Jaxson
After a three hour drive to a secluded Airbnb I rented, with a basement, I carry sleeping beauty into the house. Its after 1 am now. I threw the boy's out the window 2 and half hours ago. Drove over a bridge crossing a small river, and tossed it out the passenger window and over the railing. Down it went into the water, and gone. No way to track the boy now. As for him needing a phone, nope, never again. No access to one, or the internet. Those are for free men and women, not for fagboy slaves. If they aren't working their holes for my gain, then they're doing chores around the house and grounds. I hired a black guy to run my security. He did a stint at Blackwater, a state prison for assault and involuntary manslaughter. Really shouldn't have been charged, some guys disrespected him, then really made the dumbest mistake possible, sexually assaulted his wife in front of him while using racial slurs. He put one through a window and broke his neck in the process. I hired him once he was off parole, and put him and his wife in a nice cottage on my property, and told him to hire 10 good, dependable, trustworthy guys that wouldn't mind making money from a sadistic pimp. Lol. He didn't let me down. So, the fags can't run away, security will catch one before he gets 200 feet off my property, and they make sure I get informed so I can punish the faggot. People say good help.is hard to find. Not true. It's easy to find if you pay well. I definitely pay well.
I bring my new acquisition inside, and lay him on the floor in the basement, and get my duffle bag. My green duffle bag. Its a kink orientated bag, one I use to start the process of enslavement. I cut off the boy's shirt, and put a collar on him, and locked the collar on with a pad lock, so it can't be removed. It's what is commonly referred to as a “posture collar”. It holds the head up so the boy can't lower his head. He's forced to keep his eyes looking forward, and turning his head is difficult now too. Its a good mind fucking device when taking over a boy's mind. Then I attach a chain to the collar, and lock it on, the chain attached to a metal pole supporting the floor above. He's not breaking free. Not like the faggot is super man, haha. I continue with my preparations, ending by putting metal shackles on his ankles and chain them together. There. No he can't go anywhere without begging me.
As I remove his shoes and socks, i notice his manicured toe nails, no surprise there. Bet this bitch and his girlfriend had fun doing each other's nails. Somehow, I doubt he was railing her until she couldn't walk for a week. Besides, I have already rubbed and squeezed his crotch. I've felt bigger packages on mosquitoes. I'll definitely be locking this slut up in chastity. He's in for a hell of a night. Let's get this rodeo started!
I inject a shot to counteract the sleepy stuff, then as he starts to come around, I throw a bucket of ice cold water on the boy. He screams, trying to get up, and it is comical. He's fumbling around, and slowly realizing that he has been restrained. He starts screaming.
“Stop that boy!” I say in a loud, authoritarian voice, “Or I'll be forced to gag you with a very uncomfortable and extremely large object.”
He looks at me with pure fear in eyes. I drink it in, and it tastes better than anything in creation. Fuck, I live for these moments. Thankfully, I had set my camera up and was recording this. Somethings need to be immortalized for prosperity.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He demands, “Let me go and you won't get in trouble!” He says loudly.
I look at him, then back hand his face, not to hard, but definitely enough to sting hard. He falls to the floor, crying.
“Why? What did I do? God, please let me go,” he says feebly, as he tries to sit up, then starts realizing exactly how much he is restrained and his hands instantly go to his neck, and feels the collar, shock becoming visible on his face. He starts screaming again, and struggling. This is an important moment in his enslavement. As long as I'm in his presence at this junction, he has hope I'll let him go. Therefore, I have to take away that hope and replace it with resignation and acceptance of his new life. Looking at him, I slap his face again, and say, “What a pathetic waste of life you are, Jaxson. I'm doing the world a favor by removing you from it.” Then, I turn and walk away, going upstairs, slamming the door, and as loudly as I can make it, I lock it, and turn off the lights down there. His screams are muffled, yet they add nice music for me to enjoy as I make myself a nice, extremely late dinner.
I heat a cast iron skillet, throw a nice steak in it with copious amounts of butter, and seasonings. It smells good. And I know the smells are making their way to my guest downstairs. I know the faggt is hungry. I can hear the boy crying, pleading for freedom. Funny. That's exactly what I am giving him, freedom. Freedom from making decisions, freedom from choices, freedom from the daily struggles most people face. He'll be free to live his life serving men. Little faggot should be grateful!
I eat my dinner, and because I'm a very caring individual, I put some scraps and half chewed grisly pieces of the steak in a dog bowl, throw a handful of cold, soggy fries on top, and grab a warm bottled water. Placing the items on a tray and covering it with a dirty hand towel, I pick up a favorite paddle of mine that is great for inflicting seriously painful impacts to a boy's ass. It has raised metal spikes on it. They're only about an eighth of an inch tall, rounded slightly but still pointed enough to be felt and feel like hundred millions needles hitting your flesh, hehe. Yea, it can wreck a boy's day, that's for sure.
Or, if we're honest, haha, it can also make a boy's day perfect! It just depends on the boy and the circumstances, and who is in control. As for Jaxson, he's experiencing both at the same time. He'll think this is the worst day ever in the history of bad days. However, it'll be the most important and best day in his faggot world, because he's being gifted with freedom. He'll understand this eventually. I put the paddle in the waist band of my pants at the small of my back, and cover it with my shirt. Fun time!
I'm excessively noisy in unlocking the door and walking down the steps. When he's in my view, he's curled up on the floor in a fetal position, softly sobbing. Scared little thing. Good. Makes him weaker mentally.
“Hungry, boy?” I ask.
“P..p..p…lesse let me go sir…puhhhlease,” he says between weak sobs. He's already breaking. I knew this faggot was truly pathetic, but he might be one the most pathetic fags in creation.
“Sit, boy!” I say harshly. And kick him on his ass hard.
“Get up now, boy, or you'll go hungry. I can care less, Jaxon, my belly is full.” I said, and kick him on his ass again, and scream, “Now bitch! Or you'll regret it, boy!”
He starts crying. Mumbling such nonsense as being murdered and never found, how he doesn't wanna die, and please let me go. It's pretty normal shit for boys to say in his place. I've heard it all. Didn't care then, don't care now.
Damn, this boy is totally unable to even try to act like he's anything remotely related to a man, much less a human. I don't have time for this cybaby crap, gotta get him ready to go to his forever home. Besides, I wanna sleep in my own bed with my personal cum slut, Daymein.
I grab the boy by his hair, and pull him up, and look him in the eyes, and say, “I'm not going to kill you dumbass. I own you now, boy. You're a cumdump faggot, Jaxon, and I'm going to make lots if money selling your ass, everyday, for the next 15 years, 20 if you're lucky. If not, ohh well.”
I spit on his face, then spit into his food bowl, and continue, “I suggest you eat faggot, or you'll go hungry, understand, you dumb slut?”
“Fuck you dude!” He screams. Such disrespect and ungratefulness from this bitch. Ohh well, like I said, fun time.
I grabbed the tray of food I put down on an old dining table style chair, and threw it in the corner, smashing it onto the wall.
“What an inconsiderate faggot you are, Jaxon. Here I am, the man of your dreams offering you the life of your dreams, treating you like a proper fagbot. Hell, I even brought you food, and what do I get in return?”
I look at him and he's trembling, but damn, I think the bitch is getting a hard on. I love it. I knew he's a pathetic faggot. I grab him by his head of hair again, tossing him onto his belly, across the chair. And hold him there roughly. I pull the paddle out and slap his ass hard. Full force swing, and even though he's wearing slacks, I know the impacts are being felt. It's probably the first time he's even been spanked.
“You are mine, faggot!” I say loudly, followed by three impacts with the paddle. He tries struggling, flailing his arms, and grab one, twisting it some as my foot holds him securely to the chair, ass up.
“I own you, faggot!” Whack! Whack! Whack!
“You are nothing but property, faggot!” Whack, whack! Whack, whack, whack!
“A slave!” Whack, whack.
“My slave!” Whack, whack, whack! Whack!
“My faggot slave, Jaxon!” Whack! Whack! Whack, whack, whack! Whack!
The boy's a slobbering mess. His face is smeared with tears and dirt from the floor. He looks like a street urchin. He's pissed his pants, he's hard too. I let him fall to the floor, where he crumbles into a pathetic, whimpering pile of a slave learning the cold, hard facts of its life. I kneel on a knee next to him. Then say in a soft tone, “Don't believe me Jaxon?” I reach down and grab his little package through the slacks, “Then why are you hard, faggot?”
The boy moans, and sobs quietly. He is slowly losing the battle in his head. I need to go further, I need to irrevocably break him now. This is the moment, the right time and right place in his miserable life, where he has been trying to be something he isn't, living a lie really. I quickly grab something from my back, then I pull him up onto his knees, saying, “You must be a hungry slave.” I grab his hair and pull him over to spot where the tray landed.
“Eat that food, Jaxon, or you're going to suffer horribly, faggot.” And for emphasis, I put a cattle prod squarely in his sight and push the button.
The bluish, white arc of electrical power is a brilliant power play. The zapping, and the crackling noises echo in the basement and in the boy's ears. The smell of ozone is titillating. He looks at me dumbfounded.
“Now, slave boy,” I say, with anger as I push the tip of the prod towards his abdomen, as I press the button again. He's not as dumb as he looks, or his submissive nature is kicking into full speed, either one, doesn't matter the reason, he starts picking up the food and eating it, albeit, with fresh tears running down his face. I smile at him, and say those magical words all faggots crave to hear..
“Good boy.”
He visibly relaxes some. Good. He's coming around. As he eats the food here looks up me, and I bark out, “Eyes down faggot. You don't have the right to look at me right now. You made me get angry, and now your eating dirty food off the floor. Keep you fucking eyes on that filthy floor and food, slave boy, and remember, you're eating dirty food because you're a stupid bitch!”
And whack! Whack!
He yells. I hit his ass again, saying, “Shut the fuck up you dirt eating whore!” I landed two impacts on the boy's ass. He chokes back sobs. His whole body is shaking.
“That's it, fagboy, eat it all, you dirty little slut.” He isn't little by any means, standing almost 6’1” (185 cm), and probably weighed 125 pounds (57 K) when wet. Tall, thin, lanky, with girlie hips and ass, and his fem facial features. Yea, he's gonna be pretty all dolled up. Use a vacuum pump and breast cup, he'll develop some perky fagboy boots. Guys loving playing with fag's breast. Always a fun way to make one tear up.
“That's a good boy. Good boys get rewards. Bad boys get beatings, remember that, faggot,” I say as he finishes up the lest dregs of his meal. Ge reaches for the water, then hesitates, looking up for…permission, maybe.
“What do you want, slave boy?”
“Water,” he says meekly.
“Try again, bitch!” I say with a growl, holding up the paddle.
“M..m..maybe I have some water, sir?”
I simply nod, and he reaches for the bottle, and starts drinking it greedily. He quickly hammers down almost half before I snag it from him and looking down at the miserable boy as his world is quickly crashing and burning around him, I dump the water on his head, as I say, “Enough for now, dumbass. Get some sleep, Jaxon. You have a long day tomorrow, boy. Your training will officially start.”
I turn and walk away, going upstairs as he starts pleading to be released, saying he's cold. Begging me to stay. His mind is crumbling, he even called me daddy, hahaha. Daddy. Good one. Such a faggot. As I near the top of the steps, I grab a blanket I put there early, one that smells of my piss and cum, sweat. I throw it down to him, smiling, I say, “Sweet dreams, Jaxon, welcome to the life of a fag enslavement, slave boy!” Then I slam the door closed, lock it, and off go the lights in the small world where my new hoe lives currently.
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