It Takes a Village - Chapter 5 Author: Conrad Tucker
I was in a peaceful sort of half-slumber underneath Henry's desk even as my knees were sore and my back ached from spending so much time on all fours. The weight of my usual chains that linked my neck, wrists and ankles added to my torment. The nose hook and spider gag that stretched my mouth open wide, though, was new and frustrating. As was the humbler keeping me lower to the ground by stretching my balls behind my knees through the wooden baseboards and string attachment to my ankle cuffs. There seemed to be a fresh box of gear at the door every day to add to Henry's growing collection of goodies as well as an endless amount of desire on his part to see how low I would go.
Still, despite all the discomfort, I was having pangs of pleasure - straining in my clit cage - from experiencing what had always been a fantasy I harbored deep down: that of almost 24/7 servitude. When I wasn't laboring for Henry at Starbucks at what he called "my twink job," I was chained up in the house as his and Marshall's servant. I was usually gagged because "fags should be seen and not heard" and had degrading words written on me. Right then, it was "tiny-dicked faggot."
I was insatiably horny and could not believe I had gone almost a month without cumming. In fact, in such heat, I had even agreed to give Henry the passwords and de facto control of my bank accounts. This seemed so extreme yet so hot. I had little cash and owed most of it to him anyway. When he made me beg for my weekly allowance to buy myself an iced coffee, I was leaking out of my cage - something Henry noticed and teased me about.
I heard the faint sounds of Henry building a DJ set through his headphones. He had let me suck his cock for nearly an hour but said he needed to concentrate, so I had since been licking his feet as best I could. Technically, it was my day off from Starbucks but, as Henry said, "a fag's work is never over."
"Can I borrow the fag?" we heard Marshall call from the other room.
"Sure, I'm not using it," Henry yelled back. He had taken to referring to me as an object and had told me I should stop saying things like "I" or "me" in favor of "this fag" or "faggot." Henry reached his hand under my desk and teased my plugged hole with his middle finger before slapping my ass. "Get going, bitch."
I stumbled from underneath the desk. All my body parts were working against each other as I struggled to crawl through the hallway and into Marshall's room. I winced as I overextended the humbler and my balls stretched downward. Marshall didn't even look down from his computer screen as he unzipped his pants and I took my place underneath his desk and slurped his hard cock down my throat. I kept my concentration as I heard Marshall clicking around on his mouse. At one point he looked down at me and just snickered with a contemptful laugh that made my clit jump.
As Marshall shot his cum down my throat, I had a sense of lightheadedness. Marshall spanked me, which I took as a signal to crawl back to Henry. Henry, busy at his desk said, "Wait in the corner, faggot."
Corner time, which Henry had increasingly been keeping me in when not in use, was the hardest for me to endure. Staring at the wall and left with just my thoughts, my mind would wander. I would start to feel guilty about how I was spending, or wasting rather, my time. The shame of being a submissive faggot would creep in.
Tears formed in the corner of my eyes. I was desperate to not go in the corner and instinctively started wagging my ass. Something came over me as I sat up as far as the humbler would allow and brought my hands to my chin. I found myself begging and whimpering like a puppy. I wanted to say, "Please, Sir" but the spider gag rendered me speechless.
Henry looked surprised and amused. I could tell he thought it was cute. "Wow," he said. "Does my puppy fag need more attention?" he cooed. I nodded my head and wagged my ass even faster. "Maybe it would finally like to cum?"
"Woof!" I croaked. I couldn't believe I barked.
Henry went to his closet and came back holding two dildos and a bottle of lube. He suctioned one to my corner time wall and put the other on the ground.
"I'll tell you what, faggot. It's earned it. It may cum," Henry explained as he lathered up the ground dildo with lube. "But it may only cum when both its holes are filled."
He guided me so that I faced the wall dildo at eye level and eased my hips backward as he removed my plug and replaced it with the bigger dildo behind me. I was situated so that I could suck and fuck each dildo from my puppy position.
"Be a good little fag. Practice its fag skills and it may cum" he said as he smacked my ass and went back to his desk chair.
I felt completely in heat as I rode the dick and invaded my throat over and over. The fact that Henry was basically ignoring me added to my debasement, making me feel primitive and in ecstasy. The spider gag and nose hook increased my drool. I really was just a stupid hole.
I sucked and fucked for what could have been forty-five minutes. I felt so desperate. If only I could be let out of my cage and stroke my dick like normal, I could easily cum. But I knew Henry would not allow it. I would have to earn a caged, hands-free orgasm.
Sensing my inability to cum on my own, Henry eventually came toward me and leaned down into my ear. "You realize you're literally my fucking slave, don't you?"
"Yeh-sha," I mumbled as I tried to pick up the pace.
"I took all your clothes. I took all your money. You have nothing," he said.
"Mmmm," I whimpered. I was feeling so close.
"You slave all day at work, and you slave all day at home. You're my property," he cooed. I found myself whipping my head back and forth.
"A man would not let this happen to him. But you're not a man. You're a stupid, useless little twink. You can't think or act for yourself, can you?"
"N-sha" I choked out. I was so on edge.
"You need a real man to control your life. Keep you caged. Chained. On your knees where you belong. Below our hard cocks."
"Ugh," I moaned.
"Just two holes for us to use. Put you to work doing all the chores men shouldn't have to do."
"Mmhmm."
"Why would I lift a finger when I own a dumb, pathetic little twink?"
I exploded all over the floor. Licking it all up at Henry's command, having most of my restraints removed, and curling up in the corner as Henry sat back down for work was all a blur.
All of a sudden, I started crying. I should not have given Henry my bank information. I shouldn't be staying locked all the time. This was too much. This was crazy.
"What's wrong, boi?" Henry asked as he nuzzled my hair. He grabbed a leash and attached it to my collar. I crawled as I followed him to the living room, sobbing. He patted the couch and I got up on it - a rare luxury as of late.
I laid my head down on his jeans as he continued to stroke my hair.
"You're okay boi. It's all okay. You're getting what you need, right?" Sometimes I was his object. Sometimes his pup. Other times his boi. I nodded shakily. At some point I accepted a glass of water from Marshall. At another point, I fell asleep - naked, collared, and caged - with my head on my Master's lap.