Hi, this is my second story. Please email your questions, comments, suggestions, and orders to me at Jocksub@hotmail.com Just remember to address me as the little-dicked bitch boy I am big, well-built 20 year old guy in NYC, always looking for someone to take complete control of me.
His balls ached. He had stomped on his nuts a couple of times, Bill now remembered, before locking him up down there. Spreading his legs, held up in the air protectively over his jewels, making the sweaty, tired trunks drop down so he could pound the heel of his foot into `Billy boy's little ball-ys" as he demeaningly called them. The pain had made him pass out. Last night he had burned all of Bill's clothes, right before his eyes. What he had brought with him on the bus ride from New York to South Jersey, and everything else of Bill's he had seized from having them shipped to him from his place in the city. So, as Bill cowered there naked before the blazing fireplace, master standing tall over him with that same, evil smile, he watched as every single article of his clothing was incinerated. He suddenly felt more naked than ever before, even though this man had kept him naked inside of his for the last 2 weeks. The permanency of it was now settled, though. Billy could never leave this man's house, this man he barely knew. He was to cower there, naked and weak, for the rest of his days, completely dependent upon and vulnerable to this man who made him call him master. He had destroyed all of his credit cards and license. He had made Bill watch in the bathroom as he took a long shit and wiped his ass with Bill's passport, social security information, and Birth certificate before flushing it down the toilet. He saw the picture of his face smeared with this man's shit before it disappeared down the bowl, master sneering all the while. He no longer was. Master had done everything he'd said he would do, when they first talked online, and much more than Bill could have ever imagined.
Bill could not believe it had all gone this far. Bill did not consider himself a tease, but the 12 or so guys he had talked to in chats and through personal pages probably consider him as such. It's just that, after having a few mediocre-to-unpleasant experiences with guys from the web he didn't believe that anyone he talked to could really give him what he wanted and take what he wanted to have taken from him. This guy was different though. Bill truly wanted to please him, even though he demanded so much from him. At first, he blew him off, but Bill began having dreams about him, about this man he had never met or even received a picture of. He had sent the stranger two pictures of himself, with his face showing, but wearing a bathing suit. The man who would come to claim him immediately ordered to be sent photographs of much more, mainly of Bill, after shaving all of his body hair, from his toes to his armpits. Bill complained that he didn't have a digital camera and couldn't afford one at the moment, and the man demanded he borrow one of his friends. When Bill explained that he couldn't upload the pictures through his friends computer, humiliating nude pictures of his shaven body, the man typed "Tell. Them. The. Truth" and signed off. Bill didn't talk to him for a week and a half. In between, Bill felt the man's hold on him. He worked out at the gym three times a week, but never showered unless he was really in a rush. That was one of master's first mandates, that after having shaved his entire body, he shamelessly show his smooth bareass in the gym showers. A lot of Bill's friends worked out around the same time and in the locker-room he always inevitably saw at least one of them in various states of undress. Bill couldn't imagine what it would be like to expose himself to someone he knew in such a way, how he would have to explain why he was as smooth an 8 year old. Master talked about what it would feel like to know that every guy in the locker room and the shower was watching him, could see what he was missing. They would laugh, give him dirty looks, smile demeaningly, maybe make fun of him or rough him up. Everyone would know that he was not a man, master told him, "even though they probably already know when they see that little pecker between your legs there, boy." The man always taunted him about his cock size, even though he had never seen it and Billy had never told him how big his dick was. The man just seemed to know all of Bill's secrets, his most crippling insecurities and most hidden, humiliating needs, right from the beginning.
This was what he needed, Bill though as he stared at the electric razor in his hand. Its heaviness and black, metallic shape made it almost feel like a gun he was being forced to put to his head. He would play around with this guy but he'd never meet him, never let him actually take his body, Bill thought. I would never go farther than this, he told himself. Inside, though, he was compelled by an urge he couldn't explain to expose himself to this man. He had locked himself in the bathroom for the task of shaving off all his body hair, just as he had ordered. Bill looked at the camera he had set up on a tripod in the corner of the room. This was further than Master had demanded, but Bill was worried he had pissed him off with his hesitation before. He had received no emails from the man in over two weeks when Bill had not sent the pictures. Bill felt he had to make it up to him, and actually bought a digital video camera. In the electronics store, he could not get over the shame that his inexplicable need to please this man he had never met was driving him to buy a $300 dollar piece of equipment. But as the man had said in their conversations before, money would soon no longer matter to Bill. He had asked him
"So what were you planning to do before you were told that you were going to serve me for the rest of your life."
"I'm not sure, I guess I'm pre-law." Bill typed nervously, trying to regain some dignity in the situation.
"Well, forget it. Your mind is worthless to me and to the rest of the world. All you are is a mouth and a cunt for me to fuck, and two legs to get them around." From the start the man had called his asshole a cunt as much as he did an asshole, feminizing Bill and his body in a way that he found embarrassing but extremely titillating.
"Yes, Sir" Typed Bill. But he hadn't understood that at that point in time. But now here he was, not able to resist the life of servitude and dehumanization the man promised. Bill told himself it was just a fantasy as he brought the razor to his pubes. The soft buzz of the machine made its first plow through his thick dark mane. He was curious to see what he would look like without any bush, if he would look or feel like a little kid. He looked back at the camera, the red, steady light told him it was filming all of this. Maybe he wouldn't send the video to the man. No, of course he wouldn't, that would be crazy. He had no idea who this guy was, but from what he had said he didn't appear to care much for Bill's privacy. Once he gave this out to someone he met in a chat-room, the video could end up anywhere on the internet. He would just watch the video himself and jerk off to it.
Bill continued to shave off his pubic hair. He started at the top, to his thighs, and in between to his ball sac. He got lost in the monotone buzz of the razor. It stripped thatch after thatch of pubes, methodically clearing his crotch of all signs that he was over 11 years old. Soon, he was bare. He looked at his groin. His dick, not laughably small but nothing to shout about, especially on a big guy like him, looked a little larger, no longer covered by hair. But it looked so strange, the white flesh around it, he felt so much more naked now. And more vulnerable. He felt his dick looked more pathetic now too, as it had nowhere to hide. Bill looked down at the clump of curly, black pubic hair at his feet. Was he actually doing this?
Bill turned the razor back on, and closed his eyes for a minute to listen to its steady, menacing hum.