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I woke up on Sunday morning to find that I was still nestled in Sir's arms, his bare chest against my back, my cuffed hands against his groin, which was covered by a pair of shorts. As for me, I was in my now-normal outfit - naked except for a collar and a chastity cage. The only thing that was different from how I'd woken up every night for the last week was that my wrists were cuffed behind my back, and that I was snuggled against my owner.
As I awoke, I felt the pain and stiffness the previous day's abuse had left me with. And I contemplated my new place, the place I had chosen: the property of a man I was not physically attracted to, subject to his every whim, whether that was to clean or do menial labor, whether that was to torture me, whether that was to use my mouth or ass for his sexual pleasure, or whether, as I'd learned quite vividly the day before, to use me to satisfy a friend of his in quite extreme ways.
But along with that, I remembered that even in the midst of torturing and degrading me, Sir had shown me that he cared, that I was more than a simple object. I may have been his property, but I was property he liked having around. And I recalled how I'd felt the night before - that I wanted to please him, that I wanted to make him happy.
So I started to rub his cock through his shorts. I didn't want to move too much, because I didn't want to startle Sir, but given how I'd woken him up on other occasions, I thought he'd appreciate this. Given that I couldn't move a whole lot, I couldn't get inside Sir's shorts, but I could definitely feel his cock getting harder as I slowly and gently rubbed my hands around it.
It wasn't long before I felt Sir start to move, and then slightly tighten his arms around my body. I felt his head next to mine as he whispered in my ear, "This is new, my straight faggot slave waking me up with a handjob without any instructions. It's almost like you like it. Well, boy, is this your place, serving another man, pleasing his cock while yours is locked up and you can't even get hard?"
Now that he's definitely awake, I start to rub harder, as I answer, "Yes, Sir, I've found my place as your slave."
"Mmmm, good, I like to hear that," Sir moaned, as he shifted slightly so that I could slide his shorts down a little bit and reach in to pull out his cock, which was now rock-hard. I started to jack him off, which he assisted with a few short thrusts before saying, "That's right, boy, but now it's time to get your mouth down on the cock that owns you."
I didn't even hesitate, but quickly turned around and slid down the bed until I could wrap my lips around Sir's meat, and gave him what was easily the most enthusiastic blowjob I'd ever given. Despite the difficult position, I slid my mouth up and down Sir's cock eagerly, most successfully resisting my gag reflex, and even when I didn't, I quickly took a gulp of air and immediately went back to my task. Sir just laid back, amused, as he commented, "Such eagerness, boy. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoyed being a cocksucker. Maybe I can turn you into a regular old faggot, hmmm? Nobody watching would know the difference."
Fuck, Sir always knew just how to get to me, just what to say to drive home the humiliation, how to emphasize the fact that I, a straight man, had voluntarily chosen to become the toy, the plaything, the slave, of another man - for what? A feeling of being owned? What was that, really?
I couldn't answer that question, at least not right now, probably because Sir's cock was more important at the moment, and I never slacked off my pace. Soon, Sir was cumming down my throat, letting me slurp down spurt after spurt of his seed. As I licked his cock clean, Sir chuckled. "That was delightful, boy. Keep that eagerness, that's exactly what I want to see. It was so wonderful that I'm almost willing to let you slide for waking me up without permission. But then, I own you, so I have a right to demand that level of enthusiasm, and to punish you. I'm the master, so I get to have it all, right, slave?"
When he put it that way, I had no choice but to agree. Besides, even if I disagreed, I would still submit to his punishment. "Yes, Sir, you do," I responded.
"Good, I'm glad you agree," Sir said. "So I'm going to go tie you up outside, then I'm going to make breakfast, which I will eat on the back porch. Then, when I'm done, I'm going to whip you. But I want you to spend the time in between coming up with a number between zero and twenty-five, which will represent the number of lashes you will receive. If you pick a number lower than what I have decided is the bare minimum, you will receive thirty lashes."
I immediately realized that, in addition to the physical torment that the whip would be, Sir was torturing me psychologically by making me pick the severity of my punishment, albeit with the caveat that I couldn't go too low or I'd suffer even more punishment.
I followed Sir to the back yard, where he threw a rope over a thick tree branch, tied my wrists together, and pulled them above my head until I was forced to stand on my tip-toes. Then Sir went back inside while I began puzzling over what number to pick.
I immediately realized that Sir may have already settled at twenty-five as his minimum, and everything else was just to torture me. That then led to the thought that maybe he was going to give me thirty no matter what - maybe he wanted me to ask for more than he'd required. But Sir hadn't really shown the desire to play those kinds of games, so I concluded that the offer was genuine, as long as I could figure out what number he wanted to give me. I decided five was too low, but twenty was probably higher than Sir's number. Ten seemed like a good number for his bare minimum, but that was risky. What if it was higher?
While I was making these calculations, Sir brought his breakfast out on the patio, and my stomach rumbled when I smelled it. I was hungry, but if Sir didn't want to feed me, he wasn't going to. I decided on the number I would ask for, then could do nothing but think about my situation while I waited for Sir. I found myself alternating between dreading the upcoming punishment, and feeling the humiliation of hanging naked in another man's backyard while watching him eat before permitting him to whip me. Well, naked except for the cage on my cock that quite clearly told me that I wasn't even in control of my own manhood, a fact I was reminded of when my cock twitched, trying to get hard.
When Sir finished eating, he stood up and walked towards me, holding a bullwhip. The sight of that, and knowing that it was going to be pain like I hadn't felt before instantly made me revise the number downward, hoping that Sir was feeling merciful. "How many lashes am I giving you, boy?" Sir asked.
"Ten, please, Sir," I answered, nervously looking at the whip.
"That's rather low, don't you think?" Sir said.
"I know it's on the low side, Sir, but because I woke you up solely to please you, because I've never been whipped before, and because I'm still recovering from yesterday's torture, I hope that you are willing to be merciful, even if I deserve more than ten," I replied.
"Ten it is," Sir said. "Open your mouth." I opened my mouth and quickly had a ball gag pushed in, to help muffle my screams, I'm sure. Sir walked behind me and cracked the whip across my back. The burning was like nothing I'd felt before. I screamed and writhed, This was a true punishment - the pain was almost more than I could handle, but I fought through, and settled myself down, only to feel another crack across my back, though this one did feel slightly lighter than the first one. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and I still screamed and pulled at my bonds.
Sir continued to give me all ten strokes, each one reducing me further to a screaming mess. Totally drained, I sagged in my bonds, hanging by my wrists. I was vaguely aware of Sir untying the rope holding me up, but I didn't fall. He walked towards me, holding the bonds tight so that I stayed up. "Stand up, boy. I don't want you to hit the ground when I let go."
Tears in my eyes, I fought to obey. I found my feet and stood up straight, as Sir relaxed the rope holding my wrists, allowing me to bring my arms down. "You did good, boy. I know that hurt, but it could have been a lot worse. That was probably about a 4 out of 10."
I nodded, unable to speak clearly with the gag still in my mouth. Sir untied my wrists. Looking down, I saw the rope marks, and I realized that I wanted more of those in the future. They looked incredibly hot! Sir also removed the ball gag, before instructing me to pay attention as he taught me how to wind the length of rope back up. I did, and I learned how Sir wanted it done, certain that he would make me responsible for doing so in the future.
Sir had me carry the rope, the whip, and the gag inside, and put them away in his play room. Then I returned for his breakfast dishes, which I washed and dried. As I knelt in front of Sir in the living room, he said, "Well, boy, I've tortured just about every part of you this weekend, haven't I?"
I grimaced. "It certainly feels that way, Sir."
"And how do you feel about that, boy?"
I had to think for a second before I answered. "I'm conflicted, Sir. I don't love the pain for its own sake. But I do like that I don't have control over how my body is used. I like that you, as my owner, can do things to me that I otherwise wouldn't agree to. If you ask me if you can, say, throw footballs at my naked body, I'm going to tell you and everybody else no. But you don't have to ask, and you don't ask. And I don't know why that makes it better. It should make it worse, but in that circumstance, I actually like it."
Sir pondered my answer for a while before responding. "You really are a slave, you know that? I'm glad I found you." He reached out and ruffled my hair, like I was a boy. And I realized that I was, in a way. I was Sir's boy.
Sir continued. "I know you're tired. I'm tired, too, believe it or not. So I think we're going to spend the rest of the day relaxing. At least mostly relaxing. For now, you can lay down on the couch, with your head in my lap."
Before I could lay down, though, Sir dropped his pants, leaving just a pair of boxers between his cock and where my face would soon be. Just a few weeks ago, I would not have considered that position relaxing, but now I was grateful for it. I promptly laid my head down on top of Sir's lap, and he started to absentmindedly rub my hair while we watched a movie on the TV.
After a while in that position, Sir told me to get him a beer, and to get myself a glass of water, then to come back. I was a little stiff, so I was slow to get up, but I complied, and Sir didn't rush me. When I came back, I handed Sir the beer and took a drink out of my glass, before setting it on a coaster out of the way. As I laid back down, Sir asked me, "It's been a whole week since you came, hasn't it?"
"Yes, Sir," I replied, realizing that he was right.
"That's probably the longest you've gone without an orgasm in a while, I'm guessing," Sir said.
"Yes, Sir. I don't know if I've ever gone that long before."
Sir reached over and lightly flicked the chastity cage. "And how does this thing feel?"
"It's uncomfortable, Sir, especially when I try to get hard, which has been happening more and more often," I answered truthfully.
"That's fair. It's supposed to be uncomfortable, you know. I don't want you to forget about your cock. I want you to constantly be reminded of it, and that you don't have control over it anymore. I want you to have a constant reminder that your cock, and by extension you, belong to somebody else - that you belong to me," Sir said.
"Well, Sir, mission accomplished," I laughed. "I don't think I've forgotten that since I agreed to become your slave."
"Good boy," Sir said, and he must have meant it, because I was starting to feel his cock hardening in the boxers against my face.
"I want to take it off for a while, boy, but I'm not going to let you cum. Are you going to behave yourself if I do?" Sir asked.
I was excited just to have a chance to have my cock free for a little bit, to experience an erection for the first time in a week. "Of course I will, Sir," I said.
"Better safe than sorry. Go to the playroom and get a pair of handcuffs," Sir ordered. I immediately got off the couch and crawled to the playroom. I found a pair of police-style handcuffs and brought them back in my mouth. I crawled right up to Sir, who laughed and took them from my mouth.
While I was gone, Sir had removed his boxers, and reseated himself on the couch. He instructed me to stand up, cuffed my hands behind my back, and then he unlocked the chastity cage and gently removed it. My cock, sensing it was free, instantly sprang up. "Lay back down boy, but instead of watching TV, I want you to worship my cock and balls. Notice that I said worship and not suck. The point is not to get me off, but to use your mouth to show me how much they mean to you."
How much did another man's genitals mean to me? They shouldn't have meant a whole lot, not for me. But I had incurred a punishment earlier today for being too vigorous in showing my appreciation for Sir, so they clearly meant something. My straight brain was feeling so confused today, but I knew what Sir expected. So I laid down and immediately began to kiss Sir's cock and balls all over.
While I did that, Sir began slowly stroking me. "Now remember, slave, no cumming. If you're close, tell me so I can stop." Even without the hope of an orgasm, I was thrilled to receive the attention, and my cock was rock-hard as it was being stroked.
After just a few minutes, I had to break off my kissing of Sir's balls to inform him, "I'm getting close, Sir." I had somewhat hoped he would reconsider his position, but he simply stopped stroking me, while I went back to kissing his balls while his hard cock lay across my face. I made sure to swallow my disappointment and not let it show - Sir had said I wouldn't be having an orgasm, and it was his choice to give me pleasure, the same as it was his choice to give me pain. And even a slow stroke was better than being locked in chastity.
After a little while, Sir started stroking my cock again. I made sure to keep my focus where he'd told me to keep it, on his cock and balls, which I had started to lick. This time, Sir only jerked me for a minute or so, before he stopped on his own, but he quickly moved his hand to my balls, which he rolled around gently.
"I'll bet you just want to get that cum out of these slave balls, don't you, boy? But you won't, not today, and not until I feel like allowing you. Look at you, kissing and licking at the manhood of the person who denies you the use of your manhood. A week ago, you were a free man. If you wanted to jack off, you could. But now you're a faggot. You gave up that ability. You gave up that freedom. Your body doesn't belong to you anymore, does it, fag? I decide when you feel pleasure. I decide when you feel pain. I decide when you use your mouth, your ass, and even when you use this faggot dick you have. That's right, kiss my cock in the hope that I'll touch yours, even for just a few seconds."
I had responded to his taunts about my status with a renewed burst of kissing up and down Sir's shaft.
"Do you want to suck it, boy? Do you want to suck the cock that owns you, fag?"
"Yes, Sir," I said, because I knew that's what Sir wanted me to say. But it was more than that. I did want to please Sir, and if I could do that with my mouth on his manhood, I wanted to do that.
"Then go ahead, slave. But take your time. I want to savor this."
I immediately put the head of Sir's cock inside my mouth and began to lick it. I slowly slid my mouth down his shaft, my throat training from the past week coming in handy as I was able to take it more easily than I'd been able to before. I used my mouth to caress Sir's cock, giving it every bit of the attention I'd been giving it when I was kissing and licking it. I focused on that cock, and tuned everything else out, except when Sir would moan or praise me. I filed away what I did to remember for later.
I also kept an ear out for Sir's brief humiliations. "Suck my cock, fag." "That's where my slave belongs." And so on. They made me feel belittled, which made me feel turned on. Not that my cock could have gotten any harder, as Sir was alternating between rubbing my shaft and rubbing my balls. I was desperate to cum, even though I knew Sir wouldn't allow it, so I didn't even bother asking.
I must have gotten a little too into the blowjob, though, because the next thing I heard was Sir saying, "Slow down, you eager little faggot. It's hard to believe you're straight when you're sucking another man's cock that eagerly, like you can't get enough of it."
Ashamed, feeling the burn in my face, I slowed down. I reminded myself to focus on Sir's cock, and the proper method for pleasuring him, and not what he was doing to me.
After what seemed like a substantial amount of time (though I wasn't exactly watching the clock), Sir lifted my face off of his cock and said, "It's close to supper time, boy, and I'd prefer for you to make it." He instructed me on what to make, and where the ingredients were, and sent me off with a smack on my ass as I crawled into the kitchen to make dinner for us. I hadn't realized how hungry I was, but now that I was going to get a chance to eat, I could barely concentrate on actually making the food.
I managed to make dinner without burning it, or sneaking tastes for myself, which was difficult. I set it on the table and served Sir's plate, then informed him that dinner was ready. Sir promptly came into the dining room and sat down.
"You can eat when I'm done, boy. While I'm eating, continue where you left off." Disappointed that I wouldn't get to eat right away, I crawled under the table and positioned myself between Sir's legs. I remembered that my previous instructions included to take my time, so instead of immediately taking Sir's cock back in my mouth, I spent some time sucking on his testicles, and then I started alternating sucking on Sir's cock for a while, followed by his balls, then back to his cock.
My jaw was tired, and I was hoping he would want me to finish him off soon so I could eat, when I realized that I hadn't heard the clink of silverware on plate in a while. How long had Sir been sitting there, just letting me suck him off? I had no way of knowing, but knowing that Sir didn't even care that I hadn't eaten while I was gobbling his cock made my still-free cock get hard again.
Knowing that Sir was done, I took a calculated risk and increased my pace, focusing on Sir's shaft. I soon heard Sir moaning, telling me he was getting closer. Then, suddenly, Sir put his foot into my stomach and pushed me away. I was actually disappointed and upset that Sir hadn't cum down my straight throat, when I realized what he was doing.
Sir stood up and started to jerk himself off, and within a few seconds, I could see him cumming, and it looked like he was cumming all over the table. Then Sir picked up his plate, which was covered in food, and set it down in front of me, and I saw what he had actually spurted all over - my dinner.
"Eat up, fag," Sir laughed, as he stood back up. So not only was I going to have eat cold dinner because I'd had to spend my time pleasuring another man, now I was going to have to eat his semen along with my food. And I'd have to do it like a dog, without utensils, while naked, in another man's house. But I was so hungry that I set to it right away, regardless of how humiliating it was.
Sir just sat back down and watched, chuckling occasionally while rubbing in how humiliating it must be for me. "Straight, huh? You wouldn't guess it, seeing the way you're gobbling up another man's seed. And that's before we look at this cock that I own. Feel how hard it is?" Sir rubbed my cock gently, and gave it a squeeze. "I don't even think I was this hard when I was whipping you, boy. And here you are, another man admiring your naked body, touching it, watching you eat off the floor like a fucking dog, and you're as hard as a diamond in a snowstorm."
I finally finished my meal, man-juice and all. Sir said it was time to put my cage back on, and instructed me to stand. Knowing it wouldn't fit over my hard cock, I didn't know how Sir intended to make that happen. Then I found out, when Sir grabbed my testicles and squeezed so hard that I saw stars. It didn't take long before my penis softened, and Sir was able to expertly slip the cage back on.
Sir told me to go ahead and clean up dinner. I did the dishes, wiped the floor down, and came back to Sir. He said he wanted to discuss some things with me.
Sir said he would be out of town during the upcoming week, but that he'd let me know if I needed to do anything for him. He told me to keep my collar with me when I left the house. He gave me some dates in the future to take off from work, but didn't tell me why. Then Sir said that it was late, and it was time to go home.
I crawled behind Sir to the door, thinking that it was nice of him to walk me out. But when we got outside, Sir told me to wait and kneel before I got in the car. Then he pulled out his penis and aimed it at me. "Keep your mouth closed, fag. I want to give you something to remember me by," Sir said. Then he let loose a stream of urine right into my face. Then he moved it up and down my body, coating me in his urine. When Sir was done, I had to lick the last few drops from the end of Sir's penis, then he sent me on my way with just my pants from Friday on.
I got back to my apartment and quickly took a shower to get the smell of Sir's urine off of me. Then, exhausted from being used and abused all weekend, I quickly fell asleep.