So, let's jump a few months forward from the rescue of bob. Given what had happened, the police force was more than willing to provide bob with time off to recover from what had happened. Sir Justin went back to work, but as the time for bob's leave was drawing to an end, he put his foot down.
"You're not going back. I TOLD you at one point, you were gonna become my housebitch, and it's time. " bob was ready to argue with Sir Justin's decision: he liked the job, he felt like he had recovered, and he wanted to go back. "Do I need to remind you what you are, sub boi?" Justin said as he folded his arms and looked at bob, who was naked except for his cage, and tied down to their bed. Sir Justin was swinging a pair of nipple clamps in his hand. "No Sir. You don't. I understand. You make the rules." "DAMN RIGHT I DO. And Rule 1: you're wearing these for a while. Rule 2: you're wearing THIS for a while" he smiled as he pulled out the gag he had custom made: the protuberance was the exact size and shape of Justin's cock. "And Rule 3. Your career as a police officer... is OVER."
And just like that, it was.
During his time off, bob did go for the modeling audition for the company that had been interested in hank. They LOVED him. They were clear: they had a darker, hairier model in mind, but they could build a campaign around bob. So, bob began modeling "clothes for the built everyday guy." His picture was all over social media, and of course, print media: magazines, catalogues, etc. Sir Justin was fine with this, until he wasn't. Then he ended that career too. The way he ended it: one day, before he left for work, he got bob dressed up in a white t shirt, camo pants, and took him, hands cuffed in front of him, into the city. They made their way to a "jeweler" Sir Justin knew. "It's time, boy. Why should hank have one and not you?" He stripped bob's t shirt, then he and the jeweler strapped bob's wrists to a chair. Then.. with the precision of his craft, the jeweler put a pierce in bob's right nipple and then... a bar, just like hank had, only the initials were "J" and "P."
It wasn't the only piece of jewelry that bob wore. Cam and Justin had talked about it, and decided that... it was too risky NOT to have both hank and bob fitted with traceable collars. There were many of them available, mostly for pets, but Cam suggested that he have hank design them. And he did. The collars not only had a tracing device, but they also had a device that would send a short shock through the wearer.
They all lived together at Justin's compound now: Sir Justin had been thinking that having the two butch subs together would create a whole lot of sexual energy in the compound, and he was right. The energy level was particularly high when he and Cam had bob and hank square off against each other in nude wrestling. The prize for winning was an hour without the cock cage on, and freedom to do whatever they winner wanted. It's fair to say that each stud won about half of their competitions. Sometimes, Sir Justin and Cam would add a special award for the winner: the loser would get tied down, and shaved by the winner. Both of the subs LOVED being able to shave the other.
bob tried to think back to a night when Justin had NOT fucked him after six months off the job, and he couldn't. During the day, he had to wear a butt plug. Justin expected a drink when he walked in the living quarters, and if it wasn't ready, well... sometimes bob's ass was red for two or three days after the beating.
And that's where we'll leave our four friends. Just one other thing to mention. As I write this, Dragon is at the national airport of the country to which he retired. He's got an open ended ticket to New York. As he told one friend: "I've got some property in NY, and I'm going back to get it."
Want a sequel? Let me know....