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A slave's Induction
Ch 12 -
Arrogant Hung Latino
Bill phased out his stock before taking hiatus. This is the disposition of the last one to go.
Its conceited cockiness and arrogant vanity from what had hung between its legs - not to mention its uncommon good looks and astounding enviable musculature - was unparalleled. The actions, activities, and sexual exploits of the big handsome, hairy, Latino, muscleman, were covertly recorded and offered as an appealing drawing card to accompany its purchase. He'd been acquired just a short time earlier in New York, and auctioned off by private web offering - one submission allowed. Andre - a French vintner and collector of human horse cocks, was the winning bid. Arriving a Hispanic male, the new slave was altered shortly after delivery. Its manhood was added to its owner's pride and joy collection of unusually large human phalluses hidden by a panel behind the Frenchman's desk. Through a little known process called Plastination, the collection is preserved au natural. The plastinated specimens become safe to handle and leave out on display. Each one - in its full glory - is accompanied by its adjoining companion testicles - an astounding sight to see - as well as be able to examine, enjoy, and hold - no doubt the only assemblage of its kind in the world. One of Bill's vacation destinations while away was the Frenchman's winery, to visit his bid winner, and experience the awesome collection.
As if nullification were not humiliation enough, its owner would train his straight donor slave's rectums as fuckholes. There were a dozen men - all fairly nearby, some gay, some just oversexed - some even married - that loved to fuck. To them a hole was a hole, and what they had available locally was not enough to keep them satisfied. Wanting to steer clear of the law and get arrested for rape, they resisted the temptation to take what ever they wanted. Consequently they fully enjoyed when Andre had a pussy for them to use at will, for the relief of their horns. Andre took full advantage of his cache of willing studs, and used them to transform the virgin creatures he supplied them, into accommodating fuck whores. Allowed to keep the money, the slaves would be told they were being paid, so as to identify with being whores, but to associate their valueless-ness, the amount was the French equivalent of twenty five cents a pop, left in a jar for the slave to see ever so slowly accumulating. And "pop," each man would. The only requirement for the men to enjoy use of the victim, was fucking bare - no condoms - (which all preferred), and the deposit of his load. The men were the answer to what Andre needed to enjoy the training and humiliation of each slave, and the holes he provided were a welcome solution to their need for frequent gratification - definitely a beneficial and reciprocal arrangement.
Humiliated in the worst possible way, not only would this straight formerly uncut horse-hung Latino stud now be douched in preparation for each rape session and fucked like a woman, but when allowed to do so by its owner, it would also sit like the women it used to taunt and fuck - to piss from a hole put in its underside. Its disgrace and shame could not have been more meaningful coming from the culture it had - where men are so naturally domineering over the women. Rarely a day would pass that the slave did not service one or more of the men availing themselves of what they had come to refer to as their personal scum bucket - pussy hole - bitch - sometimes a number of them - and on occasion all twelve in a group, waiting for each other to finish, before climbing in for his turn. After months of coins being thrown carelessly into the jar - some ending up on the floor - the whore was always required to pick each one up, kiss it and place it carefully where it belonged. It became a literal "two bit whore." Once the victim began to be able to handle the pain of getting fucked, the next phase of its abusive and degrading training would begin. Its Master would start a stretching process of its pussy.
Forced by whatever means and reasons to accept responsibility for the change in its treatment, quickly it would be graduated to being fucked by big dildos and having big plugs harnessed in its cunt. Larger and larger plugs and phalluses would be introduced now, never allowing for adjustment before graduating to the next ones. Sometimes it would be knelt next to its master and watch itself on screen fucking one or more of its bitches, while in agony from a plug or phallus harnessed and locked in place. Once in a while its cock would be taken out of the collection. With the slave's hands cuffed behind, its master would fondle the preserved beauty for the slave to see, "Doesn't seem so big now does it?" the question in English with a heavy French accent. Together they would watch the cock now in its new owner's hands, plunge in and out of a pussy, while the slave - minus its treasured manhood - suffered with something excessively larger in its own recently created cunt.
"How obnoxious this object made you," Was the comment on one such occasion, as they watched the former Hispanic male perform his aggressive act of intercourse on the woman having great difficulty accommodating him, and even saying, "No," to his determined and abusive advances. He put his hand over her mouth as she protested. With much of his weight on her face, and the rest of his mass making her escape impossible, he spoke with his usual arrogance, "You're not stopping me now bitch!" He drove and plowed and raped the young woman (girl) to her protests and attempts at pleading with him to stop hurting her. Andre called in an assistant and had him set up a stool with a raised center. He pulled upward on the chain attached to the slave's collar raising him off his knees, sat him down on the stool eliciting a holler, "Gag it," was the order to the assistant.
"Yes Sir Boss," was the response, as a large ball gag was immediately produced - forced into the big hairy Latino's mouth, and straps secured behind its head. The added pressure on the plug pushing into its pussy was considerable as it watched itself raping the girl on the large TV. Moaning, it closed its eyes and began to face away, and was scolded. It drooled from its open gagged mouth and watched itself bury what was now one of its master's lifeless trophies in the girl's ravaged hole.
Orgasm eminent, the slave was ordered to bounce its full weight up and down on the stool and fuck itself. On screen he howled as he pumped his voluminous deposit inside his victim - and here, the slave howled with far worse pain from the self-rape of its own pussy. "Good show," its Master said, "You used to be quite the stud. I bet this thing pumped loads just like that into hundreds of bitches in its lifetime. Would you estimate hundreds?" The Frenchman asked the pain-wracked beauty. While watching himself pulling out of the tortured cunt he was through with, and enduring its own anguish, the question didn't even register, "Answer me shithead," was the impatient warning, "Or I'll cut out your tongue and display it next to your cock like it was licking it clean of its last load."
The dazed, befuddled, humiliated, hyper masculine looking, modified, creature was shocked out of its trans. The words, "Cut out your tongue," brought it back to the awful here and now. Once a proud, cocky, self assured Latino who would a few months earlier, have told his inquisitor to go fuck himself, attempted a profuse apology for not hearing - referred to itself as a worthless shitface, and begged politely to hear the question again - just so much garble, but its master fully understood. The slave was warned for not keeping focus on its Master when in his presence - apologized again, and was given the question again. Immediately the affirmative nod and mouthed words it had been taught for respectful response to its superiors were offered. Now everyone, no matter station or age was its superior. Even a young boy asking the question of the big macho hairy muscled creature would have received the same response. The words - "Yes Sir." No one who didn't know, would have been able to distinguish them from around the effective lingual obstruction occupying its open, filled, drooling mouth. Andre turned off the TV and just enjoyed his fuckhole's continued self-violation. The slave raised and dropped itself repeatedly as the secured object inside penetrated even more deeply from the rise in the middle of the stool's surface on which it - according to its Master - was, "Comfortably seated."
Its pussy ring would be continually enlarged - stretched - so closing would become impossible. Its Master's purest form of entertainment was adding a straight man's horse sized genitals to his collection - turning the altered creature into a humiliated, shamed, female identifiable, two bit fuck whore - pumping it full of replacement hormones to maintain, even maximize, its muscled masculinity - then stretching its pussy so wide that the men who began its use as their fuckhole, wouldn't even be able to feel the sidewalls - requiring retention of a permanent plug to prevent leakage from its incapacity to close.
Its pussy ruined for fucking, it would be told the same men that had grown accustomed to its use were pissed - that they still required sexual service and release and they were being repeatedly put off. To avoid further mutilation, the slave would be forced to beg for help turning its mouth and throat into another fuckhole to keep the men accommodated and keep them from being angry about the loss of their pussy as their fuckhole and cum dump. Placating the men would be key to maintaining the rest of its parts. The men would be invited - as usual fully aware of what was happening, and of their roll in the game. With its pussy painfully plugged, it would be put before them to placate and pacify them - its Master on hand for the show.
With total mortification before its users, the once arrogant stud began to respectfully address the dozen men he had serviced - been raped by - turned into a fuck whore by - the ones who had all fucked it many times and cum in it until it began to adjust - to accept its fate and the treatment of its abusers, "Please Sirs, your fuckhole begs you not to be angry with it. It's very sorry - its pussy isn't good for servicing your pleasure any more -"
"WHY!" one of the men shouted in feigned anger.
"This slave's pussy is being stretched so that it doesn't close Sir. It wouldn't pleasure you the way it used to," the shameful admission.
"I don't believe you! Show us!" was the angry challenge of one of the men. The Frenchman walked over to the slave - turned their whore's back to the men - motioned to the assistant present to unlock the harness - bent his victim forward - and directed the assistant to, "do the honors." Grabbing a firm hold on the painful intruder, the man pulled ever so slowly to intensify the removal process. Putting his booted foot to the slaves ass, he struggled to free it of its tightly lodged plug, in what the men had enjoyed as an often source for their sexual appetites. In a moment, with its anguish verbally affirmed, it exited - indeed leaving to the slave's humiliation, a pussy that did not close. The men gathered around. Several faked disbelief and fingered the opening, "I didn't know," one said, as rehearsed, "A pussy could be stretched that far that wasn't a woman."
"Great!" one yelled, "What are we supposed to do now?" The plug was jammed back in to the hollers of its receiver - the harness strap reapplied, and locked.
Proof of the useless condition of its pussy for their gratification offered, in agony, it explained that it had begged for its mouth and throat to be trained for their use as another way of servicing them and providing for their pleasure, "And how long is THAT going to take?" the short tempered query.
"I don't like feeling a bitch's teeth," from another man - baiting the dick-less dupe - prearranged as with everything else. Everyone was "in on it," but their victim. He was the only one not acting.
"A legitimate concern Andre said, "especially for a few of you. I would assume your fuckhole here, with the size cock it used to sport, never even considered oral gratification from its bitches. Would I be right?" the question directed to their "chump in common."
"Yes Sir."
"Teeth right?"
"Yes Sir."
"So you understand the concern about your mouth pussy, right?"
"Smile for the men," the order to which it nervously complied. It was a beautiful smile that fit all the rest of the rather uncommonly beautiful package.
"Interesting. I hadn't paid much attention before. The teeth are just about perfect. Had a lot of work done to them?"
"No Sir."
"Ah just natural eh?"
"Yes Sir,"
"I think you owe the men a good look at the hole you are offering them. Present it to each man so they can inspect what you're begging them to accept as a substitute fuckhole and cum receptacle for their pleasure. Walk over there. Start with the man on my left." Obediently - walking awkwardly from the size of the plug locked in the hole that until a month earlier had accommodated the sex of those to whom it was apologizing, the smooth fronted, hairy, muscled, macho, figure, made its way up to the man on the left.
"Open wide," was the man's order - feeling and examining the opening as if buying a horse, ordering the tongue lifted and lowered. He pushed the whore down on its knees and told it to open as wide as it could - took himself out - hard from what was being done to their victim - put his hands on the back of its head and pulled the hole onto his cock till it reached the back of its throat - the inexperienced slave gagging almost to retching.
As per request in private by their associate, host, and cock collector, each felt the teeth. One after the other inspected the potential substitute for the hole now being retained wide open, until all twelve had seen the gaping newly offered sex repository - the two largest endowed, inspecting it but fingering and knuckling its teeth, refusing to test the opening with their cocks. Gagging repeatedly with resultant saliva running freely out of the hole and down its body - after the last of the twelve men inspected it, its Master called the slave back to kneel in front of him, "What would the worthless fuckhole like to say to the men that no longer have its pussy for their use and pleasure?"
The slave followed its Masters lead in referencing itself, "Sirs, your worthless whore is sorry Sirs for the loss of your pussy." With head bowed and hands behind as trained, the now hopeless, cock-less, humiliated, fuckhole knelt facing its Master and offered itself to the men. Knowing it had no choice but to appease and pacify its users, it apologized and begged - pleaded and promised. It apologized for the condition of its stretched out pussy, and the loss of the men's torturously trained fuckhole for their demanding gratification. It begged for their forgiveness. It pleaded with them to accept the offering of its substitute opening, and it promised to devote itself to its training and development for their pleasure.
But it had not owned and admitted its ingratitude to the men for their training as the reason for their loss. It had volunteered nothing regarding their verbalized concern about its teeth - even though the two most endowed men (as agreed earlier) would finger them and not test the opening with their cocks. Andre, knowing full well the matter would be a problem for the slave, asked the men to make nothing more of the matter than a simple statement of concern. By not addressing the matter, the slave had further fallen directly into the Master's plan.
Their host addressed them. "Gentlemen, your fuckhole has displayed its proposed substitute hole for your inspection. Being immediately before each of you, I'm sure it senses how you feel about its offer. It may be worthless, but it's not stupid. It knows you are not satisfied with its unsatisfactory performance before you today. I'm going to give it a few days, and then let it kneel before you all again. I'm sure if given some time to think, it will make a more appropriate heart felt apology, plea and offer - a much better attempt at appeasing you all.
The Master snapped his fingers and the assistant presented a prearranged hard rubber bit gag. From behind the kneeling figure, he reached over its head, forced it into the slave's mouth, and buckled it behind its neck. Quickly, cuffs on its wrists followed, as the slave's owner addressed it, "Would you like that - a chance to think, and then readdress the men?" He continued not giving the slave a chance to respond - "You have robbed these men of a critical source for their pleasure - yet your declaration announcing the denial of their familiar pussy for sex, and the offering of an inexperienced hole as a substitute was so unfeeling. I'm sure these men would like more than a quick showing of their former pussy stretched beyond their use, and a simple, apology. Just as I'm sure you would like some time to rethink how you should address them with the matter. Am I right?"
Was there ever a more leading question than that? The slave shook its head in the affirmative and garbled the words, "Yes Sir," its mouth held open by what looked like a horses bit pulled back so tight into its mouth as to distort its lips and stretch its cheeks.
"Ok, lets take you where you can do some thinking. A broad stiff collar was placed around the slave's neck and a lead attached. "Gentlemen," he invited, "You are welcome to follow along if you like."
By its leash, its Master lifted the slave from its knees, and lead it out of the room. The men - of course - followed, watching the slave's distorted ass cheeks as it struggled to walk. The huge plug harnessed inside, intensified and insured the destruction of their former fuckhole - now agonizingly stretched. Never again would the hole these men had claimed, trained, and transformed for their abusive pleasure, be useful for their pleasure. For purposes of humiliation and the resultant emotional effects, it was necessary to begin its new life by the use of a dozen men for several months as their pussy and scum bucket. Certainly it had been hosed full with pints of their jism. And now its deformation would be a major contributing factor to the slave being broken completely as its once virgin ass became a gaping unclosable opening. It would long for the chance to answer its abusers as they whispered in its ear, "You love men fucking you don't you?" It begged them not to.
At the outset of the process of its ruination it was told the reason its pussy was being destroyed was due to its negative attitude about being fucked. How different things would be now if given the chance - how it would plead with each man to pleasure himself - beg each one to breed him like the bitch and whore they all called it - how different the answer to that critical question - how instead of begrudging the men their pleasure it would praise and thank them for the privilege of their seed - admit its worthlessness and being overpaid at two bits per time per man. It did none of that. It was not coached or told or encouraged to do so. Its Master wanted things just the way they were. The slave, none the wiser, not knowing that all those things would have made no difference, believed they would have.
They entered a room, empty except for what looked like a complicated high chair of sorts against the far wall. Four of Andre's assistants were on hand. Andre's men were not slaves, but combination security guards - slave trainers - and personal assistants. He took very good care of his men, and they were loyal to a fault. Even so, Andre kept an insurance policy on each one - videos of them doing things for which they would be at least imprisoned, if not put to death. The appropriate constabulary was in Andre's pocket as well, to cover the bases. The men reflected Andre's penchant for having the finest of everything. They were prime muscled beef, and when in assistant mode, dressed the part. Revealing leather pants, leather boots, shirtless torsos and crossed leather harnesses, were pretty much standard issue around the Chateau, unless the Boss was expecting outside company - then something more respectable and formal - even shirt and tie might be the uniform. On occasions such as these, studded leather gauntlets were added for effect and intimidation purposes - as if they were necessary to make the men look formidable.
As the slave was led into the room, one of the men put a needle in its shoulder and injected its contents. He and another man each took an arm - flanked the slave, and walked it across the room. As they reached the chair, the slave was still standing, but needed some support - seeming almost drunk. The men turned it around - back up against the "chair." While they steadied their charge, the two other stout muscular men well versed in what to do, went into action. One man attached a heavy chain from a pulley in the ceiling to a ring on the back of the stiff collar, while the other applied ankle restraints. Andre stepped up to his new toy - unlocked the pussy plug retention harness and removed it. The chainman got set to pull, and two others each grabbed a leg, "On three," Andre said, "One - two - three." And just that quickly the men with the legs lifted, the man with the chain tugged, and the slave was hoisted into position atop the sturdy but minimal looking "high chair."
There was no seat, so the slave's legs were splayed wide and the backs of its thighs draped across a "V" shaped frame joined from near the middle of where the back of the seat would be, forward and each of the V sides married into to the top of the front legs creating an integral structure. The minimal design allowed unfettered access to the completely exposed plugged pussy and pee hole. With several applications of cross bracing joining all the legs down their length including front to back, and side to side, the chair could have held the weight of three slaves like this. It looked like a giant armed barstool with no seat, and a thick plywood back, higher than the slave's head.
The men worked quickly to strap forearms at the wrists, and near the elbow to the arms of the chair. The lift chain was removed, and its collar attached by the same ring, to the chair's high back. There was a large head clamp attached to the back of the chair - its head sized clamp faces wide apart to accommodate positioning of the slave.
The drug," the Master explained, "Makes the brain as if it were inebriated & it wears off in about an hour. Unlike with alcohol however, it will recall what it hears clearly, and if eyes are open what it sees." One component, the men were told, was more long lasting. It would weaken its emotional state and increase its guilt coefficient. Andre clapped his hands and hollered at his slave, "SHITFACE! Look at me! Straighten your head for the man. He's going to clamp it in place." As the eyes opened the slave scanned to find the voice. Its Master clapped again. "Here. Look at me. Straighten your head,"
"Yes Sir Master." Was the slave's obvious docile answer as it found and focused on its owner - indeed as if inebriated, its attempt at speech a bit slow. The clamp faces were screwed up against the slaves face just snug enough to keep its head from moving left or right.
Straps were applied high on chest - mid torso - and low just above its legs, holding it to the back of the flat backed chair. Several more were put around its legs attaching them to the "V" frame over which they were outwardly splayed and draped - one, where legs join torso, and another farther forward. Its final security points immobilizing the chair's occupant were the ankle restraints. With strapping through the D rings, they were pulled in close to the front legs of the chair, and secured loosely enough to a cross member to allow the hanging legs to dangle.
The appearance of the slave was as if sitting in a highchair - its head and shoulders considerably above all the observers, "Look at the men," Andre said, "They're all watching." The slave unable to move its head left or right, scanned the room with its eyes moving in their sockets to see the ones who had made it their two bit whore - their bitch - their fuckhole - the ones who had repeatedly raped and abused it, "They're expecting you to think about them - think about how you will address them next time you have the opportunity to speak. This is where you will think about it. I'm giving you a few days to revise your presentation as a worthless piece of shit." He paused a moment and continued, "I'm going to get you started.
The hairy Hispanic muscle beauty looking like a demeaned version of the arrogant stud it had been, sat high overlooking everyone, almost as if on a throne - only this throne would not be a seat of authority but of pain and misery - and the once "arrogant stud," was now minus any evidence of manhood. It was completely smooth between its legs. The inordinate uncut phallus it once carried so proudly - now a part of its owner's collection on a shelf in his office.
The slave was told by its Master to look at his mouth as he spoke, "You've never once thanked these men for using you - putting their dicks in your worthless cunt and making you their whore. You took advantage of their time - you enjoyed their pleasure - you let them pay you far more than you're worth. There's a jar full of coins in there to prove it. Time after time, these very men standing here fucked you for months. Did you ever once tell them how much you needed and enjoyed what they were doing to you? They all fucked you, whispered in your ear, called you their bitch - planted each load up deep in your pussy - must be pints of their valuable ball juice they gave you. These men are accomplished virile studs who love to fuck. They allowed you the privilege of knowing purpose as their overpaid whore. You never thanked them for that purpose so often realized, or begged them for their cum, or pleaded for their pleasure. I let you have months of their purposeful use. Hardly a day passed that you weren't used by at least one of these proud macho men - sometimes even all of them at once, waiting on each other for their turn."
"They were all anticipating - expecting - your thanks, your praise, your pleas, even your worship. You offered them nothing. Consequently the useless pussy that selfishly - discourteously - enjoyed their painful, purposeful, development into their useful fuckhole without thanks, had to be destroyed." The slave's eyes were loosing focus. Andre Shouted for it to pay attention. He knew it would hear, but he wanted the added sense of the visual for increased cognizance. He wanted this to play itself back clearly during his slave's "thought time." Andre's "seated," pitifully helpless property tried to apologize and stared at the mouth talking to him - its own mouth so far agape its sides were stretched tight - problematic teeth biting into the hard rubber cylinder keeping it that way. Andre continued programming the mind of his victim with relish. He said it had asked its users for forgiveness - that a worthless slave never asks for forgiveness. A slave is not worthy of forgiveness. It asks for correction or punishment for its mistakes and transgressions, "And," he admonished, "A slave always accommodates the concerns, needs, and preferences of its superiors and users - particularly when they are the agents of its own Master."
He said the opportunity it was being given for this thought time had better produce a contrite acquiescent slave with a sacrificial, apologetic, and thankful presentation to make up to these men in the room for its poor performance and offering tonight. Just then the three-inch diameter brass rod everyone knew was there and were waiting for, tipped open its concealing cover and rose slowly up out of the floor under the chair. Its purpose from its position centered directly under the slave's pussy was of course obvious even to an unfamiliar eye. Where it was headed was undeniable. One of Andre's aids had triggered its introduction by remote and stopped it the four or so feet just before contact with the huge plug in the pussy above, and handed the remote to his boss. Unaware of anything except by the applause of the men in the room, the motionless figure retained its focus on the Master's lips, soaking in his programming and waiting for more.
The rod was flat topped and although its edges were eased from being sharp, it wasn't for direct insertion into the hole - now only inches from its tip. For the moment it would add pressure to the enormous plug above it, but it was custom made with specially designed attachments in mind. It had a female screw hole machined in its top. Its accompanying attachments were made to slip down over its girth a few inches, with male screws embedded in each complimentary accessory. Its accoutrements were gigantic phalluses and plugs - some with broad bases to give support to the occupant's weight to counteract the lack of a seat, and even rigid completely flat topped appliances for the same purpose of holding the occupants weight. It was naked of any fixtures having just risen from its nesting place in the floor - just a shiny golden post - the finishing touch to the perch where the slave would spend the next forty eight or so hours in misery - making recompense for is carelessness.
With most of its senses deprived, it would, as expected, turn inward. It would, with the aid of the drug weakening its emotional condition, enter into different states over its time here. It would move in and out of being bathed in self-blame - feeling recompense for the loss it caused these men by its selfishness and be overcome with sorrow. It would without even realizing it, speak its mind out loud. Unable to mouth the words, the sounds would come forth as if it could, "Your pussy is sorry Sir's -" It would apologize for asking for forgiveness - for their loss of their source of pleasure - ask for correction - beg for help making its face cunt a substitute. It would even actualize its transgression concerning its teeth (big factor and reason for it being here) and plead with its Master to remove them so its mouth cunt could be better for the men. On and on it would go - round and round in its dark universe of thought and silence and remorse and apology and pain.
The slave watched the lips of its Master forming his words. Andre told the slave it would be glad to know it would be given stimulants to disallow for sleep, so it could devote every minute here to its thought time - and made it thank him. Drool ran freely out of its gaping mouth as Andre pressed the button on the remote. The brass pole pushed up on the plugs base forcing it further in and offering seat support at the same time. The seated victim hollered and the pole was lowered momentarily. Andre bounced the plug up and down with the pressure of the pole against it as he finished his programming and admonition, "I expect a new attitude in a few days shitface," he warned. He would have that and more. A different creature than the one mounted on the "seat of thought" would descend from its perch in a short couple of days - what to the slave, without a sense of time, would seem an eternity.
Ok boys," Andre instructed, lowering the pole considerably, "Put number four on there. I want the men to see their whore being fucked as they depart. "Number four" was produced, taken to the pole - slipped over it, and screwed tight. It was four inches in diameter, eighteen inches long and semi rigid - enough so that it stood on its own, looking so menacing - like a rocket ready to launch. One of the attendants, using considerable muscle, dislodged the stretching plug from its place of importance, as the slave yelled. A large injection device filled with lube was inserted deep into the gaping pussy up past the as yet un-stretched second sphincter, and emptied it of its slippery contents. The rocket was greased, and as the man stepped away, Andre raised the monolith into contact with its target and stopped it. Take a final look at your accusers," Andre instructed to the slave's obedient scan of the room full of men who had made it their whore. One of the assistants climbed up and blindfolded the slave - opened the head clamp and plugged its ears before clamping it a little tighter against its head - attached angry alligator clamps to its tits, and stepped down.
Immediately Andre used the remote and the giant cock began its trip into its target opening. Entering was not eventful as the opening was already so stretched, but as it slowly ascended, the slave began to groan and sweat. Reaching the second sphincter was indeed eventful - and it became evident. The men's whore began to yell as it penetrated the stricture and continued on, raising its full length - the effect essentially of being fisted to a man's elbow. It paused about twenty seconds or so, and equally as slowly began its gradual descent. Andre put the control on an autopilot setting and handed it to his assistant. The punishing phallus would exit till the big head was just inside the stretched pussy - pause at its nadir just as at its zenith, and repeat. It would continue until stopped or its setting changed.
The men enjoyed the show for a while watching their raped and tortured victim - their whore, enter a world of solitude where they - their use - their abuse - their coins in the jar - their cocks - their cum - their needs, desires and concerns - their denigration - each man's scent - his sound - and his technique, would be the sole focus of its thoughts. With the help of the drug, the slave would regret its responsibility for their loss, acknowledge its ingratitude, and redraw an appropriate apology, plea, and offering of its mouth cunt as their substitute fuckhole. Its gaping mouthed moans and hollers were validation to the men as their host invited them to join him for a drink before departing.
The attendants worked in eight-hour shifts - always a man in the room. Every couple of hours, to keep it from drying out, the slave's wide-open mouth was squirted with a mixture of the men's cum, spit, piss, and water from a squeeze bottle as used in a fighters corner between rounds. Shots of the drug were administered, as necessary to maintain the emotionally weakened condition. The alligator clamps on its tits were removed and applied with others in different sensitive locations - nose frenum - thin skin near armpits - inner thighs near where the manhood used to be - lips - tongue - to name some.
The first phallus was kept at the rhythm set by Andre for hours before increased. Attachments were interchanged. Enormous plugs would penetrate and exit - odd shaped instruments would rotate - electric implements would shock the well-worn cunt walls - and then nothing. No plugs - no clamps - no pain - just its mouth kept from drying out - for which it had become thankful. A seat would be attached to the pole and raised and its weight relieved with a minimal cunt plug. The guard on duty would massage its legs - climb on a rung and rub its neck and shoulders and sooth its skin gently almost affectionately rubbing it.
The first time it happened the slave began to weep - a good sign to indicate its emotional state and immediately reported to Andre. Repeatedly it spoke the completely unintelligible words, "Thank you Sir - Thank you Sir - Thank you Sir," until the attendant put his finger to the babbling lips and quieted the noise. For so little it felt such gratitude. Then for an uninterrupted hour it would sink deep into trans like thought about all the right things, before the pain would begin again. Different amounts of time to keep it disoriented would pass before periods of release. Each time it would break down - each time it would verbally express, "Thank you Sir," or, "I'm sorry Sirs," or more appropriately, "Your whore is sorry Sirs," or what ever else related to its accruing senses of guilt, or remorse, or contrition, or recompense, were in its tortured thoughts.
For forty-eight hours the slave existed in states of altered consciousness, but always with one focus - the men - its sins against and indebtedness to them. Its two-day eternity of pain and thought, produced the desired result - an appropriately recalcitrant apologetic and adjusted slave, fuckhole and whore. On being brought down from the chair it was too weak to stand. Left blinded, its master approached its prostate form - kicked its arms apart - stood between them a foot each side of its head and looked down, "Been thinking?" was the nominal question yelled to penetrate the ear plugs.
The welcome sound of its Master's voice recognized, the exhausted, raw nerved, ravaged, and raped slave wrapped its arms around its Master's ankles, "YES MASTER! THANK YOU MASTER! YOUR WORTHLESS SLAVE IS SO SORRY SIR!" It hollered indistinguishably. Andre told the assistant to remove the bit from its mouth and plugs from its ears.
The slave - with great difficulty - almost unable to close its mouth - spoke its mind, "Master, your worthless slave is so sorry Sir. It needs your correction Sir." - and its first plea, making obvious a total psychological readjustment, "Please Master. It begs you to remove its teeth. The men are concerned about them and it wants to offer a more acceptable substitute hole for the one its lack of thanks has denied them.
"Then I think we should invite the men to return, so they can hear the more appropriate attitude your thought time has produced." The men were brought back - the slave put before them. On its knees, with head bowed, and a video of its torture in the highchair playing on a big screen behind the slave for them to enjoy, it did/ said all the right things. It disparaged itself - accepted complete responsibility for their loss - pleaded with them to accept its apology, and was given the opportunity before them to beg for its beautiful perfect teeth to be removed. It said the most important thing was the men's pleasure and it didn't want anything to get in their way of that. It begged the men to give it the privilege of servicing their sex with its smoothed toothless mouth and throat pussy. The slave had been broken - nothing left of its delusions of pride or of manhood - only of suffering and serving the whims of its Master at any cost - being an appreciative whore for the unbridled uninterrupted pleasure of who ever would use it - these men here gathered in particular. It promised if given the pleaded for opportunity, it would thank them for its abusive treatment - beg them for their pleasure and for being their cum receptacle, and answer to all their demeaning dehumanizing identity tags with gratitude.
It would become a slave "par excel lance," and sold for profit whenever its Master tired of it.
Comments welcome: mackxwayne@hotmail.com curious about images that serve to inspire the scenarios - let ME know...
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