Chapter 2
After sitting in bed for days the last bandages finally came
off and Master declared me fit enough to begin my slave life in earnest.
I should have expected it, but somehow I had thought that things
couldn't get much worse than they already were, but of course I was
wrong.
Before even removing the straps Master fitted me with a chastity device.
It consisted of two very tightly fitting steel rings, one around the
base of my penis and one around the base of my ball-sack. The one around
my ball-sack was quite broad so that my balls were pulled away from my
crotch, exposed and readily presented for punishment. A ninety-degree
steel rod connected the two rings and they were locked in place with
little padlocks. To the ring around the base of my cock a steel tube
extended, enveloping the rest of my cock. The tube didn't fit my cock
tightly, but it did bend downwards at almost a ninety-degree angle just
after the ring. At the end of the tube, where the head of my cock was,
the tube became kind of a metal grille so that I could pee with the
chastity device still on. But the inside of the steel grille was sharp,
not sharp enough to actually cut the skin of my cock, but sharp enough
to cause at lot of pain. The chastity tube was an evil thing. Whenever
my cock got hard it caused me pain from three separate, but connected
things: First of all when my cock swelled it got painfully compressed by
the tube. Secondly the ninety-degree angle on the tube bended my cock in
a most painful manner and finally the steel grille cut my sensitive cock
head. I hated this device and needless to say it seldom left my cock.
Further increasing my discomfort was the fact that my balls were always
ready for abuse and Master loved to abuse them just for sport.
The second thing Master put on my before allowing me out of bed, was a
broad, thick, black leather collar, which was locked on only to very
rarely leave my neck. Finally he gave me my new boots. They were ankle
high and made from hard, shiny and unyielding plastic, squeezing my
already small feet down at least two sizes. They had seven and half-inch
heels, ultra thin and made of shiny steel. Just getting them on was
painful and standing in them was not only difficult, but also extremely
painful due to the compression of my feet.
As Master helped me stand I whimpered in pain as I swayed unsteadily.
Master in no uncertain terms informed me that he would tolerate no such
nonsense. He opened the door and led me down a narrow corridor to the
dungeon room where I would spend so much of my life.
The room was quite large and most of it was devoted to racks, tables and
things to amuse Master by causing me pain. He led me into the middle of
the room and without further ado he began teaching my first lesson:
getting used to walking in the stiletto boots. He required a quite
feminine walk, swaying my ass sexily as I set my feet down carefully. My
mistakes were many and so were his punishment of me. When he finished
lesson I was almost hysterical with pain and exhaustion. That's when he
shoved me to the floor and took me from behind, pushing my face against
the floor as he grasped my hips and fucked me with long, hard thrusts.
Again I was confused as I found myself enjoying the fucking, my cock
trying to escape its cruel prison. When he had shot his load I was in
terrible need, but managed not to beg Master to let me cum. Master just
turned me around and shoved his cock into my face, demanding that I
clean it. It was covered in a revolting mixture of his semen and my
shit, but I smiled as I had been taught as I licked it clean and blew
him afterwards.
Grabbing me by the hair, he then pulled me to my feet and showed me
where I was to sleep. As he explained it to me I once again cried. My
sleeping place was no a bed, but two poles rising out of the floor. One
rose to shoulder height and had a couple of wide steel jaws, standing
open just below the height of my now armless shoulders. The other pole
was not as tall, but it ended in truly massive steel dildo just below
the height of my crotch. On either side of the small pole were a couple
of markings on the floor, about as big as my feet when I wore my
stiletto boots. As Master explained it to me I despaired, but I knew
that disobedience would be punished severely so I did as I was told. I
placed my feet on the markings on either side of the dildo pole and when
I stood still the pole began to rise and soon it pressed against my
anus. I knew what was coming and luckily my ass was lubricated by
Master's cum, but still it hurt awfully as the pole rose until the dildo
filled me completely and I was standing on the tips of my toes gasping
for air. Just when the pole had stopped rising, the steel jaws on the
other pole, which was now directly behind me, closed around my chest
trapping me in place. Master then bid me goodnight and left me, turning
out the light as he left me.
This was how it would be most nights. Unless I was spending the night in
Master's bed, which was very rarely as he preferred to have his sport in
the dungeon, I slept standing up, a massive dildo filling my ass,
effectively unable to move. It took weeks before I learned sleep like
that, but finally I did and was able to find rest as I stood there, my
ass packed to the bursting point.
As Master left me that night I noticed something else, not for the first
time. What I noticed was the silence in the dungeon. Normally in a
basement, almost no matter how deep or quiet, you could always hear the
sounds of the outside world: cars going by in the street, people walking
on stairs or flushing the toilet above you, someone playing music loudly
nearby. Down in the dungeon I could hear nothing, not even Master
ascending the stairs after he closed the dungeon door. The place really
was completely soundproof. Again I despaired at the hopelessness of my
situation, how I had gone from almost having it all for myself, a
brilliant career in front of me, to having just one purpose in life: to
please the cruel man who already done terrible things to me. What really
made me cry was the fact that he had now become the center of my
universe, not only because he controlled me brutally and mercilessly,
but also because I lusted after him. I could no longer deny that the
mere sight of my cruel and sadistic Master made me painfully hard. No
matter how merciless he was, he was also the only one who could grant me
sexual release and that made me lust after him. It didn't matter that he
had already signaled clearly that I was unlikely to be allowed to cum
for a long, long time, if ever. Already now, only one day out of the
sick bed, I found myself leaning into his touch, hoping to please him in
order to be allowed to cum. I was disgusted at myself for allowing him
to turn me into this docile and obedient little slave boy. So I cried
myself into what little rest I got that night as I tried to adjust to
the monster dildo residing in my ass.
The next day Master introduced me to the routine that I was to keep,
while still managing to train me in both proper walking, proper slave
behavior and proper blowjob technique. My day would start when the dildo
in my ass was retracted, giving me a sharp electric shock on the way out
just to make sure that I was awake. The steel jaws encircling my chest
would be released and I proceeded to go to The Altar to eat my
breakfast. The Altar was the place where I was to worship Master when he
was not in the dungeon with me. It stood up against one of the walls and
consisted of a very large picture of Master looking down on whoever
knelt before The Altar. On a dais in front of the picture a huge dildo,
the exact same size and shape as Master's cock, was mounted. It was a
perfect replica down to the veins along its magnificent shaft. Even
before he had caught me, when we had been lovers, I had always thought
that Master's cock was perhaps the most beautiful and perfect I had ever
seen. Now, as I Master gradually turned me into his horny and obedient
little slave boy, I became enthralled with this the most perfect of
cocks.
The Altar was not only my place of worship to Master, my new Lord and
God; it was also the place where I received my food and drink. First I
would kneel at The Altar, press my forehead to the ground as I prayed in
a loud and clear voice: "Master, please Master. Allow this disgusting
piece of slave-shit to worship you, you his Lord and God. Master, please
Master. Treat this revolting slut, this dirty, filthy and worthless
piece of property as harshly as possible, you his Lord and God. Master,
please Master. Teach this utterly useless cunt his true place in the
world, that of the lowest slave in the world, you his Lord and God.
Master, please Master. Allow this disgusting, little faggot-slave to
worship you, his Lord and God. Master, please Master. You are his only
Lord and God. Master, please Master." Many times a day I would recite
this prayer as I knelt in front of The Altar with my forehead pressed to
the ground. Then Master's voice would come from the cock, telling me to
rise and feed. I would then gently let my lips surround that perfect
cock and ever so gently and carefully suck it until it spewed out my
meal. The only thing I ate came out of this cock and it was a thick,
slimy goo, the exact same taste and consistency as Master's cum. I ate
this three times a day and nothing else. When I had eaten I would again
press my forehead to the ground as I recited the prayer, this time
thanking Master for the sustenance.
My routine then prescribed exercise. Master thought it most important
that his slave look good and rigorous exercise was part of this.
Master's voice would come from the cock telling me what exercise to do,
sit-ups and the like, and cameras seeing every square-inch of the
dungeon would register if I performed the correct number of exercises
and indeed if I performed them correctly. After an hour of exercises on
the floor Master's voice would instruct me to get on the Stairmaster.
Here I would spend at least an hour, giving me a very attractive ass.
Walking in place on the Stairmaster was quite difficult at first because
of my stiletto boots, but soon I learned to walk in them exactly as
Master wanted me to, swaying my ass enticingly. Soon I could get up
without help wearing in the boots as I wore them all the time. They only
came off once a week when Master bathed me and soon I was unable to
stand, or walk for that matter, without wearing them. At bath time I
would position myself over my "sleeping-dildo" and wait for it to rise.
It would then rise until I was suspended an inch or two above the
ground, all my weight supported only by the dildo. While I hung there
trying not to be split in half by the monster-dildo, Master would wash
me and change my shoes.
When I was finished exercising, I would be drenched in sweat and very
thirsty so I would go to The Altar and pray before being allowed a drink
from the cock. While all my food was something that tasted like Master's
cum, all the drink I received tasted like Master's piss.
The next part of my routine was cleaning the dungeon. I had only one way
of doing this and that was using my tongue. Starting in one corner, I
would lick the whole floor of the dungeon clean, swallowing whatever
filth I found. If I missed a spot or wasn't thorough enough the cameras
would spot it and point it out to me, ordering me to do it again while
at the same time add it to the list of things I should be punished for
when Master returned.
The cleaning done it was once again time for a meal and after praying, I
would again suck it out of the cock at The Altar. After another round of
sincere praying it was time to get myself cleaned up for Master's
return. Hidden in a corner of the dungeon was an opening in the floor
and I would now squat over this as I relieved myself. Any piss or shit,
which didn't hit the hole, I would be forced to lick up afterwards. The
routine also required me to clean my insides. Next to the hole was a
dildo-shaped water-spigot mounted on the wall. I would carefully back up
to it and impale myself on it. When the spigot was all the way inside
me, warm water would be pumped into me until I moaned with pain and my
belly would begin to distend. Once the filling was complete I would have
extract myself from the dildo, being extra careful not to spill
anything, and waddle to the hole to expel the watery shit from my ass.
Only I couldn't expel it right away. I would have to wait for Master's
command, which was sometime minutes coming, making me cry and scream
with pain and discomfort. When I had finally been allowed to expel the
contents of my overfilled stomach I would have to return to the
dildo/spigot for another enema. Master required that I take five enemas
before I was done, each day reducing me to shivering, sweating wreck
before it was over.
Next to this pit was a shower stall of sorts where I would then be
blasted with ice-cold water. After receiving the enemas I would position
myself inside. When the water stopped running and I stood shivering in
the shower stall, a cold jet of air would blow away the rest of the
water. Drying my hair was never a problem as Master always kept it
short, just long enough to grab so that he could hold onto it when I
gave him head. The final part of my preparation for Master was to rub my
skin with oil, making it look nice and smooth. Since I had no arms, this
was accomplished by me rubbing against a hard, oil-filled sponge, making
sure that in the end I glistened with oil.
The fixed part of my daily duties was now over and all I could do now
was to wait for Master's arrival. I did this by kneeling just inside the
dungeon door, being careful not to move a muscle until he came. My every
movement was constantly monitored by the cameras and a computer system
automatically reported all my transgressions to Master even before his
arrival. Master demanded perfection in every detail and even a slightly
careless prayer or a tiny loss of lip-contact during one of the blowjobs
on the cock at The Altar resulted in punishment.
When Master was away I would go through the routine anyway, kneeling
motionless in front of the door for hours until Master's voice informed
me that it was to assume my sleeping position. I would go to the poles
to be impaled and the routine would repeat itself.
Every detail of my life was strictly controlled, leaving me no chance to
disobey without terrible punishment. For the minor transgressions, like
missing a very small spot when I licked the floor clean, resulted in a
severe whipping. For the big transgressions, like not reciting the
prayer correctly or with the proper degree of devotion or failing to
clean the cock at The Altar, punishment was severe. Master loved to
torture my balls and he showed great imagination in doing so. If he
punished me lightly, he would just beat my testicles. If he punished me
for something more serious he would take a couple of very big alligator
clips and clamp them onto my balls, the pressure of the jaws alone
making me scream and beg. After leaving them on for some time, he would
connect electrical wires to the alligator clips and send terrible
electric shocks through my poor testicles. This would invariably send me
into hysterical screaming and thrashing, willing to do anything for him;
anything at all. One of the most terrible variations of the testicle
punishment was when he used needles. He would ever so calmly take a
needle and plunge it slowly into one of my testicles, immediately
sending me into hysterics.
I very quickly learned to obey every little command perfectly, taking
extra care in all the details to get it right. At the same time my need
for sexual release grew constantly and alarmingly until it was the only
other thing filling my mind besides the need for absolute obedience.
Almost every night Master would briefly release my cock and play with
until I cried and begged for release, tears of frustration running down
my face. Once he had reduced me to a begging, babbling wreck he would
calmly wrap my cock in an ice pack until my member was a tiny, cold and
flaccid thing, before putting me back in the horrible chastity tube. The
lack of release had the effect that I now tried even harder to please
Master in the futile hope that he would one day grant me release. It
focused my mind completely on obedience. Not only was obedience always
on my mind because of the fear of punishment and because it was included
in the prayers I recited all day long, but now it was also connected to
my hopeless quest for an orgasm that I knew perfectly well Master was
not about to grant. This focus on complete obedience brainwashed me in
the most efficient manner. In what I think must have been a matter of a
few weeks, I no longer thought about escape or rescue. My mind was now
focused on my need to be docile and obedient.
And as time went by it got worse. First I lost all sense of time. There
were no windows in the dungeon and no sounds to tell me what time of day
it was. The only constantly recurring thing was my daily routine and
Master's appearance in the dungeon, but even these were a poor clock or
calendar as I had no way of knowing when they occurred in the day or
night and I strongly suspected Master of varying the time when my
routine began. At first I struggled to maintain my sense of time, but as
I had no outside impressions and my mind was increasingly focused on
obedience, I didn't have the mental capacity to keep up the fight.
Once I lost this fight I quickly lost the next one too. Ever since
Master had touched my cock for the first time, I had struggled with my
feelings towards him. It was quite clear that I should hate this brutal,
cruel and merciless man who had taken away my life just so that he could
indulge himself in a fantasy. At the same time he was my only contact to
the world, however evil. And more importantly he was the only chance,
however tiny, I had of getting the sexual release I so desperately
needed. The constant praying also did its job and increasingly I thought
that I was an unworthy and useless slave boy, whereas Master was indeed
my Lord and God. I began to relish in his touch, love his penetration of
me and found myself waiting anxiously to find out if my blowjobs had
been good enough. My heart pounded with joyful and fearful anticipation
when he opened the dungeon door and I thanked Master with all my heart
after each brutal punishment, promising to do my very best to be a
better slave and to please him, reaffirming to him that he was Master,
Lord and God to me and that I lived only to serve him. Just a few short
months ago I had been an independent man with a bright future. Now
Master had shown me what I really was: a worthless slave-shit whose only
purpose in life was to please him.
