Chapter Thirteen.
I was surprised when I was ordered to report for punishment at 9 pm and not earlier, but as the time dragged by painfully slow I realized why they'd set the time so late. The hours of anticipation and worry were all part of the punishment. I wonder if I'll ever get used to the idea that I was always thinking about it, that the entire question of punishment was now an ever-present reality in my mind. I guess this was all just another sadistic way of keeping me humbled. It never ceases to hit hard, this continual thought that unlike every other guy in my dorm, I'm the only one who is always anticipating some kind of beating. I am a boy who gets punished. It's now a regular part of my life. Sometimes it's thrilling in a masochistic sort of way. Other times, however, it's just this pain of dread settling into my gut and once again I'm reminded of just how different my life is compared to the lives of my classmates and dormmates. I wonder if there's anyone else on campus who's always thinking about the next beating he's gonna receive. And, of course, every time I think about all this I'm also reminded that my dick is locked up and unable to respond the way I would have wanted to respond. My life is all about punishment but never about pleasure to my dick. Will I ever just get used to it and not want to fight against it?
And so, as a way of trying to pass the time, I write a little more about getting to see Danny naked in the showers and dying with the intense craving to touch his cock until finally I also admitted to myself that I wanted to kiss it and lick it as well. I had a big problem because I was starting to get hard in the showers just by thinking about what I wanted to do, and more than once I had to escape back to my locker before I got a full-on hardon and would be mocked by my classmates.
One of the boys in my class named Gleason caught sight what was happening. When I rushed back to my locker he followed me and then grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me around so I was standing there facing him and my dick completely hard. "Who's getting you hard, faggot?" he asked me and then winked at me which I interpreted as a signal that he was maybe like me. "Tell me and I'll help you out," he whispered to me. For the first time I spoke his name out loud. "ddddannnny," I stuttered. He nodded and flicked my dick with his fingers. That made me double over.
The next day I found a note in my locker. "Ask for permission to stay over my place Friday night, boy." D. He added his phone number.
Wow. Gleason wasn't kidding when he offered to help me out. How the fuck did he manage it?
. . . to be continued . . .
. . . My "disciplinarian" this time is an Asian guy, someone I've seen around campus several times although I don't know his name. The lights are on in the room this time so I'm able to take a good look at him. He has a look in his eyes that tells me he's looking forward to bullying me and bringing me down. The last things I see are the hunger and anticipation in his eyes and the large roll of black electrical tape he's holding in his hands. He rips some tape off the roll and wraps it around my head blocking all light from reaching my eyes. Then more about my mouth.
"Strip!" he orders. It's a weird feeling trying to pull off my clothes and kick off my shoes when I can't see anything. All I hear is his breathing and the clock ticking somewhere in the room. I'd never noticed that before and I'm wondering if it was just added or if I was just so frightened the last time that I never even noticed it.
Finally I'm naked. He pulls my arms behind my back and tapes my wrists up as well. This is an interesting way of being bound. It's much less irritating than manacles or handcuffs although I never had my mouth locked shut before. Right away I think of what this is going to be like if I have to cry out from the pain of being punished.
He has me lie on my back on the desk with my butt hanging off the end of the desk. Next thing I know, my thighs are also being taped down, forcing my legs spread as far as ever. I become frightenedly aware of how exposed my ass and my junk is now, legs spread apart and everything hanging right out in the open air.
He lubes up my ass and then shoves some kind of plug inside me. "This is ginger, faggot. It's used to "fig" faggots like you to remind you that everything in your body is owned by your Masters. You'll feel its effects soon enough," he says with a chuckle.
Burning. Fuck! I feel like a red hot poker has been shoved up my ass and the feeling is even worse than Ben Gay. I make horrible moaning noises and I hear him laugh at me. The pain seems to spread everywhere and then, to make matters even worse, he starts hitting my inner thighs with some kind of paddle. Eventually I find out he was using a wooden spoon on me, blow after blow, from one side to the other, and it fucking hurts like hell and now the burning in my asshole seems to spread itself into my thighs as well. I imagine I'm gonna be black and blue by the time he's done with me. He just keeps hitting away and I can fucking hear him chuckling when I'm not making as much noise as I can in response to the pain.
"Some things can be worse than getting your ass whipped, faggot. Tonight you find out just how bad it can get, and I want you to know that I'm enjoying every second of this, being given this chance to punish you for breaking whatever rules you were given."
Finally the beating stops, but then I feel even worse pain. He's taken my ball sac in one hand and is pulling it away from my body. Then that fucking spoon starts hitting my extended balls and the pain shoots right through my stomach and OMG this is the worst pain I've ever felt. I'm fucking screaming behind the tape wrapped around my mouth.
He stops hitting my balls. "Press down, shit out what I shoved up your ass. Do it!" The burning has died down, fortunately, but what could be more humiliating than my thinking I'm actually shitting while he watches me and laughs at me. He never lets go of my ballsac through all this ordeal.
And then he starts beating my nipples with that fucking spoon. Holy God, this hurts worse than the most cruel thrashing!
Finally it stops.
"As soon as I take the tape off your mouth I want to hear you saying how sorry you are for trying to take matters in your own hand and how you promise to obey all the rules and become a good slave."
The tape is ripped off and it stings my lips. I start babbling like a little boy saying "sorry, sorry, sorry" over and over again and promising that I won't do anything without permission ever again. "I promise to be a good boy from now on, to be a good slave for everyone and never to do anything without permission, please, Master, please, help me be a good boy," and on and on, then I remember that this room is completely bugged so Gabriel is probably watching me be punished and hearing my promises blurted out in the midst of my sobbing now that my mouth is uncovered again. My tears are running down the sides of my face and I'm drooling all sorts of junk from my mouth and it's getting all over.
He takes his hand and wipes some of the gunk that's fallen on the desk and then rubs it all into my face again. For once I'm glad my eyes have been taped up so that nothing gets in them. Then he makes me lick the palm of his hand and I swear I might puke when I realize what I'm licking up.
He cuts the tape binding my legs and then slides me off the desk and onto the floor and I pretty much collapse there with my head down to the ground. With a swift action he manages to cut the tape binding my wrists and for the first time my hands are free but I don't dare touch myself anywhere I'm hurting. I remember that rule that I can't touch myself anywhere I've been hit. Thank God I remember and catch myself before my hands try to soothe my aching nipples because right now that's what hurts the most.
I put them down on the floor so I can hold myself up a bit. "So, pain pig, how do you like it? Does your sobbing turn you on as much as it turns me on? I've got to tell you, sport, from now on whenever I see you on campus I'm gonna remember what you looked like right now after I was able to beat the shit out of you. Perfect picture of what happens to naughty slaves. We should make a poster out of it to warn the others. Drink up the pain, pig! Learn to eat it and drink it. And never fucking use a safe word when someone's taking you to new levels, faggot. You deserve all this for being such a fucking pervert! You deserve to hurt a lot, faggot."
And with that I hear him walk away. He just leaves me there down on the ground, still sobbing and choking a little. Tape hanging from my wrists and my face and I have a lot of trouble finding the end of the tape around my eyes so I can pull it off me. It's soaking wet on the inside from all my crying. Once I get it all off me, I just collapse completely down on the floor and sob myself to sleep.
When I wake up, all the lights are still on in the room but I can see that it still looks dark outside the window. First thing I try to do is get all the tape off my body and just leave it there on the floor. I haven't been ordered to clean up after myself and I'm not going to do anything except get the hell out of this goddamn room. My face is soaking wet and feeling really disgusting. My thighs ache, my balls ache, there's still a little bit of burning up my ass and my nipples are on fire. I hear a voice. It's Gabriel's. "I hope this will help you be a good boy. I don't like to have you punished all the time. Try not to get in any more trouble, Terry."
And I start sobbing again, just to realize that he's the one who arranged for me to be punished this way. He saw it and did nothing to stop it. He says he doesn't want to have me punished, but does he really mean it? Or did he jerk off watching that guy torturing me the way he did? He says he doesn't want to see me punished, but why does he keep watching and listening? Why does he keep giving me away to others to be punished?
Fuck, fuck fuck. I think I know the answer. He prefers being gentle with me, but he also has no qualms about turning me into his whipping boy whenever he knows I deserve it. And do you know what? All of a sudden I'm hit with this overwhelming yearning to just be lying in his arms and having him hold me as I weep into his chest. "Oh please, Gabriel, please take care of your slave?"
The door opens. Someone walks in. When I look up through my still tear-filled eyes, I realize it's him. Full cowboy gear. A slave collar and lasso in his hands. That same smile on his face that is becoming a drug for me. A drug I take through my eyes. Needless to say, I start crying again.
He does and sits down on the couch. "Come," he says. "You know how to show your gratitude, sport."
I do know. I try to crawl to him but it's so painful to move right now because my thighs ache so much. Gabriel's got his brown boots on. I lean down to kiss them. "Get them off me. Show me you understand what you are." It takes me quite a while to strip his boots and socks off and strip his feet bare because just about every move I make hurts.
Finally, I'm done. He reaches forward, puts his hand on the back of my head, and pushes it down to his foot that he's raised off the floor. His toes are right there in front of my face. I try to get all of them in my mouth at once but he swats the back of my head. "One toe at a time, faggot. Suck off my smell."
Actually, that's an exaggeration. As usual, there's hardly any scent at all. It's just the idea of it all that matters, the symbolism. I do everything I can to show him how deeply I appreciate what he's doing for me. I wash his feet clean the way only a slave will do. When he's satisfied that I've done enough, that I've humbled myself before him enough, he does something else to break me even further, something I feared would one day happen to me.
"Kneel up. Open your mouth. Close it around the head of my cock but apply no pressure."
This can only mean one thing. I guess my time has finally come. I'm going to have to drink Gabriel's piss. Finally he's decided to demand that from me as a sign that he's conquered me completely. He makes it still worse as I wait for his flow to begin. He speaks in his most hypnotic voice. "Everything you eat comes from your Master, even when you eat his feet. Everything you drink comes from your Master, slaveboy. Everything. Every single thing I want you to drink. Hold it all in your mouth. Do not swallow. Just hold it and taste it. It's time, sport, time for me to turn my pain pig into a piss pig. That's another way I want you to serve me, slaveboy."
I find it hard trying to understand how it can be that a man who looks as cheerful and kind as he does could actually want to do something like this to me. It doesn't make sense to me. How could a kind and cheerful man like him actually fucking enjoy doing this to me and still say he cares for me when he cuddles and kisses me before putting me to sleep?
But wait: it doesn't matter whether or not I can understand it all. All I know is that all of a sudden my mouth is filled with his warm somewhat acrid piss. He pulls his cock from my mouth. "Look at me," he demands. I'm so fucking ashamed that I can barely manage to raise my eyes to his, but all I can think of is that if I don't do exactly what he wants me to do, he's not going to let me get all this piss out of my mouth. Finally, I raise my eyes to his, and fresh tears appear. He nods and smiles at me. "Now you understand what I want." He stares at me while I'm still holding his piss in my mouth. Finally comes the command: "Swallow it. Swallow your Master's piss, faggot."
I'm so glad to get it out of my mouth that it hardly even registers on me that I have just swallowed my first mouthful of Gabriel's piss.
He fills my mouth again and makes me wait again while he speaks to me. "Any time you ever think a critical thought about any other man who walks this planet, you just remember that you drink your Master's piss. You have no right to criticize anybody else. You are your Master's urinal."
I guess I was expecting it the piss burn on the way down, but no, nothing happens except for the taste being so strong in my mouth and in my throat. And so you know what makes me realize just how sick I am? The fact that in the thick of all this, the beatings, the humiliation, the degradation that he's subjecting me to as HIS SLAVE, if I'm completely honest, I have to say that basically, this is what I've always wanted but didn't realize before. No, it's not easy but after all, how many people can say that their lives are completely easy? If it's not one thing it will be something else.
I really wish I could just break down and end up crying to myself off in a corner of this room. But no. My Master helps me to get dressed then leads me out of this hateful room, downstairs and then back to my dorm room. "Go clean out your mouth and brush your teeth. Take some Ibuprofen for the pain. Have oatmeal and coffee for breakfast, then go to your classes. Soup for lunch and a milkshake. Try not to fall asleep in class. Be waiting outside the dorm at 3:40 this afternoon. Shorts and t-shirt. No underpants. Barefoot. I promise I'll let you have a nap when I get you home with me."
I yearn more than ever for him to tell me I've been a good boy, but he says nothing. Not even after I swallowed his piss. Despite how much I hate what he just made me to, part of me—the darkest part—is glad all this has finally happened.
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Rob