The enslavement of ding-dong

This was a square room with one door and no windows. There were no furnishings in the room. There was only a fixture in the middle of the ceiling that looked like a large motorized ceiling fan, except that it descended into the room from above farther than a typical ceiling fan would. The large central motorized turret of the fan was suspended only about four feet above the floor. If it were a ceiling fan, then it could easily hit you in the face or upper body with its spinning fan blades at that level. Anyway, it didn’t have any fan blades. It had just one long horizontal pole attached to it. Sanjay was curious about a digital timer with big red LED numbers, which was mounted on the end of the pole. The pole also had a counterweight on its other end to balance the weight of the large LED timer. The timer reads 15:00.

Darius unbuckles the belts across the slave’s chest and stomach. He unlocks the stock on the right that restrains Sanjay’s right hand.

“Put out your hand,” he says.

Darius puts a handcuff onto Sanjay’s right hand, then instructs him to put the cuffed hand behind his back. He goes behind and to the other side to unlock the left hand, which he instructs the slave to also put behind his back. He tells the slave to lock the other handcuff on to bind his own wrists together behind his back. Sanjay is still held sitting immobile at the neck, hips, and ankles; so, he can’t do much other than comply. He fumbles with locking his own handcuffs behind him while Darius waits patiently.

“Good ding-dong,” he says when Sanjay locks himself.

Darius has a set of cords and fastenings that look like reins for a horse. There are five leads. He removes the nasal inhaler off Sanjay’s face so that he can insert the first of these fastenings up Sanjay’s nose clipped to his nose septum. He clips another two leads to each of Sanjay’s big brown nipples. The fourth and fifth leads are clamped onto Sanjay’s right and left testicles. Each of one of these five fastenings individually grips tightly onto a very sensitive part of Sanjay’s body and is its own little world of pain.

Sanjay was just riding along in the chair taking a tour of the new room to this point, totally unprepared for this – clip, clip, clip, clip, clip!

Sanjay starts to make a pained bellowing cow sound out his nose and starts breathing fast and hard, nostrils flaring around the big clamp in his nose. He is squirming in the chair to shake the other clamps off his tits and balls. His master has the slack reins looped around his forearm and casually held in one hand.

“Stop squirming,” he says, but the slave is being dramatic again; so, he yanks on the reins to reset its idea of unbearable. Sanjay tried to jump out of the chair unsuccessfully and howled into his ball gag when his nuts, tits and nose septum were all simultaneously yanked.

“I’m not going to rub your head and kiss it better today, slave. You sit your ass still and shut the fuck up.”

He waits until Sanjay masters himself and becomes still except for his chest heaving and sucking air. Darius takes hold of the long pole with the digital display on the end and swings it across the room in a semicircular arc so that the display end of the pole is suspended in the air in front of Sanjay’s high chair. He proceeds to tie the reins to the end of the pole as if he were hitching a horse to a post.

“Slave, I’m going to release you from your chair now to stand up, and you are going to behave and do exactly what I tell you. Or, I will yank these leads until your nose is bloody and you’ll wish your tits and balls would fall off.”

He removed the bar at Sanjay’s hips, then opened the stocks at Sanjay’s feet, and finally unlocked the neck stock that had been holding Sanjay’s head fixed for days. Darius reached around and hooked his own forearms under Sanjay’s upper arms to support him standing up and stepping down off the high chair. Sanjay stood on the floor uncertainly, hurting and trying not to move. Far from defiant, he had a lost look about him. He had resolved in the morning to do any degrading thing if it would buy him favors, but he had no idea what to do now.

But the decision was made for him. What does the slave need to know? His master moved across the room to a dimmer switch on the wall such as would be used to turn on a ceiling fan and moderate its speed. He turned on the ceiling fan that was not a ceiling fan. The long pole began to rotate clockwise around the room. The pathetic ding-dong stood there looking at it stupefied right up until where the reins all went taught together, and the pole started pulling him forward in a circular arc around the room.

Sanjay’s tits, balls, and nose septum all understood the problem before he did, and the alarmed wincing slave jerked forward with a horrified shriek as it found itself forced to start trotting around the room following the rotating pole. And, as Sanjay began to move with a strong imperative to maintain the slack in the reins, his penis bells began to ring again.

Darius explained it to the ding-dong. 

“Can you hear me, ding-dong?

“nguh!”

“I like to call this my WHEEL of PAIN. This where you get to work off your demerits for being a disobedient ding-dong. I know you feel guilty about being a bad ding-dong, and this is how you can make amends to me and make me feel better about it. You want to, don’t you?”

“nguh”

“Pause in your trotting around, and squat, and pump your hips to ring your slave-penis to answer me, ding-dong. I already told you that before.”

Sanjay ran forward to put lots of slack in his reins, then stopped, squatted, pumped his hips to ring his penis bells, then ran forward again just in time before the reins went taught. Darius thereby realized that he could increase the speed of the rotating pole. He turned the dimmer switch up a bit.

It wasn’t only the reins that Sanjay had to worry about. As he began to trot faster around, his penis bells were ringing between his legs now all the time. The walnut-sized sleigh bells and hazelnut sized bells behind them were rhythmically yanking on his very sensitive cockhead and very sensitive foreskin with every step around. He still was very sore and not completely healed. Also, his belly was full and distended from chugging down an entire four liter bottle of piss-water less than an hour ago. It was so uncomfortable to jog and squat with his stomach so bloated.

Darius said, “I wasn’t going to start punishing you so soon, ding-dong. I was concerned about you. I thought you needed time to adjust to things and to heal from your piercings. I bought your act yesterday when you seemed to be in such pain from ringing your bells. But this morning, when I saw that you were so frisky down there that you actually tried to get our slave-penis hard and succeeded, I realized I was being played. You’re not really in that much pain. You’re just a fucking pussy faggot drama queen, aren’t you? pussy faggot pussy faggot pussy faggot.”

Sanjay had to again race forward up to the bar, stop, squat, and pump his hips to answer “yes.” This time the reins caught up to him. His balls, tits, and nose were all yanked forward before he could race forward back to the bar. He stumbled and shrieked and yanked himself again before he got back on pace. His tits, balls and nose were all screaming on fire. And, he felt like he was being smacked on the head of his penis with a fly swatter every step. Darius had found a good speed.  

“Now that you’ve warmed up, we can begin. I want to explain to you how this works. There is big LED display right in front of your face on the end of the pole. Ding-dong, do you see that big LED display right in front of your face there?”

Sanjay again had to race to the bar, stop, squat, pump his hips, all knowing full well that we would be yanked painfully forward anyway faster than he could complete answering. He abandoned all efforts to control his reaction to the vicious clamps yanking his most sensitive areas again and again. He made more plaintive hurt cow sounds through his nose and throat.

“So, the display reads 15. I’m sure you are wondering about that. Tell me, ding-dong, how many demerits are on your ding-dong disobedience board currently?”

Sanjay knew there were twelve, so he thought to maybe grunt twelve times. He started grunting to his master, but as he came around in a circular arc toward him grunting, Darius picked up a cane switch and whacked him with it across his right thigh and buttock leaving a mark. Sanjay tried to swerve away desperately from the switch and stopped grunting.

“I know you know better than that.”

He was being led on the pole in a circular arc around back again to where his master was still waiting with switch in hand.

Sanjay thought, “He can’t be waiting for me to…”

But he was. His master whacked him across both ass cheeks to make another mark on his second pass around. Sanjay had to stop, squat, and ring his bell twelve times, yanking his reins every time just to answer this simple question.

“Good slave. I’m glad you studied your board. So, this is your punishment wheel, and you have twelve demerits that you need punishing for, right?”

Sanjay knew he had to answer again, but he started trying to stretch out the time before answering. Darius whacked him with the cane again, this time on the backs of his legs above the knees.

“I expect my ding-dong to respond to simple questions immediately. You are trying to control this and delay punishment. I want to see you rushing to answer me because you know that you totally deserve as much punishment as you can ever get, and you can hardly wait to have more.”

Sanjay thought “No fucking way!” He couldn’t imagine demanding something so extreme, but he now rushed to respond and yanked himself around again pitifully. He also started to piss himself now. It squirted out of his drain spout all over his legs and feet, but he had to just keep jogging in a circle as he pissed. His footprints started tracking his piss around on the floor.

“So, it would make sense if there was a 12 on the LED display of your punishment wheel, wouldn’t it slave?”

Sanjay miserably rushed to squat, to answer yes, to deliberately hurt himself again to amuse his master. He had some very limited choice about how to do this. He could either squat leaning far forward on his toes with his hips far back and take the main jolt of it yanking his nuts out of his scrotum, or he could balance on his heels, puff his chest out and raise his head high to take it more in his tits and nose. But, the second way made him slower dashing forward to the bar again so that the yanking felt more severe.

“Good slave. Watch what I do now.”

As the pole came around and Sanjay jogged by, Darius started a count-down on the LED display. It changed to 14:59, 14:58, 14:57, etc.

“This is the amount of time you will spend going around on the WHEEL of PAIN to work off your demerits. In general, I will require one hour on the punishment wheel for each act of disobedience. But, I have full discretion about that. I told you yesterday that you aren’t allowed to self-pleasure or play with yourself. I already had given you a demerit for humming in the slave closet. So, you certainly knew that I wouldn’t want you sitting there in the closet this morning goofing off and trying to get your slave-penis hard. You totally knew that, but you thought it was your private little moment to yourself alone, and I’d never know. I already told you that you’re never alone, and you have no private moments. You did it anyway. You made your dick hard, and it caused your alarm to go off. Your alarm woke me up from my sleep, and I got up and responded to it because I was concerned about you and for your safety in there. I care very much about you. I want you to be well. I went and looked. You’re were perfectly fine.

You’re only problem is you’re a selfish spoiled little bitch who pleasures himself at other people’s expense. You sat in there wasting time dreamily staring off into space fantasizing for almost a whole hour when you should have been studying your board, and then you woke me up early, all just so you could play with yourself. And, you’re a sneaky little turd for trying to get away with it. You have a bad, bad attitude slave.”

“So for all those reasons, I doubled your penalties for waking me, trying to play with yourself, and ignoring your ding-dong board. That makes 15 hours. Now obviously, you won’t be able to work all of that off today, and I certainly won’t stand here watching you work it off all day. But you are at least starting to work on it now. And, you should be grateful for that.”

Sanjay realized here he needed to immediately squat, pump his hips twice fast, get yanked forward again, then squat and pump hips twice fast again, and get yanked forward even more violently, because he hadn’t had time to catch up to the bar before starting the second set.    

“There’s my ding-dong!” said Darius.

Darius turned the cane around and playfully poked Sanjay with the handle end as he came around the circle.

“And, the other thing is, I want you to prance.”

Darius came around outside of Sanjay’s circle.  He held his cane out horizontal in front of and above Sanjay’s knees. He now forced Sanjay to prance with his knees coming up high. He was told he wasn’t prancing high enough if his knees didn’t touch the cane. Darius then watched and followed. He whipped Sanjay if his knees started coming down. Prancing caused Sanjay’s slave-penis to bounce between his legs more dramatically, and his bells chimed louder.

“Really get your slave-penis bouncing at full amplitude and ringing loudly, slave. I enjoy that. Also, I want you to put a small skip in your step and pause briefly at the high point of your knee with your toe pointed down underneath. And, I want you to arch your back and stick your chest out more.”

These added instructions all made it harder for Sanjay to maintain pace and keep up with the bar. It also felt and looked ridiculous. Sanjay went around and around on the WHEEL of PAIN prancing and being whipped as soon he broke form.

“Look at you prancing around the room like a gay pony!  Are you my gay pony?"

Sanjay pranced to the bar, squatted, pumped his hips, was yanked forward again stumbling forward. His master followed and whipped his butt until he got back into form.

“Are you my little faggot pony?”

It really, truly no-shit, was a wheel of pain. He was sweating profusely, and there was a continuous trail of piss and sweat coming off him tracking on the floor. He wheezed through his nostrils struggling to suck air fast enough. He felt like his chest could explode. It was all pain from every angle. Pain from whipping, pain from straining tired leg muscles, pain in his jangling penis, pain in his nipples, pain in his balls, and despair.

“Yeah, you are. You are. You are my little bitch faggot pony. bitch faggot pony. bitch faggot pony.”

Darius was trotting beside Sanjay outside the circle, goading and taunting him and whipping him at regular intervals. He turned his whip around, handle-end first, and started rubbing the handle up and down in the crack between Sanjay’s buttocks as he continued to run around.

“Get those fuckin’ knees up and you prance for me, you bitch faggot pony… Uhhff! Oh god. Oh…”

Sanjay was suddenly alone in the circle. He ran around the circle again and saw that his master was still there, but he was sitting down on the seat of his high chair. Sanjay’s legs and thighs were burning, but he didn’t dare stop prancing as the pole kept pulling him around. The room was completely silent for a while except for the ringing of his penis bells and the patter of his feet on the floor.

Darius had suddenly felt a need to sit down. He had gotten so painfully hard that he thought he might cum in his pants. He had gotten carried away, and the moment overtook him. He didn’t feel entirely good. He felt a little sick. What was wrong here? Yesterday had been great, hadn’t it? And, this is fun, punishing and scaring the slave so badly it pissed the floor. He was not really angry with the slave. His unease was not the slave’s fault.

He started to think he was getting into something more than he could handle. When he had committed all that time and planning to stalk the boy, to kidnap him, and then to transport him long distance here, it was a lot of work to pull off. He had in mind unrealistically that when he got the boy here – when he enslaved him— it would be all fun after that. But, now he is looking at the reality of it. This is going to be a lot of work. This slave is going to need a lot of punishment. This is fun for an hour, but will it be fun for fourteen more after that, and probably more added on soon?

Darius thinks, “I’ve got a full-time job. I can’t sit here every day whipping the slave around on its punishment wheel. And, the thing with the piss-water? I can’t piss fast enough to make all these jugs of piss-water every day! How am I ever going to keep up with that? What have I gotten myself into?”

Darius watches in a detached manner as the slave continues prancing around the punishment wheel to perform for him. He sees it tracking his eyes looking for some type of acknowledgment. He understands it probably wants to see he is satisfied with it and have some hope the punishment will stop soon. He doesn’t blame it for wanting that, but he doesn’t want to engage right now. He sees where this is going. He’s taken the slave, stripped it, denuded it, renamed it, deprived it of voice or cock, locked it in a tiny closet where it can only hear his voice. He is making it dependent on him for everything, which initially sounds great and makes his dick hard. But, it’s going to be so much work!

Darius thought, “Is there really anything to this master-slave thing? Or, am I screwing up my life just to get my dick hard?”

Darius decided to be lenient on the slave’s first go-around. He turned off the dimmer switch and paused the clock when Sanjay had completed only two hours of punishment time, and he even let it jog like a normal person for the last hour, because it didn’t have the physical endurance to continue prancing for him.

He led his trembling exhausted captive back toward its high chair and pointed. It tried to get his approval by squatting and ringing its penis “thank you,” and it put its own neck in the stock, but he ignored it and locked it in. He unclipped its nose, tits, and balls. It hurt the slave just to have those removed; so, it grimaced and hyperventilated, but it wasn’t too overly dramatic about it now. He wheeled it out into the hallway, because he needed to get the mop to wipe all its piss and sweat off the floor.

When he was finished cleaning up, he locked the door to the WHEEL of PAIN. The slave was still parked in the hallway. Darius thought that the slave looked a little crazy in the face, but it was behaving itself. The slave smelled though. The combination of fear, pain, sweaty exertion, and long confinement had made it over-ripe with an intensified body odor.

Darius thought, “Oh great! Another chore for master to do on his day off.”

He wheeled the slave into the downstairs bathroom and into a shower stall. He adjusted the water and tested it on his forearm before aiming it into Sanjay’s chest. He took off his own clothes and got naked into the shower with the slave so he could lather up the slave’s body with a sponge. We worked the sponge into the slave’s armpits and got around behind the slave’s back also. He popped out an insert in the seat from underneath to expose its ass from below to clean it. He also lathered its slave penis and gently washed its sore balls. He took off the noise cancelling headphones and the inhaler so that he could scrub its bald head and face.

“Close your eyes, ding-dong. I don’t want to get soap in them.”

He probed up the slave’s nose with a finger and satisfied himself there was no bleeding, but the nose was just very sore and swollen. He scrubbed its head vigorously and then put some lotion on its scalp because there was some dryness and flaking of skin since when he’d shaved it. He preferred that its head should be shiny and gleaming with no flakes.

He removed its collar and shaved off neck hairs and stubble that were growing in underneath. He washed its feet and legs. It had a lot of red stripes on its legs and certainly more on its ass where it was now sitting. He gave it permission to piss in the shower stall. He gently washed its tits, which had purple bruises around them and red bite marks from the clamps.

Notwithstanding their bruised soreness, he got a compulsion to squeeze and milk the tits in a particular pattern and did so. This caused the slave some discomfort, but it stayed well behaved. He whooted and got into another fit of shrugging and blinking tics while doing this, which lasted about ten minutes. The slave was watching his odd ticcing behaviors, had seen them come on before, and probably still wondered about them.

Darius’ cock got hard again while squeezing the slave’s nipples, and Darius realized that his balls were aching, and he really wanted to cum. Sanjay saw this too. He had never seen his master’s hard cock before. He eyed it warily. But, the most threatening thing Darius did with it was to incidentally brush against the slave while fluffing him dry with the bath towel. Darius even got down on the floor and clipped the slave’s toenails, because he didn’t like how long they were. 

He removed Sanjay’s ball gag and shaved his face while Sanjay obediently held his mouth open as if the ball was still there. He toothbrushed Sanjay’s mouth with toothpaste, and made him spit the toothpaste out into his hand afterwards. When finished, he buckled the gag back on and put the collar, nose inhaler and headphones all back onto his slave’s face. He sniffed ding-dong’s armpit to convince himself the slave didn’t stink too bad anymore.

“nguh-guh nguh-guh!”

Darius wheeled the slave out of the bathroom and down the hall toward its closet and heard it attempt again to engage him, but he continued to withdraw from interaction with it. He locked it in storage and left.

Left alone in the closet, Sanjay was freaking out about so much of what just happened. That punishment wheel was … the guy was all over him, whipping him, and taunting him, calling him a selfish bitch, calling him a faggot pony! Then suddenly, he goes silent for like … hours … looking at him. What was that?

Sanjay was left alone again in the storage closet again for some hours, and he knew he had to keep making a show now of intently studying his demerit board to not get in more trouble; so, he scanned his eyes left and right, but he was mainly thinking about what happened.

He didn’t understand. He was embarrassed about pissing himself; so, he thought maybe his master was not talking to him anymore because he was angry about that. The silent treatment really bothered him. He became convinced that he was in for even more punishment now, because he pissed himself on the WHEEL of PAIN.

Sanjay thought to himself, “What kind of new punishment is he constructing now to super-punish me for pissing on my punishment wheel?”

Sanjay hurt all over, and his whipped ass, which he was sitting on – locked in a high chair seat, particularly hurt him. And, the elapsed time was only a small dent in his total time to work off. Looking at his ding-dong whiteboard, he saw blank space that would surely be filled with more demerits meanwhile. There would be no end to the punishment wheel! His master dinged him for every little thing, and Sanjay was catching on that this demerit board was a kind of punishment game to him that amused him. But, today he didn’t say a word and didn’t even bother to write up “#13 pissed itself on the WHEEL of PAIN.” What does that mean? It means he is so seriously pissed and angry, that it isn’t even funny to him anymore.

“What the fuck is he going to do to me now?”

Sanjay was thinking this even as he suddenly found himself moving backwards out of the closet and rolling back down the hallway again toward the punishment room. But, then he passed that door and continued. He knew now he was being taken to a new room with a new kind of torture. And, there was no voice in his headphones. There was silence. He was pivoted and pushed through another doorway, and he was surprised what he saw inside.

He was thinking that inside there might be a terrible locking fuck-bench that he would be mounted on, and that he would be impaled there while forced to stare at another whiteboard titled “DING-DONG SEX BOARD: PROGRESS TOWARD MONTHLY QUOTA .” But, it was a nicely appointed second bedroom with pictures on the wall, a nightstand, pillows, a stereo, and two torchiere floor lamps in opposite corners.

Darius parked the slave next to the bed and pulled out a length of heavy thick gauge chain of the type that you might use to hoist the anchor of a small yacht. Sanjay noticed significantly that his master was naked again. He locked one end of chain onto the bedpost of the bed and locked the other end to Sanjay’s collar with a Master Lock 2 ¾” stainless steel discus lock. Darius required Sanjay to lock his own wrists behind his back again and then unlocked him from the high chair. This time, he didn’t put the painful reins on him, but he did hobble the slave with a short length of chain locked around each ankle. He guided his slave in short steps toward the bed and pushed his shoulders down to make him sit on the mattress. Then, Darius sat down on the bed next to Sanjay with one arm behind him and holding a short length of the chain near to where it locked on his collar to keep control over him.

Darius said, “OK slave, I guess we are really going to do this.”

He looked around the room. Coincidentally, he had been intending to install a cruel locking fuck-bench for the slave, but he just had no free time at all to even start that, and the OfficeMax was temporarily sold out of more whiteboards. Then, he remembered he wasn’t wearing his headset and needed to take off its headphones to talk to the slave through air. He thought it would feel weird to fuck the slave with walkie-talkies on.

“OK first, I want you to know, I’m not mad at you. I didn’t bring you here for more punishment. I’ve had all the punishment I can handle for today. OK?”

“nguh,” said Sanjay. He had been very still and afraid to move.

Darius looked at the floor. He was ticcing silently for a moment but not severely. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot today about how, well,… how I am putting a lot of time into this … this thing with you and me. And, I just realized that it’s getting, like, thirty pages into the story. You’re supposed to be my sex slave, but we still haven’t gotten to the fucking part. I … feel like that really needs to change.”

The ding-dong wondered why its master’s face was red. It almost looked as if he were blushing.

Sanjay leaned away to make sure Darius understands he does not swing that way.  But, Darius pulled him back closer by the chain and then straddled him from behind, both sitting on the edge of the bed. Darius pulls the slave in against his own chest and pushes his cock up the middle of its lower back, sandwiched between the slave and his own lower abdomen. He surrounds the slave with his arms and legs and starts squeezing its big brown nipples again in a pattern of two times left – two times right – left – right – left – right, repeating. He continues this for some time, and Sanjay feels his master’s cock growing up his lower back. He begins to tremble nervously and make a gulping sound in his throat.

Darius reaches to the underside of Sanjay’s thick wide collar and turns the valve on the small gas cylinder that resides there. He thinks this will be a better experience for them both if he pacifies it with gas to make it just a little loopy without knocking it out.

“nguh nguh!”

“What’s that, ding-dong? You’re saying you thought your punishment session today was really hot, and it turned you on more than you ever thought possible?”

 Darius growled into the slave’s ear, “Me too!”

He maneuvers Sanjay down on his knees on the bed with his chest propped up on two big overstuffed pillows with his ass in the air. Something is missing. Fuck him like a beast while ….

“Slave,… I want my ding-dong always ringing when in its service to me, and you are in service now.”

Sanjay began to wag his butt right and left, but that wasn’t right at all. Darius pushed the slave’s back down while lifting his pelvis up to make him arch, then reached under Sanjay’s stomach to pull his abdomen up while pushing his ass forward.

“Do that, over and over.”

Sanjay began to alternate between a position back arched – butt up and a scared-cat position – butt clenched, low. Darius made him splay out his knees wider so that his slave-penis and testicles hung free. His penis bells began to ring in time with his butt clenching.

Sanjay wasn’t wearing the headphones, and this was the first time he’d ever heard his ringing slave-penis. His master began to gently poke and rub on Sanjay’s tightly closed thrusting anus with a Vaseline greased finger while his penis chimed underneath it. Sanjay felt totally ridiculous and degraded, made to display his thrusting ass this way while his master played with his hole.

He noticed despairingly that the ringing of his slave-penis was not merely jingling. His slave-penis had musical qualities. There was a harmonic structure, because the large walnut-sized sleigh bells on his penis head were deep, rich, and sonorous. The hazelnut-sized bells on his foreskin had a tone in the middle range. Finally, the smaller macadamia-nut sized bells on his constrictor bands added high pitched accents to form a chord. 

He complained to himself, “It’s my cock! I don’t want it to be musical!”

“ding-dong, breathe all the way deep into your lungs and hold for a count of ten before you exhale. I need you to get more relaxed while I work on opening up your hole.”

 The sight of his ding-dong on the bed clenching and unclenching its butt in the air and ringing its bells for him was very much what he’d had in mind. His cock was getting so hard it frightened him. This was something he’d wanted to try for a long time, but it seemed complicated with many ways to go wrong. As much as he’d fantasized about having a slave and fucking the slave like a beast, he wasn’t very confident. First off, he wasn’t sure if he could get its tight little hole to open. What if he just couldn’t even get it in? What if the slave totally freaks out about this and makes it too difficult? Darius wonders what his own body will do. Sometimes, when he masturbates he gets into a distracting fit of ticcing and obscene vocalizing that spoils it for him. He wonders if he will do that now, and doesn’t want the slave to see that. He wants this but thinks it will be a huge disappointment. Doing this for real will confirm his suspicion that it ought to have remained in his mind a fantasy, and trying to keep a real sex slave was a mistake he will pay for.

Sanjay deepened and slowed his breath inside of his nasal inhaler, which his master had strangely left buckled to his face since capturing him. He’d almost forgotten it was there, but now realized it was always there as another form of bondage to pacify him with anesthetic gas at the turn of a valve. He was still aware, but he could feel his own consciousness being turning down like a dimmer switch. Sanjay heard some familiar alt-rock music being played softly in the room on stereo speakers, and he realized it was his own playlist from his cellphone.

“Did master keep all my stuff from the car,” he wondered?

Sanjay could feel there was a finger bending at the knuckle and circling in his anus. He could feel himself being guided and encouraged to thrust into the finger. He was aware that he was being sexually violated  and robbed of the will and mental focus to even do anything about it. He felt his master’s cock rubbing up and down between his ass cheeks just like the handle of the whip earlier, and then he felt his master’s cock head pushing into him experimentally. Sanjay breathed deeply and started to feel as if he were packed in fuzzy warm cotton balls.

“Master’s trying to fuck me like I’m a bitch,” he realizes.

Sanjay admitted to himself that if this were scene about a hot bitch thrusting on a bed with sleigh bells hanging from her big tits, then he could totally get off on it; so, he started thinking a lot about that. It was a comforting thought that put him in more familiar territory. He would make her keep that pussy high in the air thrusting, her tit bells ringing joyfully. He would spray vagina-tightening libido-enhancing sex pray onto it, which he’d researched on the internet. She would feel herself perking up with goosebumps on her pussy and wanting him more. He would rub on her gently and explore with his lubed finger, trying to find where the docking port is.

Darius succeeds in getting his cockhead in, but he is afraid to push further. What if he has the wrong angle and injures it? He just doesn’t know. He gets the idea that maybe the slave can help figure it out for him. He takes hold of the chain near its collar and starts to gently but persistently pull on the chain to force it to back up on its knees to impale itself on him.

Sanjay imagines how this bitch would become increasingly hot and impatient for him, and the non-stop ringing of clusters of sleigh bells hanging from wide gauge rings on her thick hard nipples excites her. She can’t wait anymore and starts guiding him into her. He reluctantly allows himself to be guided in, because he is a gentleman and doesn’t want to hurt her with his huge cock. They go slow, because he can tell that he’s hurting her, but she wants it badly.

Darius is amazed and blinking at the sight of his entire cock slowly entering his slave’s ass as it backs itself up onto him, painfully but willingly. He wondered how much breaking and punishment it would really take to make it cooperate receiving his cock, but it is doing it already with only gentle encouragement. He strokes the slave’s ass and lower back with his one hand while holding the neck chain with the other. At some point he lets the chain go slack and just wraps his arms around the slave’s thighs and pulls its pelvis the rest of the way into him balls-to-ass. He keeps his hands between the ding-dong’s legs, and he feels for its slave-nuts underneath him. He gently pinches and rolls its left and right testicles between his left and right thumb and forefingers while extending his forearms and then pulling then back into his own pelvis to guide the slave to start making short experimental excursions on his cock. It doesn’t know what to do, but it starts going in the direction where its nuts are pulled. As Darius gains more confidence how to do this, he wraps his two whole fists around each of the slave’s balls and ups the pace of his fucking. He wants this to continue, but he gets over-excited and is suddenly bucking and ejaculating hard into ding-dong’s ass way before he was ready. He starts ticcing and vocalizing again as he cums and unloads what’s been pent up in him all day.

“Whoot! Whoo, whoo, whoo! dingdong dingdong dingdong! Ahah!”

Sanjay is determined in his fantasy that this is not about him. This just a horny bitch with bells on getting what she needs. But his fantasy gets confused when he imagines himself fucking her, pumping her with his meat, and then he is suddenly squeezing her balls while fucking her silly.

What?

And, then a load alarm bell starts ringing between the bitch’s legs. It sounds just like a really annoying alarm clock that wakes you up from your favorite dream.

“Slave, I can’t believe you made your penis alarm go off already again!”

Darius wheeled the slave back to its storage closet after the fuck session. He felt so relieved to get that over with. He’d been so nervous about it, and didn’t even want to admit to himself how badly he’d wanted to make ding-dong his sperm receptacle. If he was honest with himself, he was not as much of a beast as he ultimately wanted to be, and he came too soon, but it wasn’t a huge disappointment. It was pretty good! He decided to share some of his feeling of contentment with the slave. He parked it in the closet and then turned off its gas and gently smacked it on its cheeks to get it more awake. He spent some time rubbing and kneading its bald shiny head. It started to tremble and cry a little bit; so, he kissed it on the back of the head to let it know it was loved and appreciated as a fuck toy.

Sanjay could only stare at the wall while his rapist played with his head and kissed him. Then after some time passed, he saw his master’s hand reach around in front of him with a Sharpie pen and a paper towel to update the status of his demerit board. He erased the first two lines about sleeping without permission and not being eager to drink piss water, because Sanjay had worked those off on the punishment wheel today. But, then he added a bunch more. Sanjay’s heart sunk even farther seeing that all his progress on the WHEEL of PAIN was being zeroed out. His master had to rewrite it all in smaller letters to fit, and he now added the punishment times assigned to each item:

Leaks piss-water around edges of its ball gag - 1 hour

Self-pleasures by humming to itself - 1 hour

Makes noise by humming - 1 hour

Thanks master with over-dramatic defiant tone - 1 hour

Thanks master unconvincingly - 1 hour

Neglects to thank master when permitted to sleep - 1 hour

Neglects to thanks its master when awoken - 1 hour  

Wakes its master with loud noise for no good reason - 2 hours

Tries to pleasure itself with its slave penis - 2 hours

Neglects reading its board while pleasuring itself - 2 hours

Pisses itself on punishment wheel - 1 hour

Makes too much noise on punishment wheel - 1 hour

Grunts instead of squatting/pumping hips on wheel - 1 hour

Delays pace of punishment by answering too slowly - 1 hour  

Doesn’t keep proper form when prancing - 1 hour

Doesn’t thank its master when fucked - 3 hours

Board rewritten in small letters due to so many demerits! - 1 hour

Darius reconnected his headset and spoke to it again through the headphones.

“Slave, you are probably thinking to yourself that I should have given you another big demerit for getting your dick hard (again today) right after I already caught you doing it this morning. But, you’ve inspired me with a new idea. Now that I know you can do it, I want you to always get your slave-dick hard when I’m fucking you.”

“nguh-guh nguh-guh!” Sanjay decided to rush to be thankful for things now before he even comprehended what he was thankful for. He could not keep adding more time on that board!

He saw out of the corner of his eye that his nighttime piss-water bottle was being taken away. He felt relief to see it go. Maybe, his master finally recognized how insane it is to force a person to shotgun giant jugs of piss-water day after day.  

“I decided I don’t want to give you this piss-water, which has been sitting here stale since last night. I want to give you this fresh bottle instead as a special treat, because I really enjoyed showing you the punishment wheel and giving you your first fuck today. It’s been a blast.”

Sanjay saw his master replace the yellow bottle with another one which was so dark that it was a rich deep amber, like a jug of malt liquor. He was so repulsed by the look of it, his eyes just went wide with a plaintive “please don’t make me drink that” look. He again forgot to force dimples in his cheeks and be eager. His master frowned and squeezed yet another line onto the crowded demerit board:

Still not eager to drink its piss-water - 2 hours

“Don’t drink until I say so later.”

Sanjay spent the rest of the night locked in his high chair, looking at his wall, cum in his ass, bells on his penis, whip marks down his butt, waiting with a tube in his mouth for permission to siphon more piss. He would be thankful to drink it, thankful for sleep, thankful when woken, thankful for more punishment tomorrow, and thankful (and hard) when fucked in the ass.  

Darius decided to do something different that evening. He contacted a colleague from work and met him at a local bar for a drink together while watching a game on TV. He was able to go enjoy himself in a social situation, for once, instead of staying at home isolated. His world was opening up in certain ways.

He returned home late in the evening. His ding-dong was continuing to stare at the wall as he had been doing for the past six hours since the fuck session. Darius felt now again the annoyance of having to do another slave-related chore, but he got an idea. He logged into the closet app, and he flipped the light switch off and on remotely. He saw the ding-dong looking around confusedly. Darius put on his headset.

“Hey ding-dong? Did you see the light flash on and off just now?”

“nguh,” it replied.

“OK. From now on, when you see that, it means it’s time to drink your piss-water. I’m thinking sometimes I’m busy and don’t want to waste time talking to you; so, I’ll just flicker the light and you’ll know. OK?”

“nguh-guh nguh-guh!”

He watched on the video stream as the slave sucked and forced itself to chug the very dark piss water without puking or spitting anything out around the edges of its ball gag. There was desperation in its eyes, but it thanked him again enthusiastically.

“nguh-guh nguh-guh!”

He disconnected the headset without another word to it. He was starting to realize that his problems had solutions. He would be able to figure out shortcuts and strategies to manage all the upkeep and discipline of his high-maintenance slave, because he could see how the slave could make his life better and be worth all the work.

And, the new bottle of piss-water was a notable example of a shortcut. He’d realized that he just didn’t have enough piss in his body to keep this little piss-whore tanked up as much as he would like to; so, he cheated. He put some of his own piss in it but no more, really, than before. Then, he steeped it with some Lipton teabags to make it look like it was dark from concentrated piss. Then, he boiled some sugarless Jello and blended that in to make it foamier on top and feel heavier and substantial when swallowing. It was not 100% authentic concentrated piss water anymore, but the slave seemed to believe in it.

He hopes his slave can always feel its degradation is 100% real, because it deserves no less than that – even if he sometimes needs to cheat a little to make it appear so.