So Scott moved out. Danny told me that the straw that broke the camel's back was when Scott got back to their place showing off that he had my shirt after leaving me on the floor of some bathroom. He wouldn't say where. That made Danny furious—more furious than he was to begin with.
He didn't fight it out with Scott. He realized it was no sense arguing about it. So he just gave Scott a blunt warning:
"Scott, if you ever lay a finger on that boy again or even go near him or even say anything to him at all about being a slave or whatever---fuck, Scott, what I'm trying to say is just lay the fuck off. Don't go near the boy or interact in any way. If I find out you have, I'm going to turn you in. Don't we have enough fucking problems being gay in this school that we have to go off causing more? Fuck, man. Being a tough Dom is one thing, but "tough "doesn't mean "brutal." A tough Dom would never leave a sub alone in the condition you described---especially when said Dom was the one that put the sub into that condition! Once you're in a sadistic molesting mindset, things have gotten way out of hand. And that's what will probably end up being caricatured in most bdsm porn. If that's the way you want to interact with innocent sub newbies, then you and I simply cannot both be involved with the same person. So I don't care how pissed you get with me, I'm being completely serious right now: Don't fuck with that boy again. Not ever."
That was a great way to end a relationship without saying you're ending the relationship. Scott got the message loud and clear. He went to his room and made a couple calls. About forty minutes later, he came out of his room with a suitcase and a back pack. "I've found a new place to live. I'm heading over there now. I'll come over with a couple friends tomorrow while you're on campus. We'll clear out all my things. I'm just taken what I need for the next few days." Then he gave Danny a check for his share of the rent for the next three months—far more than Danny ever would even have asked for.
It was an amicable parting for two friends who realize they have two very incompatible ways of living out their relationships, whether sexual or not. All in all, it was quite an accomplishment. (The Author is patting himself on the back right now.)
So anyway, back to the story:
Danny came to pick me up late Friday afternoon after telling to pack a bag and laptop and books for the entire weekend. He was in a particularly happy mood. He told me that Scott must have skipped classes because he came to their suite with three other guys early Friday morning. When Danny got back from class every trace of Scott had been removed and his room thoroughly cleaned. Not only that, but he'd made some arrangement with the housing officials so that Danny could stay in the suite alone until graduation.
"Just goes to show you, little slaveboy, that deep down under all our masks and roles, most of us are really kind and considerate even when everything else about our lives is polarized and hostile. I'm a responsible Dom while he's a brute. Big difference. Incompatible difference. But that doesn't mean we have to be nasty to each other. After all, we're both Doms with different styles and outlooks. Far above faggot slaveboys like you, Mikey."
Mikey???!!!!!!!!!!! Scott told him he had renamed me. I guess Danny likes the name too. I'm glad. It makes me feel different when they call me Mikey. Like a much younger little brother (and hairless at that!), or a pet, just bought raw off the slave market then shaved and subdued. Fuck. Yes. That's what I am!!! Mikey. I am Mikey. That's the name I was given by the men who own me. But now Danny is my owner, I guess. Is that really how it goes? Guess I'll have to ask.
When we got to his dorm Danny has a couple conversations with the men who live there. Friendly ones. Never introducing me and them looking me up and down and wondering what I'm doing there, obviously a green freshman and why the fuck were Danny and Scott both interested in him for some reason? Their looks were so piercing that I naturally lowered my eyes and realized it felt good to be there like that—almost like some object he was bringing home and that was all they had to know.
Danny noticed how my demeanor had readjusted itself. I was in my total sub mind and he felt proud, as if my surrender that way was his own personal accomplishment, a sign that he had complete control over me and what I would become. Mind you, that not all these classmates of Danny's were gay and most of them didn't even have a clue of the existence of the Scene or what it's all about. I would give anything to know what was going through their heads. Maybe they did see me as a little brother.
On the way over in the car he asked a couple questions. Did I have work I needed to get done before Monday? (None!) How's my body feeling? (fine) . . . . things like that . . . . then told me about Scott . . . then . . . he expects to see me naked and down on the ground seconds after we got to the suite.
"Yes, Sir." Should I call HIM Master now? Dunno. Dunno fucking anything. Then I realized something: I realized that Danny wanted me to be safe and comfortable but still he wanted me to transform myself into the slave I'm meant to be.
"Should I call you Master now?" I asked. Danny reached over and put his hand on the back of my neck and slowly, gently, squeezed in a way that made me feel how much he wanted to own me. Just for a few seconds because he was driving, after all. But he got the message through to me.
"thank you, Master." And I really meant it. Let him possess me. Let me find out what it could be like, to be an owned bdsm slaveboy. Yes, Danny. Yes, Master. Please, Master. Please show me how to be. Please show me what to be, what to do, how to think, what to endure. Holy shit! Even just thinking like this gets me high. Oh, I need someone to take me down off the auction block and re-create me as a well-trained and totally broken slave.
We get to the door of the suite. Danny unlocks the door. I enter first and practically tear my clothes off, desperately needing be naked and humbled. As quickly as possible I grovel naked at his feet. He hums lightly. He's pleased. Yes!!!!!
"Crawl to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Stand only when necessary to obey my command." I hasten off as I hear him walking around looking things over. The place feels very different now. Unified and certified as Danny's home, all of it, and I'm part of the furniture somehow. But that's just stupid. I'm flesh and bones and heart and mind and submissive. And open. And wanting to feel him on me and in me somehow and wish so much he'd spank me to establish the hierarchy right from the beginning. Fortunately Scott didn't blister my ass again the other day. Danny can claim it for himself now.
I'm not sure if I'm allowed to have coffee with Danny. I put out just one cup. Then down on the floor again as he walks in. "You a coffee drinker? If so, I'd never keep it from you."
"Yes, Master, thank you."
"Then get up and set out another cup. You and I will drink coffee at the table as friends. Never doubt, however, that you are a slave. Sometimes I will treat you like a friend simply because it makes me feel good to do that. Your job is to reflect me back to me, if you understand.
"Either as a slave temporarily treated as a friend or just a slave unworthy to sit at table like a normal man."
Danny reaches out and ruffles my hair. "Such a delight to be able to train an intelligent slave, to enslave its mind along with everything else. Yes, Mikey, you put it accurately."
"Mikey is a slave. Mikey was born a slave but only awakened recently. Mikey has everything to learn. Mikey is not an ordinary man. Mikey is so much less than that."
"I feel like your words are stroking my cock for me, slaveboy. Let's fix our cups."
So that's what they do, and then sit. Mikey keeps his eyes lowered to his cup. Danny is pleased to see the slave's posture shows what it is, even when being allowed to sit at a table.
"I have an empty room now and it's spotless. I'm not sure how I will use it yet."
Mikey gets a silly notion and giggles.
"What?" asks Danny with an inquisitive tone.
"A picture came to mind: the entire floor was covered with ripped up newspapers and there's a water bowl on the floor in a corner. Place to store the dog."
Danny raises an eyebrow. "Animal. More evocative than `dog'. I'm not into puppy play or any of that stuff. If I ever hear you bark you'll be flogged. But an animal? Sure. You look like an ordinary twink but you're actually an animal who has the body of a human. Yes, that's the best way to describe you. Start thinking of yourself that way. Slave object."
Mikey's head couldn't have been hanging any lower than it already is as he sits there and sips his coffee across from Danny.
"Look up at me, Mikey."
Mikey raises his eyes.
"No. With your whole face, boy. I like your face. Let me see it. Later it will be covered with tears, I assure you. But now, just the simple face of a young slave relaxing with its Master's permission."
"It feels so funny sitting at the table naked."
"I wouldn't know. I'm usually clothed like a normal man. Usually only stripped to shower or to have a slave pleasure me."
Mikey makes a sarcastic face.
"You realize, of course, that if you make a face like that when down on the ground where you belong, you'd be setting yourself up for a great heap of pain. Little cane strokes all over your fucking body, for example, or maybe tied down to a table and covered with lit votive candles and watch the melting wax drip over onto your flesh."
"OMG"
"Spread your legs. Let me see what's going on down there."
Mikey is hard and dripping.
"Use your fingers to clean up your precum. Lick them clean. Keep doing it while we sit here."
Mikey sighs and realizes that even here Danny is breaking him down.
Danny just sits there enjoying his coffee, watching Mikey try to eat all his precum, which, of course, is making it flow even more.
"Gotta fucking cage that little dick, boy. Think I'll bring you to get fitted for one. Tomorrow. Get you a special collar as well."
Mikey closes his eyes. He's being overloaded with submissive hormones. The kind so many natural subs have that can only be activated by the right Master.
"Take a deep breath and release it. Then stand up, clean up in here then come crawling to me in the outer room." With that, Danny stands up and leaves the room. Quickly I rinse our cups, put them in the dishwasher, rinse out the coffee pot, wipe down the table. When I crawl to Danny, he's seated comfortably, barefoot. I know what that means. Without being commanded I grovel before him, put my tongue to the top of his toes and begin licking until he wiggles his toes. It take them into my mouth, one after the other, laving and sucking each as if they give my inner slave the nourishment it craves.
"Come up here, dear boy. Up into my lap." Danny's sweet voice draws my heart as well as my body as I clumsily try to get from his feet to his lap. He does much of the work until finally I'm cuddled in his lap with my head on his chest as he strokes me from the back of my neck all the way down to my sit bone. He snuggles into my neck and soon I realize that he's marking me with hickeys bites as his possession. I make sure my neck is open to his mouth giving him access wherever he wishes to go. The marking continues and I wonder if he's trying to put a slave collar around my neck made up of black and blue love bites. I don't think I will ever be able to forget what he's doing to my body and my soul all at the same time.
I was wrong. Just a few marks on my neck and he's moving me again and, uh-oh, he's laying me over his knees and I know what's coming next. "Relax every single muscle wherever I touch you and keep them relaxed. Open yourself to me, Mikey." He starts caressing my ass cheeks all around and even bit down the back of my legs. I let him invade my skin and muscles. (As if I have a choice!)
Slowly the slaps begin. No spot is touched more than once, but each successive blow from his hands is a bit more severe. "Keep breathing, slave. Do not tense up or I'll have to fetch something that will hurt a hell of a lot more than I'm hurting you right now." The spanking continues. The spanking intensifies until I realize that he's really claiming me and that he apparently enjoys hurting me and feeling the way my body reacts.
"This is far more intimate than a whip," Danny tells me. "This way you know I'm the one who's beating you, who's teaching you that you a Master is taking possession of you in the way only a true Master can do."
I'm crying out now. "That's right, Mikey. Sing for your Daddy. Tell me I can do anything I want to you. Cry, baby. You need to let the damn burst so I can clean you out and take possession of you. Don't hold back, slaveboy. I can make this hurt so much more than I already am."
He reaches over to the end table by his chair. He opens a drawer and takes something out. I feel him rubbing my ass with it. It feels like the back of something . . maybe a hairbrush?
He taps the hairbrush to the slave's backside already painted red by the Master's hands. The crack of the brush on my flesh makes a different sound and gets a different kind of cry out of me. Faster and faster, harder and harder and faster and harder and quicker and the bites from the brush make my flesh glow as if it being covered with live coals and I scream out loud and burst down sobbing as he puts down the brush and touches various spots on my whipped ass with the tips of his fingers and it feels like he's writing on my flesh with a pen that's actually tipped by ice. Hot and cold and so very sore and blazing and I choke on my sobs until at last he decides he's gotten his message across. He stops thrashing me and practically rolls my body off his lap and onto the floor. As soon as I'm down I scamper as quickly as I can and use his toes to wipe the tears and snot from my face then suck it all from the toes of the man who has just given me the most severe thrashing I have ever had in my life.
I am thoroughly broken, I think, not realizing just how naïve I am. This is only the beginning. And to make things even more intense, I realize that beyond any shadow of a doubt I am truly falling in love with him. Danny will be the great love of my life. That will never change.
He gently moves my mouth aside and stands up. He walks away from the chair, towards the center of the room until finally he stands still about 4 feet away from me.
"I have to piss."
Despite the knot that tightens deep within me, I turn myself around and practically slither towards him until my mouth is at his feet again. Pressing down with my arms, I raise myself up until I'm able to put my mouth around the end of his flaccid dick which he managed to take from his pants. I know he knows this is new for me. I also know that he doesn't care. He's decided to conquer me this way. He knows what this will do to me for him to use me this way. No discussion, no slow and gradual bit of training. Nope. He wants this. He will make me take it.
I feel him squirt into my mouth and my heart breaks as I realize that he is determined to break my will to resist even if it means I decide to escape this bondage he is putting upon me. The squirt turns into a flow and I dare not think about what his happening, what I'm beginning to desperately gulp it down without making any of it spill. This is it. The naked sobbing slaveboy with its ass on fire is having the fires put out with the Master's piss but it only serves to further intensify the nature of the slavery being impacted in this slave's being. Shit: it is so difficult to find the words to adequately expose the full meaning of what is happening as the Master relieves himself while the slave takes onto itself the role it will now be assuming time and time again in its miserable life.
The thought comes to my mind from something I either heard or read in the past: "This is supposed to be fun for the both of us."
Really? It's only when the Master has been completely relieved and has me clean the end of his dick before he puts it away again that I realize that yes, indeed, this has been fun. I never realized before just how much fun this could be despite any of the circumstances. He has claimed me as his own. I am home now. Naked, beaten, humbled, used, possessed, owned. Even dehumanized, some might say. As for me, all I can say is that I am finding what my spirit has always been looking for.
Later that night he teaches me how to clean myself out so I can make of my gut a receptacle for his throbbing penis. To put it a bit more crudely, he makes me get ready for him to fuck the daylights out of me without having to literally fuck the shit out of me. He trains me to get the shit out of me before he take possession of me.
He is very gentle about it. I can't say for sure what is more pleasurable, the slow deep and gentle strokes with which he fucks my virginity away or the honey filled sound of his voice as he makes love to me verbally and existentially. "You are mine, Mikey. Tonight you exist only to please me. That is the best part of your existence, the part you spend learning to become my slave. I make you my own. I take your freedom from you and replace it with iron bonds around your heart and mind and soul as I lock you in my iron prison far from any hope of ever being rescued or set free. I own you, faggot, and you are precious to me." I know a lot of this is unrealistic and exaggerated, but nonetheless it feels like he's strumming the strings of my heart and causing my mind to absorb the alpha power from which he speaks to me as he continues to drive his erect flesh deep inside me.
He offers me a chance to shower but I'm too exhausted to stand up again. I fall asleep while he showers with the taste of lube in my mouth, the lube I licked from his collapsed cock after he was done fucking me for the fourth time that night. I am inside out for him. I am nothing apart from him because he has taken everything from me that he has no longer needs to possess and mark as his own. He has hollowed me out and so I sleep and let my body replenish itself and get itself for another day serving him. That is the meaning of my existence now, whether just for the weekend . . . or for life. Being eighteen years old, my virginity taken, my soul possessed, my body denuded and beaten and possessed. This is my lot. This is the way the gods are looking out for me and protecting me. I've been rebirthed by Danny. Danny. Every Danny has a claim on me now.
So that's all for now. Hope you like how it's developing. My name's Greg. ogt009966@gmail.com Write me any time, please?
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