Jaxon
Cage my what?
I'm not exactly on schedule here at this point. I probably shouldn't have taken the time to get off but what the fuck, I needed to blow a load. Can't help it. Abusing and enslaving a bitch makes my balls demand release. We all answer to someone, right? haha So I didn't do the few things that needed to be done before I pack things up and blow outta this place.
I can hear the boy quietly sobbing and look at the video monitor. He’s curled up in a fetal position again, wet from my piss, and with the taste of my goo still on his tongue. That was about two hours ago. It's funny seeing that boy facing the cognitive dissonance splitting his thoughts. It's getting chilly, a front is coming through. He wants to feel warm, but the blanket I gave him is wet from piss. And wrapping up in it is wrecking havoc on his mind. Damn, I love this! Amazing what a person will do in order to survive, such as wrapping up in a wet, piss soaked old blanket that smells of cum, piss, and who knows what else. I'm happy to see that small surrender on his part. He's breaking down nicely.
Too bad I'm gonna really mind fuck the boy. I can't have a faggot reecking of piss in my vehicle. It's a long drive. I grab some zip ties, and loudly head back downstairs. I can hear him mumbling no, and this can't be happening” repeatedly. Part of the five steps of grieving, he's definitely in denial. I can't help myself, so i say loudly, “Ohh it's happening buttercup. Sit up now!” I bark. He shakes his head no. Fine, we'll do it the fun way.
This time I lay the cattle prod on his back and hit the button. He screams and twitches hard, then loses his bladder.
“Sit your ass up in a kneeling position now, slave, or I'll fry your nuts!” I say viscously, then zap his pathetic ass again. He screams again, more meekly, and begs.
“Please let me go, I promise not to tell anyone.”
Yea. That's bullshit haha. This fagot has no pride in himself or the strength to internalize the rape of his mouth. He'll run to the first person he sees. Anyone in his situation would, human nature and all. Especially a weak-minded bitch like him. He's the type that expects others to fight for him. And, in all truth, it's am fighting for him. I'm fighting for him to accept his new life. He's the one trying to stop me. Right? I can't imagine why. Free food, free room, lots of cock and cock fluids all day. Faggot heaven!
“Want another taste of the prod, fagboy? Huh?” I yell.
He quickly acquiesce to my demands and sloppy gets on his knees.
“Is that how I told you to do it, slave?” I ask as I slap him. “Present yourself properly, you worthless whore!” And kick his thighs apart. He sobs.
“Stop your crying Jaxon or I'll give a real reason to cry,you pathetic lump on a log!” He does his best to stifle his crying. I hold up the zip ties, and say, with my ‘see, I do care’ voice. Which just means I speak softly with a little whine in it. That seems to placate a fag hahaha.
“You're going to put your arms together behind your back, Jaxon, so I can secure them boy. That's to keep you from hurting yourself, slave. Now, say yes, master.”
He stutters out the words, choking back tears, as he holds his hands in front of him.
“I said behind you, dumbass!” And spit in his face. He cries. Fuck, this boy is a whinny hole. Damn. What can I do? Plenty. I grab him by his hair, drag him up roughly, and slam my booted foot into his scrotum. He doubles over in pain, and I grab his left wrist and wrench it behind him hard. He screams loudly.
“Louder, bitch. Scream louder. Maybe someone will hear you, right?”
After tightening the tie, I yank his right arm, and he tries to struggle. It's weak, more pathetic than I expected. Like I said, this boy couldn't fight his way out of a room full of kittens.
“That's it faggot, fight me like the weak whore you are!” I say with venom as I secure his wrists behind his back. Then I detached the chain connected to his collar. His ankles are shackled, but he'll have to figure out how to maneuver himself with it.
“Bath time fag, don't want a stinky hoe in my car, do I?” Then I take him in hand, by grabbing a handful of his hair on his head, and say, “Come with me, buttercup.” Then proceed to drag the boy upstairs as he struggles. He's screaming, stumbling. It's cute, but time consuming. I drop him, he slides down onto the steps of the stairs, sobbing. I look down at the faggot, and put my booted foot on top of his nuts, and crush them. He screams and yells, begging me to stop.
“I'll stop when you start cooperating, slave,” I say like I care about his feelings, as I grind down harder, he yells, and I add, “Now. Get your worthless ass up on your feet or I'll really get angry, you whiny ass slut. Now!” And I twist my toes on his abused, aching fag nuts. He screams and tries his best to stand up. Being the ever so kind southern gentleman I am, I assist him. I assist by grabbing his hair again and pull up. Damn, he just keeps screaming. If I had thought about it, I could have set things up and streamed this. Certain online, overseas clients would pay through their teeth to witness this. Of course, not all are overseas. People would be surprised to know how popular this is in the states, too. Let's face it, people get off on the misery of others. Again, just our nature. It helps them escape their own misery.
Finally, after what felt like hours, I get him up the stairs and into the kitchen. I drop him down on the floor, where he falls into a pile of whimpering patheticness. I grab a rough scrubbing brush, an old toothbrush, and some dish detergent.
“I was going to be nice Jaxon, and let you bathe in a nice, warm shower, with sweet, fragrant body washes and shampoos. Now..I'm not so inclined to be nice. I mean, you're definitely not being nice, and behaving, are you, Jaxon? And I'm a firm believer that one should give what he gets. So. You're giving me grief, I'll return it a hundred times worse! After all, it's just fair, yes slave?” I say looking down at the sniveling crybaby whore boy.
Between sobs and through his stuttering, he says, “Fair? Like you're being fair?” His voice is cracking. He's trying to put force into his voice, but he fails.
“I have been fair. I've fairly, and squarely, taken you as my slave, dumbass, now show some gratitude and do as you're told. Or I'll show you more fairness by beating you until your flesh is scarred for life. Good boys get rewards, Jaxon, bad boys get beaten. That's fair. Now stand up, or I'll crush those balls again, bitch.”
Again, taking his matted hair in my fist, I pull him up, and drag him through the back door. This house, actually owned by a friend and client of mine, has a pole set up, a small flag pole, with a chain through a pulley at the top. My friend also enjoys having fun with a fagboy. I was never actually going to let Jaxon enjoy a real shower. That's monstrous! It gives him comfort and hope. And I am not that fair, haha. Anyhoo, he has no expectation of fairness, he's a slave. The only thing a slave can expect is an unfair existence. A fag can expect discipline. That's the only entitlement a fag has, discipline. Rewards and punishments. Rewards can be any small thing that gives a fag some joy, like a piece of candy, or my cum. Punishments? That's where I shine best haha. I love correcting a slave.
I attach the chain to the boy's wrist, and start pulling on the chain. That forces his arms to go upward, while they're restrained behind him. As his wrists go upwards, tugging his arms higher, it stresses his shoulders, and forces him to bend, lowering his head. He's crying, again.. Shit, still. What a baby this fag is, sheesh.
“Ohh god this hurts, please, no more.” I slap his face, and say, “Shut up bitch. Bath time.” Then meander over to the garden hose, grabbing it, I spray ice cold water all over the boy's body…. err…I mean my property haha. More yells as the cold water hits his slightly abused frame. Damn. Hope there's no bodies buried around here, this slut is loud to wake the dead!
“Bet that feels nice, huh, slave boy,” I ask laughing. He's shivering. I grab the rough, bristles kitchen sink brush, cover it in dish soap, and start washing the boy's body. I make sure to scrub extra hard. Wanna exfoliate, right?
“Gotta get you smelling better, faggot. Sorry I didn't bring anything floral, but you don't deserve nice things yet. All you've done is cost me money and grief, and what have I gotten in return? Just a crying bitch that can't even give me a decent blow job!” I emphasize that last part by slapping his ass hard with the back side of the brush. He yells.
“If you're gonna insist on being loud, that's fine, but the next time a sound comes from your mouth, it best be a ‘thank you, master'!” I say harshly as I land two more slaps. He yells, and no gratitude from the pathetic slave…
Some boys just don't learn the easy way, I think, as I pummel his ass cheeks.
“Say thank you, master!” I yell at his face and emphasize by hitting his shriveled clitty and balls several times. He screams, and mutters out, “Th.. th.. th…thank y…y..you mmmmm mm master.” He's shivering, shaking, his knees are wobbly. He's losing this battle. He's figuring that out, too.
“Please Master, I'm cold, please take me inside.” He begs.
“We're not done faggot,” i reply as I finish washing him. Then, just because I'm feeling generous, I grab the old toothbrush, put dish detergent on it, and pinching his nose, he opens up his mouth and start brushing his teeth. Now he's really desperate to get away from me. Can't imagine why.
Slapping his face with extreme force, I say, “Hold still dimwit! Don't want you getting cavities, do I? Think Ima pay for a dentist? Ha!” After another minute or two of torturing the boy's mouth, I pick up the hose and spray into mouth after saying, “Hold your breath dumbfuck. Time to rinse and spit.”
And I just can't help myself, laughing as I spray water into his mouth, then stop, and he's hanging there, sputtering. I hold up the kitchen brush, and say, “What do you say, slave?”
Whimpering, he says “Thank you, Master,” and I can definitely hear resignation and shame in his voice. Good.
“You're welcome dumbfuck,” I say, as I add more detergent, smile, then scrub his ass hole. He really yells again. What sweet music.
“Gotta clean your cock hole, huh, cumdump?” I say as I shove a couple soapy fingers i to his…virgin!...boy pussy. Nice. I'll enjoy taking this cherry, woo hoo. “What a sweet pussy you have, slut. Soo tight. Nice.” He moans. Bam! The faggot likes this, for sure. But I can't have him getting hard, just yet, so I slap his ass hard again, then scrub his hole more. He screams as his body sags. He's wrecked mentally, and physically. He's breaking. He's realizing he can't fight me, mainly because deep down inside, this boy wants this more than freedom and liberty itself.
I look at the boy. I admire his soft, feminine lines. Girlish hips, a girlish looking ass that's meant to be fucked. So pretty. I'll have to come up with a cute trampoline stamp for this hoe, something to really make a man feel entitled to treat him as a worthless cumdump. He's shaking, and his penis has shrunk up real good. Next step, coming right up.
I reach into my pocket, and pull out a chastity cage. It's metallic, of course. We're talking permanently locking this fag up, so metal is best, in my opinion. Besides, it looks medieval, and sadistic.
“You are not ever going to play with your pathetic boy penis again jaxon,” I intone as I deftly, and quite professionally, if I say so myself, put the chastity device on the boy. His clitty us squeezed into a cage that barely allows the once proud boy's penis anything more than about a 1 and a quarter centimeters in depth. I've practically reduced the boy's cock to a caged nub that takes less space than his nipples. And he just stares at it, crying more. Damn. That's it. I grab a penis gag from my back pocket and shove it into his mouth and strap it on tight, I mean, very tight. I can see the discomfort in his face. I smile, and simply say…
“Welcome to the life you were born for, Jaxon. A cumdump whore and slave!”
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