Thanks for the feedback, it is genuinely appreciated. Please remember if you can to donate to Nifty http://donate.nifty.org/
"Just because you own something it doesn't mean you have to use it, just make sure that if you do need to, its close by and ready to use" Mr Traynor was in deep conversation with the man sitting next to him
It was early evening, we were in Mr Traynor's living room.
I had spent much of the day since I spoke to Sir in darkness in Mr Traynor's basement. Either standing up and bound to a St Andrew's Cross, or tied to the top of the cages that he had down there. What was common to both was that he had clamped my nipples , and every half hour he would come down and give the connecting chain a pull before adding an extra weight. The rest was left to gravity. By the time he allowed me to crawl back up to the ground floor. The clamps still attached my mouth was dry from the whimpering.
The clamps were still in place whilst I crouched down and ate my lunch, another bowl of dried dog food. As I swallowed the last mouthful both disgusted at the taste and thankful that Mr Traynor was looking after me, be grabbed me by the hair pulling me upwards. He had changed into a pair of leather trousers, the crotch area prominent and padded, it was difficult to say how much was material and how much was down to his large dick. He slowly unscrewed the clamps they were not fully removed,
"Ready?" Before I even had a chance to even think what the answer was he yanked the chain connecting the clamps, causing me to scream and yell "Fuck" "Bastard" Instantly I knew I was in the wrong, and said "Sorry Sir"
"I'll overlook that for now, as I've got other plans for you " He had by now crouched down and was looking me directly in the eye as his leather gloves tweaked my nipples. He then pinched them and maintained the grip. "Say please, and I'll let them go, the longer you wait the better" He twisted the nipples clockwise and then anticlockwise, repeating this very few seconds. I took a deep breath and tried to put up with the agony for as long as possible. "Sir, please release me Sir|" "45 seconds not bad" He stood up, and unzipped his fly. "Here's your reward" I guzzled down the piss, my nose nuzzled in the hair of his crotch. I knew that sometime later I would likely be punished for calling his a Bastard, but for now I was making most of the reward as I could.
"Getting them to the mindset that they are just about aware that they are owned, that's all you need"
Mr Traynor was continuing his conversation. Not long after I had swallowed the last drops of his piss, then the door bell rang. Before he went to answer he ushered me into his lounge and pointed to the floor , directly facing the mid point of the settee , "Kneel and don't move."
Shortly afterwards Mr Traynor was joined by what I guessed was a late twenty something skin head. Tight bleached jeans, cherry red DMs with yellow laces. They had been talking for a good hour , Mr Traynor on a cigar, the skinhead, Chris was going through a packet of Marlboro Reds Directly in my line of vision was the ashtray, and just to the periphery the smith soles of Mr Traynor's boots, and the worn ridges of Chris's DM's. Everyone and then one or the other would move there bot so it touched my shoulder but each one was so fleeting it was unclear if it was a deliberate or accident.
They continued the conversation, over bottles of beer it transpired that Chris had a boyfriend, and he wanted advice on how to turn him from an equal partner to his slave. It was a mix of psychology and philosophy, my brain hurt, and I was glad that I didn't have to contend with such things.
I was focused on the ashtray that was filling up in front of me, feeling redundant as I could easily have been put to use instead of the cheap glass dish that lay before me. I tried to take my mind off it by looking at their boots, I began wondering if I would be called upon to lick them, however for the most part they seemed out of reach, and the only way I could make contact with them was to mov, and that would have meant disobeying Mr Traynor's request
Suddenly Chris began to cough, not surprising as he was on his sixth cigarette of the evening. He cleared his throat, making that unmistakable sound associated of bringing something up from the depths of his lungs. I immediately opened my mouth, and he leant forward and spat what ever he had just brought up into it. I kept my mouth open hoping that I' be rewarded by a taste of ash. "Close and swallow" the instruction unexpectedly came from Chris.
"See that was easy" said Mr Traynor, once they start adapting to a particular mindset they become useful, always on hand but not obtrusive underfoot, unless of course you want them to be."
The conversation continued briefly, then Mr Traynor put on the TV. "I can't see very well "said Chris "Do you mind" "Go ahead" The skinhead grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and twisted me round forcing me face first into the rough carpet below, the friction on my nipples led to a surge of pain to shoot through my body. I waited for an indication that I could kiss his boots, but none came, instead both were placed along my back.
All I could hear was the noise of the TV, and the occasional commentary from the two men. Otherwise I was ignored. Perhaps not ignored, but I wasn't spoken to or about, but Chris took to clicking his cigarette ash to my back, I was being used as an ashtray after all. "Charles, I need a piss, can I use the bog` "Of course, take that with you " I watched as Chris boots landed onto floor in front of me, and began to walk to the downstairs bathroom. "Go on follow him" Chris was at the door waiting, as I passed he kicked me hard in backside "Hurry up, or I'll piss on the floor"
In the bathroom Chris pointed to the floor the I was to kneel, undid his fly, and directed his piss directly into the bowl. I felt foolish as I was there with my mouth open waiting to prove myself useful, and hopefully to taste the skinheads beer infused piss. The skinhead taunted me by directing some of the piss on the seat that he had failed to raise. I wasn't even given the option to lick that clean, as he tore off some toilet roll and wiped the surface clean . He flushed it away, zipped up his fly and washed his hands. As he exited the bathroom he slapped the back of my head, lit another cigarette and returned t Mr Traynor,
I looked at the toilet bowl, when I heard Mr Traynor, shout, get the fuck own here NOW. I snapped out of my forlorn headspace and hurried back down to join him. "Answer me honestly , did you think that Chris was going to let you drink his piss?" "Yes Sir " I whispered, "Did you" " want to? "Yes Sir " "Let that be a lesson for you" He turned to Chris. "Just because you can, it doesn't mean you have to, you are the one in charge remember. "But if I want to use hime I can right?" Of course" "In which case" he said looking directly at me, "Clean that" He lifted his right leg and forced the sole of the boot directly in my face.
He and Mr Traynor continued the conversation as my tongue worked its way through the ridges onto slow of his boot, first, and mud was absorbed on my tongue . For the most part they continued to act as if I wasn't there , although occasionally Chris would withdraw the boot slightly only to return it into position with some force.
"Do you see what I see" "That attempt a hardon?" "Apparently it's locked away when he's not supervised," "Look at it, tiny and pathetic, yet he's spent the last half hour trying to surreptitiously touch it, do you want to show him what you think about that"
"Stop" Chris removed his boot from my face. He stood up and forced me back from my position between him and Mr Traynor. I looked nervously and the older weatherman, who was on his third cigar of the night. He looked at me his eyes half closed and blew a cloud of smoke in my direction , Suddenly I screamed. Chris had kicked me in the balls. He did it again, and again. In total he kicked me five times.
" That should stop you for a while. Do you agree? Of course you do. Now get down and get licking."
"Your boyfriend is going to be a very lucky slave" Mr Traynor said, as he exhaled yet another cloud of cigar smoke. bent down and started to worship the deep red leather in front of me.