"You've got to be kidding me," Mike muttered under his breath. The rain had started to pick up, creating a rhythmic tap-dance on the sidewalk. His friend's insistence to visit the leather bar had him feeling more than a little out of place, especially considering the last time he'd been out, it had been just after his Daddy had dumped him, and he'd been comforting himself with crappy TV and ice cream.
"Come on, live a little," Jake said with a wink, slapping Mike on the back. "You've been moping around for weeks. Time to get back on the horse."
Mike rolled his eyes but followed Jake's lead, his sneakers squeaking on the damp concrete. The door to the bar was a heavy slab of wood, and the thump of bass from within seemed to echo the pounding of his heart. As they stepped inside, the smell of leather and sweat hit him like a wall, and he felt his cheeks flush.
"What'll it be, boys?" the bartender, a burly, hairy, man with a friendly smile, asked. Mike stuttered over his order for a beer, his eyes scanning the room nervously. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before--very hairy men, smooth men, and all stages in-between, in leather chaps and harnesses, others in tight leather pants, and a few in nothing but jockstraps. The atmosphere was thick with desire, and he felt himself shrinking into his own skin.
The bar was dimly lit, with flickering candles casting shadows that danced on the walls. The patrons' eyes seemed to bore into him, and he tugged at his t-shirt, suddenly self-conscious about the patch of hair peeking out from his neckline. He'd always been a hairy guy, something his former Daddy had teased him about mercilessly. But here, amidst these leather-clad hairy men, it was like he'd walked into a whole new world where his body might be appreciated rather than ridiculed.
Mike took a sip of his beer, the cold liquid doing little to calm his racing thoughts. As he scanned the room, his gaze was drawn to the far corner, where a man sat alone, nursing his own drink. He was tall, broad, and very hairy, with a chiseled jaw and piercing eyes that seemed to cut through the haze of the bar like lasers.
"Who's that?" Mike whispered to Jake.
"Oh, that's just Brutus," Jake replied with a knowing smile. "The resident master. He's got a way with subs, especially the newbies."
Mike's heart skipped a beat. Newbies? Was that what he was now? He'd never thought of himself in those terms before, but as his eyes lingered on Brutus, something within him stirred. A thrill of fear, a hint of excitement. He took another sip of his beer, feeling the eyes of the man in the corner on him, like a physical touch. And without realizing it, he found himself setting his bottle down and heading over, drawn in by a force he didn't understand.
The man looked up as Mike approached, his gaze raking over him from head to toe. Mike felt a shiver of anticipation--or was it fear?--as Brutus leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What brings a little pup like you to a place like this?" Brutus' voice was like gravel, rough and deep. Mike swallowed hard, trying to form a coherent sentence.
"I'm... I'm just here with my friend," he managed to say, gesturing awkwardly to Jake, who had already melded into the crowd.
Brutus leaned forward, his leather jacket creaking. "Is that so?" He reached out and tapped Mike's chest with a finger, lightly brushing against the hair peeking through. "You don't seem like the type."
Mike felt his cheeks burn. "I'm... I'm open to new experiences," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The smirk grew. "Well, then. Maybe I can help with that." Brutus stood, his movements fluid and predatory. He was at least a foot taller than Mike, even hairier, and twice as broad, his leather-clad body a sculpture of power and confidence. Mike's eyes traveled over the bulges in Brutus's tight pants, his breath hitching slightly.
"Follow me," Brutus said, his voice a command, not a request. Mike found his legs moving before his brain had a chance to argue. They wove through the crowded bar, the music pulsing through the air like a living thing, until they reached a set of stairs leading to a dimly lit area above the main floor. Brutus led him to a private booth, the air around them charged with an unspoken understanding.
Brutus took a seat, his eyes never leaving Mike's. "Strip." The word hung in the air, a challenge that made Mike's heart race. He hesitated, then slowly began to remove his clothes, his hands shaking slightly as he revealed his hairy chest and stomach. When he was down to his boxers, Brutus gestured for him to remove those too. Mike complied, feeling the cool air of the room brush against his skin, his cock thickening slightly in anticipation.
Brutus studied him, his expression unreadable. Mike felt vulnerable, exposed, but also... alive. Brutus reached into a pocket and pulled out a leather collar, studded with metal. "This," he said, holding it up, "is where your new life begins." He stepped closer, the smell of leather and musk enveloping Mike as he fastened the collar around his neck. It was snug, but not uncomfortable, a symbol of his submission that sent a thrill through his body.
"Now, kneel," Brutus ordered, and Mike sank to the floor, his knees pressing into the sticky carpet. Brutus reached into his jacket and pulled out a leather lead attached to the collar. "You're mine tonight," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in Mike's very soul. "And if you're a good boy, I'll make sure you never forget it."
Mike nodded, his eyes cast downward, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. He was crossing a line, entering a world he'd only ever fantasized about. But as the lead was looped around Brutus's strong wrist, he realized he didn't want to go back. This was what he craved--the submission, the control.
Brutus tugged gently on the leash, and Mike followed him out of the booth, down the stairs, and through the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor. They moved with a purpose, heads turning as they passed, whispers of curiosity following in their wake. Mike felt like prey, but it only served to heighten his excitement.
They reached the back of the bar, where a heavy velvet curtain shielded a private area from prying eyes. Brutus pushed it aside, revealing a room filled with leather and chrome, the air thick with the scent of sex. Mike's stomach flipped, but he didn't hesitate. This was his fate now, tied to this dominant man who would show him what it truly meant to submit.
Brutus led him to a leather-covered table, the edges smooth and cool against Mike's skin as he lay down. The man's hand was firm but gentle as he secured Mike's wrists and ankles with soft cuffs attached to chains. The feeling of being bound, of being completely at someone else's mercy, was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Brutus leaned over him, his breath warm on Mike's neck, his voice a soft growl in his ear.
"You're going to be a good pup, aren't you?"
Mike nodded, his voice shaky. "Yes, Sir."
"Good boy," Brutus said, stroking Mike's thick mat of chest hair. "Now you can prove how committed you are....."
He picked up a pair of clippers, the buzzing sound filling the room as he turned them on. Mike felt the first touch of cold metal on his skin as Brutus began to trim the hair from his chest. The vibrations sent a jolt of pleasure through him, and his cock grew harder. Brutus noticed and chuckled.
"Someone's enjoying this," he said, moving to his stomach. The clippers grazed his skin, sending a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Mike bit his lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. He'd never felt so exposed, so vulnerable
Once his torso had been reduced to stubble, Brutus set the clippers aside and picked up a can of shaving cream. He squirted a generous amount into his palm, rubbing it into a thick lather. The cool sensation on Mike's skin was a stark contrast to the heat building in his loins. Brutus spread the cream over his body, his touch deliberate and firm, leaving no patch of hair untouched.
The first stroke of the razor was almost unbearable. It glided over Mike's skin with a precision that sent shivers down his spine. Brutus worked methodically, removing the last remnants of Mike's furry exterior. Each pass of the blade brought a new wave of sensation--the coolness of the shaving cream, the warmth of his skin, and the occasional flick of the razor against a particularly sensitive spot. Mike's erection remained steadfast, a silent testament to his arousal.
Brutus took his time, ensuring not a single hair remained. The process was both erotic and slightly painful, a delicious mix of sensations that had Mike writhing beneath the leather straps. His eyes never left Brutus's, the unspoken communication between them growing stronger with each moment.
Finally, Brutus wiped away the last of the shaving cream, revealing Mike's smooth, hairless body. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, a proud smirk on his face.
"Much better," he said, his hand reaching out to caress the newly bare flesh. "Now, let's see if you can handle the rest."
Mike's heart raced as Brutus turned his attention to his crotch, lathering up the area around his cock and balls. The anticipation was agonizing, his body begging for the man's touch. Brutus took his sweet time, shaving him with the same meticulous care as he had the rest of his body.
The razor was cold against his skin, sending a shiver through him as Brutus worked his way closer to his cock. Mike could feel the man's warm breath on his sensitive flesh, and it took all his self-control not to buck his hips in response.
When it was over, Brutus stepped back and surveyed his work. "Perfect," he murmured, his eyes raking over Mike's now-smooth body.
Mike felt a strange sense of pride, as if he'd passed some kind of test. The air was electric, charged with the promise of what was to come. He knew he was ready for whatever Brutus had in store for him.
Brutus leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You've been a good boy, pup". With that, he left the room, leaving Mike bound and exposed, his body taut with need. The anticipation was unbearable, but Mike knew it was only the beginning of a journey that would redefine him, body and soul.
When Brutus returned, he had a gleaming metal contraption in his hand--a chastity cage. Mike felt a thrill of fear as he watched the dominant man approach. Brutus's eyes gleamed with excitement as he placed the cold metal over Mike's swollen, hairless, cock, the bars of the cage pressing against his sensitive skin. Mike whimpered as the cage was locked into place, his cock now trapped and unable to harden completely. The sensation was maddening, a constant reminder of his newfound vulnerability.
Next, Brutus turned his attention to Mike's ass, lubing up a large buttplug with a slickness that made Mike squirm. He took a deep breath as Brutus began to insert the plug, the pressure building as it stretched him open. The moment the plug was seated inside him, Mike's body jolted with pleasure, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum into the chastity device. The feeling was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that he'd never experienced before.
Brutus stepped back again, and this time, he led Mike to a full-length mirror in the corner of the room. The sight that greeted him was unfamiliar--his body now a canvas of bare, smooth skin, the chastity cage a stark reminder of his submission. Mike's eyes widened as he took in his reflection, his cock trapped and helpless, the metal bars glinting in the dim light. The buttplug filled him completely, and the combination of sensations made his knees wobble. Less than an hour ago Mike had been a burly, hairy bear, but the sight before him now was very different: a hairless and submissive locked little boy.
Brutus stepped behind him, wrapping his arms around Mike's waist and pulling him back against his firm, leather-clad body. He whispered in his ear, "You look so good like this. So obedient, so eager to please. This is just the start of what I have in store for you."
Mike's breath caught as Brutus's hand reached down to cup his caged cock, sending waves of pleasure through him despite the confinement. He leaned back into the man's embrace, feeling the warmth of his breath on his neck as the master's grip tightened, his fingertips pressing into the sensitive flesh of his hip.
"You're mine now," Brutus murmured, his voice a seductive purr. "And I'll make sure you never forget it."
With a firm grip on the leash, Brutus led Mike back to the main part of the bar. The crowd parted as they made their way through, the other patrons' eyes raking over Mike's new, hairless and caged form with a mix of curiosity and lust. Mike felt a strange thrill at the attention, his heart racing with excitement and fear. He knew he was being displayed, a trophy of the dominant man's power.
Brutus stopped at a table where several other leather-clad men sat, their eyes flickering with interest as they took in the sight of Mike, bound and helpless. "Gentlemen," Brutus announced, "meet my new pup."
The room was suddenly silent, all eyes on the two of them. Mike felt his cheeks burn, but the heat in his ass and the constant throb of his trapped cock reminded him of his place--a willing plaything for these men to use and enjoy. Brutus sat, pulling Mike onto his lap, the plug shifting slightly with the movement, sending sparks of sensation through his body.
One of the men leaned in, his breath hot on Mike's ear. "Looks like you've got yourself a keeper," he said with a knowing smirk. Mike felt a shiver run down his spine as the reality of his situation sank in. He was no longer just Mike, the submissive hairy man. He was Brutus's property, a living embodiment of submission and desire.
The night grew late, the air thick with lust and the throb of music. Mike remained on Brutus's lap, his newly-smooth body a playground for the man's hands, his mind a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. Every touch, every command, brought him closer to the edge, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum into the cage.
Brutus leaned in, his teeth grazing Mike's earlobe. "You're doing so well," he whispered, the words a warm caress in the cool bar air. "But your training has only just begun."
Mike nodded, his breath hitching as the cage was snapped shut around his sensitive cock and balls. The cold metal pressing into his skin was a stark contrast to the warm, wet heat of Brutus's hand, and he whimpered as the man adjusted the fit, ensuring it was snug without being painful. Brutus stepped back, admiring his work with a smirk that sent a bolt of both fear and excitement through Mike's body. The chastity cage was a symbol of his new status--his desires now under the control of this powerful, dominant man.
"Look at yourself," Brutus said, guiding Mike to the mirror. The reflection staring back at him was unrecognizable--his body smooth and hairless, the cage gleaming in the dim light. His cock, though trapped, was still hard, a testament to the arousal that thrummed through him. The buttplug filled him up, stretching his ass and sending delicious waves of pleasure that mingled with the ache in his caged member.
The room grew silent as the other men took in the sight of Mike's transformation. Their eyes were hungry, but it was Brutus's gaze that held him captive. The man leaned in, his breath hot against Mike's cheek as he whispered, "You're going to be the talk of the town, pup. Everyone will know who you belong to."
Mike's knees trembled as he felt the leather leash being attached to the ring of his chastity cage. The weight of it, the knowledge that he was now literally led around by his cock, was exhilarating. Brutus tugged gently, and he stumbled after him, the plug shifting with every step. They wove through the crowded bar, the eyes of the other patrons burning into him as he passed. The sensation of being so exposed, so completely dominated, was like nothing he'd ever felt before.
Brutus settled at a table with his friends, pulling Mike onto his lap. The leather of the chairs was cold against his bare skin, and the men around him began to stroke and touch him, their hands exploring his new, smooth body. Each caress, each squeeze of his caged cock, brought him closer to the edge. He could feel the pre-cum leaking out of the cage, coating the metal bars, a silent testament to his desperation.
The conversation around the table grew more heated, the men discussing scenes and limits, their eyes never leaving Mike. Brutus's hand remained firm on his cock, keeping him at that delicious precipice without allowing him to come. Mike's mind was a blur of pleasure and need, his body responding to every command without thought.
The night went on, a blur of sensations and new experiences. Brutus never allowed him to cum, the chastity cage a constant reminder of his place. When the bar finally closed, and they made their way to a quiet corner of the city, Mike was a trembling mess of desire, his body aching for release.
Brutus led him to a dark alley, the rain now a gentle patter against the pavement. He unlocked the cage, and Mike's cock sprang free, painfully hard and sensitive. Brutus's mouth closed around the tip, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he sucked greedily. Mike's eyes rolled back in his head, his body jerking in response, the orgasm building like a storm within him.
But just as he was about to peak, Brutus pulled away, the cage snapping shut once more. "Not yet," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. "There's still so much more to learn."
Mike whined, his body a taut bowstring of need. Brutus's laugh was low and dark, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. "Patience, pup. Patience." With a final tug on the leash, he disappeared into the night, leaving Mike kneeling in the alley, his shaved and vulnerable body trembling with unspent desire, his heart racing with anticipation for the journey ahead.
The next evening, Brutus arrived at Mike's apartment, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Mike's heart raced as he let him in, his eyes locked onto the bag, wondering what new toys or torments it contained. Brutus took a seat on the couch, his booted feet resting on the coffee table, his leather-clad body a stark contrast to the mundane setting.
"Strip," he ordered, and Mike obeyed without hesitation, peeling off his clothes and dropping to his knees. Brutus reached out and began to caress Mike's hairless skin, his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes that made him squirm. The touch was gentle, almost loving, but it only served to highlight the cold steel of the chastity cage that surrounded his cock.
Brutus's hand grew bolder, his fingers dancing over Mike's nipples, tweaking them gently before moving lower to trace the outline of the cage. Mike's breath hitched, his body responding despite the constraints. He watched in the mirror as his cock grew, straining against the metal bars, begging for release. Brutus chuckled, his eyes dark with desire. "Such an eager boy....."
Brutus continued, each stroke a little harder, a little faster. Mike's eyes watered, but he didn't dare move or protest. The sensation was exquisite, pushing him closer to the edge of his endurance. And with every stoke, his cock grew more desperate, the cage a cruel prison for his need.
The room was filled with the sound of leather on flesh, the scent of lube and sweat. Brutus's hand never left Mike's exposed body, stroking, teasing, pushing him to the brink. And then, just as Mike thought he couldn't take anymore, the orgasm ripped through him, his body spasming despite the cage. He came, his seed trapped within the metal, the sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
Brutus's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched Mike's body tremble. "Good boy," he said, his voice thick with lust. "But remember, your pleasure is mine to give or withhold." He leaned in and kissed Mike, a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a promise of the power dynamics that would define their relationship from this moment on.
One night, Brutus took him to a private club, a place where the air was thick with the scent of leather and desire. Mike felt like prey, his bare, shaved skin exposed to the hungry gazes of the men around them. Brutus had him kneel beside him, the leather of the couch sticking to his skin, his cock straining against the cage.
As they watched scenes unfold before them, men bound and used, Mike felt a strange sense of belonging. This was his world now, a world of submission and control. And as Brutus's hand found its way to the cage, stroking him gently, Mike knew he'd never been more alive. He was a hairless pup, eager for whatever his master had in store, and the thought filled him with a fierce pride.
And as the days grew into weeks, Mike found that his body had become a canvas for Brutus's desires, a living testament to his submission. Each stroke of the razor, each snug fit of the chastity device, brought him closer to a place he'd never dared to explore. Brutus's hand on his bare skin was like a brand, marking him as property, and Mike reveled in it.
One evening, as Brutus sat in a chair, watching him with hooded eyes, Mike felt a tremor of anticipation run through him. The cage had become a part of him, a constant reminder of his place, a symbol of his craving for his master's touch. Brutus stood, the leather of his pants creaking as he approached, his hand reaching out to trace the contours of Mike's body.
Mike's breath grew ragged as Brutus's fingers danced over his freshly shaved skin, tracing the contours of his chest and stomach. The master's touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him despite the cold steel of the chastity cage. Brutus's hand moved lower, skimming over his thighs and the base of the plug that filled him, causing Mike's cock to throb painfully within its metal confines.
Brutus chuckled at his pup's desperation, his grip on the cage tightening. "You want to come so badly, don't you?" His voice was a dark purr, full of the power that Mike now craved. He nodded, his eyes pleading.
The dominant man's hand began to stroke Mike's cock through the cage, his movements deliberate and maddeningly slow. The metal was slick with pre-cum, a testament to his pup's eagerness. The pressure grew, the need for release becoming almost unbearable. Mike felt his orgasm building, his body taut as a bowstring.
With a sudden jerk of his hips, Mike came, his seed spurting into the cage, filling the small space with the scent of his desire. The contractions of his cock were painful against the metal bars, but he couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. Brutus's eyes never left him, a smug smile playing on his face as he watched his pup's climax.
The room was silent, the only sound the panting of Mike's breath. Brutus stepped closer, his hand still wrapped around the cage, his thumb tracing the outline of Mike's trapped member. "You're mine," Brutus murmured against his skin, his grip tightening on Mike's neck. "And when I say you can come, that's when you come. Understand?"
Mike nodded, his eyes glazed with pleasure. He felt the cage being removed, his cock finally free but still sensitive from its confinement. Brutus leaned in and took his pup's mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, the taste of his own release still on Mike's lips.
Mike whimpered, his eyes wide with need. "Yes, Sir," he managed to say, his voice a mere breath. Brutus's grip loosened slightly, his thumb tracing the pulse point in Mike's throat.
"Good boy," he said, his tone approving. But the moment of tenderness was short-lived. Brutus stepped back, his expression darkening. "You've been a bad pup," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You didn't wait for my permission."
Mike swallowed hard, his arousal mixing with fear. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'll do better."
Brutus's eyes narrowed, his hand coming down to squeeze Mike's cock hard. "You will," he said, his voice a promise. "Because you know what happens to bad pups."
Mike nodded, his body trembling slightly. He knew the routine now, the dance of punishment and reward that was a cornerstone of their relationship. He'd been eager to please, to prove himself, and in doing so, he'd overstepped. But the thought of the punishment to come only made his cock throb anew.
Brutus reached into the bag, pulling out a set of leather cuffs and a ball gag. "You're going to learn control," he said, his voice firm. "And if you're a good boy, I might just let you cum again."
Mike nodded eagerly, his body already responding to the idea of the impending punishment. He knew it would hurt, but the pain was part of the thrill, part of the dance. He watched as Brutus secured the gag in his mouth, the leather pressing against his teeth, silencing his voice.
With a firm grip, Brutus pulled Mike over his knee, his hand moving to the base of the plug. Mike tensed, waiting for the inevitable, his eyes watering in anticipation. The plug was removed with a pop, the sudden emptiness making him gasp around the gag. He felt his master's hand come down hard on his bare ass, the impact resonating through his body. The pain was immediate, a white-hot agony that made his eyes roll back in his head.
The spanks fell like a metronome, each one more punishing than the last. Mike's body jerked with every strike, his skin burning, his muscles clenching around nothing. Tears began to stream down his face, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. His ass was a canvas of pain, each smack a masterstroke that brought him closer to the edge of his endurance.
"Count them, pup," Brutus ordered, his voice cold and unyielding. Mike nodded, his muffled voice recounting the blows as they fell. The pain grew more intense with each number, his ass a blaze of agony that seemed to consume him. His mind focused solely on the rhythm of the punishment, the sound of his master's hand, the feel of the leather against his skin.
He lost track after a while, the pain overwhelming his senses. All he knew was the heat, the tears, and the desperate need to please Brutus. His body was a wreck of sensation, a symphony of pain and desire that played out on the strings of his soul.
Ten minutes turned into fifteen, and still the spanking continued. Mike's ass was a bright red, the skin tender and bruised, but he didn't dare move. He knew his place, knew that he had to accept his punishment. His cries grew softer, morphing into whimpers, his body trembling with each blow.
When Brutus finally stopped, Mike was a sobbing mess, his body limp over the man's knee. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face a mask of pain and submission. The dominant man's hand rested on the small of his back, his breathing heavy, his grip firm.
"Look at me," Brutus said, his voice a gentle command. Mike lifted his head, his eyes red and wet with tears. Brutus reached down and removed the gag, tossing it aside.
"Say it," Brutus ordered. "Tell me why you're being punished."
Mike took a shaky breath, his voice thick with pain. "Because I'm a bad pup," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I came without permission. I need to be punished."
Brutus nodded, his hand moving to stroke Mike's hair gently. "Good boy," he murmured. "You're learning." Brutus stood, one hand still on Mike's back holding him in place, the other stroking the hairless area above Mike cock, "Now, let's see if you can behave for the next round."
The anticipation was almost too much, but Mike knew his place. He nodded, his body quivering with a mix of fear and excitement. Brutus's touch was a balm, soothing the fire in his ass, but also a promise of more to come.
The dominant man reached into the bag again, pulling out a thick, leather paddle. The sight of it made Mike's stomach drop, his cock twitch within the cage. He knew what was coming, knew he'd have to endure, to be a good pup.
Brutus leaned down, his breath warm against Mike's ear. "You can take this, boy" he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "You want to take this."
And with that, the paddle began to fall on Mike already reddened and shaven ass cheeks, each stroke a crescendo of pain that pushed Mike to his breaking point. Yet, with every tear, every gasp, he felt the bond between them grow stronger. He was Brutus's pup, and despite the pain and humiliation he wanted endure whatever discipline his master deemed necessary.
The sounds of the paddle meeting skin echoed through the room, a symphony of punishment that seemed to go on forever. Mike's cries grew more desperate, his body writhing over Brutus's knee. Yet, even as the pain mounted, he knew he'd never felt more alive, more connected. This was his place in the world, shaved, locked and helpless, serving the man who owned him.
When the paddling finally ceased, Brutus took Mike's trembling body and laid him face down on the table, his smooth, reddened ass on full display. The pup's sobs grew quieter, his body shaking from the intensity of his punishment. Brutus leaned over him, his hand gently stroking Mike's shaven chest and pubis as he whispered, "Good boy. You took it all."
Mike's breath hitched, his eyes squeezed shut. The pain was a living thing, a fiery presence that seemed to pulse in time with his racing heart. But he knew he'd earned this, that it was his place to suffer for his master's pleasure. And as the minutes ticked by, the agony began to recede, leaving behind a warm, pulsing ache that only served to fuel his need.
Brutus stepped away, and Mike heard the sound of a zipper being drawn down. He tensed, his body anticipating the next phase of his training. The master's cock was a hot, hard presence against his skin, and Mike knew he was about to be used. The thought made him whimper, his body reacting despite the pain. But Mike new that he wanted it, and pleasing his Daddy had become the most important thing in Mike's world.
Brutus's cock slammed into him, filling him completely, the stretch sending a fresh wave of agony through his bruised body. Mike's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth opening in a silent scream. He felt so full, so completely owned by this dominant man. And as Brutus began to thrust, each movement sending bolts of pleasure and pain through his abused ass, Mike knew he'd never felt so alive.
The fucking was brutal and relentless, Brutus's hips pounding into him with a force that made the table shake. Mike's cries grew louder, his voice hoarse from the screaming. Yet, with each thrust, he felt his master's grip on his hips tighten, a silent declaration of ownership. And as the orgasm built within him, the pain and pleasure swirling together in a dizzying maelstrom, Mike knew that this was what he was meant for--to have his badge of manhood shaved away, to be used, to be reborn in the crucible of his master's desire.
Finally, with a roar, Brutus came, filling Mike with his seed. The pup's own orgasm followed, a spasm of pleasure that tore through him, making his body jerk and spasm. He felt the warmth spread through him, a testament to his master's dominance.
When it was over, Brutus withdrew, his cock glistening with sweat and lube. He leaned down, his hand coming to rest on Mike's neck. "Good pup," he murmured, his voice filled with pride. "You've learned your lesson."
Mike's body was a wreck, but he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He'd endured, had proven himself worthy of his master's attentions. Brutus helped him to his feet, his strong arms wrapping around Mike's trembling body. For a brief moment, the pup felt safe, protected in the embrace of his master.
The illusion shattered as Brutus led him back to the playroom, his grip firm on the leash. The chastity cage was replaced along with the plug, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of his abused flesh. The plug was pushed in deep, the stretch making Mike's eyes water.
Brutus turned to the other men, his voice a low growl. "Who's next?"
The room was a blur of leather and desire as the other dominants stepped forward, eager to claim their turn with the new pup. Mike felt a mix of fear and excitement as he was passed from one muscular hairy bear to the next, the feel of each cock and spanking palm against his hairless ass pushing him further, testing his limits. His ass was a constant source of pain, but he bore it willingly, eager to serve. Mike felt a growing sense of belonging. He was a part of this world now, a willing participant in the dance of dominance and submission.
As the hours passed, Mike's cries grew hoarse, his body bruised and used. Yet, he never once forgot his place. He was a bad pup, in need of punishment, and he took each spank and load as a gift from his master. His mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, his body a canvas for the men's desires.
Finally, as the bar began to empty, Brutus took Mike back to the private booth. He unlocked the cage, freeing Mike's cock. It was painfully hard, a testament to his pup's endurance. Brutus stroked it gently, watching as Mike's eyes rolled back in his head.
"You've been a good boy," Brutus said, his voice soft. "You've earned your release."
With a flick of his wrist, the cage was removed, and Mike's cock sprang free, begging for attention. Brutus's hand wrapped around it, his grip firm and sure. Mike's legs trembled as Brutus began to jerk him off, his hand moving in time with the rhythm that had been etched into his soul.
The orgasm hit him like a freight train, his cum spurting across the leather surface. Brutus chuckled, his hand still moving, milking every last drop from his pup. Mike collapsed against him, his body trembling with exhaustion.
"You did well," Brutus whispered, his breath warm against Mike's ear. "So very well."
The words were a balm, soothing the raw edges of his soul. He knew he'd found his place in the world, in the arms of this dominant man who owned him body and soul. As the last patron left the bar, Brutus led Mike back to the changing booth, the leather of his harness creaking with each step.
"You like being my smooth boy don't you pup" asked Brutus. Mike could hardly manage ti meet his Daddy's eyes. He had loved being a confident, hairy man, but everyday the feel of having body hair become a more and more distant memory. Mike knew that the guys at the gym had noticed his transformation and pointed and laughed at him when he worked out and especially in the showers afterwards, but he couldn't help himself
"I love being your smooth boy, Daddy". Brutus stared, it was clear that he wanted more. "I.... I..... promise to keep myself hairless for you"
"Good boy" smiled Brutus, handing Mike a large tub of medicinal smelling cream. "Now rub this all over yourself, and we won't need to worry about shaving for a while"
Mike felt the cold cream spread over his skin, the sting as the hair dissolved beneath it, the pain a reminder of his submission. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling short stubble of his re-growing fur fall away. The process was both agonizing and liberating, a further shedding of his old self to make way for the new.
The depilatory cream worked its magic, maintaining Mike as a blank and hairless canvas. He looked at himself in the mirror, his reflection stark and alien. The burly, hairy man he once was had been further stripped away, leaving behind a vulnerable and hairless little boy. The pup within him had emerged, eager to serve and to be used.
He thought of the chastity cage, the constant throb of his trapped cock a reminder of his master's control. The idea of being kept hairless, of being completely at Brutus's mercy, filled him with a thrill that was almost too much to bear. He knew what was expected of him, knew that he must become a clean slate for his daddy's desires.
The cream washed away the last vestiges of his old life, leaving him bare and vulnerable. He felt a strange sense of rebirth, his identity now tied solely to the man who had claimed him. Brutus's hands were gentle as he helped him clean off the last of the cream, his touch a promise of what was to come.
Mike looked into the mirror again, his eyes meeting his reflection. He was no longer the man he had been before--he was a pup, a submissive creature of desire and need. His cock twitched in the cage, begging for release, a silent declaration of his loyalty and submission.
Brutus's voice was a soft growl in his ear. "Good boy," he said, his hands slowly circling Mike's baby smooth cock and balls."You're learning so quickly."
Mike nodded, his body trembling with a mix of excitement and fear. He knew the training would continue, that there was so much more to learn, so much more to endure. But he was eager to please, eager to be the perfect pup for his daddy.
The night ended with Mike curled up at Brutus's feet, his hairless body sore and used. He watched as his master cleaned up the playroom, the quiet efficiency of his movements a stark contrast to the chaos of earlier. Each action was a testament to his dominance, each gesture a silent command that Mike eagerly obeyed.
As the dawn broke, Brutus unlocked the cage, freeing Mike's cock once more. He stroked him gently, his eyes never leaving Mike's face. The pup's breath hitched, his body responding to the touch despite the pain. The orgasm washed over him, a wave of pleasure that seemed to cleanse him of his sins.
"You're mine," Brutus murmured, his hand still wrapped around Mike's cock. "Now and always."
Mike nodded, his eyes shining with love and devotion. He knew he belonged to this man, knew that he would do anything to stay by his side.
The next morning, Mike awoke in Brutus's bed, his body sore but his spirit soaring. He knew that today was the first day of the rest of his life, a life of submission and pleasure, of pain and love. He looked down at his bare skin, now totally hairless. A thrill went through him as he thought about exposing himself to all the muscular and hairy men at his gym. He was a hairless pup now, and he would do anything to stay that way.
As Mike stepped into the shower, the water beating down on his hairless body, he thought of the night before, the way Brutus had used him, owned him. It was a feeling he craved, a connection so deep it was almost spiritual.
As he toweled off, his skin was smooth and bare, just as Brutus liked it. The pup felt a thrill of excitement, knowing that he was truly becoming the perfect submissive for his master. He stepped into the bedroom, the leather gear laid out for him. He knew what was expected--his training was never truly over.
Brutus looked up as he entered, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Look at my beautiful, hairless boy," he said, his voice thick with lust. Mike felt his cock twitch in response, despite the chastity cage. He was eager to please, eager to show his master how much he'd learned.
The day was a blur of chores and training, Brutus pushing him to his limits. The cage was a constant presence, a reminder of his submission. Each time he felt the urge to touch himself, to seek relief, he was denied. The frustration built within him, a delicious agony that fueled his need.
Every week, Mike knew he must remain vigilant, must continue to purge himself of his natural state. So, every Monday, he retreated to the bathroom, applying the cream with a sense of ritual. He felt any beginnings of hair on his body shrink away, revealing the smooth pup beneath. It was a painful process, but one he endured with pride, knowing it was for his master's pleasure.
Brutus noticed the change, the dedication in his pup's eyes. He rewarded him with a gentle pat on the head, a soft word of praise that sent Mike's heart soaring. The pup knew he wanted to be the perfect boy for his dominant Daddy.
END