Nub understands now that free, normal men have dicks and beta boys do not. That's after all the very reason why he finds himself enslaved.
He must be grateful that he serves two normal dicks. His sexuality is self -defined as straight, but he understands that this is irrelevant. He has no choice or control of how he lives. His owners' dicks are the temple of his idolatry. Any prospect of sexuality is focused on pleasing his owners. Real men with real dicks.
I do love to converse with Nub, even if our conversations are rather one sided. On command he kneels naked on the floor before me - hands behind his head - as I rest my socked feet on his thighs. As I idle away my feet against his full and blue balls, I love to taunt his lack of manhood. The dichotomy between his powerful muscles and his lack of manhood is a source of great horniness for me. I often make him describe how it feels to be denied even an erection. Forcing him to verbalise his inferiority.
I take great glee in reminding him regularly that straight boys need to fuck women. But as a dickless boy, he cannot and will not ever experience this. I have even offered to bring him a female friend of mine to try his luck. To see how he performs. I love to see his misty eyes as he shakes his head in defeat. It's then that I remind him gently - holding his gaze intently - that he's my girl. And it's his hole that will be ploughed by my dick. He's learnt to thank me most sincerely at this point in our conversation. For taking away the abomination between his legs and making him a hole instead. He avoids the heavy spanking wherever possible.
Finally he holds his eyes on my cock as I play with myself. I wonder what goes through his mind as he watches my cock erect. Seeing the unfathomable difference in size allied to the fact that I can cum whenever I choose.
Sometimes I shoot over his face, sometimes his cage and at other times down his open throat. The result is the same. All of my seed is eaten with a smile of thankfulness that must appear genuine.
It would have been possible for me to change his sexuality. To make him gay through altering his mind. But I didn't want that. It's much better for him to live in shame and humiliation as he services us. It makes the contrast much more interesting. So every service makes him appalled, even though he obeys unfalteringly and must show his appreciation at all times for becoming our cuckold boy.
Nub serves us in complete submission every day. In every way. Sexually, domestically and completely. With every fibre of his being.
We take his salary and freedom in exchange for allowing him to serve in is true place. He must prioritise his obedience and submission at all times.
At home he lives stark naked. His only apparel is his thin silver collar around his neck and his matching silver flat cage to keep his nub removed.
He has no privacy. Clothes are removed at the front door always. We have informed him to expect his new tattoo in a few months. A black stencil where his pubes should be proclaiming him "Zero Inch". Just another abomination to endure.
() ()
I stretch and turn to Bryan. "Come on, let's get up."
We pull on our trackie bottoms and white socks and smirk at each other wordlessly. It's the same routine every morning but my 7 inch dick twitches in anticipation knowing what awaits us downstairs in the living room.
It's Sunday. Day of rest for free men and we chat idly as we descend the staircase and sink into the comfy settee. For the first time I glance into the corner of the large room and lick my lips at the straight boy on full display.
At first glance you'd think he was some sort of muscle guy working out. Until you noticed the craziness of his predicament. Standing on top of a specifically designed stone plinth, our Greek statue poses in position stark naked in the corner of the room. One leg arched forward on tiptoe. One arm behind his back to push his chest out. Stomach iron flat displaying his musculator and his pecs pumped. He stares ahead still. He never breaks pose these days having learnt the punishment of disappointing his owners. The only difference from statues of old is the complete lack of penis. His dick shut away in its permanent position. I smile at the total control I hold over my slave object. In position for as long as I wish. I imagine the horror of holding such a pose every day.
He's not cum now for over 5 months. I let him cum on his birthday. Naked on the plinth as he is now, jerking his tiny tool on display for Bryan and I. Since then it's only been out of the cage once a month for cleaning and of course his hands are cuffed behind him as we soap it clean. His eyes blindfolded so he never gets to see the tiny nub that sentences him to total slavery as I soap up his nub before pushing it back away out of sight as an abomination. I enjoyed watching him cum for us but maybe once a year is too generous.
We switch on the TV and lounge around for a while. Our Sunday morning comfort in sharp contrast to the strain of the ignored statue on display.
Eventually I can hold it no longer though and reluctantly click my fingers. Wordlessly the slave dismounts and takes his kneeling position between my legs. I nod and he reaches forward. Carefully, reverently, he takes out my semi hard dick and wraps his lips around it with care and gentle pressure. I look down at his face. He must always maintain eye contact when he in any way worships our dicks. I watch the humiliated sadness in his eyes as he gulps down my morning piss.
As he returns my cock inside my trousers I smirk. If only he knew the plans I have for him when I open my new clinic in Amsterdam this summer. That will mean a permanent move for us all and a new job for Nub working in my clinic. His "Zero Inch" tattoo will be quite the topic of conversation I am sure with my new clients.
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