to run the whip across my chest and then my back and my arse as he walked around me. Soon his beautiful, suited figure was back in front of me.

“And if you’re wondering why I’ve not stripped you for this, it’s because it’s going to sting even more through all the rubber and sweat. Now be brave and take this like the perfect slave you want me to turn you into”

With that he started whipping my rubber-clad body, slowly at first, with intensely hot, stinging blows. At first I just made grunting noises and startled whimpers, but as the frequency and viciousness of the lashes increased I began to scream out loud. Not for mercy. Not for him to stop. But just because it was the only thing I could do.

He beat me all over: on my arse, up my back, on my nipples and on my crotch. Tears of agony streamed from my eyes as my body swung violently in the restraints, jumping at the explosions of pain that came with each blow. Through my tears I saw him stood in front of me in his suit and waders, swinging the lash across my hard-on, gritting his teeth, his eyes burning deep into mine. After a while – along while – he stopped and my exhausted body hung limp in front of him as I cried uncontrollably at the washes of painful heat that spread out inside my suit. He put the whip away on the table and came back to me. I wanted him to kiss me but he just looked at the restraints and began to undo them one by one. When he’d taken them all off I just stood there. He put one of his gloved hands on top of my head and pushed me down onto my knees.

“Good slave” he said as he undid the zip around his crotch and pulled out a huge, hard cock, streaming with pre-cum.

“Good slave” he kept repeating as he pushed my face onto it.

I sobbed as I sucked on him, realizing just how complete an experience he was going to make this for me. That pain was for real but he was doing it because I’d wanted to go through anything for him. He was just making sure I did go through everything for him.

His body jolted as he came in my mouth: warm, comforting spurts that told me he was rewarding me for the pain I’d gone through. The spunk kept coming – loads of it streaming in and rolling over my tongue and into the corners of my mouth. He kept my face pressed into his crotch for a while and then pulled me away so that I could look up at his beautiful, sadistic body and face.

The suit was skintight on him, as were the gloves, and his eyes were so intense they looked almost lit-up inside his hood. He smiled down at me.

“You did well, slave” he said, running a glove through my sodden hair, “but you reek of piss.” He patted my head and walked away to the rail with all the suits and sleep sacks hung from it. He spoke as he rummaged through the gear.

“I’m going out shopping for a few hours so I’m going to have to leave you on your own and I don’t want you playing with yourself and trying to satisfy your own cock when you should be thinking of me”

He walked back over to me carrying a heavy rubber straight jacket.

“Stand up, slave.”

I stood up and held out my arms, still sheathed in the tight fist-mitts, as he held up the straight jacket and put it onto me, feeding my arms deep into its long sleeves. Straight away the thickness of it heated me up even more than I already was and sweat began rolling from my hair, bringing the remains of my master’s piss with it.

He walked round behind me and zipped it up. Then before doing up all the straps, he opened the arse of my suit and pushed a heavily lubricated vibrator up it. I groaned as it made its way deep inside me and he strapped it into place with a tight crotch harness that it was attached to. Then he fastened all the straps on the straight jacket extremely tightly, padlocking each of them shut. He did the same for the straps that went between my legs and the buckles and fastenings on the end of the sleeves. Finally he firmly locked up the stiff rubber collar of the straight jacket and walked round in front of me.

The constriction was making me ache already: this might well be a very long few hours for me, I thought.

Alan walked me over to the cage and sat me down in it, locking the door of it as he left. Then he knelt down next to me and I gazed deep into the eyes that sparkled from inside the hangman’s hood as he smiled at me.

He held up a small plastic device with a button on it.

“Oh, and this is how I’m going to make sure you’re thinking of me while I’m away” he said and pressed the button down.

The vibrator started up and my body jolted as my hard-on sprang up against the inside of my suit. I moaned. Then it stopped again.

“Now stay there, won’t you” he said with the cruelest smile on his beautiful face. God I loved him for reducing me to this. God I loved him for having this much control over me. I nuzzled my face up to the gloved hand that held one of the bars in front of me and he watched, smiling at his pathetic and willing victim, as I kissed and licked it for minute after minute.

He leaned his face into the bars and kissed me with a long, tender kiss.

Then without a word he got up, turned around and left me, switching the lights out as he closed the cellar door behind him.

I lost track of time really, totally disorientated by the dark and the silence and aching from the severity of the straight jacket’s tightness and the soreness of my whip marks in the clammy wetness of my suit.

But after some long while I heard what I thought was the main door to the house shutting as he left.

The vibrator buzzed and throbbed as it burst into life, rubbing up against my prostate. I pictured Alan in his suit and waders brandishing the whip – and straight away I let out a huge, agonized moan as a fresh load of hot cum sprayed up the inside of my rubbers, my body squirming around in the cramping, padlocked security of the straight jacket.

I couldn’t believe how much pain I was in from just being slumped there in the cage for so long. My skin felt sore and still smarted in the dampness of my suit from the vicious beating from Alan’s cat-and-nine-tails. My chest and arms ached with the constriction of the straight jacket, padlocked so tightly onto my helpless body and my arse ached from the thick vibrator strapped into it. I sat there for hour after hour, sweating in the darkness, drinking the streams that rolled down my face to try and quench my dry throat. I leaned my temples against the cold steel of the cage bars to cool them down and shifted uncomfortably in my gism and all the other mess that was building up in my suit.

I thought I heard the distant noise of the front door as he returned but he didn’t come down to the dungeon for another two hours or so. I had no idea of what time it might be: there would be no daylight – only the light and dark that he decided I should have.

Finally I heard the heavy door to the dungeon being unlocked and his boots coming down the steps once he’d shut it behind him. The lights came on and I squinted for some time, trying to adjust after such a long period of total darkness. When I was eventually able to see, I found that he was stood near the cage just staring at my pathetic, hunched form. He was wearing the one-piece suit and waders again, with gloves and the rubber hangman’s hood completing his outfit. He looked so severe and so powerful – I smiled weakly at his beautiful, perfect, masterful figure.

“How are you, slave?” he asked after a long silence.

“Aching, master.” I replied.

He just smiled with an obvious satisfaction.

Then he unlocked the cage and lifted me into a standing position and helped me to walk slowly towards the restraints that hung from the ceiling. This time he didn’t reach for the wrist restraints but let down some wider ankle restraints on another set of chains.

“Lie down on your back, slave.” he said, and I clumsily made my way down onto the floor, still in my suit and straight jacket.

“Put your feet up in the air” he said sternly.

I did so, and he secured my ankles in the restraints. Then he went over to the wall and used a pulley to raise them further and further up until I was basically resting my shoulders and upper back on the floor, my legs strained and dangling from up near his chest. He walked over to the table and fetched the riding crop. He stood virtually over my face, looking into my terrified eyes as he tapped the crop against the open palm of his glove.

“I never want to hear you tell me you’re aching, slave” he said angrily and lashed the crop across my bollocks. I screamed out loud with the intensity of the pain and my straight jacketed torso swung wildly with the shock.

“I want only to hear you worshiping me! Understand?” he said as he whipped my scrotum again. I screamed once more.

“I said do you understand, slave?” he shouted and swung the crop right across my cock.

“Yes master!” I managed to cry back before screaming with the stinging of the blow through the drenched suit on my tender flesh.

He walked around behind me and flogged my arse with all his might. My muscles clenched on the vibrator and I lurched pathetically around on my shoulders, trying to avoid the worst of the beating. He wouldn’t let me avoid it though, and just kept beating me and beating me till he could hear how hard I was crying and that my body was so exhausted it just hung limp and shook with each new blow.

He stopped and walked around to stand over my face again, pointing the crop down and rubbing my face with it.

“Are you sorry, slave?”

“Yes master, I’m sorry. I love you.” I replied, sobbing.

“Thank me for punishing you then”

“Thank you master.” I said quietly and reverently.

“Good slave” he said, beginning to smile again, “I punish you to teach you a lesson and you must thank me for teaching you, mustn’t you slave?”

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“Now lick my waders, slave”

Although it was difficult to move myself in the straight jacket, I managed to lean my head over and set my tongue to work on the heavy, industrial rubber of my master’s waders. My dangling body – a shiny, black mass of straps and padlocks twitched and swung as I tried to keep my face leaned into his boots.

After a while he knelt down over me and just felt me through the straight jacket, feeling how tight it was on me, rattling all the padlocks, getting turned-on at how trussed up I was and slowly moving his gloved hand up to massage my sore cock. I whimpered and shivered at the mixture of pain and relief he gave me and wanted to shout out how much I loved him – but I knew I must keep silent unless he told me to speak.

Then, still knelt over me, Alan undid the zip of his suit so that just his crack was showing and, without a word, lowered himself down onto my face.

I rimmed him deep and hard, showing how good a slave I could be – hardly able to draw breath most of the time, gasping frantically at the hot, sweaty air trapped inside his suit. My tongue flicked around inside his crack while he used his mouth to suck on – and play with – my genitals even though they were imprisoned in my skintight rubbers.

I heard him moaning as I kept on rimming him, and I kept letting out small whimpers as he gently bit on my nads through the suit.

Then he moved himself off me and walked off to the chains and pulley at the wall. As he pulled on the chains my body was slowly lifted clear of the floor altogether, and he kept working at the pulley for a while, zipped his backside up again whilst unzipping his cock and then walked back over to me.

I dangled upside-down, completely helpless in the straight jacket with his wet, hard cock dribbling a long strand of pre-cum right in front of my mouth. His rubber gloves stroked my hair for a moment and then grabbed my head tightly and plunged it down onto his shaft.

He pumped my head back and forth onto its length as I gagged and spluttered. His motions became quicker and I heard him sighing and groaning as he came closer and closer to orgasm.

He stopped suddenly as he groaned really loudly, keeping my head pressed absolutely into his suit – the whole length of his cock filling my mouth. Then it just exploded into my throat with a huge wash of hot cum. I almost choked on it and tried to struggle my way free, but he just held me there and a few seconds later another burst arrived. A third followed soon after with a final, exhausted jolt and he slowly relaxed his grip.

As I swallowed all that was left, he pulled up a chair in front of me and found a cigarette on the table by the wall. He lit it and sat down, smoking it as he calmed down – staring at the sight of me hanging upside-down in front of him in a suit and straight jacket, licking the remains of his gism from my lips.

He smiled as he smoked and we gazed at each other in complete silence: him, probably enjoying his handiwork at total restraint – and me, worshiping him for every way he could use me as his rubber slave.

He put down the cigarette in an ashtray for a moment and slowly lowered my ankles to a position where he could safely undo the restraints. He pulled me up by the heavy, steel D-ring on the front of the straight jacket’s collar and dragged me over to the chair. He made me kneel between his legs and lick his sagging, juicy cock while he continued smoking, and with his free hand he ruffled and stroked my messy, wet hair.

After a while he moved me back onto the floor so that I lay on my back in front of the chair. It was a bit uncomfortable because of the tight strapping and buckles and padlocks down the back of the straight jacket but it still felt like a resting position. Alan zipped up his suit again and sat back down, prizing my legs apart with his waders. He lit another cigarette and sat there in complete silence watching me, grinding my crotch around with both his boots. I moaned and whimpered, looking up at him occasionally to see his satisfied grin beaming from beneath the hangman’s hood.

“You’ve had that suit on since last night, haven’t you slave?”

“Yes master.”

“Are you hot in it?”

“Yes master.”

“And messy?”

“Yes master.”

“Good. I want you to get used to feeling like that.”

He continued massaging my knob and balls with his waders for a while and then lifted up the radio-control device for the vibrator that was still strapped to me.

“I think it’s about time you messed up your suit a bit more” he said, and pressed the button down as his waders played harder and harder with my tackle.

I grunted and groaned as my arse tightened and twitched on the vibrator. I couldn’t hold it any longer: my eyes shut, my whole body arched up from the floor and hot, painful gism shot up my belly.

After I had stopped groaning and settled down into a limp, rubber body on the dungeon floor again my master stood up and turned me over. As he slowly undid all the padlocks and straps he spoke to me.

“You can go to bed in your little box now. You’ll stay in the suit till tomorrow. And you can have a lie-in tomorrow morning ’cause I’ve got some workmen in: something I organized while I was out today. But I’ll come and get you up after they’ve gone and we’ll continue your training.”

It was only once the straight jacket was pulled off me that I noticed I was still stuck in the fist-mitts. Alan slowly and delicately unstrapped and removed the vibrator and zipped the arse of my suit back up.

“Bet your arse is sore, isn’t it slave?” he asked.

“Yes master.”

“Good. I’m going to train it to take me anytime, so it’ll probably be sore a lot more times over the coming weeks. Now, let’s put you to bed”

He made me crawl on the floor behind him as he walked over to the wooden box and opened it up. I stepped into it and laid my head on the rubber pillow.

“Sweet dreams, my slave.” he said and closed the lid, leaving me in darkness.

“I love you” I heard him say as he snapped shut the heavy padlocks on the lid of the box. Even after all that exertion and coming-off, I was hard again. I was also drenched in sweat and cum inside my suit and my hair reeked of my master’s piss.

It was going to be another long night.

I found it difficult to sleep that night. Not surprising given the heat inside the box and the mess of juices that seeped around me in my suit. All the places where Alan had thrashed me so hard – my cock and balls, my buttocks, my back and my tits – were hot and sore, and the inside of my arse ached after having had the vibrator up it for so long. Even my arms still ached from the time they’d spent so tightly strapped up in the straight jacket. All I could smell in the confines of this tiny, secure cell was rubber, sweat and piss.

I was exhausted though, and after a few hours desperately trying to get comfortable – shifting around in a mess of gism – I finally fell asleep.

The Lengthy Denial Section 2

The entire dynamic of the connection between you and James has vastly modified since that night time. For starters James stored the chastity cage on you repeatedly and he began dressed in the important thing, your key, on his necklace like a way accent or a mark of dominance in your lifestyles. With that key now in his ownership he began to stay extending the duration between every liberate to a virtually maddening period of time.

To start with it was once only a 5 day paintings week, with a complete liberate on Friday nights and recaging on Sundays. Then one Friday some a non-public match got here up with you and also you requested, pleaded, to reschedule for Saturday. Which James was once glad to house.The next week, despite the fact that you have been loose for Friday night time, James held you on your now customary Saturday releases.

A couple of weeks later, James was once out of the town for a Friday/Saturday shuttle and your scheduled liberate day changed into Sunday afternoons, simply earlier than you have been recaged for the beginning of the brand new week. Then there have been some weeks the place James would ghost you for all of the Sunday, most effective to answer you that Monday morning.

You, for higher or worse, have began to bodily and mentally adapt to the brand new adjustments along with your lifestyles. Along with your frame slowly forestall getting sore from the consistent pull from the load of the cage and your thoughts for probably the most phase, simply accepting that that is how it’s now. You even stuck your self a couple of instances even forgetting that you simply had your cock and balls helplessly locked away in an unforgiving steel cage.

You had additionally slowly were given keep an eye on of your urges they usually didn’t transform that a lot of a distraction with paintings and your productiveness however all that psychological fortitude is going out the window when James is round. Simply listening to his voice pushes you into overdrive, and doesn’t lend a hand that he has repeatedly began upping this dominance over you by way of swing by way of paintings to discuss with you, flirting with you round your paintings buddies and ever so casually flashing your key on his necklace.

The worst phase was once when James would begin to invite himself on your position after his shift and spend the night time there looking at TV, enjoying in your recreation methods and snacking in your meals, all the time unannounced. Whilst he was once there he would all the time habits himself so playfully and painfully unaware of your rising agony and anticipation, even going so daring as to whip out his personal dick and get started rubbing in proper subsequent to you in your settee. He was once all the time be offering when you sought after to suck if, “when you truly sought after.” he would all the time tag on on the finish with mock sincerity.

Some nights when you went down on him James would liberate you and can help you excitement your self to crowning glory as a ‘particular deal with’. Different nights he would end deep at the back of your mouth, then zip up his pants and proceed the night time striking out in your settee, like not anything ever took place.

This Thursday was once a type of nights and shortly he began to stand up and make his approach against the door with hardly ever a point out or a thank you. You have got discovered to check out to stay your self sane throughout the ones nights you have been locked away on my own at your house, however you have been nonetheless seeking to regulate your self for the disgruntlement of a fruitless night time after he ‘gives’ you to suck him off. It’s been this 3rd week locked in, with the previous two Sunday’s James purposefully ghosting you. With all that mounting force and frustration of being denied an opportunity to climax another time you after all snap, “When are you going to let me fucking Cum!?” you shout at him as he’s about to open the door.

Large mistake.

James stopped mid step in his stride, along with his again to you, you might be undecided if he was once surprised, shocked or indignant at your out of line remark. After a terrifying second of silence from James, he became round and addressed you in an icy chilly remark, “If you wish to cum such a lot. Then you definately’ll get precisely that, day after today”

Nervousness accompanied you for the next paintings day. ‘What did he imply by way of that remark?’ ‘does he have one thing deliberate?’ ‘is he truly going to let me out and cum, simply because i stood as much as him?’ All the ones ideas and extra stored floating on your head as you attempted your very best to concentrate on the day-to-day paintings duties of your activity.

Pondering, borderline hoping that James would now not apply thru along with his promise remaining night time. However because the clock caught remaining time, at the dot, you won a textual content message from James. All it stated was once “Head over. It’s time to unencumber you for the night time.”

You catch your self that specialize in the remaining a part of the message, unlocked for the night time? You haven’t been unlocked for that lengthy in months. Normally James relocks you once you end cleansing up in your Sunday night time releases. Your center begins to race with pleasure, praying that it’s now not a trick.

You hurriedly get into your automobile and race at once to James area however as you stepped from your automobile all that enthusiasm and pleasure was once drowned out by way of dread and hesitation of what’s precisely goes to occur at the different aspect of the entrance door. Weighing your choices of this example of going thru with this or simply ditching his direct invitation, With a pressure out of your cage you recognize that leaving now would reason far more bother for you later. He may even break your key when you stood him up.

You’re taking a deep breath, pass to ring the doorbell

James opened the door right away with a grin and your key in hand. Prior to may just even say a phrase, he grabbed by way of the collar of your paintings blouse and dragged you in the course of the doorway. You get the impact that he was once status at the different aspect of the door, ready as you have been caught in considered your scenario.

He forcefully pulls you in and brings you instantly into the lounge and throws you at the sofa. With James looming over you, staring you down, he after all shall we out the phrases, “So that you don’t love it going see you later with out cumming, isn’t that proper?” You sheepishly attempt to express regret and backpedal earlier than he cuts you off, “No we each heard your little outburst the day gone by. I assume 3 weeks is slightly too lengthy for you,” you blush in embarrassment and solid your eyes downward.

“That’s why I determined this weekend, I’m going to devote all of my time and effort making you cum again and again” You perk up in disbelief, you virtually didn’t consider your eyes as you noticed James knelt on his knees down directly to the ground under you as he began unzipping your pants and peeling off your pants and underpants to show your chastity cage. With the silver key in hand he is going in to unencumber it and you’re feeling absolute reduction as you revel in that jail get got rid of out of your frame and listen to the steel clattering sound of the cage touchdown at the flooring. Your cock rushes to face erect with it’s new discovered freedom as you’re feeling the comfortable contact of Jame’s palms get started massaging your balls with knowledgeable care.

You set free an extended moan as your frame realizes that it’s in fact loose and begins pumping increasingly more blood down against your cock for an extended wanted erection. James therapeutic massage slowly remodeled right into a complete on handjob, and he skillfully runs his palms up and down your whole shaft, as he coos candy phrases of care as he attends to you.

It didn’t take lengthy to your balls to start out pumping out top rate precum, that began swelling up at the tip of your cock and began cascading downwards over James’s repeatedly shifting palms. “Oh you’re truly pent up, aren’t you? I haven’t observed this a lot from you in ages, and that is just the beginning of all of it.” You sigh with settlement as you shut your eyes and throw your head again at the settee, taking in each superb second of this revel in.

It didn’t take lengthy earlier than it was once time so that you can cum. Your muscular tissues begin to twitch whilst you catch James asking the query, “You’re getting shut, aren’t you?” You moan in settlement and also you heard probably the most wonderful reaction “that’s alright, simply let all of it out.” You didn’t wish to be ordered to take action however your frame starts the method of your lengthy awaited climax, you’re feeling the sluggish force that was once construction inside you begins to extend at a fast tempo you shut your eyes close, soak up a deep breath and get ready for the discharge.

Simply because the cum begins to make its approach up and from your cock, you’re feeling one thing icy chilly is pressed proper on the most sensible of your dick, and every other frozen one thing pressed at the candy spot in your taint. You set free a began yelp as your frame instinctively clenches, which led to a complete shutdown of your cumshot. Your eyes spring open as you snap your neck down to look what in fact is going on.

Along with your blurred imaginative and prescient you spot James having a look again up at you, with a smirk on his face and an ice dice in every hand, urgent down arduous in your taint and cock head. You glance in regret as you spot your treasured cumshot get started unfortunately dribbling down your shaft.

In surprise and horror you take a look at James useless within the eyes. All he does is snigger, “You in truth idea you have been going to get a climax, scot-free, after you talked to me like that? Suppose once more” As he will get up, wiping his rainy hand in your pant legs

“Now pay attention,” he says as he plops proper down at the settee, throwing one in all his arm over you. “I’ve each purpose to devote my complete time and effort this weekend making you cum non forestall, That was once true. However I by no means stated that you simply have been going to benefit from the revel in.”

True to his phrase, he was once in your cock from that Friday night time to Sunday night time. Continuously bringing as much as complete mast earlier than discovering a method to destroy your climax. He was once smartly ready too, but even so ice, he has warmth packs, scrubby sponges and thick coarse leather-based gloves to accompany his hand jobs.

Later within the weekend he would handcuff you to the mattress and rotate all the ones strategies whilst you have been blindfolded, you to stay you at nighttime of what would come subsequent. He additionally broke out his personal vibrators to toy with you, to get your cock to face again up however he would both crank the vibration environment to max simply as you started to cum or would abruptly take away all of them on the remaining second, simply whilst you wanted it probably the most. You couldn’t make a decision which one was once the worst revel in

Quickly Sunday night time after all got here, after you probably did extra instances than that you must rely. Drained and spent all you’ll do is simply zone out at the sofa as James was once off making ready, what you hope wasn’t every other try to destroy every other one in all your orgasms.

When he returned he was once retaining your cage. With what it constitute you set free a sigh of reduction realizing that this was once all going to return to an finish, you wordlessly swing your legs open, letting him simple get entry to on your cock and balls.

As you heard the clicking of confinement James delivers you a robust phrase of caution, “Now don’t ever question me when you’ll climax once more, you understand I’m excellent for it. In case you ever snap at me once more, in poor health remember to fuck you so right kind that you simply get your orgasm, whilst nonetheless locked away on your cage. Do i make myself transparent?”

“Sure sir” you answer with renewed servitude

Becoming An Unwilling Piss Slave

 

From high school wrestling star to pathetic piss-bitch, it’s been quite a rapid descent for Card Stevens. In less than a year, he’s gone from big man on campus to a human urinal who spends his weekends in the bathrooms of a gay bar, sitting naked in his own piss while downing load after load of stinking bladder wastes from dudes he used to scorn as disgusting perverts. And even though he’s already swallowed enough pee in the last six months to float a battleship, he still blushes like a little girl every time a dude he knew in high school steps up, unzips, and unloads his stinking urine down Card’s frantically gulping throat. He’s an honest-to-God piss-bitch now but that sure as hell wasn’t the future he saw laid out in front of him when he first ran into his Master, when he first met Jackson Anders.

He didn’t know that the dude sticking his hand out and introducing himself as his new roommate was going to be his Master. No, Card didn’t have a clue what the larger boy had in store for him. He took Jackson Anders for what he purported to be, a fellow wrestler, another scholarship student destined to help out State’s fabled wrestling team win another National championship. Little did he realize that behind the placid demeanor Anders presented to the world lurked a brutal sadist who took particular pleasure in sexually abusing and degrading other jocks, turning them into cowering, pathetic fuck-toys who would submit to any sick perversion Anders’ mind could devise. But Card’s epiphany was not long in coming.

They’d only been roommates two weeks before Anders made his move. The two of them had gone out after classes were over on Friday for a few brews. Card was surprised at what seemed to Anders unlimited capacity, but he tried to keep up with the bigger boy. By the time they called it quits, Card was finding it difficult to focus and he never would have made it back to the dorm if Anders hadn’t been there to help him.

And Anders continued to help him once they got back to their room, helping Card doff his clothes, though at times it seemed that his lands lingered a little too long on the smaller wrestler’s body. However, it wasn’t until Card was completely naked that the true nature of his roommate’s interest in Card’s body became apparent. Card felt Anders’ fingers running up and down the cleft of his ass. “Dude,” Card asked, trying to shake Anders’ hand off his butt, “what are you doing?”

But instead of removing his hand, Anders fingers stopped at Card’s puckered sphincter and began pressing a rigid digit against it. A second later, Card was shocked to hear Anders ask, “You cherry, Card? You ever been fucked?”

“What the fuck you talking about, dude?” Card exclaimed, trying to move away from his roommate. In just seconds, the two of them were grappling with each other, tumbling onto Card’s bed. Even sober, Card was no real match for his larger roommate but in his inebriated state, the fight was over in less than two minutes. Card was still struggling underneath his roommate when Anders ripped off his own briefs and jammed them into Card’s mouth, muffling the smaller boy’s screams and protests. And there, on Card’s own bed, Anders raped his smaller teammate, destroying the boy’s asshole, turning it into his own personal fuck-cunt.

Anders kept fucking him the whole night. Or at least it seemed that way to Card, who passed out around three in the morning while Anders was plowing away at his hole for the third time only to wake up hours later just as his roommate’s creamed the boy’s aching pussy-hole yet again. By the time Anders finally yanked his cock out of the ruins of Card’s sodden asshole, it felt to the smaller boy like his roommate had fucked him with a blowtorch, his ass burned and hurt so much.

Card was lying on the bed utterly exhausted by the ordeal he’d just gone through. But even though he’d spent the better part of the night coring out Card’s no-longer-virgin boycunt, Anders didn’t seem tired in the least. Instead, he reached down and grabbed a shock of Card’s hair and yanked the boy to his feet. “Come with me, bitch,” he said imperiously, “we need to get you cleaned up.” The next thing Card knew, he was being pulled out of his dorm room and led, by his hair, into the dorm-suite’s showers. And there, as two of his suite-mates watched in stunned disbelief, Anders proceeded to shave Card’s ass, his pubes, and his pit-hair, explaining to the other two boys that, “I like my bitches nice and smooth where it matters.”

In retrospect, Card realized that then was the time he should have protested, should have told his suite-mates that Anders had forcibly raped him, that Card wasn’t a willing party to what was happening. But whether it was the shock of having been violently and repeatedly raped the night before or the sheer humiliation that overwhelmed him as his pubes and other body hair were publicly shaved off, Card failed to make any objection. It was therefore not surprising that when Anders, having finished shaving Card’s most private parts, proceeded to violently fuck the boy again, right in front of his two suite-mates, neither of them made any attempt to intervene even when Card began squealing and shrieking in pain. And when, after he had finished fucking Card, loudly screaming as he shot a fresh load of Man-cum up the teenager’s aching shitter, Anders pulled the boy by his hair back to their shared bedroom, it took less that five minutes for the rest of Card’s suite-mates to learn that Card was a faggot who was serving as his roommate’s fuck-bitch.

Anders kept Card naked, in their bedroom, for the rest of that first weekend. And when he wasn’t brutally fucking the boy’s ‘cunt,’ he was training the boy in his new role as the bigger boy’s fuck-whore. “The rules are simple, bitch,” Anders told him, “you do whatever I tell you to do and you do it without any hesitation or any backtalk. And understand, failure to do so will result in immediate and severe punishment. Do you understand, bitch?”

Card was kneeling before his roommate, a fresh load of Man-scuzz dripping out of his battered boy-bung. “Yes…yes, sir,” he replied, now terrified of his roommate, not wanting to do or say anything that might set him off. But all his meek acquiescence gained him was a sharp slap to his face. “You will address me as ‘Master Jackson,’ bitch, because that’s what I am – your Master.”

“Yes, Master,” Card quickly amended, his face flaring both from the slap and the profound humiliation he felt at his abject submission to the bigger boy. But even his immediate submission did not serve to keep Master Jackson from roughly hauling the boy over his lap and administering a brutal ass-spanking that left Card’s ass-cheeks a fiery red and left him sobbing just like any little boy who’d recently been punished for his misdeeds. And it was merely the first of many ass-thrashings that Card had to endure that first weekend.

And it wasn’t only Card’s ass that was the focal point for Master Jackson’s discipline. Card’s balls and cock – his boyvaries and boy-clit as he was instructed to call them – were squeezed, twisted, and pummeled so much that Card began to view them as merely a source of pain and agony rather than one of pleasure. But even the way Card’s boy-junk was manhandled paled when compared to the mistreatment his poor nipples – his boy-tits – suffered.

Card’s little nips had always been particularly sensitive and, sitting the way they did on Card’s well-developed pectorals, it wasn’t long that weekend before they came in for their own abuse at Master Jackson’s hands. And once his new Master discovered how sensitive they were to pain, they became his favorite way to inflict pain on his bitch, something he seemed to enjoy even more than fucking the boy. Master Jackson squeezed and twisted and pinched Card’s boy-tits mercilessly, bit them voraciously, adorned them with weighted alligator clips until Card was shrieking in agony. And when Card, almost insensate from the pain shooting throughout his body from his tortured boy-tits, was reduced to begging and pleading with his Master for mercy, Master Jackson would laugh at him and add more weights to the tit-clamps. And those hated tit-clamps were all Card was allowed to wear when, on Sunday afternoon, at his Master’s direction, the boy went door to door in his suite, telling his suite-mates to please feel free to fuck his ‘faggot cunt’ whenever they got the urge. Two did, right then and there, and it didn’t take more than a week later before all of his suite-mates had come round to routinely fucking Card’s pussy whenever they got the urge.

But if Master Jackson was definitely aroused by the pain he could inflict on his new bitch, he was even more excited by humiliating the boy, particularly when he could do so in public. Master Jackson forced Card to dress in the most revealing clothes for his classes – cut-off tank-tops that barely covered his perky and swollen boy-tits, shorts so tight they looked they had been sprayed on. And Card was never permitted to leave the apartment without wearing a stainless-steel chastity cage complete with a multi-balled butt-plug that forced him to groan in discomfort every time he sat down.

Master Jackson even made Card wear his chastity cage to wrestling practices, forcing Card to out himself as a pathetic fuck-bitch in front of all of his fellow-jocks. Card’s entire body was blushing a brilliant scarlet that first day as he lowered his shorts in the crowded locker room to reveal the metal cage encasing his boyhood and then, as he’d been instructed, go over to Master Jackson and ask his Master to ‘please remove my clit-cage so that I can put on my wrestling singlet.’ The initial round of shocked gasps from the other wrestlers soon gave way to derisive jeers and insults as Master Jackson unlocked the cage and removed it to expose not only Card’s pubeless groin but the large butt-plug that had been wedged up the boy’s fuck-twat. And when, a few seconds later, a large effusion of Master Jackson’s ball-scuzz began trickling past the boy’s swollen cunt-lips, absolute bedlam ensued. “Get that faggot out of here,” one teammate shouted while another, calling Card a ‘disgusting piece of homo-shit,’ literally spit on the boy’s face.

Card thought he’d die of shame the way they ragged on him, throwing one obscene epithet after another at him, and it wasn’t until two of the coaches came into the locker room that some semblance of order was restored. The coaches looked at Card with undisguised contempt, shaking their heads. Finally, Rock Stranger, the head wrestling coach, spoke up. “Get dressed, boy,” he roughly ordered Card, “we got a practice we need to get to. I’ll deal with you, later.”

It was a practice unlike any Card had ever experienced before. None of his opponents held back in the slightest and while most of them seemed to go out of their way to squeeze and molest his junk in ways that would never be permitted in an actual match, the coaches never called any of them on it. It wasn’t surprising, considering the constant mauling it was undergoing, that Card’s boy-clit was totally boned up during the entire practice, actually dribbling pre-cum that was staining the front of his singlet, which, of course, generated no end of slurs and caustic comments from his fellow-wrestlers. Card was sure the was going to be cut from the team and, by the time the practice ended, even he thought that might be the best resolution possible.

During the practice session, Card had noticed that Master Jackson in frequent conversation with Coach Stranger. He had no idea what was going on, though things became perfectly clear once the practice ended and they all trooped back into the locker room. Once they were all inside, Coach Stranger told the wrestlers to gather around him. When they did, the coach turned to Master Jackson and said, “go ahead, Anders, tell them what you’ve already told me.”

Master Jackson look around for a moment and then stared directly at Card. “Okay, bitch,” he ordered with a smirk, “strip.” His whole body once again flushing a bright red, Card did as directed, having already learned what failure to do exactly what his Master told him would result in. Card couldn’t believe how humiliating it was, stripping while everyone else snickered at him. And it didn’t help matters that his boy-clit was still fully erect. Once he was totally naked, he looked at Master Jackson and waited for his Master to continue forcing himself not to try to cover up his embarrassing erection, knowing that Master Jackson would be furious if he did so.

Master Jackson was grinning as he took in his bitch’s obvious embarrassment. Then, he turned to speak to his fellow wrestlers. “As most of you already know, I discovered this weekend that my roommate, Card Stevens, was a pathetic little faggot fuck-whore. I’d had practice dealing with fags before, so I knew exactly what to do – I fucked the living crap out of his faggot-pussy and started training him up to be a respectful faggot-bitch for Real Men to use and enjoy.”

At this point, Jackson Anders paused and looked around the room. “Now I know a lot of you have never fucked fag-pussy and some of you may be put off by the idea of it. But let me assure you that once you try it – and please feel free to fuck the bitch’s pussy whenever you want – you will enjoy it. As they say, a pussy is a pussy. And the thing about fag-pussy is that you don’t have to worry about the fag. You can fuck his pussy as hard as you want. And, if it hurts him, so what? He’s a fucking fag. Who gives a shit? I sure don’t. And you shouldn’t either. So please, all you guys, feel free to fuck my new bitch after every practice. Just like I’m gonna do right now.”

And with that, Master Jackson began shrugging off his singlet and in just seconds his big cock was buried balls-deep in Card’s still-sore boy-cunt, as Card squealed in renewed pain as the bigger boy began jackhammering his tender hole. By the time his Master had once again creamed his tortured cunt, a line of horny wrestlers had formed up behind him.

Over half his teammates fucked his pussy that first afternoon, and by the third practice session every one of Card’s teammate had tried out his ass-cunt at least once. They all pretty much still treated him like shit when they weren’t fucking him, which wasn’t surprising since that’s exactly how they treated him while they were fucking him. He wasn’t their teammate anymore – he was the team’s faggot fuck-bitch. And Card, who before had always looked forward to these practice sessions where he got to pit himself against his fellow wrestlers quickly learned to dread them.

But as bad as being bitched out to all of his teammates was, it wasn’t the worst thing Master Jackson did to Card. Not even close. Because as Master Jackson had discovered early on in his training of his fag-bitch, the one thing that Card hated the most was being forced to drink his Master’s pungent urine. At least when he was being used as the team’s cum-dump, Card could appreciate the sexual pleasure his teammates were experiencing as they pounded away at his boycunt. It was incredibly demeaning lying there as one dude after another jammed his cock up Card’s back-hole and used his pussy to get a nut, but Card could at least understand the pleasure they felt when they used him that way. But to serve as another dude’s urinal, his piss-hole, seemed to have no purpose other than to humiliate Card, to degrade him, to emphasize how far away from being a Real Man Card really was. The pleasure a man felt in pissing down Card;s throat didn’t come from his own sexual release but in Card’s total degradation and humiliation. There was nothing else that Master Jackson did to him that disgusted and embarrassed him nearly as much, nothing that Card hated more. And, unfortunately for Card, Master Jackson understood this. And so, sadist that he was, Master Jackson determined to turn Card into a groveling piss-bitch.

Twice every day, Card was required to crawl naked, as he always was kept in the suite, from room to room and beg his suite-mates to be allowed to drink their pee. The looks of shock and contempt that greeted this request the first time he was forced to make it made Card literally shake with humiliation, but that was nothing compared to the shame that overwhelmed him when one of his suite-mates took him up on the offer and peed down his throat, literally snorting his disdain as he did so. As the days passed, one by one, his suite-mates took him up on his offer and, in less than two weeks, he had become the urinal of choice for all of his suite-mates.

It wasn’t long after that that Master Jackson made Card drink his pee in front of all his fellow-wrestlers, laughingly telling them that he hadn’t used the porcelain urinal in his dorm suite in three weeks. “Why bother?” he asked rhetorically, “when I’ve got a human piss-hole right at hand to take care of it whenever I want? And all you guys,” he added as he zipped up, “should feel free to use the little whore the same way whenever you need to take a leak.” Within days, the wasn’t a single teammate who wasn’t routinely using Card’s mouth whenever he needed to take a piss during practice and, by the time any practice ended, Card’s belly would be visibly bulging out his singlet with all his teammates’ bladder-wastes.

But the worst of it all started a couple months later. Card knew something was up the moment Master Jackson returned from the post office carrying a large cardboard box. He recognized the gleam in his Master’s eye as something that always presaged some new humiliation that was about to be inflicted on him. And the moment his Master began removing items from the box, beginning with the large metallic funnel, Card understood what it would be used for.

Card knelt in front of Master Jackson, blushing furiously, as his Master affixed the metal contraption to Card’s head. It had been cunningly designed to keep his head in an upright position that forced Card to look straight up at the funnel that led directly down to his mouth. And as Card watched in humiliated horror, no sooner had Master Jackson fitted the gag firmly over his mouth than he unzipped his pants and proceeded to aim a torrent of his rancid pee into the funnel and down into Card;s frantically gulping throat. The disgusting taste of his Master’s piss was still permeating his mouth when Master Jackson ordered Card to make the rounds of their suite so that their suite-mates might have their own opportunity to try out Card’s new piss-gag.

Card had been serving as his dorm suite’s piss-hole for a couple of months now, but even though he couldn’t even estimate how many gallons of his suite-mates’ piss he’d downed during that time, he still found it repulsively demeaning every time he did it. And his new piss-gag seemed to make it somehow even worse. It made Card feel not merely that he was serving as a urinal but that he actually WAS a urinal, that being their human piss-hole now defined him even more than being their faggot cum-dump. Before, as a practical matter, Card had served each of his suite-mates as a piss-pit individually, kneeling before each boy as he emptied his bladder into him. It was disgusting and demeaning to be sure, but there was still an element of a personal relationship to the act. But the funnel at the top of his piss-gag allowed multiple boys to simultaneously pee into it. And that’s exactly what they did – two or three boys standing up and pissing together into the funnel, laughing with each other, enjoying the bonding experience of mingling their piss into the same hole, while Card just knelt there almost ignored, desperately swallowing as fast as he could, watching his fellow suite-mates enjoy an experience that seemed to exclude him even though he was literally at the center of it. It made serving as their collective piss-hole more dehumanizing than it had ever been before.

But it wasn’t until that weekend that Master Jackson truly unveiled the full depths of the degradation he had planned for the boy. Card knew something special was up when Master Jackson fitted his thighs and calves with multiple metal straps and then affixed his ornate metal cock-cage/butt plug onto his boy-clit and up his pussy. From past experience, this only happened when Master Jackson was taking him to a wrestling team party, where he would serve as the group’s entertainment. When Master Jackson ordered him to bring the box containing the piss-gag with him, Card’s heart sank since he was sure that this meant that all of his fellow wrestlers would be using him as a urinal the same way his suite-mates now did – with the piss-gag fixed firmly on his head and in his mouth.

But it wasn’t a party Master Jackson was taking him to, it was The Last Stop, the most notorious gay leather bar in town. Just walking into that bar was an agony of embarrassment for Card, dressed the way he was. Heads turned, wolf-whistles and catcalls greeted him as he followed his Master into the back bar, barefoot and naked except for his metal cock-cage and the metal straps around his thighs and calves. Master Jackson walked right up to another man who was standing behind the bar.

“This is the bitch I told you about,” he said.

The dude looked Card over and then just shook his head. “I never would have figured a boy like him would be a piss-queen, but I guess it takes all types. Okay, get him set up in the bathroom. Just remember, he cleans up any mess that he’s made at the end of the night.”

“No problem,” Master Jackson replied. Then, turning to Card, he said, “C’mon, bitch. Let’s get you ready to show all these Real Men what you’re really good for,” and then headed off towards the bathroom, leaving Card to follow behind.

Once inside the bathroom, Master Jackson directed Card to kneel between the two urinals. Then he took the box from the boy and began fastening the piss-gag onto the boy’s head. “Oh, please, Master, please,” Card started begging. “Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Please, Master, I’m begging you.” But Master Jackson just ignored Card’s plaintive pleas and they were soon cut off as the gag was jammed into his mouth. Once the gag was properly in place, Master Jackson ordered Card to sit his naked ass down on the floor and to spread his legs apart, blocking access to the other two urinals. That way, bar patrons would have no choice but to use his funnel when they needed to relieve their bladders.

“You’re here for the duration, bitch,” Master Jackson advised as he unzipped his pants and began whizzing into Card’s piss-funnel. “And remember, any mess you make, you’re gonna be cleaning up.” Card was still gulping down his Master’s accumulated piss when the Man zipped up and headed towards the door. “Have fun, bitch,” Master Jackson sarcastically added, as walked out.

Master Jackson hadn’t been gone thirty seconds before the door banged open and in walked a biker wanting to take a piss. “Holy Fuck!” he exclaimed when he saw Card on the floor with the funnel from the piss-gag sticking into the air. He looked around for a few seconds, uncertain as to how to proceed, but finally just shrugged his shoulders and walked up to Card, pulled his cock out and started pissing. “Drink up, faggot,” he sneered, as Card began swallowing convulsively. The biker hadn’t even finished washing his hands before he was joined by another patron.

“Motherfuck!” the new man exclaimed as he took in the sight of Card, naked except for his cock-cage, on the floor. “What the fuck’s going on?”

The biker at the sink, chuckled loudly. ‘Looks like we got ourselves a human piss-hole for the night.”

“God,” the second dude replied, “that’s disgusting. What type of sick pervert would want to spend the night downing other dudes’ stinking pee?”

“One sick motherfucker, you can count on that, bro,” the biker opined. “But, I figured, if that’s what floats his boat, that’s his problem. There’s a lot of really twisted pervs in this world. He’s a good looking dude, but who knows what else he’s into. Probably eats shit, too, sick motherfucker. But I figured. when you gotta piss, you gotta piss so I gave the little bitch just what he wanted – a hot load of my bladder juice.”

“Well, he’s welcome to mine, too,” the second dude said, walking forward and unzipping. “I gotta piss something fierce.” And with that he started whizzing away into the funnel leaving Card with no choice but to swallow as fast as he could. And even before he’d flicked off the last few drops into the funnel, yet another dude came into the room wanting to take a piss. “What the fuck,” the new dude muttered as the guy who had just finished peeing down Card’s throat turned to explain things to him.

And so it went for the first couple hours as Card sat there naked on the bathroom floor. Dude after dude would come through the door, express his surprise, and then his contempt, and then use Card for the obvious purpose that he was there – as a human urinal. For Card, it was an unending nightmare of abject humiliation as he had to listen to all their exclamations of surprise, contempt, and disgust and then still had to swallow their stinking pee, thereby seemingly validating every vile thing they’d said about him.

And, as time went on, things only got worse. It was bad enough when he looked up and realized that a dude was peeing into his mouth for a second and then a third and fourth time, but what was even more embarrassing was when, as happened on a number of occasions, Card recognized the dude pissing into him from one of his classes – and the dude recognized him, too. Knowing the way the news spread on twitter and other sites, Card realized that virtually all of his classmates would have heard about the disgusting display Card had put on in the bathroom of The Last Stop before he even made it out of the bar.

Roughly two hours after Card had started serving as the bar’s urinal, he reached the point that he’d been fearing from the very beginning. His belly was bulging, the multiple loads of piss that he’d down obscuring his abs, his stomach extending so far forward that it protruded well beyond his pecs, the need for him to piss almost unbearable. The breaking point came when three dudes joined in filling his piss-funnel to the very top. Card’s control over his own bladder finally gave way and he began pissing himself on the floor, to their raucous amusement and his own excruciating humiliation. Card pissed himself a good five minutes and, by the time he finished, he was not only guzzling down other dudes’ pee, he was sitting in his own.

From that point on, Card pretty much lost all control over his own bladder and he was pissing himself constantly throughout the rest of the night. By the time the bar closed at 3:00 a.m., nearly half of the bathroom floor was covered with Card’s recycled piss. When Master Jackson finally came in to collect him, Card knew he stank exactly like you’d expect a urinal to.

“You have fun, bitch?” Master Jackson asked contemptuously as he finally took off the piss-gag that Card had been wearing for the last six hours.

Card just stared at his Master, all the accumulated humiliations of his long evening forcing tears to his eyes. But when Master Jackson raised an eyebrow in a way that Card had learned to fear, Card knew what he had to do. “Yes, Master Jackson,” he replied. “Thank you, Master.” Just saying those words, thanking his Master for inflicting upon him the worst night of his entire life, crushed any last remnant of manhood that Card had somehow managed to retain through all the other degradations he had endured.

A huge smile lit up Master Jackson’s face. “I’m glad to hear that, bitch, cause you were a real hit tonight – everybody was talking about the piss-bitch in the bathroom. So much so that they’ve asked us to come back tomorrow night. And,” Master Jackson continued, the raw humor making his voice almost cackle, “assuming things go as well, you’re gonna be a permanent weekend fixture here from now on. Isn’t that great, bitch? Isn’t that great?”

Card didn’t want to cry in front of Master Jackson – he knew how much his Master enjoyed making his bitch cry like a little boy. But Card couldn’t help himself and the tears just started cascading down his face. Yet even as he was audibly sobbing Card forced himself to respond, “Yes, Master. That’s great, Master.”

His triumph now total, Master Jackson’s grin grew even bigger. “Okay, bitch. Now you need to get his place clean. And you know exactly how a bitch cleans up a mess he’s made – with his tongue. So get slurping, bitch. Get slurping right now.”

And as Card knelt down and began slurping his own recycled bladder wastes from the bathroom floor of a seedy bar, the tears kept flowing uncontrollably. He was a piss-bitch now. A human urinal. That was the life that now awaited him. And even with everything else that had already happened to him, Card couldn’t imagine a worse fate.