"good boy," I hear from the Dom's voice above me. Then he turns around and walks away from me while my face is still parallel to the ground and I just stay there trying to catch my breath. I finally realize that this isn't the type of event where relationships get established. This is all for small change, action for action, shot attention spans and very selfish and demanding Doms and Alphas.
Duke comes over a couple times and lets me replenish myself by hugging me in a corner for as long as I need. How much I adore him for how he spoils me all the time, asking nothing more than the delight of knowing that I can come to him any time my store of affection is depleted. But then, as soon as my tank is "topped off," to use a fuel analogy, he sends me back into the fray to do my part to keep our Superiors satisfied. they're the paying customers. We're just the slaves the Owners were able to bring in for the night.
Finally, late in the evening, Ron comes over and my heart takes a leap! Surely he wants me for more than a cheap thrill? Please? He gets me situated on all fours and orders me to crawl after him, right into the carpeted room for barefoot boys. Quickly I become one of them and the last thing I saw was Duke taking the boots away. Ron orders me to kneel before him. "I have a prior responsibility tonight and won't have time to make use of you, so I'm turning you over to one of the most demanding Masters here tonight. God help you if I get any complaints about your attitude and your service! Do you understand me, boy?"
I swallow a lot of disappointment. "Yes, Master. I understand. I will be a good slave for your friend."
He slaps me lightly across the face. "You will call him Master Skip. And how nice. Here he is! Raise your face so he can take possession of your eyes, slave."
OMG. Master Skip is the one I was calling `child Dom' before he stuck his ego into my subspace mind with a single touch. He sneers at me—or is it a smile? "I told you you'd be calling me Master before this night was over. Now get on your back. Raise your legs and wiggle your toes for me. I want to be able to look between them. Every fucking inch of your body belongs to me now, faggot, until I decide to return you to another Owner. Yeah, faggot. That's right. Keep wiggling them. Good. Now grab the backs of those lower legs and raise them all the way up and over your head. Spread em. Show me your hole."
Even his voice is young. This is just so fucking humiliating, being forced to do these kinds of things just to entertain some bossy brat whose uncle had been a Dom. And then, all of a sudden, I realize just how fucking stupid I am. This bossy brat is entertaining himself by humiliating me, by forcing me to hold my body so what he can stare right into my exposed asshole and I cannot let go of the position until he gives me permission.
So what does he do? He sticks his pointer finger into his mouth then leans forward and JAMS it right onto my hole, all the way in all at once and it hurts like the dickens. I cry out. Right away my face is barraged with slaps coming from each direction, then his finger is inserted again and I just concentrate on surrendering myself and all my dignity. "that's better, faggot. See how easy it is to train you to behave? We're gonna have a good time together, slaveboy." All this time he's keeping that fucking finger up my asshole and he's toying around inside me while I do everything I possibly can to "let go, let go, let go."
"That hole feels a lot more welcoming now, slave. Keep it that way or you'll feel the lash a lot earlier than I intend to use it on you." And so I'm gonna get whipped too. Neat.
He withdraws from me and lets me relax my position now to something a bit more natural. My legs are up and spread, revealing my balls and my entrapped dicklit. Master Skip uses one of his feet to torment the balls now, slowly and methodically, which results in tears flowing from my eyes but no noise being made. Once again he's managed to regulate even the way I react to the pain he's making me suffer. And oh, my balls ache so fucking much!
"See, boy? See how I can keep you suspended in pain for such a sweet time and watch the tears flow from your eyes without giving you any relief . . . . . my touch is magical, boy . . . making you hurt for your Master, aren't I? That's right, baby. Be sore for Master Skip. Admit that a younger man can turn you into a blubbering boy riding waves of pain just because I want to watch you suffer this way. . . . . so nice, boy. . . that's right, drink the pain. . . . . . . . oh yes. finally it stops. He reaches out with his thumbs and wipes the tears from my eyes, then he slowly runs his thumbs down my face and onto my neck, going lower and lower, scraping me a bit with his fingernails until at last he reaches my nipples.
"Now for the nipples, baby. Gonna make them hurt for me, boy? Gonna give them to me like a good slave? Yes, baby, nod that head. Sure I know you're afraid. But that turns me on even more that I can make you afraid . . boy . . .. . see what kind of a Master I am for boys like you . . . . . .oh here they are. So supple, so perky, so begging for attention, the kind of attention that only a Master can give them. So yes, they feel so nice in my fingers. Meanwhile, boy, give me your eyes, let me see the pain as it begins to show in them. Here we go, baby, gonna turn these nipples into genuine pain buds, little buds that send pain to a slave with just a tiny touch. That's right, boy, yes, I can see it begin in your eyes. Just like before, baby, not gonna hurt you too much, just gonna keep you suspended in pain like the slave you are."
###Sub Protocols: Rules for bois. Number 121: Pain is inevitable and should be gratefully accepted as a gift from a Master who cares. ###
He kept up displaying his utter contempt for all subs, but especially me. "Slaveboys like you need regular diets of pain. It nourishes faggots like you to suffer for men like me so you can realize just how much we despise you. Here we go, boy. There! Right there! That hurt is so sweet for me to see. Let's step it up just a bit more and then hold you there for a good long while. I want to see your corneas twist from the subjugation and pain a true Master can give to a boy like you. Take it, faggot, take the pain from your Master. Suck it in, drink it down, just like you'll be sucking in my cum and drinking it down and after that, I wouldn't be surprised if you end up begging me to piss down your throat as well, to show me you know what you're really worth for true men. You'll beg me to turn you into a fucking toilet. You're gonna beg me to make you into my urinal, slave. That's right, boy. Oh, the hurt is so pretty in those eyes of yours and the way you tighten up your face when you think about how much I'm gonna degrade you. Look deep into my eyes, boy, let me see the terror you have, terror of what else I'm gonna do to you."
He takes one hand off a nipple and I think I'm gonna find some relief but now, he has a whole other way of demeaning me up his sleeve. He takes his fingers and toys with my lips, invading my mouth and spreading the lips while he pulls out my tongue and then slaps it several times. He keeps lightly slapping my face right there at the tip of my mouth, back and forth, over and over, slapping then fucking my mouth with those fingers, then slapping me again and again while exploring the tip of my mouth and abusing my tongue.
"Yes, faggot, I'm training that mouth to become pussy for my dick. Right there at the tip, boy. I'm fucking training the tip of your mouth to be my pussy when I give you the tip of my dick and you surround it with those tender lips and give me extreme pleasure with lips and tongue, nibbling me and toying with my piss slit, thinking of how wonderful it will be to finally taste my piss when I decide to give it to you. That's right, faggot, show my cock how much of a pussy you are. Work those lips for me, faggot! Pussy-mouth, boy, that's what I'm training you to be for me."
I don't know how he manages it, but he actually manages to let just a few drops of piss fall from the tip of his dick into my mouth. "Taste me, you fucking pig. Taste your Master's juice. Learn to love it. Learn to crave it. Just that little bit will give you a taste of what you're missing. Some day, faggot, you're gonna come crawling to me and beg me to let you have just one more mouthful of my piss."
Three Doms stand around us, taking in every word, so aroused by Master Skip's intense way of breaking this slave's spirit, that they are stroking themselves. Skip backs away and gestures for them to make use of me, One after the other, they ram their dripping dicks into my mouth and order me to swallow as they shoot their loads down my throat, One after the other they shout in ecstasy as they unload themselves into my mouth and order me to swallow. Then, as if I couldn't possibly be more humbled, they wipe the tips of their dicks clean in my hair then turn to Master Skip and thank HIM for sharing the slut's mouth with them. Again and again he finds way to remind me I'm a toy he willingly shares with his colleagues. Again and again I learn how the only purpose I have here in this club is to increase this Master's image in the eyes of other men. Probably the greatest humiliation of all I receive from young Master Skip is that once he tires of me and simply walks away after ordering me to grovel with my head down on the ground. I'm glad I can keep my face hidden for a while because it gives me a chance to hide how emotionally devastated I am that he didn't take more time using me as his slave, that I'm not good enough for him.
Duke comes by and gently lifts me up off the floor and I fall into his arms and weep out my pain. WE must make quite a picture. Duke is the only man allowed in here tonight in a business suit rather than in leather or denim. That is a sign of how respected he is in the community. And so there stands, the middle-aged man in a business suit holding a naked twink slaveboy in his arms while the boy weeps into his neck while he uses his hands to calm the boy by running them up and down its naked back. And there we are.
Micro doesn't have to be at the door any more. While he's observing us, it occurs to him that there are probably a lot of middle-aged businessmen who would pay a fee for him to send in an attractive twink to strip naked in the man's presence and then the man could do whatever he wishes with his hands to inspect the boy's naked body. He makes a mental note to speak to Duke about this later on when the boy isn't near him. This could be far more lucrative than selling boys as houseboys because the boys could be used to service many clients in the same period of time it takes for the boys to clean a client's home for him. And even in that situation, the client isn't allowed to touch the boy. Or perhaps that could be offered for an additional fee.
But no, he's definitely going to follow through on the "office-visit" scheme. $150 for one hour; touching only. Nothing more than that because it would limit the amount of clients the boy could serve in a single evening. Or perhaps at a premium price the boy would masturbate to orgasm while the client watched. That could happen maybe only once a night, depending on the boy's abilities. And, of course, the best part of all this is that the boys used are already slaves and therefore get nothing for their service. He'll work out some promising arrangements with guys he knows who have that much power over one of the slaveboys running around the scene these days. This would be a good way to test them. Wow.
Micro manages to make contact with Duke before the evening is over and by the middle of the following week they've already located four different clients and had set up a schedule for me on Friday night. By then I'll have recovered from the "discipline" I received at the Cellblock party, and Duke made sure that no one would mark me up until after Friday. He wanted my skin baby-smooth for my debut performances. Speaking of performance, there was only one important rule I had to follow: I must play the role of a straight twink who needs the money. Therefore I should pour on the embarrassment and the defiant endurance at the indignity of being viewed by old fags as a sex object.
You know, I'm sure they could easily get straights to go for this deal. Oh, but wait! If they use straight college boys they'd have to pay them. I'm a fucking slave. I'm not getting paid anything. All the money goes to Duke and Micro. The real good thing about this is that Duke takes the cage off me on Friday afternoon and lets me take a hot bath to get it restored, but not to cum. "You'll get to cum if one of the clients pays to watch you do it. Otherwise maybe I'll let you cum before you go to sleep tonight." Of course, I know that means he'll probably jerk me off himself, and that's just fine with me because the cage will go on first thing in the morning again.
###Sub Protocols: Rules for Bois Number 103: A sub may be called on to use its acting skills for a Master's benefit. ###
As it turns out, all the "clients" are in the same two buildings on the same block in the city. I start at 7. I'm dressed like a preppy college boy with tan pants and a blue pullover under a white sweater. The costume isn't about to win any awards, but this getup will fit the fantasies of my customers. Customers? I have to laugh. I feel like a real slut even though these guys won't want me to service them. They just want time with some eye candy. harmless. And yet, this is a very different kind of naked. This isn't slaveboy nakedness. This is some college kid willing to let someone his father's age watch him strip and be able to touch his naked body. He's just a sex object, like some porn star or something.
Three of the clients are in this first building, the fourth on the next building over. First one is on the 73rd floor. I hope I don' t have to look out a window. I'd probably freak out being so high up. Oh well, this should be a lot easier than most of the things they think up for me to do to entertain them. So why is it that I still feel like a slave? Stupid question. Maybe it's because I am a slave and my Masters are making me do this.
That's the way it is. Nonetheless, I'm really gonna try to get into the head of one of the guys in my classes in school, but a str8 guy who's doing this because it's an easy way to make $50. (Reminder that the fee is $150, but I get none of it. I'm being generous, thinking they'd give the college boy $50.)
Oh well, here goes nothing, I say to myself as I push the 73 button in the elevator then almost barf when it take off so fucking fast and I'm there in no time. Gulp!
That's the end of this chapter.
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I also wrote two stories with another name. One is "Q sub" and the other "Adoring Devin."