The enslavement of ding-dong

Darius is home from work, and he looks forward to having free time. He has been working overtime at the hospital. Everyone has. His resources and attention have been stretched thin. He fixes his dinner and sits down at the table. It is just some pasta and sauce that he threw together. He doesn’t have the energy for anything else.

He snaps his fingers for the ding-dong to come. The ding-dong moves to a position in front of the table. It squats with its hands behind its head. It does its job.

It pumps its hips forward and back. It swishes side to side. It starts to make big wide musical circles with its hips. Its penis bells begin to bounce around sonorously. This always puts Darius in a better mood, and the ho-hum pasta sauce begins to taste like more than what it was a moment ago.

The ding-dong dances for him. Its bell encrusted penis rig rides along with its rotating, gyrating thrusting hips. The penis itself is impaled on a bent rail anchored to a cock ring. There are walnut-sized sleigh bells stapled into the penis head. There are peanut-sized double-bells pierced through its foreskin that stretch it out wide behind the penis head like an angry cobra hood. There are hazelnut-sized bells further in along the shaft. There is a heavy gonging cow bell hanging from a ring in its ball sack. There is a semi-circular pubic cover plate with a wind-up alarm bell behind it. The whole assemblage is too weighty for the cock and balls alone to support. The cock ring is joined to a wide leather weight belt cinched tightly around the ding-dong’s waist to support it all.

The flesh of the penis is heavily scared by all the infibulations and piercings to mount the bells. The stretched foreskin is translucent. It is a decorative penis – aesthetically pleasing, non-functional. The metal rail in its urethra prevents it from flopping around. The rail has a tight bend in it. Erection is impossible. The thing seems permanently flaccid now.

Ding-dong has giant silver dollar-sized dark chocolate nipples on light coffee skin. Its legs and thighs are athletic and musculated. Its ass, pubes, torso, armpits, face, and head are hairless, but it retains black fur on its thighs, calves, and tops of its feet. It has a bulbous ripe brown booty with a comfortable hole.

Its bushy eyebrows were removed, which gives it a blank vacant appearance in the face. Its bald skull is angular and knobby in places. Its forehead rises high out above the eyes. Its eyes are big and brown. Its nose is broad with wide nostrils. The septum of its nose is distended out from under the nose and is heavily calloused. It has full thick lips around its mouth. It has long ears with thick prominent hanging earlobes.

Darius so enjoys gazing at his ding-dong. It dances for him as if there were music. There is only bell sound, but various different-sized bells intermittently ring together in a chord amidst random jingling.  

The vacant look in the thing’s face is the ideal. It follows simple commands and hand signals. It does not initiate. When you look into its deep brown eyes, there is not much there anymore. That’s what all the training was for. It doesn’t look back at him with apprehension. It isn’t making judgments. It ceased feeling humiliated about the removal of all dignity. It has no shame on display. Darius has surveilled, excavated, investigated, alien-probed, furrowed and plowed it.  

It doesn’t talk. Originally, this was prevented with a ball-gag. The ball-gag was removed only for feedings, sex, and oral hygiene. It was to keep its stupid mouth wide open whenever the ball-gag needed to be removed, pretending as if it was still there. He was going to allow speaking on special occasions – like maybe surprise on its birthday. But, there wasn’t anything so complicated that really needed to be talked about. He teased it for a while. Soon there would be a limited allowance to speak. Maybe, he would allow it to express up to ten carefully chosen words as a Christmas gift. But then, Christmas came and went with ding-dong locked in the closet unaware.

Essentially, it still has to pretend there is a ball-gag, even though it isn’t in. That has become the arrangement.

From the beginning, Darius resisted the idea of training the slave to do any high-level functions. He could not stand the thought of it cooking dinner for him or doing laundry – that and a hundred other practical useful things. The problem is it would give the slave to much dignity. Darius didn’t want a wife and didn’t want to ruin the hotness of mastering a boy by giving him responsibilities and making him a life partner or a personal assistant.

Darius knew that he wanted to rule over a boy after breaking and dehumanizing him. So, he looked and found a smart boy in school – a smart boy who made a big serious error thinking with his penis and thereby fell in Darius’ trap. Darius used the boy’s guilt and shame about himself to make him think he deserved penis-belling and humiliating hot punishments and forced sexual slavery to a man.

So, here we all are. Ring, ring, ring… This is the only job the stupid thing can do. It is enough. It makes Darius happy.

Enslaving ding-dong has made Darius more than happy. He has long suffered from a compulsive nervous disorder. The disorder causes him to have premonitory urges difficult to master and control. It sometimes makes him tic and whoop and say inappropriate or obscene things in social situations. The disorder isolated him and hindered him from developing a healthy social life with other people. He could function well in his job but poorly in social situations. He captured ding-dong. It could not object to his tics or his sudden exclamations of “pussy faggot!” It could not take offense if Darius suddenly fell to an irresistible urge to squeeze and pinch ding-dong’s nipples three times on the left followed by three times on the right for as long as he needed to. The slave could not object to anything; so, it became a perfect companion for him. And strangely, the tics and other behaviors began to recede as Darius learned and gained more experience how to be a master to his slave. He found himself better able to socialize with other people.  He still ticked occasionally, but it could be waved off as a little quirk.  His distressing behaviors became less of a problem. Darius evolved into a more complete, independent, socially competent man, while the ding-dong lost its way. If he was full, then it was empty, disassembled, unmanned. It is as if it sacrificed itself so he could live.

What does the ding-dong think about all that?

Darius looks again at the vacant eyes of the slave focused single-mindedly on squatting and pumping hips to ring for him. It seems in its own world. He gets curious about that. It is a dangerous question. Caring too much about the thing’s satisfaction is a slippery slope. Darius feels temptation for a moment to ask it.

He does not go there. The moment you allow the possibility of a discussion with it, it could again awaken into personhood. This is perilous for him and for the slave too. The enslavement of ding-dong works because the will is extinguished in this object, this robot, this this bell-ringing fuck-hole. Don’t mess with it.

Some hours later, he could see the weariness creeping into its dumb face – the tiring arms, the aching bare feet, the sore genitals ringing softly, the hunger in its shrunken belly offset by a distended full bladder. He gave it a moment to piss and clean up before he brought it downstairs.

“I’ll shoot a load in my ding-dong now,” Darius said.

It was a pleasure now to have a clean hole to fuck whenever he wanted. The boy was practically virginal when taken captive and no experience at all with anal sex. He had to teach the ding-dong how to relax its hole and stop clenching. It would incorrectly try to control its body in the situation. Darius would practice thrusting his cock into it for an hour at a time without cumming to prolong the experience. This was difficult for him to master. He tended to ejaculate too soon. The slave would distract him by clenching. Darius pumped its guts full of air with his cock thrusts, and this eventually caused the slave to expel air by farting noisily. This was no problem, except the stubborn ding-dong always tried to prevent it. It clenched up to hold the flatulence in because the noise and smell was humiliating to it. The slave’s gas expulsions were often comically explosive and loud. It would not ignore its indignity and focus on Master; so, it took a long time to teach it to give up control and keep its hole sloppy and open.    

 It bends itself backwards under a shelf built over a bench and pushes with its legs on tip toes to get its ass on the bench with head through the back. It grabs two wrist-sized holes in the shelf above its torso to support itself on the bench to lift its legs and feet off the floor. Darius separates the halves of the shelf with wrist and ankle-sized holes and pulls the slaves ankles and wrists into the holes. He locks the shelf closed with all four limbs locked in. Its arms are fully extended with hands wide apart. Its feet are also wide apart next to the hands. The long muscular legs of the slave are bent and compressed with its knees high up in its armpits. Its thighs are spread wide either side of its abdomen. Its bells all collapse into its groin except for the cow bell that sits on top of its taint.

Darius goes around to the face end of the slave. He pushes the shoulders back through the back opening. He joins the two halves of a solid back plate together around its neck and locks them together. The slave’s head hangs upside down over the edge of the bench. He then turns a hefty hand-crank that elevates and tilts backward the back support of ding-dong. This forces its torso higher and elevates its ass above its head. Its thighs compress into its abdomen more as the crank is turned until Darius hears some ass gas belching from the fuck hole.  The slave opens its mouth and sighs quietly.

Darius straddles the slaves hanging skull with balls on its forehead. He loudly slaps the ding-dong’s cheeks and mouth with his soft cock until it hardens. The slave’s upside-down vision is now filled by Darius’ hairy ball sack. He pushes his penis through the big wide lips to get his cock wetted with spit. His stiff penis continues to lengthen; so, he pushes it down the throat to get it well wetted down to the base. The slave opens its mouth wide to keep its teeth away. Darius repeatedly chokes its throat with his expanding cock. It has never been able to learn to suppress its gag reflex. Darius watches impassively as the ding-dong heaves and makes glottal stifled retching sounds each time he pushes down its throat and withdraws. He pulls out enough to let the slave breathe. He isn’t a cruel master, and he promised to keep it safe. Darius only face-fucks the slave on an empty stomach, because he doesn’t want the slave to barf up its food on his tool. The slave’s stomach is empty today; so, its gagging produces only juice and slime. His cock gets quickly well lubricated in it.  

He used to talk to it more during sex, but he stopped doing that. Talking became awkward sometimes. He would catch himself starting to feel obligated to engage and connect with it. He would feel it move and respond to him. Its eyes would peer at him. He started to feel a little daddyish toward the boy inside. It seemed to want his approval. It got uncomfortable. He prefers now to relate to it as if it were just a complicated sex toy. He knows it must still be thinking something in there. It isn’t completely hollowed out. It still craves his approval in some sense. But, he doesn’t want to engage with it.

Darius pulls out of the slave’s mouth. Drool and slime are dripping down its face. He positions a headrest to keep its head horizontal now. Darius moves his dripping slimy cock around to the fuck-hole side. He pushes it in and fucks the hole. He is neither forceful nor delicate about it.

Darius can see the slaves pilloried hands and feet in the air. He can see and feel and smack the ass while he stands and fucks it elevated to cock level. He can see the slaves belled useless flaccid penis. He can flick the balls with his thumb and finger. This causes the feet to curl and twist. The bells jingle faintly in time with his fucking thrusts. He goes slow at first. He can reach under the shelf and pinch the big brown nipples.

The slave’s head on the other side of the partition cannot see Darius at all. It feels all that is happening to it, but it must stay completely passive. The ass slapping intensifies. The ball flicking and nipple pinching go from a flurry to a storm. The slave’s body is played, squeezed and pumped like bag pipes. The slave’s breath quickens and deepens. Emotions and shocks play across its face. Master’s balls thunk on its hinds. Its body sweats. Its prostate gland is stimulated. It feels sexually aroused. Its impaled pierced scarred meat swells and moves a little bit on its rail. Its wide-open hole is wet and slick with slime, saliva, and precum. It will soon take its master’s cum load.

The partition on the back of the fuck bench has a white board mounted on it. The white board is immediately above the slave’s face and is all that it sees. It reads:

DING-DONG SEX EDUCATION

Rule 1. Relax Master’s fuck-hole and keep it open.

Rule 2. Breathe.

Rule 3. Try to be a satisfactory cum dump.

Rule 4. Here is another chance to improve cock sucking.

Rule 5. Clean fuck-slime from Master’s cock joyfully.

Rule 6. Master loves his dumb little fuck-hole.

Rule 7. Stifle orgasms and be quiet about it.

The ding-dong tries to focus on reading its education board while the ass fucking builds on the other side of the wall. Its prostate gland swells and is pressed down with every inward stroke. It begins to have internal prostate orgasms. Its legs start to tremble in the pillory. Its hole starts to pulse and twitch around Master’s cock. Darius smacks the ding-dong’s ass loudly and hard with an angry handprint, but he speaks to it kindly in contrast to the aggression in his cheek-reddening hand.

“Relax ding-dong. Breathe. I’m not ready. Don’t interrupt.”

Darius slows down his pace of fucking and eases off a little. The slave has a lot of sexual inadequacies that never completely go away, and he just has to live with it. He tries to teach it. He patiently explains to it repeatedly how clumsy, amateurish and inconsistent it is with its body to pleasure him. That’s what the sex education board is for. It didn’t know anything about how to be sexually giving and receptive to a man when it came here, and it is still pretty stupid.

The flustered excited ding-dong backs off and manages with difficulty to stifle its orgasm. It gasps for breath a few moments but tries to be quiet. Its butthole continues to pulse gently in a manner less distracting. It was so close!

Darius fucks slowly now. The hole is slurping and belching around his thick pole. He pinches and plays with the thing’s bent little slave-penis while he waits for it to be still. He reaches up on the shelf of the fuck-bench and tickles the soles of ding-dong’s pilloried feet with his fingers. Its feet twist and squirm in the holes. The slave stifles laughter. Little snorts of air come out its nose.

Darius pulls out for a minute. Ding-dong’s ass burps and fizzes loudly for a long extended time, because he is not allowed to close his hole to control it. Some brown ass juice drips onto the floor. Darius pulls away the head-rest to let the thing’s head hang again. The slave swallows the messy ass-slimed penis and gently tongues it clean. It makes a show of nodding its head and bobbing its throat joyfully to swallow the slop of its ass. It slurps loudly and makes insistent “nnnff nnffff” sounds to beg for more. The master’s cock and balls cover ding-dong’s upturned nose so that the slave smells its own ass.   

Darius withdraws and admires his clean glistening magnificent cock from ding-dong’s throat. “That’s my good little ding-dong! Good work!”

Darius turns around and straddles the slave’s face backing up onto it. He spreads his ass cheeks and blasts a quick fart in its face before going back around to fuck more. He inserts his cock again and continues as before. He pays more attention to the slave this time so that he doesn’t accidentally get it orgasming on his tool again. That is annoying. He slows down and pulls out again as soon as the trembling and gasping begins. He takes another break to clean and re-wet his cock.

Darius repeats this whole process about ten more times, reaming the hole slow - then faster, thrusting like a toilet plunger to pump it full of air, pulling out to make it fart another mess on itself, and shoving the shitty cock down its throat to get it sparkly clean again. It must suck down the shit every time, and it must display a joyful demeanor every time. This is the way.

It must never display any impatience to get to the end of this – no matter how many stops and starts. It is his personal private fuck-toy. This is its purpose in life. It better not want to skip to the end.

Finally, it does come to an end. Darius builds to a more rapid crescendo of fast fucking. The hole is slurping and belching as it should do. He feels the slave begin to tremble again, but he does not back off. He accelerates to a new gear and immediately starts ejaculating into it. His face reddens. His legs tremble. He gasps with the sudden intensity of his own orgasm and leans onto the pillory shelf for support. His penis continues pumping his semen into his ding-dong. It pulses slower and slower and feels so amazing! Oh, this is the best! This is so satisfying!  Oh yeah! I shot a huge load!

The slave’s penis alarm begins to ring loudly because its penis swelled up more than is allowed, and Darius notices that the slave is internally orgasming too. Undeterred, he comes around to the front to have his penis cleaned off again, while it continues to convulse and shiver in its bondage.

“Close your hole now. What time is it? I think the Yankees – Blue Jays game is still on.”

When he is done cleaning up, be opens the slave’s mouth and puts just the head in. He squirts some piss into the open mouth and waits for it to swallow down. Then, he starts a continuous stream to relieve himself. The slave holds its breath so that it can glug-glug it down continuously and keep up until it slows to a trickle. He wipes his dick on ding-dong’s cheek. He pinches ding-dong’s earlobes and rubs them with his fingers affectionately.

“I’ll put another load in you tomorrow before I go.”

Darius puts the noise-cancelling headphones onto the slave’s head in case he wants to talk to it remotely later. He turns out the lights and tells the slave to go to sleep. He puts the ball-gag in its mouth, because it sometimes mumbles in sleep. He leaves the room and locks the door to the fuck-bench behind him. He will check on the slave periodically using an infrared camera and microphone on the ceiling.

The slave continues to tremble and convulse for while in the darkness. It is still doing its best to stifle the orgasm quietly. Semen is leaking out of the drain hole of its impaling penis rail. It knows it has no right to any form of self-pleasuring. It didn’t start orgasming by itself deliberately, but there is no excuse to let it continue alone after Master is gone. It was accidental, and it was an intense pleasurable relief while it lasted.

Ding-dong feels strong temptation in the darkness to experience that again. It knows that the correct thing to do now is to forget about it and try to sleep. It has to at least be still and keep its eyes closed. Master will see with the camera and hear with the microphone otherwise. It will be difficult to get to sleep in this position tilted backward with knees pushed up into armpits, but the ding-dong knows it should try. It needs to be eager and alert for the next fuck session tomorrow morning.

The slave realizes that Master did not bother to reset the penis alarm. He thinks to himself, “So actually, if I could give myself another orgasm, it wouldn’t make the alarm go off now.”

But he could still see me, hear me and know I was getting myself off.

If it is night-time and near the end of a Yankees game, then it must be what?

10 or 11 pm?

Master will probably go to sleep at midnight, which is an hour or so from now. He will check in on his phone app to see me on camera before he sleeps. If he decides to talk to me through the headphones, it will be then. Within an hour after that happens, he will certainly be asleep. He needs to get up in the morning in time to fuck me then go to work.

Ding-dong’s will awakens in him again, as he works his way through this puzzle of how to sexually pleasure himself in his bondage and get away with it. He keeps his eyes closed and lies still while he thinks about it, because he can’t ever tell when Master is looking remotely.

It is difficult to wait, and ding-dong cannot sleep, because now he really wants to cum. He isn’t putting all his energy into suppressing the desire. His balls start to hurt again, and his bent penis swells painfully on the rail. About an hour later the headphones activate:

“Ding-dong, this is your Master speaking. Wake up.”

Ding-dong opens its eyes and looks up to the ceiling. It says “nnfpph” into the gag to confirm it is awake.

“Move your hands and feet around as much as you can to show me you are safe and secure in your bondage for the night.”

Ding-dong twists and flexes and curls its hands and feet in the pillory to show that it can’t go anywhere. It moves its head all around to show its head is still locked off at the neck.

“Good slave. And are you still holding my load? Lift your ass. Open your hole and show me.”

Ding-dong pulls with his hands and feet and crunches with his abdominals to curl his ass upward a little higher. He relaxes his hole and hopes this is good enough so Master can see.

“Good. Close it up again till tomorrow. Go to sleep.”

“Ngguh ghuu ngguh ghuu! (Thank you Master!)” says ding-dong through his ball-gag.

Ding-dong plans to count to himself in the dark from 1 to 3600 at a speed of about one per second to be confident that an hour has passed before he starts trying to pleasure himself. He thinks that is the longest it will take for Master to fall asleep. He may now be masturbating while watching the video feed of ding-dong locked in the fuck-bench, but he will drift off soon after he finishes.

 Eventually he finishes the silent count and then opens his eyes. He cannot see anything. It must be past 1 am now. All seems quiet, but the noise canceling headphones always make it that way. He wants to try some things to see if he can find a way to get himself off again. He is apprehensive but wants to go for it. He may never have another chance.

He did this before once. He remembers now. He closes his eyes and imagines. He imagines it is Saturday morning. He is sleeping late in his comfy bed at the college dorm. No classes today. Roommate is away. He is half-asleep with big stiff morning wood, and he is going to take care of that right now. He slides his checked flannel boxer shorts down to his ankles under the covers. His fat happy hard-on pops out of the waistband.

And it is a perfectly straight big veiny functional man’s penis – not a ruined slave-penis unnaturally forced to make a tight loop skewered on a metal rail. Sanjay begins to stoke his meaty uncut cock in his mind. He gently glides the foreskin up and down over the penis head. His skin is intact and fits perfectly. It hasn’t been studded with inner and outer bells and forced to flare out away from the shaft like the horn of a trumpet.

“Sanjay – that’s my name. I remember.”

Sanjay wants to cum. He’s been imprisoned and punished and brainwashed for years to make him believe he’s not allowed to cum and doesn’t deserve to.

Drink your piss water, ding-dong! Look at the wall, ding-dong! Study your board while I unload in you, ding-dong! Ring your slave-penis, ding-dong! Swallow my cock slime, ding-dong!

He remembers he is not a ding-dong. He is a real male boy human person. He likes girls and fantasizes about fucking a girl with bells on her tits. Suddenly, he is fucking her in his imagination. It is a powerful fantasy, and his slave-penis starts to get painfully kinked and hard on the rail. If the penis alarm had been reset, it would definitely go off now. But, he is happy to remember himself. Just this image of fucking a girl with bells on her tits is so hot and making him so hard and so close. He is pleasuring himself and getting away with it!

The slave continues in this way for while in the darkness of the night – free, masculine, and entitled in its mind to stroke its cock and fuck girls. And, it is a beautiful dream of contentment and lust and possibilities such as every young man desires at that age. It is fulfilling so far as it goes, but as the night continues into the pre-dawn he realizes that the imaginary self-pleasuring isn’t getting over the edge to completion.

He becomes increasingly frustrated that he’s been imagining stroking his hard cock for hours, but he can’t imagine the climax where he finally cums. He’s been fucking the imaginary girl. She is wet and orgasming ecstatically, bouncing on his cock, but he can’t imagine finally unloading in her. His imagination is good enough to get him started but not good enough to finish. Whatever it takes to get him over the edge to orgasm again, the way he did with Master, is eluding him.

The slave succeeded in getting away with its crime. It stole sexual pleasure and enjoyment for itself when it had no right and didn’t deserve it. The video feed played in Master’s bedroom, but he slept soundly. No alarm wakened him. However, the slave is worse off now. It has been trying all night to give itself an orgasm like the one it had before. It got no sleep, wants it badly, and can’t.

In the early hours of the morning, the exhausted and frustrated slave realizes that Master’s cock hitting its prostate at a particular speed and angle is what’s missing to finish. It doesn’t seem to be able to orgasm again without that. There is no amount of imagining. It is stuck and suffering because its will has awakened and become greatly frustrated.

Suddenly, the room lights come on again. The light is so bright, and the slave squints painfully. It has a headache from staying awake all night and thinking too hard. Master is already smacking his cock on its face and pushing it past the lips and down the slave’s throat. He needs to shoot his morning load and get ready for work. The slave chokes and retches again to coat Darius’ penis with slime.

“Master I pleasured myself last night and tried to make myself cum and did it deliberately because I saw you forgot to reset the penis alarm and I really wanted to orgasm again after you fucked me and I waited until you were asleep so you wouldn’t know and …. umm …. sorry! It was wrong. I think it was wrong. Yeah.”

Darius did not expect this and was unprepared. Weird. Why is the thing talking?

He had to sit down.

It doesn’t talk.

“Wait … uhh … what? What did you do?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that.”

 “I imagined I was fucking, like you. I entertained myself and got my slave penis hard. I did it all night instead of sleeping. I tried to have another orgasm after the one you gave me last night, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Why are you telling me?”

“Because, now I really need to cum and can’t finish. I think maybe I can only get off anymore when you fuck me. I’m hurting. It’s messed up….”

Darius needs to think on all this. Why can’t it just sit there empty-headed? Why is it getting ideas?

He gags it again lest it continue saying things to him. He takes it out of the fuck-bench and marches it to the storage closet. He resets the penis alarm. He’d been looking forward to fucking its hole again, but under the circumstances he beat off in the shower instead. Then he went to work.