The enslavement of ding-dong

Everything seems ok for now, but Darius worries that the slave could become willful again at any time.  Its consciousness is like a geyser that simmers under the surface for long intervals until it boils over and erupts with no warning. He needs to understand the thing better. Regrettably, he has to pretend it’s a person and talk to it to it to access what’s in its little ding-dong mind.

The throat training test is pretty simple to explain. The ding-dong gags too much when Darius shoves his meat down its throat. He uses a dildo, which is the same size as his cock, to try to train the slave’s throat. He shoves the dildo down its throat and starts a stopwatch. The goal is for the slave to just quietly hold the dildo in its throat for 60 seconds. Then, Darius withdraws it and allows the thing to gasp and catch its breath. It gets a rest period of 60 seconds. Then, he shoves the dildo back in – same, same.  It has to do 30 in-out cycles of 2 minutes each like that to pass the test. It should be pretty easy to pass. It is easier than swallowing a real cock, but the stupid thing can never do it.   

Darius is a patient master, and he continues to work with the slave, even though it is hopeless. It gives him an opportunity to spend time with it face-to-face in a more relaxed setting different from the punishment sessions or the fuck bench.

So, he shoves the dildo into ding-dong’s mouth and starts the stopwatch. The stupid thing is gagging almost right away. It’s an immediate fail, as usual. Darius likes to continue with the whole hour-long test anyway, because the practice could only improve it. He doesn’t think it is willful about this. He thinks it really does try. It is just wrong-headed, and its brain needs rewiring.

He wipes the spit-up off its face and shoves the dildo in again, restarting the timer. He says, “I wanna know what’s going on your head. You have the next hour to explain yourself to me during your 60 second rest periods. Think about what you want to say.”

Ding-dong immediately is gagging and retching and making plugged drain sounds. The slave is forgetting to hold its breath and relax its throat properly. Its eyes are spinning, and it tries to pull its face away to get the invader out. Fortunately, it is secure in the highchair and cannot pull away. The highchair is parked inside the downstairs shower stall so that ding-dong’s throw-up can be easily washed away. Darius is naked in the shower stall so that he can clean up easily too.

Darius watches the slave panic and choke desperately, sucking breathless on the dildo and try amusingly to retract its head into its body like a turtle. He gets a big full hard-on. He keeps his hand on ding-dong’s face and continues to push down on the dildo until the timer elapses. He withdraws the dildo, which is now covered in slime and regurgitated dogfood paste.

Ding-dong goes “bbbllwwuulaakk,” and expels some slime that goes down his face through the neck-hole of the stock and onto his bare chest. He closes his eyes and gasps dramatically. He has to re-swallow a wad of slime still in his mouth. There are gobs of mucous or something coming out his nose and hanging from his mouth. He looks up at his Master. He hasn’t thought of anything to say. The slave is speechless.

Darius stands up the dildo on top of the neck stock next to ding-dong’s face. He wraps his arms around ding-dong from behind and plays with the new large wide tit rings, rotating them with his fingers.

He says, “If you can’t think what to say, maybe at least start with how you like your new tit rings.”

Sanjay says, “Well, they’re kinda big and … umm … heavy?”

“Damn right they are! I’m gonna have you running on The Wheel of Pain with those knockers thumping on our chest, and its gonna to be hot!”

The timer sounded. Darius shoved the dildo back in. He didn’t say anything more to it while it was busy gagging again. Maybe it would think of something more useful to say.

When he recovered again, Sanjay thought of the most complimentary thing he could think to say to his captor, which was also true. He said, “That orgasm I had when you fucked me was amazing. I just wanted to make it happen again.”

Darius wasn’t going to shut the thing down now by reminding that its orgasms are annoying and get in the way; so, he didn’t reply anything about that.

He said gently, “Try not to say ‘I’ to me when you talk. Don’t refer to yourself as a person.”

He started the timer and shoved the slimy dildo into its throat again. He pulled the slave’s chin up to the ceiling with one hand so that he could shove the dildo in vertically with the other one and move it up and down like a plunger in ding-dong’s throat. It actually made plunging sounds when he did that and caused a fountain of puke to erupt in the shower.

Darius said, “You know, barfing up your dogfood ration is not going to cause me to give you more. You’re just going to have to wait till tomorrow.”

Sanjay said, “Please Master, could you please feed … umm … your ding-dong … something else other than dogfood?”

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally. “If there is something I could feed you that makes you more obedient, then I guess I’d have to consider that.”  

“Uhm … human food?”

“No. ”

It’s time to plunge the dildo in again. Sanjay begins to ask, “Master, please maybe just … some other dogfood that tastes…<gulululaag!!!>”

The slimy dildo pushes all the way down his throat again, and he struggles airless because he was talking and did not fill his lungs in time.

Darius holds the dildo down the ding-dong’s throat with both hands, but he wants to stroke his cock and beat off now. Something about plunging a cock down its throat mid-sentence to silence and suffocate it really excites him.  

The slave makes a glug-glug-glug sound, and a long rope of slimy mucous is attached to the head of the dildo when he withdraws it. There is less volume of fluids coming now. Its stomach must be empty.

“I’m open to the idea. I would consider trying out some other dogfoods and feeding you one you like better, if it will motivate you to be a better slave.”

“Thank you, Master, thank you!”

It kind of melted his heart a little to hear that. It surprised him it was interesting and somewhat useful to talk to the thing. So, he plunged the dildo down its gullet again and reset the timer.

“I haven’t been keeping track of how many cycles. I don’t suppose you are keeping count?”

To his surprise when he withdrew the dildo, the thing gasped out breathlessly, “Six, Master … six!,” and then burped out bubbles of mucous from its nose and mouth.

“Oh, OK! Good little faggot … 24 more to go then. You keep count for me, ok? I don’t want to worry about it.”

He put his two hands on its face with his thumbs in its nostrils and windshield wipered them to get the snot out of its airway. He pushed the dildo back in. He started stroking his full erection with the other hand and immediately felt more at ease. This was going to end with him shooting a big satisfying load.

He also noticed to his surprise that the thing had relaxed its throat this time and was not immediately gagging. It couldn’t sit still for a full minute with the cock in its throat before it started flailing again, but it tried to.  

<GASP! Cough, cough, cough!> “Seven Master!”

How easy it was to get the thing cooperating so its throat raping is more convenient and easier for him. How awesome is that?   

He did some more rapid up and down plunging, and then decided to turn on the shower water so that he could beat off his wet meat in the warm spray. The shower water sprayed all over the ding-dong also. He enjoyed plunging the dildo into its upturned throat while he aimed the nozzle and concentrated the spray directly in its face.

“Why’d you confess to me what you did? I would not have known you were pleasuring yourself and getting your bent thing hard all night. You were sneaky and devious and very bad.”

 “Master, your ding-dong is very sorry for doing that.”   

“No. I don’t want to hear that. I don’t think you’re sorry at all. You are saying what you think I want to hear now.” He plunged the dildo in again and rubbed the dickhead around aggressively in the slave’s tonsils, as if he were scrubbing with a toilet brush.

“I think you confessed because something inside you craves punishment and wants to be ruled over. “

“So, be happy. You’re going to get what you want.”

Sanjay wants to say so many things now that he has never been able to say. He is an unwilling prisoner who was kidnapped out of his car. He is not a ding-dong or a thing. He is a real person with dignity and rights. He doesn’t crave punishment. He hates punishment! He would never defeat himself and subvert his own will. That’s messed up! It’s not true! It can’t be true! He does not want to be ruled over. He wants to be free.

But, the conversation is cut short.

“So anyway, good talk! Ding-dong be silent now. I’m horny. I need to shoot my load soon. Signal me when we get to the last cycle. I will try to hold off until then.”

Darius mounts the highchair to stand on Sanjay’s seated thighs. He straddles the slave’s face and plunges his hard wet meat down the throat instead of the dildo. He leans forward bracing his hands on the shower wall, and he pumps his pelvis to pork up its breathless squirming facehole. He is done talking to it. Is there something like 20 more cycles to go? The thing will get to practice on a real man’s cock for the remaining time. Darius feels through his cock that the slave has made some progress in throat training. It will be motivated to make more.

*****

The Ding-Dong Disobedience Board was updated in the following way:

DING-DONG DISOBEDIENCE Punishment Time

• Previous Total Punishment Time  31 hrs.

DING-DONG DEFIANCE EPISODE

• Doesn’t sleep when told to 1 hr
• Allows orgasm to continue after M finished fucking it, doesn’t stifle it  3 hrs
• Pretends to sleep while plotting to deceive M  10 hrs
• Lies to M that bondage is secure, knowing penis alarm not set  10 hrs
• Defiantly purposely secretly erects slave penis when alarm is not set 10 hrs
• Fantasizes and tries to mind-masturbate slave penis for many hours 10 hrs
• Tries many times to cum by itself while M sleeps clueless 10 hrs
• Not eager to be fucked in the morning due to poor sleep  1 hr
• Interrupts M’s fuck by talking 3 hrs
• Refers to itself as a person: “I’m sorry” 3 hrs
• Requires gagging to silence it  1 hr
• Interferes with M’s enjoyment of hole, making drama  3 hrs
• Sneaky conspiratorial thinking 10 hrs
• Willful disregard for M’s needs  10 hrs
• Ignores its wall, requires 100+ shocks to make it stay attentive  100 hrs
• Failed hole training test because too busy playing with itself 3 hrs
• Self-pleasured itself by bouncing on its buttplug many times  10 hrs
• Makes noise in closet by yelling into ball-gag  1 hr
• Reckless loss of self-control, requiring sedation 3 hrs

DING-DONG DISOBEDIENCE AFTER DRASTIC INTERVENTION

• Fails throat training test  1 hr
• Not thankful for tit rings 1 hr
• Refers to itself as a person  1 hr
• Complains about its food 1 hr
• Pretends to be sorry when it isn’t  10 hrs

Sub-Total  216 hrs

Grand Total  247 hrs

To put it in perspective, the ding-dong has enough physical stamina to tolerate about 5 hours maximum of continuous torment on The Wheel of Pain. It then spends recovery time locked in the closet for at least a day before it can begin again.

The Master always personally supervises the punishment sessions. He does not choose to do it remotely. Therefore, punishments only occur when he is available with time and inclination. Making the slave suffer excites him sexually. He needs to be in the right frame of mind to tolerate persistent erections in a hot room for five hours. He masturbates himself to calm down after the session is over.  He never ejaculates himself until the end of a session; so, the punishment sessions of his ding-dong are frustrating and painful to him also. The most optimistic projection would be about 50 days of punishment sessions spaced out over 5 – 6 months needed to work off all the demerits. This could be accomplished if the slave ceases to be willful and has perfect behavior from now on.

Darius feeds to ding-dong the Pedigree Wet Chopped Ground Dinners, which are a complete dogfood in an attractive can with a picture of a smiling dog. The label says the food is made from chicken by-products. By-products are all the remaining good nutritious parts of a chicken carcass after all the meat is removed; so, it is ground up livers, spleens, lungs, kidneys, and entrails. The manufacturer guarantees no feathers or beaks. It is surprisingly economical to buy in the store. It seems like it should be perfectly adequate food for the ding-dong. Everything else is more expensive. He doesn’t think the thing should get any say about what food it eats, but perhaps it will be motivated better if he indulges its whim about the dogfood.

He picks out Purina One Smartblend Tender Cuts in Gravy. It sounds more appetizing. It has got lamb and pig lungs, also carrots and spinach. That looks good and nutritious for it. The thing will act right and have nothing to complain about now.

The willful and defiant ding-dong now finally begins to receive the punishments it needs and deserves to pay for its mistakes and to make it broken again to surrender itself to its Master. There is a countdown clock mounted on the post of The Wheel of Pain. It has a digital readout which can look like this, for example: 15:45 (indicating fifteen hours and forty five minutes punishment time remaining.)  

The highest the countdown clock can go is 99:59. The only way to proceed with punishments now is to run the clock all the way up to 99:59 and then punish the slave on an aggressive schedule all the way down to 00:00.  Then, the clock will have to be reset all over again to 99:59 and depleted again all the way to 00:00. Then finally, the clock can be used again in the normal way to account for the remaining double-digit hours.

Darius emphasized to his slave that it must have better behavior so that the huge number of punishment hours can start to go down rather than up. He told it that he will switch the dogfood back from Purina One to Pedigree if he if he sees the numbers continuing in the wrong direction.

*****

So, the ding-dong is again hitched to the post of The Wheel of Pain with painful heavy spring-loaded gripping bungee cord clamps on its nasal septum and testicles. The tit bungee cords were now attached to ding-dong’s new tit rings. (They previously were painfully clamped directly to the nipples, but those caused horrible bruises.) Ding-dong’s stomach is again bloated up by making the slave chug a gallon of Master’s diluted piss water. The bad disobedient slave is running continuously around a tight circle pulled by the cords attached to the rotating post. Its forearms are bound together behind in a way that makes the slave run with its back arched and tits out. Darius controls the speed of the rotation by adjusting a dimmer switch on the wall. He keeps it spinning as fast as he thinks the ding-dong can go, and he frequently whips the ding-dong with a bamboo cane on its buttocks and legs to motivate it as it travels around the circle back to his position.  

The slave has blinders fitted on its head so it can only look straight ahead where it is going. It cannot look around and cannot see its own countdown timer. It has no idea how long it has been running nor how much longer to go. It is in fact approaching the 97:00 mark, having made only a minuscule dent in its accumulated hours. The temperature is 105°F in the room. The humidity is jacked up with a steaming humidifier. The slave is drenched with sweat staggering dizzily around. It is already fighting exhaustion, but it really must dig deep and find the energy to endure at least two more hours, if it has any chance of ever getting caught up. Its large metal tit rings are thumping heavily on its chest with every step. Its testicles are compressed flat like stuffed cheese pierogies by the pinching clamps. Every stride bounces them painfully between its legs. The slave is gagged today with a dildo that chokes the back of its throat if it doesn’t keep its head up high while it runs. It sucks most of its air through the nose, but the bulky nose clamp is pushed far in pinching the septum very tightly. That partially obstructs is airway, and the slave labors to keep its breath.

People imagine the torments of hell to be everlasting fire, unbearable cold, darkness, flaying and rending of flesh, and all manner of dramatic things that cause the weeping and gnashing of teeth, but the most awful torment in hell might be monotony. Imagine being forced by demons to keep doing the same repetitive thing over and over again for eternity, long past the point where it first thrilled and shocked you with the horror and degradation of the thing itself. The dripping, faltering ding-dong goes around and around this wheel in a tight circle about 2000 times during every session, and every session barely changes the stats on is board. Constantly spinning, it careens deliriously and starts to falsely perceive that the whole world is spinning crazily around it while it is just running in place at the center.  Ding-dong begins to have a surreal ecstatic visionary experience on the wheel. There is no defiance in it now. It is not plotting its next move. Self-pleasuring is no part of its universe. It feels seasick and cannot do anything to stop the nauseating spin. This experience feels eternal and timeless for as long as it lasts.

The slave’s only consolation is that it knows its Master is here. It can’t see him because of the blinders, but it feels him. It cannot hear him because of the noise-canceling headphones, but there is a presence in the static. The ding-dong occasionally feels his cane brush against its legs, thighs and buttocks. The crop used to whip the slave, if it isn’t giving its best effort, sometimes merely taps on its belly or explores gently between its running sweaty legs near the outside of its little hole.

The slave dribbles piss and sweat around the circular track as it runs. When it is unhitched from the post at the end of its long run, the dildo gag will be removed. The slave will crawl in the same circle on the floor with its ass in the air and its lips and tongue pressed to the floor. It will kiss the floor of its punishment room. It will plough its face through all the puddles of piss and sweat, licking and sucking, to clean up the room for next time.  It will perform this task joyously and display great enthusiasm. It will hurry to lick the floor as fast as it can because its Master is very horny now and anxious to shoot his load.  It will then be returned to its highchair in the closet until the next punishment session.

*****

Back in the storage closet again safely locked away, the ding-dong sometimes feels eager and anxious for another opportunity to talk with its Master. The slave felt that there was a moment in the previous conversation when his Master saw him as something more than just a thing he owns. He was so happy that Master wanted to know what he thinks.

“You see -- it proves that Master knows deep down in his heart I am a real human being to be reckoned with, not just a thing.“

After that conversation, Darius did not think about inviting the slave to share its thoughts with him again for many months. When he finally did let it talk again, it was mainly because he wanted to again enjoy the experience of shoving a cock down its throat mid-sentence to silence it.

“It seems to think it is a person, but it is just a stupid ding-dong.”