Once again, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. The narrative that follows did not happen to me or to anyone else by me. Don't contact Me to meet this slave. DO contact Me if you want to become this slave. Also contact me with any praise, criticism, or suggestions. All feedback is good.
And don't worry -- this is not the end of the story. Only the end of the beginning.
Satanic Slave - Part 5
My muscles were too weak to easily stand on my own. Two Men lifted my body over Their shoulders and dragged a faggot, me, out of the room. I was gradually able to assist as we walked through a series of halls and rooms into a very plain, long hall with locked doors on either side.
My arms will pulled out to either side and my wrists locked into place. Similarly my legs were spread-eagled and ankles cuffed into place. The headphones were plugged into the wall and once again His voice led me further into submission.
"If a faggot is unworthy to be one of Our suckholes, it is placed here in the antechamber. This hall separates the fagslaves' quarters from the Men's entry and changing rooms. Consider it purgatory, faggot.
"Although faggots have no concern for time, Men have busy lives and higher priorities than some pathetic whorehole. So a faggot stationed here has a single function: to announce the time to every Man who walks by."
Okay, I thought. Simple enough. Just get me my watch.
But of course it wasn't that easy. Instead I became an organic component in some Rube Goldberg type device. Electrical contacts were attached to my body in dozens of locations: fingertips, toes, nipples, pits, the back of the balls, and slid inside the fagdick and faghole. A ring was locked around my nutsack and a large net was attached to that ring. What the fuck? Finally, a bizarre device was placed in front of me. A long tube spiraled down from just below the ceiling. In this tube were a series of identical metal spheres, each about the size of a golf ball. The bottom of the tube was slightly above my waist. Between me and the tube was a vertical pole. Atop that pole was a horizontal pole with a small cup. The cup was rotating around the vertical pole so that at one side it would be under the bottom of the spiral tube and at the other side it would be just above the net hanging from my nuts.
Next to this complicated contraption was a simple stand with a red button.
I chuckled to myself, knowing this wasn't going to be good. One of the Men flicked a switch. The Man's Voice returned reminding a faggot just what its place is in this society. "A faggot is a pathetic anti-man. A faggot's only purpose is to worship Cock." And the electrodes started firing off with a mild current. Nothing painful -- just enough to keep a faggot alert.
Then a Man stepped in front of me, folded His arms, and clicked His toes against the floor impatiently. The current flowing through the electrodes increased a bit, alerting a faggot to His presence.
Huh? What was I supposed to do? What the fuck could I do? I couldn't move a fucking muscle.
His right hand tapped his left arm just above the wrist. Ah, he wants to know what time it is. How the fuck should I know? I've been locked in a box for weeks, months, who knows how long?
"Sir, I don't know what time it is."
That earned a faggot a punch in the guts. Over the headphones I heard the Man roar, "Show Me some fucking respect, faggot."
Sir, a faggot doesn't know what time it is, Sir."
The man shrugged, shook his head, and pressed the red button. The electrodes' power shot up and they continued their random dance across a faggot's flesh for a minute or two. A faggot groaned in agony.
The Man pulled His sleeve to reveal His watch and looked behind me, nodding. A single crack of a whip exploded on a faggot's back. He walked away and the current ebbed to its original level.
And the rotating cup went into motion. As it passed under the tube, a single ball dropped into the cup. The cup slowly, tauntingly slowly, spun around until it was above the net. The sphere dropped into the net, tugging on a faggot's nuts. It was a little uncomfortable, but not all that bad.
And the cup then spun slowly back to the tube and retrieved another ball.
Uh-oh. Eventually a second ball dropped into the net, joining its friend and doubling the pressure on a faggot's balls. A faggot tried to count the spheres In the tube and couldn't. I just knew it was a lot.
It was enough to drive a faggot insane -- watching this cup slowly spin, adding a continual flow of heavy metal to hang from my aching nuts. I was biting my lip to the point of drawing blood and it looked like half of the balls were still in the tube. By the time the last orb dropped into the net, I would have been doubled over in agony if I'd had that ability. All I could do, though, was sob like a pathetic loser.
Suddenly the bottom of the net emptied and the balls were carried up a belt. I yelped in relief only to scream again as the whip sliced into my back. Not once, but twice. The tube was reloaded from the belt and the first orb was slowly spinning toward the net and my aching balls.
A little later, a Man entered from the door to the left. As He passed in front of a faggot (yes, me -- I was the only faggot there), the electricity rose a little to let me know I had a job to do. But I had no idea how to complete the goddamn task.
"SIr, a faggot doesn't know what time it is, Sir."
He pressed the button and a faggot screamed as electricity knifed into its flesh for a while. There was no fucking way to anticipate which electrode would fire or for how long it would last. All a faggot could do was dance as fingers, toes, nipples ... some part of its flesh was charged. These Men were smart enough, though, to have each nipple wired separately --- the current went through a nipple, not across the entire chest. That made it safer, sure ... but it also concentrated the current on the most sensitive parts of a faggot's chest.
Meanwhile, the Voice inside a faggot's head: "A faggot is useless unless serving a Man. A faggot's esteem is based upon its ability to pleasure a Man. A faggot thinks only of how to bring a Man to orgasm."
This was unbearable. Just fucking unbearable. There was no fucking way to endure this. Just the mental torture of watching that cup rotate ever so slowly, like clockwork.
Like clockwork. Oh, Jesus. I'm the fucking clock.
I peered down into the net. Eight balls there now. I had just been whipped twice. Could it be?
A ninth ball dropped down. And a tenth. Eleventh. Twelfth. Taking what I assumed was a minute between each drop. And yes, it could very well be a total of 60 balls in that tube.
Finally a Man came in from the other side. The current altered me to His presence.
"Sir. The time is Two Twenty-five, Sir!" He smiled and crossed to the other side.
Holy fucking mother-of-God. I am reduced to a goddamn clock when just across one of these doors is the valhalla of a lifetime servicing Cock. I've got to bear this, I've got to make this work. I've got to prove myself worthy of these Men.
"Sir. The time is Five Forty-Seven, Sir!"
"Sir. The time is Eleven Fifty, Sir!"
"Oh, God, Sir. The time is Three Fifteen, Sir!"
"Oh, Please, Lord God, Sir. The time is Six Fifty-eight, Sir!"
I was exhausted. Sleep deprived. In absolute agony. But there was no fucking way I was going to fail these Men.
"Sir," "the time is " "Four o'clock" "Sir!"
Imagine being in this kind of mental and physical exhaustion. Knowing that in about 30 minutes the pain will be excruciating. A brief release while the hours are counted with whipstrokes to your back. And the process starts all over again for another hour. Constantly keeping track of how many of fifty-nine balls are hanging from your balls.
And the whole time, "A faggot's hole is in constant hunger for Cock. A faggot has no reason to live except as a Man's suckbitch."
After having been blissfuly unable to tell what time it was while in the cell, to simply exist in a state of "now" ... the structure of time had become literal torture. Shit. These guys were fucking geniuses.
Eventually another faggot was dragged into the hall and I was uninstalled. I wondered if there was some way I could cue him about his duty here, how to make it work. But no, he had to learn it on his own.
When I was kicked back into my cell, I was once again a total pussy, tears of joy rolling down my faggot face. I kissed the edge of the glory hole in joyous rapture. A Cock presented itself and a faggot sucked and worshipped like it had never known possible. A faggot thought it had shown gratitude before, but it hadn't even scratched the surface. "Dear Lord God, a faggot loves You, " it said to some stranger's Erection. And it had never been more true. Shortly thereafter, one Cock serviced and six hundred and sixty-five to go.
A faggot had reached a state of blissful, euphoric peace.