Disclaimer: The following story contains nonconsensual and violent elements heavy in domination and sadism. Do not read if that is not to your taste.
The Punished
I woke earlier than I normally would, filled with excitement. I wondered if all I had experienced had just been a fantastic dream until I opened my eyes and saw various hooks in the ceiling above me and saw the gorgeous sprawling room. The desk with the computer still had a pile of whips, clamps, and other objects I had set there that I needed to put away. I cleaned the room, made the bed, showered, dressed and went to the dining room which was quiet apart from a repetitive mechanical whirring sound. An amused Mr. Mitchell sat at the head of the table, "Good morning, I love what you've done with the place in your short time here." He chuckled.
No doubt what he found amusing was that the dining table had my raped priest installed naked on all fours again, in the center of the large dining table. He was similarly positioned to how he had been when I violated him the previous night, shins and forearms flat on the hard table, wrists and ankles shackled, this time both at the wrists and over the forearms under the elbows and at the ankles and legs below the knees. Every inch of his tanned body was oiled to make his smooth torso shine and bring out all his tensed well developed muscles. The oil also enhanced the hairy legs and ass with much the same effect his sweating from my entertainment had before, matting the hair to his skin, espevially at his thighs and buttocks.
He had a head harness that secured a leather panel gag over his mouth, while also securing nasal hooks in his prominent nose pulling it back to look like a snout. The head harness had a metal loop at the top of his head tied to a thin black rope that ran taught over his back and connected to a chrome anal hook that curved over the crack of his ass and disappeared deep in his straight catholic asshole. The tightness and length of the rope made it so he had to keep his head angled up with his chest out to avoid a painful tug that would pull the hook up his rectum. He would tire of the position, lower his head slightly, whimper as his ass was pained, then reassert his forced nipples out head up posture.
Mr. Mitchell smiled, "Nicely done. I hope you don't mind me taking the seat facing the head, but I enjoy a man forced to display his tits to me, and thought you might enjoy a side view better given how you had them rig his cock." I sat squarely to the side, the table was massive so the display was feet away from where we sat, but from the side I could better enjoy the source of the mechanical whirring that filled the room. The cock was forced into a mechanism that was continuously stuck stimulating a rock hard erect cock. A silver platter under him had multiple splats of cum, it was clear a few had been thick and white like the night before, but there were also more liquid areas from later ejaculations. He had clearly spent a lot of his sperm. He had a pathetic look in his eyes, but may have been too dehydrated to actually cry.
"I had them feed him Viagra and rig him like this, I wanted constant stimulation on his cock for contrast to the rest of his celibate life until now. The anal hook I saw in the toys and since I tore him I figured it would be fun to agitate the throbbing hole." He smiled, "Someone is learning. Well they're about to bring in eggs and bacon for us, to have with our sperm show, and I can tell you about the plan for today." As he spoke a man brought out plates of bacon and eggs and et them in front of us, followed by coffee, and orange juice. I was offered cream and sugar and declined. "Dark and bitter," Mitchell said, "Just like me." I noticed he wasn't taking cream or sugar either, but as he was a fairly dark skinned black man who enjoyed torturing straight boys, I couldn't tell if he was referring to the coffee or himself. His eyes twinkled like he knew and enjoyed what I was thinking.
We began eating, he took a bite of eggs and looked at me, "So today I'd like to show you the revenge side of the buiness and I'll show you my office." I nodded, "Sounds great." We continued to eat quietly, just my sex pig priest's cock being pumped and his whimpering in the background. A sloppy splat hit silver and the bitch shuddered. We finished and on the way out I looked back at my displayed bitch, "Could we have them clean him up, feed, water, clean him out?" Mitchell shrugged, "Sure thing." I added, "And during that could they make him lick up all his cum and record it?" He grinned, "Sure thing."
We left my temporary residence and made our way to the main building. It was large and imposing, gorgeous architecture, and I knew filled with all sorts of sexual deviancy being taken out on straight men. I knew from selecting Ortiz that there were at least ten "unbroken"men in there and assumed that there were at least double that if you included broken ones, and more still if you included the ones picked personally just for clients that wouldn't have been offered to me. If we were doing the "revenge" side of the business that meant we were going to be punishing someone for something on behalf of a client. We came to the large double doors and went in.
There was a large stylish hall, the same lines and art deco decor as my smaller place. The main difference was the size, it took up two stories and has three large ante chambers, two on either side and one ahead. The two had large mahogany doors, and the back had an elevator. The hall where we entered had a raised empty platform in the middle of it. Beyond that was a large reception desk with a computer and several screens in front of a little enclosed room. We walked around the platform to the desk, one large black bald man sitting there. "Hi there Marcus, this is my new protogé." Marcus smiled and greeted me, then went back to scrolling on the computer.
"On the right we have ongoing projects, training, sexual predicament setups, and some of our tech team. On the left we have some private areas for clients that want to play away from home with their snatched victims." We walked into the back chamber, "That elevator goes to the top floor which is all mine. And these doors," he pointed to two doors on either side, smaller versions of the large ones in the front two chambers, "go to the lower levels, of which there are many. A milking facility for cum cows for example, and other facilities that use our straight snatches for profit in various ways." I asked, "Various ways?" He nodded, "Studios where fun is recorded or live streamed for pay per view or to send to clients who want distance but evidence, or masturbation material. Some highly experimental work to test drugs and tech we use or develop, and...other things." I think he liked being ominous and ambiguous, I didn't ask more about the "other things."
"Alright, this way." He guided me to the elevator at the back and we went up and the doors opened on Mr. Mitchell's top floor. It was sleek, fine lines, the same art deco style to which I had become accustomed. It was growing on me, elegant surroundings for a brutal business. I enjoyed the contrast.
We walked out into a smaller hall with a large skylight and four double doors evenly spaced. I noticed on the walls in contrast to the usual clean look, there were large movie poster sized framed pictures. All were men, victims I assumed, and most were different. About every other one was a forced face picture of a ball gagged man, all handsome and very different. A smooth black boy with gorgeous big lips over his gag looking defiant, a middle aged Italian with a dental gag contrasting with other profile pictures I had seen, an extremely sexy blonde haired brown eyed model gorgeous young twenty something with the typical ball gag and spittle down his chin looking fearful. Those were similar to what I had seen, but there were different ones, full bodies and various states, some simply stripped, some in predicament bondage, some in couldn't even figure out exactly what was happening. Mr. Mitchell looked appraising at the hall, "My favorites. Favorite cattle and favorite situations and fates. He walked to one closest.
It was a naked pained college age Asian guy, tied into a crozz legged position in the ground, he had reared up as the picture was taken to show he was seated on a large dildo. His hands were tied behind his back. The interesting part was a leather strap around his head secured a three foot long tube that disappeared into his mouth. Mr. Mitchell himself was holding the tube which forced his head back and the picture and been taken just after a small scorpion had been dropped by my new friend, midway in its decent down the tube. The terror in the young man's eyes was palpable. "I enjoyed that one, Steven Chang, he was counting cards at a casino of a friend. Boy was terrified of insects...he took in several by that time, I forget how many I made him swallow. Millipedes, cockroaches, and that was the last...he couldn't get it down." I was a little turned on and a little horrified. "Once he failed with the scorpion we removed the tube and put it somewhere else ..." Damn, don't count cards I guess.
"Now I could go over these for a year, but let's get to the matter at hand. In my office." We entered the closest double doors on the right. Mr. Mitchell's office was large and square, he had shelves of books books on two sides covering the walls with statues, tokens, and different object displayed. I noticed there were a few stained underwear and jock straps under glass with small pictures and labels next to them, likely the former contents of the underwear were the pictured men. I also noticed little jars of what had to be cum, and some bags of pubic hair different shades. Also a display case of clearly personalized dildos of different sizes and shape, a large one was dark black, nearly a foot long, and curved to the left. It seemed like Mitchell collected more than just his cattle's pictures.
It was all very old world class interspersed with clear sleazy perverted objects. I liked it. There was a huge desk and high backed leather chair facing away from a large window that poured light into the room. In the large space between the desk and the door were low accent tables with smaller leather benches on either side of the room. Two chairs faced the desk. In each chair was a man. With a bulky thug next to each wriggling straight captive.
Mitchell walked over and sat in the desk chair facing the men and I joined him. I couldn't help but notice under the desk was a bound youth, a lithe blonde white boy, on his knees, legs spread attached to leather loops down the floor, cock locked. He was breathing slowly, pink tender nips rising and falling. His hands were behind his back. His head was in a rig holding it firmly face forward towards Mr. Mitchell's crotch, the rig covered most of his face forcing his mouth open with an o ring over which tender lips quivered. His brown eyes looked at me then started back to the crotch before him. Mitchell nodded forward and I moved my attention to the men in the chairs.
Both were stripped naked, shackled to the arms and legs of the chair, gagged with red ball gags. The one on the left was skinnier, an athletic thin with some hair on his chest that extended in a trail to a dark bush and average uncut cock. He was generally handsome with a slightly small chin and full trimmed beard bringing it out a bit. The other was more definied and a little juicier while also lean, he looked younger with boyish good looks and full lips but he sported a salt and pepper goatee contrasting with his youthful appearance. His chest was smooth with two round mocha nipples and no treasure trail, as if his torso were shaved, but sported a full dark bush and a slightly larger thicker cock than the man with him. Both men struggled and looked around, the thinner one seeming more scared while even in his current predicament the younger one looked defiant.
"These are Francis," he pointed a long dark finger at the thinner one, "and Alvaro" he moved it to the defiant younger one. "They came across some cartel members doing something bad while biking together, they're from the Dominican Republic, and that would have been it for them...but Alvaro here," the man bucked and grunted, his sizable yet still flaccid cock jiggling on his dark bush, "Started calling the cartel members some names when they came to kill them and they decided to make them wish they were dead and sent them to us to get creative. It's a lot of trouble trafficking men here, I should know...he must have been very nasty to them to warrant the expense. But we get to have some fun, the cartel hitman just wants to see some record of their fates and be assured they won't be walking free...so we have a rare chance to use them after some fun. Which would you prefer?"
I stared at them, the one on the left had become emboldened by his defiant friend, both now struggled. But the younger man with the salt and pepper goatee was the more interesting, I asked for him. "Good, get the spare across the hall tied spread ass up in my private room. The other leave here for now. Await instructions." The thugs methodically worked together on the older man removing him thrashing and dragging him out the doors as his legs kicked behind him against the floor. Alvaro was left as he was.
"Let's check the profile." He clicked the computer and brought up Alvaro's facility page. Social media pictures of the man in jeans and a decently stylish button up, him in a biking outfit with his friend who was being installed for Mitchell. Alvaro with what must have been his family, a wife and kids. Several pictures of him working on cars, apparently he had detailed them. Then a video of his processing, being stripped down to his skin and photographed.
"He's married, and a father..." I mused. The sexy stud just stared ahead stoicly. "Yes," Mitchell said, "Not a problem?" I shook my head, "Actually kind of hot somehow." He nodded in agreement, "Yes knowing they've had lives, breeding, spreading that seed has a certain quality. But being straight the ass is always virgin, and we need to fix that before I...finish him for the client. He will need to be punished more than just a fuck. You can have him now but unlike your priest and that coffee boy he is earmarked for a purpose. You can break him in, then we need to use him. I think you'll like how." I'm sure I would. "For now we have something that can let you play without this buck fighting...would you like to try?" I liked the fight but agreed. He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a syringe, and walked to the hunky restrained meat. He slid the needle into the neck, the man craned his gagged head away but there was nowhere to go. Whatever it was pumped into his bloodstream.
The wriggling man's struggling slowed and came to a stop, but he did not appear unconscious. His head was still craned to the side, eyes open and looking around, but every muscle was still. Mitchell placed a hand on either side of the straight husband's head, grabbed it and set it to look straight ahead. The facial muscles were relaxed, eyes the only part moving and still furrowed, the effect happened very quickly. "One of the things we developed down in research, paralyzes a man's large muscles almost instantly, but leaves him conscious with fine muscle control, expressions, fingers, etc still move but the long muscles, his legs, his chest are still. He can still make some sounds, look around from where he is facing, and importantly..." he flicked his cock and there was a whimper and grunt, "...feel. Getting it all right took ages and a lot of failures on a lot of subjects."
He undid the shackles and the man sat staring ahead, fingers and toes wringing a bit, angry eyes narrowed and staring at Mr. Mitchell. The older black man just raised his eyes at him, "I'll let you take him in the other room, you want to drag or need my help?" I gave it some thought, he was muscular but in a lean way, "I can do it." He looked towards the cock then ran his gaze over the whole body, taking him in, "if you want souvenirs please take some..." He didn't expand. I gripped the man under his shoulders and lifted him, as I dragged back the legs extended dragging on the floor, he made several resistant gunts but was mostly still, I enjoyed the feeling of his pit hair and I gripped his firm Latin body and dragged him, pecs bouncing a bit as he was lugged out. Mitchell helped with both sets of doors and when I got the fuck toy into the other room he shut the door smiling.
The room was smaller with a divan in the center, a couple shelves on either side, and three doors closed. A few decorative tables were by the divan and against a wall. I laid Alvaro on the divan, torso slightly stiff, and reclined him so he lay belly up. I noticed his cock lengthening, and suspected Mitchell had added another little bit of something to his injection...nice. It was thick and had a pulsing vein up the center, uncut, pulsing against his pelvis. His legs splayed on either side of the divan at one end, he remained defiant and had begun sweating trying to move his frozen muscles, they quivered but did not help at all. He was completely at my mercy. I admired his gorgeous Latin body a moment, the tanned skin and hairy legs, flat sexy stomach, all there for me.
Then I noticed a bag on the side table with my name on it, I opened it. Inside were vials and and a pair of tweezers along with a note reading For you're collection. -M I set the contents on the table and looked at the quivering man, frozen taught muscles trying to move in vain, I was standing above his head and he couldn't swivel his eyes to see me. I remembered Mr. Mitchell's office, the pictures and containers. The thought of keeping part of this virile straight breeder was arousing to me, and he was there for the harvesting, sweating more from what I imagined was sheer frustration. The brave defiant buck was not close to nervous yet in my estimation. I took a vial and a bag and the clippers and saddled up to him, seating myself on the divan by his head. His dark brown eyes swiveled up and narrowed at me and he grunted. I looked at him, I couldn't get over how attractive his boyish looks contrasted with his salt and pepper goatee. His black hair was slicked back, he either colored it or age hadn't effected it yet. He was so youthful and masculine, he couldn't be more than thirty.
"Well I think I am supposed to start a collection." Lifted and arm and viewed a sweaty pit. I took the tweezers and began, I plucked little tufts of fragrant hairs from his tender pit, and he made little sounds of discomfort and his pretty eyes tried to swivel to where I worked. I remembered he could still feel everything, the tug of the hairs and each as it pulled from his tender flesh. As I worked I took in the musk from his sweat. I got a good amount of hairs from both pits, manhandling his muscled arms up at my sides as I worked. His fingers slightly clenched as I harvested. Then I got another bag and got between his spread legs, I pulled the first pubes and appreciated a pained grunt. I didn't want to leave him bare, so I only took some, even enjoying a higher pitched whine when I plucked some directly from the base of his throbbing member....then had a thought. I turned a leg and pivoted him over then dragged the other flopping him on his belly. He wheezed and was a bit off kilter, but his bubble butt formed by lots of working out and biking rose before me.
I parted the cheeks and saw his magnificent tight little pucker, it was still able to clench, I thought of the development that must have gone into this paralytic, to keep him breathing and his ass tight, but paralyze his limbs...to have all those resources go into just snatching and using men... What else did this place have? I brought myself back to the moment and searched, sure enough, the straight bitch had some hairs along his delicate hole and taint. I plucked them all and he felt it and realized what was going on, and and bellowed like a bull. I enjoyed that and went until all around his hole, interior thin parts of his cheeks, and some of his taint were bare. "You think this is bad, imagine when I rape it." I moved my baggies into the bag and turned back, he was very comically positioned, like a discarded action figure.
I came back, and got him better positioned on his back like before, legs spread, tendoned big feet on either side, body straight this time. His cock still pulsed, the large member twitching with each pump of his healthy biker's heart, "I wonder how horny the drugs make you? A straight virile man, father, who has pumped out load after load into women. Is it so hard you hurt, I should help you out now you don't have a wife to assist you..." His eyes flicked down and he narrowed them again, I thought even his mouth frowned a bit more from its slack position. I gripped him and pulled a vial from my pocket. I ran the length of him, his veiny uncut cock manipulated, the tip of his pink dick head peaking out. I worked him and pumped, occasionally his breath would come harder and deeper, he made protesting sounds from behind closed lips. I went for minutes before I saw him swell even more and I held the vial up, tipped his cock forward and precum oozed and some was caught. Then I tipped the vial over and held it over his slit and pumped him hard, my thumb working his sensitive tip more until he wheezed and erupted into the vial, it was a perfect size and captured most of it, some oozing down the shaft. The man was now perspiring more and after I set the cum vial aside I went ahead and gathered some salty sweat from him too. I set my collection aside, and came back to him.
"Well you are quite the horny straight bitch aren't you?" He just stared, I couldn't tell what was going on in his straight machismo head after a man made him cum. I didn't really care. I now wanted my prize. And it was between his legs. I stripped naked and knelt by his face, "Like what you see?" He practically growled...I leaned into his handsome face so close I knew he could feel my hot heavy breath...and I kissed him. First feeling his lips with mine, then knowing he couldn't resist I reached up and squeezed his jaw open and molested his straight mouth with a curious tongue. I sucked his lips and licked his face. I wasn't romantic or gentle, just molesting that pretty face. I even sucked on the goatee inso admired and locked his white teeth. When I finished I leaned down to his ear, bit it, and whispered "now it's time to make you my bitch...I'm so glad you pissed those cartel cunts off and didn't get this ass wasted...now I get to fuck you." He now, after his facial molestation, did have a look of concern in his eye and his mouth hung open as I left it. And then we both heard it, from next door...I realized these chambers were not so soundproofed as Mr. Mitchell seemed to like things elsewhere.
It was an aggressive begging, impossible to make out and likely in spanish, I realized Mr. Mitchell must not have used the paralytic on his pick because mine couldn't speak just react in his throat. But the begging as desperate and then turned into screaming and shrieking, I didn't know what he was doing, he may have started fucking or from the sound could also be torturing the straight bitch next door. I found I could care less, and more wanting to use it to get my prime piece of straight meat marinated in worry. "Ah, seems like we both are there but he got to your pal's ass first...time to get into yours. I don't think we should lube you up, you are here to be punished." He tried to speak but just upset sounds came out, a bit rushed and more concerned than just defiant grunts. But then he narrowed his eyes and breathed out his slack open mouth...I made it my mission to make him hurt.
I got to the foot of the divan and moved a hairy muscular leg to the side exposing his rump, twisting his hips but leaving him staring up at me. I wanted to look into his eyes. The muffled sound of his friend carried through and continued as I worked. I leaned my cock against his hole dry, and slammed in. His eyes widened and he let out a heavy wheeze and I plunged all the way in ignoring any resistance. I heaved into him, gripping his leg and it pushed up as I broke into him. I fucked until I began to slide and he let out a moan and a whine, I definitely tore him. I fucked hard and fast, pumping as deep as I could, coating my cock in the straight man, cunting him out. His pretty brown nipples bounced as what little body fat he had moved over his stone frozen pecs. The effect turned me on and I felt my cock harden and lengthen more up the ravaged anus. Now he was making the best sounds he had produced, desperate whining and even a throaty shriek with one particularly heavy thrust that hurt my pelvis.
He pitched up and down and I moved in and lifted both legs over my shoulders, pulling him into me. He was fit and solid, if he'd been a bigget man it would have been harder, but with his lean muscular biker's body I was able to and feel his hairy thighs at my sides as I shoved my pulsing cock into his torn hole. He couldn't speak, but he let out ragged breaths, and his pretty eyes watered, leaving thin trails down the sides of his face. He was now all sweaty and shining, from pain and perhaps the effort of willing his useless muscles to move and free him from being violated and debased like this...a living hell just forced to look up at me enjoying every minute of inflicting myself on...and in...him. I loved that he was unable to resist but felt every single sensation. First and foremost my gay cock ripping into him, but also my hands gripping his legs, the skin of his back sliding along the divan as he was pitched to and fro, my thighs slamming into his juicy backside, his still rigid cock bouncing against his plucked pelvis. I noticed some redness and dried remnants of his own cum as I watched his cock bounce to my rhythm.
"Oh God you're such a tight bitch," I said aloud, "Jesus fuck," I looked down and saw my naked cock slick with his blood, "Oh and I definitely tore your cunt too, so fucking tighhhhht" I shuddered and came in his violated chute. I pumped a few more times then slid out feeling his warm cunt against me a final time, and pushed his legs back down. "God you were good, and I don't think you can even push my cum out either." He just lay there, no expression in his eyes, just two tears had fallen down his still brown face. I moved and pulled under his shoulders getting his head to the end of the seat. I pushed his head so it was held aloft off the seat, his mouth was still open as it has been throughout, some saliva dripped up his inverted goateed face. I got my still hard cock above his nose, "Smell it," I knew he did, the room reaked of sex, but the cock had to smell of his juicy ass. Then I shoved the cock in his mouth against a cheek, and moved it around, "Taste it." He moaned which tickled my sensitive cock. Then I pulled out and let it smack his face a few times. Then began to clean off and get more situated. I realized the sounds of the man next door being bitched out had ceased, I had lost myself in my fuck and didn't notice until now.
Once I was cleaned and dressed I appraised the sweaty body, still, blood smeared cunt between his hairy legs. I realized I had gotten a little on his lips when I shoved in too. He no longer made any sounds, angry or sad. He was just still, shining with sweat in the light.
I made sure all the souvenirs were in my bag and went outside. The screams had ceased, but there was some sobbing and moaning from behind the doors to Mitchell's private quarters. After a few minutes it went silent, and about ten minutes later Mr. Mitchell exited alone. He saw me waiting and walked up, "How was yours?" "Fantastic, but it sounded like you enjoyed yours too...mine heard and it made it even better when I started." He grinned, "Over the years I've learned how to maximize the effect for entering a man, and I am...blessed naturally also." I laughed, Okay Mitchell had a big cock and that guy just got it tough at the business end. He looked at my bag, "Ah, did you start a collection?" I nodded and showed him. He appraised, actually took each bag and vial out and smelled it like a rare vintage. "I knew that one would have a lot of musk," he said, "Now let's have some coffee while the final...exhibit...is set up."
I wondered what he meant, knowing it likely meant something about our two punished Latino informants. I joined him for coffee in his office. He showed me around, told me about some of the items in his collection, both books and souvenirs of conquests, and he let me gag his straight little piece under the desk with my finger and told me about the boy's past. He got many calls and emails about the business while we visited. He used some to educate me about the business, apparently it extended all over the world. He said trafficking the cattle was tough sometimes, but one from the US that spoke English always went far, and he hinted he had even moved some famous merchandise overseas. He told me about his connections and what he liked best about the business, and how he worked with and in competition with some rival businesses, but it was all mostly dignified. Apparently one rival got to a retired baseball player he wanted before Mitchell could and my friend was still sore about it. But he apparently had an actor the same rival had wanted installed in the bathroom across the hall in his quarters. I imagined a famous man made listening to what I had just heard louder and closer. Mr. Mitchell finally received a call late into the afternoon that whatever he had going on was finished and he invited me to join him downstairs.
We stepped off the elevator and the large hall looked much the same from where we were standing. But when we got around the desk where Marcus worked I noticed the raised rectangular platform had two figures on it. They were our straight Latin victims from earlier, but each was rigid beyond what I had experienced before when I fucked Alvaro. Both were in very different poses.
Francis was kneeling on his knees, a pipe extending from the platform and was shoved into his anus. His head was strapped to a pole along his back and his hands were behind it in tight thick restraints. His cock was locked in a black plastic chastity device curveing it down. I walked in front and saw he had a large urinal gag in his mouth. He was statue still, if it weren't for faint breathing sounds and eyes still swiveling I would have thought Mitchell was darker than I thought and he was stuffed. He looked pathetic, but nothing to the display next to him.
Powerful virile Alvero was on his knees also, his tongue hanging out over his full lips of an wide open mouth. He had a studded black leather dog collar around his neck with a bone shaped tag reading "Alvero," and a rubber tail extended from his powerful buttocks, from where my cock had ravaged his hole hours before. He had a leather harness around his chest above his tits which were pinched with little alligator clamps connected by a thin metal string. His pretty brown hands were pitched forward limp wristed fingers pointed toward the ground. His cock was shoved into a tight metal cage hanging between his legs. Now he was completely shaved except that goatee. He was also still, but I could see slight movement in the back of his throat since his mouth was positioned so wide open and breathing sounds came from it. The sight of this straight macho daddy brought so low made me horny again.
"This platform was always for them, there's usually a display of our top selling product, and urinal and pup slaves are hot right now." He walked up and looked at them, "They might feel lucky, but I doubt it. Usually the phrase is what...'snitches get stiches' and beyond some anal tearing they're mostly fine. He walked up to Alvero and fondled his balls, the man couldn't react his eyes just closed to attempt to hide best as he could, "Then again some pups do get fixed." He gave me a sinister smile, my cock fucking twitched, then he dropped the man's balls which swung from his still body between his legs. He held up his phone and took two pictures of the humiliated straight men reduced to a marketing display. Then thought a moment and smacked Alvaro's balls again and took video of them swinging. "Have to send proof they won't go anywhere to the cartel, this should work. And they'll spread word what we can do to those macho Latin straight sluts...they'll leak the pictures and the story of how crossing them gets a man raped and worse, to keep their population in check." I leaned towards the man I'd fucked earlier, "Your wives might even see it. Probably will." Alvaro's eyes stared, unable to react, just internally screaming trapped as a submissive pup sex toy display in his own very particular circle of hell.
I looked at the men, "Can they live like this? Is it permenant?" He glanced at them, "Nah, we can bring them in and out of it. They'll be brought out of it at the end of each day, fed, watered, evacuated, given a few hours sleep, then returned to the state with an injection. Every week they'll get new poses. Every creep and perv who visits along with all the staff will become familiar with our boys. After a few months I'll find another use for them and replace them with fresher models." Mitchell looked critically at Alvero, moved up, and pulled down on his tongue...it extended down his bearded chin. "Better. Now go and take some time in the guest house, we can get back to it tomorrow. There are an endless amount of straight studs out there to be snatched and used...get some rest. If it's after hours going forward you can call to have either of these bitches sent to you for use as long they aren't busy advertising my product."
I went back to my place and reviewed the day, it had been so hot to play with a man like that, and then to see him made into a....thing and adjusted like a mannequin...I went to my room and began masturbating to the thought. Later that night I remembered I had a priest milked near to shooting dust and gave him a break to be restrained, gagged and laid ass up for me to fuck hard, still thinking about the days events...going forward I also knew I'd have to sample Alvero again...and leave the collar on.
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