Chapter 29.
We eat quietly because eggs can get cold so fast and they're not very palatable that way. Bobby keeps giving me a strange look and I keep trying to avert my eyes, but just as usual it's so hard for me avoid crawling into his eyes. He looks so smug. So proud of what he's accomplished. So pleased that he owns me. "This is safe time, pup. Talk to me."
What dare I say? Damn it! Am I going to become afraid of him now that he owns me, now that I know he will not hesitate to beat me, insisting that's the best way to train me?
"Um...will you always whip me, Master, after I drink your piss."
"There's no strong connection between the two. I whip you for one of three reasons: 1) I want to, and 2) You deserve it, or 3) you need an attitude adjustment. Just before, I whipped you because I wanted to, because I wanted to make sure you'd just take it no matter how much it hurt. Best thing of all is to watch you rolling around on the floor trying to avoid the next lash. Someday I'm gonna make a movie out of that."
All these things he says to me are like hits of a drug. Yes, he has that power.
Then a thought hits me which shocks the hell out of me. "Um . . . you know that thing Tyler had brought into his bedroom?
"Sure I know it. I told Tyler which one to buy. Why? He told me you had a hard time with it. I don't want to fool with anything that might frighten you." He sits there and just looks into my face. he is like a statue. A statue of a saint. I want to light a candle to him. To make him take care of me. Always.
"Why did you bring that up, pup?" I notice I'm "pup" again and not "faggot" all the time.
"because . . . I think . . . ... oh, I, . . . "
"Come on, pup. spit it out. all of it. Run your mouth without your brain interfering."
I close my eyes and actually let my mouth run on: 'I'm wondering, now that you are at the beating heart of my slavery, it would be different if I could . . .
". . . for me?"
". . . Yes, Master, but maybe it's just a stupid thought."
"There are no stupid thoughts, faggot, when you're slipping into subspace."
"I hope I don't turn you off or make you run away, but . . . . ." Dare I say it?
"There are no `buts,' sweetheart."
Damn! He's never called me that before. I fall to the floor and bury my head in his lap. He strokes the hair on my head as if he's stroking a puppy's fur. I moan and dig my face even deeper into his lap and I can feel him getting hard.
"It's okay, pup. I'm not going to run away. I'm just going to keep holding you until all your fear drains out through your toes. It's okay. Say what you wanted to say. I'm here to protect you."
I lift my head from his lap and look up into his eyes. Damn! Those eyes! He smiles, coaxing the words out of me. "I . . I love you, Bobby. So much." And, drama queen that I am, I start to sob.
"That's right, slaveboy. Let it all out. Empty yourself out. This is a good thing. How many Masters do you think have slaves that are in love with them? Probably not many. Maybe only me."
"I'd do . . . "
He cuts me off. "I know, pup. You'll do anything for me. Anything I want you to do. And do you know what, faggot?" He says that word as if it's a word of loving praise, not a way of degrading me.
"What, Sir?"
"I'm gonna make you do lots and lots of things. Lots of slut things. Because deep down mixed in your slave identity, you're really nothing but a slut. But you can't run wild. You can't go out of your mind into sluttery."
I giggle. "That's not a word, Bobby!"
"you know what I mean. There's a reason you have a collar locked around your neck, and a cage over your baby dick. There's a reason will I clip a leash to your collar."
"What's that?"
"To keep you in check. Actually, to keep you safe from the darkest impulses that would drive you into horrible places. Castration. Having your dick cut off because some Dom has no use for it. Turning you into a nullo. Getting all your teeth pulled so you can give head better. Locking you up in an iron cell with a glory hole so you can service every cock that gets shoved through it without ever seeing whose cock it is. Having four guys all pissing into your mouth because you are more than a urinal: you've become a toilet. Then having them keep kicking you until they break your ribs. Branding you with a real branding iron while hanging you upside down. And then one day thrown out into the street penniless and dressed in rags so you can live under a bridge in a cardboard box, giving head to disgusting winos just to earn a few scraps of food. . . . . . should I go on?"
"NO, PLEASE NO! All that stuff is horrible." I chuckle. ". . . except for the glory hole part."
Bobby laughs out loud. "Do you see? See what I mean? You're like a fucking monkey on a leash, that's what you're like. And I hold the leash so you can't get too far away when you're dancing so people could throw dimes and quarters into your cup."
We both start laughing and the tears are falling from my eyes not because of pain but because Bobby's making me laugh now, more than I've laughed in ages.
"Will you dress me in an outfit with a funny hat?" I ask.
Bobby rubs his chin while he's thinking "No, baby. You're in the perfect costume right now: collared, caged and stark naked for everyone to see. Now get up, boy. Enough drama. You love me and I love you. I'm the Master and you're my slave. So get up off your knees and clean up this kitchen. Then crawl to me. By the time you're finished here I'll probably be ready to take another piss."
He takes another bottle of water from the fridge and drinks it all the way down. Fuck! I'm gonna be gulping his piss for days!
Like I said, the second I heard him shut the lock on my collar, my life changed.
Once I finish cleaning up the kitchen and go find Bobby, he's in a recliner, bare feet, talking on the phone. While he's talking he points to his feet. I get down and try to take all his toes in my mouth at the same time, then suck and lick everywhere. Such awesome feet he has! Bobby keeps talking on the phone:
"So I list the limits before anything happens. The slaves are all masked. Got it, Hank. Sign us up. Give me the date again so I put it in my phone. . . . Tonight? No, we just had supper. I can bring the boy over. Say, in an hour or so? . . . I was planning on making it an early night, but you're right, dude. It will be good for the kid. A way of closing off everything that's happened today. . . So, see you later."
He disconnects the call. "I'm bringing you to the Inferno tonight. On a leash."
He stands up and takes out his cock. "Before we leave, slave. You know what you need to do with this." He waves his dick at me. "Then if we're not too tired, we'll stop by Tyler's place and pick up the cage. I have a key. He won't mind, I'm sure. Or maybe I'll just lock you up in it and we can sleep there till morning."
Bracing myself, I take his cock in my mouth and as soon as I do he lets it flow and before long I'm gulping with his hand on my throat to feel the action. As if it isn't humiliating enough to be gulping down his piss!
When we're done he gives me permission to go clean out my mouth. When I come back outside, he's picked out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for me to wear to the club. He also puts manacles on my wrists and ankles. This night it going to get interesting.
"Soon Hank's holding a slave auction," he tells me while driving. "I'm going to auction you off to the highest bidder who will keep you for a day or so. Don't worry: I get to post the limits. I'll write `no anal, no piss.' This will be the first time Hank's ever tried to do this. Someone who does it a lot over in Michigan will be there to help him set it up. They say it raises a lot of money which all goes to the Trevor Project."
"Safe space now, Master?"
"Sure. What's on your mind?"
"That sounds really hot. When is it taking place?"
"You don't need to know that until it's advertised."
"One more thing, please. I was really hoping I could sleep in your arms tonight . . I mean, . . . after everything."
"You're right, pup. Sure. I'm gonna really want to hold you. As long as your breath doesn't stink of piss."
I slap his leg, but then regret it. "That slap is going to cost you, boy," as he switches back to Master mode. "You dare slap your Master? Then I'm gonna whip your hand. I'm gonna "slap the slapper."
"Yes, Master. Sorry, Master." Safe talk is over, probably for the night. But I'm glad I spoke up. I can put up with anything he wants to do to me at the club tonight as long as I know the night will end up with me in his arms.
When we get to the club we discover that Hank is using valets now. Bare-chested valets, as long as it isn't cold outside. Bobby pulls up and before he gets out of the car he tells me to get out of the car naked. That's how he's gonna walk me into the club--naked and leashed. And it looks crowded. Ulp!
He pays at the door (naked boys all get in free) and the attendant hands him a mask he can use if he wants one. He puts it on me. That's a relief, because I never know who might see me like this. Maybe even a faculty member or classmate. Or the Pastor of the church Dad takes me to sometimes. Or—holy shit! My uncle Ben who had always teased me and liked to "pretend" to take mover his knee and spank me, but was just using it as an excuse to rub his hand over my ass. (And this was when I was in grade school!).
Right away I turned to Bobby and begged for "safe chat" time. He took me into an alcove and sat in the bench there. He had me kneel and leaned his head down to me so he could hear what I wanted to whisper in his ear.
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If you write me, let me know what you think of this new story. subkodak25@gmail.com. Let me know how it makes you think. I don't care about how hard you got or how much cum you shot. I want to know what's going on in your mind.
Here are the other stories I have posted, with the dates where you can find them:
The first five should be read in order:
The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022 Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023 Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023 Brandon's Brothers 5/19/2023 Total Subjugation 5/25/2023
These stories are stand-alone
Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 Training Toby 12/31/2023 Breaking Me In (in progress)