Homo Depot Punishment 3
by Mudcub
stories@mudcub.com
It's a great scene. a garage stinking to high heaven. A Master (me) with a shit-covered dick that's been in his boy's ass and mouth, sticking out of a pair of stained and dirty levis. The boy (you), spent and tired, ass burning red, covered in shit, sitting submissively in the corner.
I throw your boots and socks back at you and tell you to put them on. Out of the corner of my eye, I see yous hands wander reflexively down to your balls, trying to sooth away the hurt that's building from the hose-clamp around your scrotum. Without turning around, I growl at you not to touch yourself. You jump, and I bet you think I have eyes in the back of my head. I don't boy. i just know slaves. I've done scenes like this many times. You respectfully remember your position, and put your hands behind your back.
I finish putting away the used toys, and get a small piece of hardware out of the Home Depot bag: an s-curve hook. I see a look of fear in your eyes and you wonder where tha hook is going to go. Slide down your peeslit? Pierced through your nipples? Neither, boy.
I have you stand up, your hands behind your back. You do so, a little unsteady. I get on my knees in front of you, kneeling in your ass-slop, and fix the hook to the hoseclamp that's around your balls. I order ya to spread your legs out a bit more. When you don't obey fast enough, I give the hoseclamp a good yank. That gets your attention, and you spread your legs out wide. I take the bucket that's half-filled with shit and piss from your ass, and attach it to the hook. Man, that must be about ten pounds. I see your face wince as you feel the weight of it pull on your balls, swinging between your legs.
I turn away from you and walk out of the garage. You stand there for a minute until I bark at you "Git movin, shithead". You follow me back out through the side door, waddling with big wide steps. I know that every movement causes the bucket to yank painfully on you. I takes considerably longer for you to cover the thirty foot distance than it does for me, and when you come outside squinting in the afternoon sun, you see me fucking around with a new garden hose. Thanks for buying me that, too. Real nice of you. I needed a new garden hose. Maybe I'll beat you with it later.
Instead, I motion that you're supposed to stand next to the garden I've been planting. I throw you a new shovel (thanks again), and tell you to start digging a hole. I pull out a new folding chair (see a pattern here? I love Home Depot) and sit down in the shade, watching you work. I shuck off all my clothes, and lay there naked - taking in the summer air, and sniffing my pits. I get a cigar from the nearby table, and light up. I'm smoking and enjoying this. I love work. I could watch someone do it all day.
Digging must be a bitch with that bucket dangling between your legs. I see you jump in pain whenever it hits your legs and pull suddenly. I warn you that any slop that falls out of the bucket will get licked up - giving you a mouthful of dirt in the process. I see you dig a little more carefully and slowly, like a good boy. When you got a hole up to your knees and about around as the shovel's length, I tell ya to stop.
I drag over a bag of fertilizer. Home Depot didn't have my favorite kind - raw horseshit - so your credit card was used for a thirty pound bag of manure. I open it up and pour it into the hole around your boots. The stink of it make me recoil, but I imagine you're getting pretty used to it by now.
You are now standing outside in a pit full of manure with a bucket of piss and shit suspended from your balls. You are covered in shit and stink to high heaven, though the worst of it has sweated off in the summer sun. Still, the stench remains clinging to every part of your body and face. You are panting and out of breath - more outdoor work would be good for you, I note. Guess we need more trips to Home Depot. I could use the stuff at any rate. I go get up, and hook up the garden hose. Ever feel the water from an outdoor spigot in the summertime? It's fucking cold. And you feel that instantly when I blast you in the face with a powerful stream of water.
It almost knocks you off your feet - and you scream with the sudden shock of it. You drop the shovel, trying to ward off the water with your hands. But that doesn't work. I soak you head to toe, and order you to turn around. It's tough with the bucket in the way, and the cold water causing you to jump, but you obey me. I like this - soaking down my pig while smoking a cigar. It's lot of fun.
You are almost clean by the time I aim the hose downward, into the hole you dug. You are shivering with the change in temperature, and are holding yourself with your arms over your chest. Your boots start to stick in the mud I'm creating. Every time you move your feet, it churns the manure and water into a nasty foul sludgy mess. Then, I surprise you once again, I order you to put your arms over your head. You do it, look at me with a questioning look on your face.
I move the hose so it starts to fill up the bucket. The change in weight is instantly noticeable. It feels like I've just dropped lead weights into the bucket. You let out a low animal bellow as the water climbs up higher and higher in the bucket.
Damn, I wish I hadn't left the camera in the garage. You are trembling now, and your legs are shaking. I know this hurts boy. Suffer for me. Eventually, the water crests the top, and starts to spill over into the hole. You take about ten seconds of this, and then you fall to your knees, the bucket spilling shit and piss into the hole. You are almost sobbing as I keep the hose trained on your back and head.
After a minute I shut of the hose. You are crumpled into a ball, shaking. The shit is about a foot deep - so if you were once clean from the water, you're messed up again. The mud is way over the top of your boots, soaking your socks completely. I coil the hose, and tell you to lay there. Wallow in the manure like the piggy you are. I want you coated head to toe again, and I walk back into the garage while you wiggle in the mud, slathering yourself in the cold dirt and muck.
I grab the camera from the garage - I gotta git a picture of this. Plus, I grab something else you can't see right now since I hold it behind my back. I tell you to stand up. You are as muddy as a tarbaby, and I snap a few photos of your condition. It will be fun to look at next week as I jack off. I order you out of the hole, and then you see what I brought out from the garage.
It's another diaper - this time a clean one.
Your dick gets hard. You are such a fucking pig. Diapers get you so excited. I know all your buttons to push, and this is a big one. I throw the diaper open onto the dirt, and order you to lay down on it. Goddamn, you're a mess. It takes a lot of duct tape, around and around, to secure it into place. Then over that, a pair of plastic pants to stop leaking. Your dick is hard as a rock, so I give it a few squeezes through the diaper. You love that.
I have you stand up again, dripping filth. The diaper holds - I put enough duct tape on it to hold several diaperloads. This gives me an idea, so I start grabbing handfuls of mud, and shoving it down the diaper. I cram lots of it in the front and back, down your crack, packed around your balls. Soon the diaper is bulging out obscenely, and it's real heavy on your ass. Just the way I like it.
You've been through a lot today, and the afternoon sun is starting to set. But you've got a lot more work to do. I explain to you the rest of the day's routine. I've got a garden to plant this spring, and you look like free labor to me. That's what slaves are for. It's not like I'm paying you. You're paying me.
Remember those flowers you bought at Home Depot? They would look great on the side of the garage. Real festive like. And I will sit back in the shade, drinking beers, watching you work half-naked. Clothed only in shit and piss and mud, and a diaper. You really look obscene, and that's why it's fun to watch you totter back and forth in the stuffed diaper, groaning a little as you bend over to poke another petunia in the ground, moaning as you dig a hole with the shovel.
Lucky for you that you bought me a wheelbarrow to cart the mud and shit from the hole you dug over to the flowerbed to use as fertilizer. It takes you over two hours to complete the chore; it takes me over a six pack and two cigars to watch you do it.
New garden hose $30
New shovel $25
New folding chair $30
Bag of fertilizer $10
Petunias $10
Wheelbarrow $40
Sitting in the shade watching my diaperboy to all the yard work
. priceless
If you're keeping score, that's six more Home Depot items down, with eight to go. We're just about halfway done, boy, and we got a whole evening and the next day to play.