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A slave's Induction
Ch 6 -
Ch 6 - Abject Violation
Nick and I massaged the Boss together for an hour, with Nick instructing me on how, and what to do, for the Boss's highest level of pleasure. It was obvious Nick had had plenty of practice at it. Being allowed - even privileged to touch, and feel, and comfort, and pleasure, arguably the most beautiful and masculine man in the world, while that same man has you like this one had me, was creating thoughts that were a hundred and eighty degrees from each other. I hated him for the relentless pain I was suffering, and I worshiped and respected him for the power he had to give it to me. The feel of his hairy body was inexplicable. Every part of it was a celebration of macho - of manhood. And he gave ME the privilege of his nether region. I made it all feel good, cock, balls, asshole - good to the point he was responding with moans of delight.
He was fucking both my body and my mind. I had only been here a few days, and he was as present in my head as he was in my bowels - ass and belly. I was his toy, and right from the start, he'd been playing with me like a cat with a mouse. During the massage, he had as much as told me so, "I could tell from across the room that you were vulnerable to me. You saw us laughing? We were laughing at, and about you. One of the things Nick said that made me laugh, was when I was talking of what I might do with you and how I was affecting you, he said - like a lamb to the slaughter Boss." Bill looked up at the naked muscular hairless stud - his seeming # one, "Right?"
"Yes Sir Boss," Nick replied.
I kept reminding myself of the threat of a, "time out," hanging over me, and I completely internalized the agony of my cramps and pain. When the Boss had had enough of the massage he sat abruptly up and clapped his hands together, "Ok boys," he said. "Lets hit the showers. You can wash this oil off me and get me cleaned up. He had me walk ahead of him so he could watch the plug keeping my asshole open and my cheeks distortedly spread. He said I looked ridiculous and obscene, and that he loved me struggling just to walk - and even more, to do so upright.
The large bathroom had a huge shower. There were multiple shower nozzles on each side of about a twenty-foot deep room - each with its own attached hose and each with its own drain. This end of the room was completely open without a wall. There was about a chair height 4X8 raised platform in the center of the room. It was tiled like all the rest, but covered by a thin but dense waterproof pad. As Nick started a couple of showers and adjusted them for temperature according to the Boss's preference, Bill put a hand on my shoulder and said, "I have to piss." He pushed down lightly on my shoulder and I descended to my knees as he finished his sentence, "And you're the closest toilet." As I was thanking him, he stuck his fingers roughly in my mouth, opening it for his cock.
Having sipped and sucked on his piss for hours from a bucket in the cage, this would be the first time he pissed in my mouth and I feared failing. He started going and I started swallowing to manage the flow. I guess fear made me keep up. There was more, and coming faster than I imagined it would. In short order he had pissed my belly completely full of himself. "There now. You have me in both ends," he bragged.
He pulled me by the belt of the harness at my waist to the platform affair in the middle of the room - how different from his first tug at my belt line in the bar. He turned my back to the bench, "Sit down," he said. As my weight came to rest on the plug with the hard unforgiving seat I tried not to do so, but my, "Thank You Sir!" was not without reaction. I yelled it at the top of my lungs, quickly apologized, tried to compose myself, and spoke it again and again, and finally on the fourth time, my voice was fairly natural sounding and almost conversational in tone.
I steeled myself, ready for the worst, but the Master was not to be second-guessed. To my amazement he lifted my vocal restriction and said I could yell, or cry, or holler, or moan, or groan, as loud as needed. Simply by his will and for his selfish pleasure, he had turned something as rudimentary as my instinctual hollering from pain, into a matter of permission - removed it, and now he was giving it back. It was a graphic affirmation of his ultimate power.
He told Nick to take the harness off me and sit me back down. The short muscular stud stood me up and unbuckled the harness belt. He lowered the assembly to the floor and had me step out of it as my imprisoned genitals crept slowly out of their hiding places. With the pressure of the piss behind it and how stretched I was, it felt like I could blow the unwanted object of my anal torture right out of me. Before I could know if that was possible, Nick pushed me on the chest and I sat back down hard on it. Knowing I could yell, I let it rip. I never would have believed that just hollering could feel so good, but it did. I screamed as I formed my obligatory words of thanks.
I didn't realize in my pain that I had closed my eyes. When I opened them I was sorry I had. The Boss was standing in front of my seated form stroking his big, now hard, pussy ripper, and playing with his tits with the free hand. A most entrancing sight indeed. The Boss told Nick to get lube, which was presented post haste, and he it set next to me on the bench. Leaving me seated he thrust his free hand into what I had always referred to as my personal space - the space around you that is yours - not usually invaded - in the army it was your, "AO" (area of occupation). I had no personal space here - no AO. Hell. As far as personal goes, my person had been a gift to the man with the hand in my face. I had declared it when I handed him my crotch hair in a box. My person, as well as its space, were now his to do with as he wished.
"Lube my hand bitch," He said. "Guess what I'm going to do to you. And I expect you to get it right on the first guess," he added.
I felt a flush from fear and embarrassment that I knew had to be showing. Very sheepishly, with my voice shaky and quiet and unsure, I made my guess. I didn't even like hearing the words come from my mouth, "Fist me Sir?" He made a fist as I continued lubing, and told me to go higher on his arm. Nick wiped my hands off and the Boss told me to get on all fours on the raised platform, and told me what direction to face. I wished so badly I could stop this. Id been fisted once by smaller hands than Bill's. I'd been tied up and when the guy finally got in me he pulled right out from my screaming and pleading with him to stop. And that was years ago.
I had been longing for the huge black plug to be taken out of me. Now, it would be removed, only to be replaced by Bill's hand. I felt the Boss slathering up the area around my torturously spread ass hole. He even forced a finger in alongside the plug and lubed around it. My groaning increased considerably.
Nick roped my wrists to my knees with slack enough not to disturb their natural supporting position under me, and then wrists to each other, and knee to knee the same way. Satisfied with the greasing of my rectal area, the Boss added some more on himself, "And a little more for me," he said. There was a disturbing sound of finality in his tone like he was ready. He was. Nick stepped up on the platform and walked into my view. I watched his muscular hairless legs and powerful kickboxing feet as he stepped up to me, till the fronts of his knees were in contact with each of my shoulders.
"Ok," Bill said. "I like going right in. So your pain and suffering has all been worth it to me, to enable my quick, Ôno beating around the bush' entry. Lets time it." He said with enthusiasm. "As I remove the plug, you start counting, Ôone Sir, two Sir, etc, and count till my hand is in u." He said he would tell me when to start.
"Ok, ready Tom?" I was never less ready for anything in my life. When I answered, that I was, he would know that, but it wouldn't matter. He gets the answers he wants. That had been made painfully clear.
"Oh my god," I thought to myself. It's really going to happen. He's really going to fist me. And according to him, this plug has made me ready to enable his, Ôgoing right in' as he put it. "PLEASE NO!" is what I was shouting on the inside. The answer I gave - "Yes Sir, Boss."
"Show me how you're going to count." He said. I gave my sample count to his approval. "Ok. Start counting," he instructed. As I began to count, he pulled on the plug base and by the time I got finished screaming, "2 Sir," the plug had dilated me to the widest point and I began screaming the next numbered time demarcation. On 3, it was leaving me and his piss was too. At 4, his hand was at the door and pushing in, stopping the piss flow. I was barely able to think enough to remember the next number or be able to shout it out. But I did somehow, through the blinding anguish, and by the end of, "5 Sir," he was at his widest knuckle point, and just stayed there.
"Keep counting," he yelled over my racket. I had to remind myself that begging him to stop, would only make things worse, and I counted, six and seven and eight and nine. I felt him pushing slowly and steadily into me. "Fuck yeah, " he said. "My hand's inside you along with my goddamn stinking waste!" Nick told the Boss it was great, and Bill's answer almost snapped me, "No. I can do better than that. I was doing Tom a favor and lingering to open him up a little. Lets go again. This time I'll go for speed." I couldn't help it. My head slumped in disbelief. The words played over in my mind, "Doing Tom a favorÉ Opening me up a little," and, "go again." I couldn't believe it. I don't even know what the words were that I yelled. I think they were, "Oh my God Sir!!"
Yelling over me, Bill hollered, "I'll give you some time out if you need it Tom?" Anyone seeing this would think me crazy not to accept his offer. They would have no idea what that meant. I turned it down heartily to his taunting me. "I don't know," he said, "You sure?"
"Please Sir," I yelled and begged with belabored words and feeling his hand moving inside me. "Please do it again! I'm sorry if I seemed less than thankful. I didn't mean to, Sir." The Boss was quiet. "I beg you Sir to do it again. I want you to be satisfied with your time. And I yelled out my mantra, "You first Sir, always and in all things! Thank you Sir!"
"Great!" he said with enthusiasm. "Lets do it!" He pulled his hand slowly back - the intensity of my screams increasing from the added pain - as the rest of the piss ran out with his excruciating withdrawal. He had Nick re-grease the plug, which had been washed clean of it by my gut full of their acidic urine. As I felt the plug it was moving forward. No warning - no pause at the entry. Bill rammed it in at lightening speed. It had split me to its widest and was wedged inside me in a few seconds. Nick hollered over my primordial screams, "Wow Boss. That was a record for sure. You never did it like that before.
"Good eh?" the Boss beamed.
"Yes Sir Boss! Good Sir!"
Bill rubbed my back just above my ass and spoke just loud enough for me to hear him. "Ok Tom," he patted to get my attention, "Ok bitch. Bring it down a few notches. Come on back down to earth for me." His hand felt so good there on my back. It was so gentle. He let it linger on me while I quieted down as ordered. And with the black monster still in place, he got in my ear and spoke softly. "I need for you to count again." He patted the small of my back again. It almost felt affectionate, "Can you do that for me?" Maybe he did it just because he thought it would wreak havoc with my unstable emotions. Whether or not that was the reason, it did.
"You gonna do a good job for me, to apologize for the things you do that disappoint and displease me? You gonna work with me so I can get a record time for my fist in your pussy?" With the gentleness of his touch and his low voice whispering in my ear, I kind of blubbered out my answer in a sudden rush of pure emotion. "Yes Sir. I will work with You Sir. I'm sorry Sir for disappointing you. I'll do a good job to apologize for those times."
He told me he wanted me to push back so Nick didn't have to apply any more pressure with his legs to my shoulders than was absolutely necessary. I was to pretend Nick wasn't even there and to do it on my own. Nick had bent forward and was greasing around my hole again and then Bill's hand. I heard Bill say, "That's enough." and Nick's respectful reply, and I went rigid from fear. Now, I knew what to expect. The Boss saw what I was doing and told me to think of someplace beautiful and peaceful in my mind, and let go. Patiently he coached me to relax.
As soon as I did, I felt his hand grabbing onto the plug and started counting. "One Sir! Two Ssss" was issued in a shout, and before I could finish hollering the word, the giant plug was yanked from within me. Instantaneously as I shouted, "three Sir," his hand was pushing on me and against all that was instinctive and natural, I remembered and pushed back into it.
Immediately I knew it was different. This time he was entering me with a wider less collapsed hand. He jammed with atomic force, and I screamed at the top of my worn out lungs with a voice beginning to fail, and lost the cadence of my count. I quickly realized, and yelled, "four!" And as I was screaming out the word, "Sir!" my ass hole spread to a new dimension to accommodate the god-man's big hairy hand and he was inside me with it, with my anus wrapped around his hairy wrist.
The vision of his hand wrapped around the weight bar in his gym as I was spotting him came to me - how beautiful it looked - its hairy knuckles and all. I never imagined it would be inside me turning me into what I had heard referred to as a hand puppet. I had become just that as he had turned my tortured anus into a bracelet on his wrist.
"See if you can work your pussy muscle," he shouted. I knew what he meant and I tried with all my might, but there was no discernable response. The Boss said he'd have been surprised if there had been. "Go ahead," he said to Nick. Nick placed a little breathing apparatus on me and stretched the elastic around my head to hold it in place. He adjusted it for perfect position, and informed me about it. "If you breathe through your nose you will get poppers. The Boss doesn't always do this. You're very lucky."
I was not feeling lucky, but I believed him. As the Boss played around inside me to my disbelief, I inhaled through my nose and began to feel better, the second breath, better yet. And the third and fourth, I sucked air through the instrument of mercy strapped to my head like there was no tomorrow, and at present, I was wondering about that possibility. I stopped hollering and began moaning and groaning and grunting and floating.
"There we go," the Boss said quietly. Much better. That's enough poppers for a while," he said. "Breathe through your mouth for a while." He twisted and turned his hand and moved his fingers around and then exited with a collapsed hand. Bill said now that his septic tank was empty and his piss wouldn't degrease things, he was going to have a little fun.
I felt the tips of his fingers as he pushed into me with his collapsed hand. I sucked hard on the breather repeatedly. It truly was an instrument of mercy. Not hollering, but with a voice completely strained and distorted and broken up in conjunction with the intensity of the Boss's activities, the Boss used his new toy for a little bit, exiting and entering it. Each time he exited he clenched up and stretched me and stayed there for a moment before pulling out. His reentry was almost immediate and usually fingers first. By the hardest I was able to keep the hollering down, opting for loud groans, and other sounds I cant really describe. I never heard them coming from me before.
Bill told Nick to go get something he called by a name I didn't recognize. He returned holding something in his hand I wished he hadn't been sent for. The bottom of the terrible looking instrument was essentially, a duplicate of the cone plug I'd had in me. Out of the top of it, protruded a thick shaft few inches long, and atop that, sat another smaller cone all molded as a single unit.
Bill rolled me over on my back and indicated where on the padded platform he wanted me. He told Nick to grease the new plug - while he explained the next act of sadistic abuse I would be expressing my thanks for. "I told you I'm going to go deeper in you. This means going through your second sphincter. Yours is tight as expected. It hasn't been trained or used before your time in the cage, right?"
"Nor had it even been considered as a possibility," I thought to myself, but I concurred that he was correct.
"Well, what I'm going to do to the inner one will make things easier for me, just like the first plug helped to open up the outer one for me today. When I think you've adjusted to this one, Nick will put a larger one in there for me." Bill stepped up on the platform and stood with a foot on either side of my head. "Hand me your ankles. I'll hold your legs up for you," Bill instructed. I raised my legs into the air, and Bill's big strong hands met them. He told me to spread Ôem as wide as I could, and to keep them spread no matter what. He pulled them back till my ass was somewhat in the air and gave Nick an admonition.
"Remember boy, you're going for speed here. Tom's going to count for you. Right toilet mouth?"
"Right Sir," with a "Thank You Sir." Was pretty much a standard reply, which covered the requirements.
"You remember how to do that right?" Again I repeated the same response.
"Ready Nick?"
"Yes Sir, Boss!"
"Ok Tom you can start counting."
I said, "One SsÉ" and before "Sir" could be spoken, the thing that looked so terrible felt ten times worse. As I completed the word, "Sir," the ass plug entered and snapped into place, the pain deep inside was unimaginable. The upper cone had split me open up there in that second sphincter, and the thick shaft was holding it open. I hollered, yelled, shouted and screamed - all. And while I was doing so, Bill let go of my ankles. They fell. Where I was lying, my ass was all but hanging over the edge of the platform. So the effect of my legs falling down to the floor, tended to make me sit up. Bill made sure that's just what I did. He put his hands in my armpits and lifted me up to a seated position and said one word, "Stay."
I sat there, wanting to stop screaming, but I couldn't. Not only was my ravaged "pussy" as he was calling it, on fire, but that place up inside me, ravaged only 24 or so hours earlier, now felt the same Ð worse actually. He rubbed the top of my head affectionately. "You're a fun toy," he said. And then to Nick as he stared to walk away, "Get it harnessed up and bring it to my office."
Nick picked up the harness and in no time it was retaining the new instrument of horror in me, just as it had the old one. In my anguish he required my help effectively positioning the flat codpiece until all was secure - my frontal appearance as if I had no genetalia at all.
I was imagining how walking was going to affect my new appliance - hell even standing would be unbearable. The small, perfect, naked, hairless, man, listened to me yelling and encouraged it. "Go ahead. Get it all out of your system." And then the bad news, "Cause when you go to the Boss's office your noise abatement requirement will be in effect again. So take a minute and let it all out. When you hear the snap of my fingers in your ear, begin bringing it back down to earth. You can moan and the like, but you need to hear what I'm going to say to you. So keep it low and subdued."
I yelled out, "Thank You Sir." And started to try to minimize my loud way of dealing with the pain. Nick patted me on the thigh and walked over to the running showerhead, to luxuriate under the spray of warm water. He shot some soap into his hand from a dispenser and began to wash himself. He faced me and lathered up. It was a show to beat all shows. Though he avoided completely his cock and balls, which pretty much confirmed my suspicion about them.
"Talk to me," he said. "Tell me about it. I won't tell the Boss." I thanked him first and hesitated. "Go on," he said. "Its ok." He said I was doing good, coming down on my own. The slightest commendation was magnified ten times. It was so good to hear - something akin to water for a man dying of thirst. Then right there before me, he turned around, bent forward and soaped up his hairless ass crack in my plain view. Even hurting like I was, I became stunned like a deer in the headlights, glued to what I was seeing. "Go ahead," he said, as he straightened up and worked on his beautiful ass cheeks next, still letting his fingertips find the crack, and lingering to wash it some more. I remembered my face being roughly ridden by that heavenly crevice and its hairless pucker.
I did what he said, hoping it was not a test or a trap. I was crying, groaning, and yelling to try to cope. As I writhed, my emotion filled distorted words, were the perfect compliment. "It hurtsÉ soooÉmuchÉ Sir!"
"Listen," he said, "I'm going to tell you how it is for me and for you. I belong to the Boss. He saved my life and now it's his. He said when he found me in the gutter, I reminded him of a stray dog he once rescued. He took me from that gutter, a homeless crack addict on the bottom of the heap and brought me back from certain death that would have come soon. He was hard on me. He hurt me like he's hurting you, and he kept me here against my will, before he got me dried out. He worked me out like the devil and still does. I hated him till he made me realize he was the only reason I was alive. He was the reason I could be proud again when I looked in the mirror. He fed me what I needed to build back up, and he made me work hard."
Nick finished showering, picked a towel off the wall and threw it at me. Reacting quickly to catch it, as it was about to hit me in the face, hurt me deep inside. "Dry me," he said, and continued on. I stood up and it hurt from the tip of the inner cone to the base of the outer one. Every movement I made to dry the god off, was agonizing - especially bending over, and kneeling down. Squatting tightened the crotch strap against the plug and drove it in further, and again, a little was a lot. Through my agony I listened intently to his story feeling privileged and taken aback that he was even telling me.
"The Boss is not a friend or buddy or pal or employer - although that's what some who see me with him believe, and that's the way he wants, and has designed it. What he IS, is my unquestioned Lord and Master. What I am, is the Boss's slave and grunt and pig and boy and gofer and anything else he wants me to be. He is my owner, and I am his property. All decisions are made with his purposes in mind. He has complete control and I obey him unconditionally." He took the towel and rubbed his body, as only a man can dry himself. My privileged duty over, he told me to walk around the platform as he continued on.
Walking was as bad as bending over and kneeling, only the pain from bending and kneeling, ebbed just a bit after I had gotten into position. Walking, I discovered, hurt all the while. Instinctively, to minimize the misery, I stepped lightly and wide legged with my shoulders hiked up practically to my ears trying to work into the difficult task. Nick disappeared for a minute and came back with a belt in his hand. He laid one across my cheeks with a force I knew would have left an immediate scarlet welt. "You know better than that!" he shouted. Walk as if the Boss was behind you!"
I straightened up by the very hardest and took a step and got another stripe - another step and another stripe. Nick pushed me on my arm and I landed on the padded platform. Landing on my side the way I did would not have mattered at all under normal circumstances, but with the plug in me, it was a horrendously painful fall. I yelled out and he grabbed my balls crushing them. "Yell again," he said.
I moaned knowing I could not holler out again. "Get up!" he shouted. I stood, and forced myself to put my feet together, and did all I knew to do. I started repeating with an astoundingly strained voice, "Thank You Sir. I'm sorry Sir. Thank You Sir. I'm sorry Sir." He let me stammer on while he sat down on the platform holding on to my balls with a grip like a vise.
"Keep thanking me and apologizing no matter what, till I tell you to stop." Then he issued one word, "Walk!" As I took a step, mercifully he let go of my balls. I started to walk like I remembered doing before - only now it was harder, hurt deeper, and although I wouldn't have thought it possible, felt more humiliating. I walked and moaned and spoke my two obligated statements.
He sat there as I came by him from a full revolution around the platform and laughed. "Well at least you're entertaining," he said. "You should see yourself. You can't believe how ridiculous you look and sound. People that have known and respected you, should see you now - see what you really are - see you being made to walk with about fifteen inches of plug harnessed up your pussy - see the angry stripes on your ass from being beaten just for walking to try to make it hurt less - hear the misery in your voice as you repeatedly thank me for beating you and apologize for causing me to have to do so.
I hadn't really thought about the outside world since I got here. My focus had been totally redirected. Hearing him paint the picture, did make me feel embarrassed - but only for a moment, before the pain in my ass brought me completely back to the here and now. The outside world seemed so far away and immaterial to helping me, it might as well have been Mars.
Nick ordered me to jog once around the platform and then come and sit with him. I tried not to even moan knowing the time was drawing close I would be taken to the Boss. I did grunt once with each step. I approached Nick and feeling humiliated, stood there unable to sit. He patted the pad right next to him, and used the economical, one word command, "Sit."
As I did, he told me to get close to him so my leg was tight up against his. That feeling of humiliation wasn't going away, but now was accompanied by awkwardness - confusion and uncertainty. I had always been self confident - my reasons for it always affirmed in my associations. He put his arm around me and all the negative feelings went postal. There was no confidence - no self-assurance - no pride - no courage.
I could smell his light pit aroma where he hadn't soaped himself and wanted to tell him how good it smelled. Maybe I would have the chance to speak it, if I were addressed.
He put his muscular arm around me and tugged on my shoulder a little. What's more, he put my hand on his smooth hairless leg. My brain was cross circuiting. Nick told me to move my hand around and kind of very lightly massage where it was resting on the inside of his thigh. I felt like I was making out in the back of the movie theater when I was in high school. He held onto me and talked his talk.
"My allegiance is to the Boss. If he told me to kill you, I would - no questions asked - and dispose of your body. But he hasn't said that, and he hasn't said I can't be nice to you when I don't have orders to the contrary. So in the spirit of being nice to you, and befriending you, I'm going to tell you about you. You are very lucky. I know it's hard for you to believe right now, but trust me it is so. You should go into his office aware of that. It is seldom he is as lenient with someone as he is being with you. He's done some really terrible things to a lot of men that have passed through here. He is a premier sadist, as you might believe from the movies you watched and will become a part of.
"A number have left in bags, but not till days after they were begging for one. When he decides to retire a slave, he pulls out all the stops for a few days to a week, before. The other way they leave is being sold to who ever has the money. And some of the men with money are real freaks."
With his arm over my shoulder, I sat there on my fifteen inch intruder listening, massaging the thigh of the man telling me he would kill me if its what the Boss wanted, and informing me of guys leaving here in body bags, tortured to death. He was terrifying me, and comforting me at the same time. In this place where I'd never felt so isolated or alone, he felt like a friend at this moment. He, like the Boss, was not to be second-guessed. Each was capable of everything from cold-blooded murder, to his own brand of compassion.
There had been an act of compassion in the Boss's rescue of this man, and he required his slavery as a payback. But it had worked unequivocally. It was obvious Nick was an absolute extension of Bill's will. Even from where I sat in such pain, something in me allowed for validation of what was here, and respect for its all-controlling creator. I was under his complete domination - control and spell. How I spoke, how I reacted to his pain, even the way I walked, was by his prescription, to maximize both my discomfort and his pleasure. Nick said to eliminate any misplaced ideas of intrinsic value. He asked if I understood what that meant, and I concurred. Any worth I had here was in how carefully I obeyed - quickly I learned - completely I acquiesced - respectfully I served - pleasurably I performed - lived up to my all-important mantra.
Sitting there plugged in astounding pain listening to the words he was speaking - his arm around me while I rubbed his leg should have been anathema - but they weren't. Nick was painting a picture of my, "good fortune," as to the Boss's lenience with me. He said if I didn't go into his office with an appreciation of that, I might end up like the others. He would give me a short period to prove my allegiance - that if he didn't see himself when he looked at me, I would not make it.
"Its obvious the Boss thinks you have potential, "Nick said, "or you would not be having it so easy. He's mentioned, he wants a permanent slave as a new domestic. It doesn't seem he's taken you to be put down or sold like the others. Maybe he believes you have the possibility of performing in that role. And believe me," he said with a warning in his tone, "If that's so, you are about to partake in the most important interview you could possibly imagine."
He seemed almost empathetic as he spoke, and definitely so as he allowed me a few minutes to get quiet, before he took me in to the Boss. He took his arm from around me. Something so simple had been so important. Having done so gave me a sense of yearning for more. He pulled away to stand, and my hand lost its connection with Nick's warm thigh. Instantaneously I missed that too. What ever he was, what ever he'd done to me, he had befriended me as well. Whether it ever happened again or not, I would remember it had happened here and now. "Think about what I've said," he warned as he walked away and disappeared out of the shower. I watched his naked ass cheeks do the alluring dance ass cheeks do, when a man like this, has a bubble butt like his.
What he'd said sunk into me deep, and with all I had been through - more, I thought, than any man should have to endure, I realized I really WAS lucky. Being quiet was hard but I was succeeding. I practiced out loud speaking conversationally. I was working on hypnotizing myself to help bear the invasive presence of the intruder in me when Nick returned. There was nothing in his hand like I feared there might be when he came back. As he walked toward me he instructed, "Stand up shithead. What you've been waiting for has come. The Boss is ready to allow you some of his valuable time.
He aimed me toward the door we'd come in earlier, and gave instructions from behind me. "Go!" was the first one. "Slow!" he barked. I thought about how ridiculous my ass must appear from behind - how different from Nick's dancing cheeks from just moments ago. He steered me as if by spoken remote. First, "Left," and then, "Right," and then, "Stop." My legs were trembling noticeably and I felt faint. I hoped informing Nick would be a better decision than falling over so I did, "Sir. I think I'm going to pass out." He grabbed my head and pulled it down by my knees and I could feel the blood returning.
"Ok?" he questioned. I said I thought I was, and he told me to come up slowly and take a few deep breaths. He waited a moment before knocking at the door. He placed me so my nose was all but touching the door as his knuckles hit the wood.
"That the toy?" It was muffled, but it was unmistakably the Boss's voice, "Bring it in Nick."
"Yes Sir Boss." As he pushed the door open exposing my naked form to the one I feared, I felt embarrassed about my nakedness. I never remembered feeling it before, but I was, here, now. Bill was completely dressed, so much the worse, for my humiliation. He held a stogy in one hand and was writing something with the other. "Put it over there." He pointed with the back end of his pen without looking up from his work.
"It," echoed in my head. My long enjoyed presumption of personhood was being stripped away and I was being referred to as an object for this powerful man's purposes. He saw a living, breathing, painfully stuffed - thing - being brought before him. I was a toy for his amusement. Human rights would become things of the past - hell - humanity itself was a thing of the past for me. How & when I suffered - how & what I learned to think - how I served - what I did - would all become maters for his disposition now. But I looked at the beauty of the man before me and thought about the words Nick had just spoken to me - the words of his slave and thought how it could be worse.
Nick pushed/ guided me to a place about ten feet from the side of Bill's desk. He grabbed a towel, put it on the floor and told me to sit on it. It was so difficult getting into position, but I did. And once I did, the weight of my body on the plug forced it to a new place a little deeper, and again, a little was a lot. Nick asked if there was anything more the Boss wanted, and was told he could leave. As he walked away I felt alone and deserted. My spirit was crying out, "Please don't leave me here." My voice said nothing as I waited for the Boss to acknowledge me.
I took the quiet time, to work on psyching myself or hypnotizing myself, to try and minimize the pain of the plug. I was in a fairly deep trance when the Boss spoke, positioning himself comfortably at the same time in his reclining leather office chair. He pushed back, turned in my direction, and put his feet up on the desk, crossing his legs. I felt a new flush of red appearing on my face I knew he could see.
His cigar lent itself perfectly to his macho image. He sucked on it, turned it around to examine it, and blew smoke rings. And still looking at his cigar, he acknowledged me. "You said you would think about your decision before giving it to me. I went out of my way to make sure you had the opportunity to do that. So talk to me. Tell me where u stand on the issue of my offer to you."
The time was at hand, to put into my most carefully chosen words ever, the things I needed to say.
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