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“Awwwww….why so surprised you spoiled little shit” Kent spat at the heavily bound and now drugged out slut impaled and splayed out before him like a piece of meat. “Why am I not surprised that you had absolutely no idea whatsoever that I was behind the transition from your old life to your new one. You always were a great writer Darren, but my god when it came to anything other than your damn books you are as dumb as dog shit.” Darren’s mind was locked in a terrible struggle – trying to come to terms with what he was being told…while being almost completely unable to deal with who was telling it. This man was someone he would have trusted with his life – he had already trusted him with managing his career and his finances. The sense of betrayal was overwhelming. He was about to learn the full extent of his one-time friend’s treachery.
“God you have no idea how much I loathed and resented you from the very beginning Darren. Right out of school, no writing experience whatsoever, cocky as all hell walking in to the publishing house with that first manuscript of yours. I was sure that you would get laughed out of the building. But nooooooo…not you…you actually manage to get a three book deal that very day! I had been trying for years to get noticed – to get my writing career off the ground. Journalism school, apprenticing, studying with the greatest writers of the time…and what do I have to show for it? Well?! Not a fucking thing that’s what. So the publisher offers me a different sort of a deal. I can stay on in a salaried position – as an agent. No writing or publishing allowed, but at least I’ll have a job – all it cost me was my dream. And to add insult to injury…who do they give me to manage? Huh?! You, you little fuck. I wasn’t good enough to be backed and promoted in my own writing career, but the fuckers poured nothing but money into that first novel of yours. And look what happened. I have made you a millionaire many times over – doing all of the hard work while you have enjoyed all the spoils. Well not anymore. I began planning your demise almost as soon as they made me take over administrating your career. I can hardly wait to take out my full revenge on the little shithead who stole my career from me.”
Darren could not believe what he was hearing, and if he’d been able to speak he would have tried to set the record straight even after everything that had already happened to him. The publishers had told him that they were putting Kent in charge of his career because he was a phenomenal writer himself who had just never caught the right break. They had gone on and on about how lucky they were to have him working as an agent and guiding the careers of promising new talent. This was all horribly wrong and he had to stop it. With all of this swirling around in his brain he almost didn’t notice the gradual bloating of his guts that was taking place…the filling with two full bags of piss and beer. And then there were the drugs. What the fuck had they laced the foul cocktail with anyway?
Kent went on. “I’ve been skimming money off of your accounts for ages – getting enough money to buy this place, and having all of the necessary modifications made to suit my purposes…kind of like I’ve done to you slut! You see, you were so stupid that you didn’t realize that trusting someone enough to give them access to, and authority over all of your money, and all of your personal details, is a bad fucking idea. I created your little pseudonym that you like to travel under to become totally anonymous. Nobody knows that he isn’t a real person other than those of us here in this room. I’m sure as hell not going to tell anyone who my little slave bitch really is…and your teachers here are being way too well paid to ever consider telling anyone…and you…well you’re just plain not gonna be able to tell anyone. Mostly because you’re not ever gonna have the chance. You’re now my personal slave slut you got that?! Do ya?! Forever Darren…for the rest of your life you are going to do nothing but be used for my pleasure. Now…I have a couple of things to show you slut”. Kent popped open his brief case and pulled out his laptop, and a brown file folder. He booted up the computer, and placed it on the floor in front of the slowly inflating slave so that he would have a close up view of the video file that began to play. It was a newsreel from the national news service from a number of days ago. Darren began to weep as he heard the newscaster report on the tragic death of one of America’s most promising young writers…him! The reporter went on to say that Darren Somer, who had been known for his reclusive tendencies when working on a deadline had been camping in the woods, when he must have been attacked and killed by a bear. No body had been found, but Mr. Somer’s personal effects as well as a partial manuscript of his next been had been located at the scene.
The next nail in the coffin as it were was the first of two documents that the devious agent slid from the brown card-stock folder. Holding it right in front of Darren’s face the writer could see that it was a death certificate – his – signed by the county coroner. Darren had been officially declared dead. The second document, was a will, Darren’s will, which he never remembered making. Another of Kent’s brilliant fabrications, it left Darren’s entire estate to his most trusted friend and agent – Kent Davis. All in all, Kent was inheriting a little over 35 million dollars from the man whom he had turned into a plumped up drugged out tattooed and modified sex slave. Darren wanted to spit in Kent’s face, but the fact that his lips had been tightly laced around the feeding tube made such an action completely impossible. His intent being clear however, Kent issued a stern warning. “ I know you’d love to spit and swear at me right now slut – but you listen to me very, very carefully. I am going to make sure that you live the rest of your life in agonizing pain, humiliation, and servitude…and that’s if I am in a good mood. You do anything, anything at all to piss me off…and I’ll make sure that you experience a hell that you never dreamed existed, and you can mark my words on that slut.”
Darren was terrified…but the fear was mitigated by the pain from the bloating in his belly, and the clouded and foggy feeling in his head from whatever drug they were pumping into him.
“Finish filling the bitch boys…he can finish hearing about his future after he experiences a little bit more of his present.”
With that, Clint unhooked the rubber enema bags which were now empty, and unlaced the slave’s lips from around the intubation tube. With the shoelace removed, the plastic invader was unceremoniously yanked from Darren’s throat almost making him puke. The heavy rubber webbing was loosened and then removed, and the short plank portion of the bondage chair to which the slave had been secured was separated from the main body of the chair. This left Darren limp on the floor, belly bloated from being filled with beer and piss – aching to have an enormous piss – with a rubber-covered wooden seat firmly secured to his ass by the inflatable plug that still went through it, and into the depths of the slave’s cunt. The drugs had taken serious effect by this point and Darren was softly moaning on the floor and gently writhing around from the pain that came with the abdominal distention. “For good measure” Keith pronounced, as he gave the inflation bulb of the massive plug another 5 or 6 pumps. This prompted moans of agony from the slut’s mouth.
Kent retreated to the far side of the room and began intently tapping away at his laptop keyboard. He became engrossed in his work, and took no notice of the ongoing plight of his newly claimed slave which was playing out merely a few feet away. Once the Master had given the order, the two trainers had been only too happy to obey – “finish filling the bitch”. One thing that Kent enjoyed almost more than anything else was the use of extreme enemas and distention play to inflict pain on his slut. It turned out to be one of a myriad of ways as well that he would continue to deliver the narcotic agent to Darren’s abused body – deepening his submission and slave-hood status through intense chemical addiction.
Pete took hold of the inflatable butt plug’s rubber bulb and slowly turned the chrome locking mechanism to allow air to be released. As he did so, even in his intoxicated state Darren became aware of the glorious release of pressure from within his now fully stretched out rectum. As the behemoth took hold of the rest plank and pulled it away from Darren’s ass, the remainder of the now deflated plug popped out of the soon to be re-filled pussyhole. The slave had been empty for no more than a few seconds when Clint arrived with the means to carry out Kent’s last instruction. Darren was so affected by the drugs he had been given that he barely noticed Pete grabbing him around his bloated belly and hauling him up in an inverted bear hug. With his head hanging down towards the floor, and the recent stretching to the muscles on the insides of his legs, both lower extremities simply fell like wet noodles to the side, fully exposing his stretched out cunt for Clint to stuff and abuse. What Clint had was an extremely large over sized chunk of very dense memory foam. It had been soaking in a viscous liquid contained within a bright shiny stainless steel pail. The liquid was an industrial grade lubricant, and it had been laced with even more of the potent drug preparation that was in the process of making Darren a serious drug addict within just a few exposures. As Clint drew the sponge, which was shaped rather like a football, out of the pail, he squelched a bit of the lubricating jelly liquid out of the structure of the sponge. He then began to stuff the immense piece of dense foam into Darren’s recently emptied asshole. With relatively little effort, the sadistic hillbilly managed to insert the entire sponge into Darren’s body. Once inside, it sprang back out to size, entirely filling the sluts lower intestines, and pressing relentlessly on the inner walls of the sensitive tissue. Slowly, the drug laced lubricant leeched out of the sponge, being absorbed into the slave’s system while at the same time deeply lubing him up for more intense and deeper insertions, which were yet to come. Because the lips of Darren’s cunt remained partially open, enough to see the very end of the sponge football, Clint decided to slowly tip the contents of the pail into the opening. The sponge slowly re-saturated with the thick liquid, increasing the dose of drug that was being delivered, and slicking up Darren’s gut with grotesque amounts of lube. It was a very long lasting lubricant that had not yet been approved for use with human tissue. Kent’s new found wealth had allowed him to acquire copious amounts of it for his most devious purposes. What set it aside from other lubes was that it did not break down or easily separate itself from bodily tissues. Once fully lined with it, Darren’s snatch would remain nicely slicked for his Master’s use for approximately two weeks. Twice per month then, Darren would have to “go for a lube job”…which Kent would be only too happy to perform on him.
With the slave’s belly bloated with piss, beer, and drugs, and his gut inhabited by a dense piece of foam that was leeching even more drug into his system while it greased him up for long term violation by Kent and his sick minded games, Pete and Clint casually informed Kent that the deed was done, and the bitch was fully loaded.
Looking up from his computer, Kent Davis voiced his approval, and suggested that Darren be stored for the night so that he could fully absorb the drug treatment, have time for the greasy lube to bind to his intestinal lining and set up properly, as well a to maximize the pain from being hideously bloated with liquid and not free to piss any of it out. “Any preferences for storage Boss?” Clint inquired. “Yeah” Kent replied, “that heavy rubber compression sack-thing I ordered on line”.
Having all of Darren’s bodily measurements for the purposes of having suits made…or so Kent had told him…it was a simple process for the Master to purchase a full wardrobe of custom fit fetish gear to dress his little sluthole in now that he had taken possession of him and it was all in the open. From a small manufacturer in Berlin Kent had ordered a special kind of sleep sack to use to torture Darren’s already terribly abused body. It was basically a heavy rubber sarcophagus – a full body thick rubber human form container that essentially formed an outline of Darren’s body…like he had been dipped in liquid latex, only much thicker. It had zippers opening it all the way down the back, and the backs of the legs, and it took the effort of both trainers to stuff the writer’s essentially limp frame into the diabolical garment. It had small breathing tubes, which were fed into the slave’s nostrils, but no other openings whatsoever. A thick rubber flange protected the skin on Darren’s back from being injured by the heavy zipper, but also served to make certain that all that touched Darren’s body was heavily scented thick black rubber. Both Pete and Clint were sweating by the time they fully sealed in the slut, bit the fruits of their labor they decided, were worth the effort. So rigid was the rubber forming the garment that they could stand the writer up like a dummy, and lean him back against the wall. A small bulge was visible at his abdomen were the bloating from the liquid gut filling was present, and on the inside of the sleepsack Darren was now in extreme agony. He could not move a muscle, and had to concentrate very deeply on his breathing through the small nostril tubes simply so that he would not suffocate. With his belly and his ass stuffed and laced with drugs, and his body immobilized in heavy-duty bondage rubber, Darren became lost that night. When he would be removed in the morning for his first full day of use by his Master, all that would remain would be a drug addicted living sex toy to be experimented on and tortured by one of the most depraved minds on the planet…possessed by a man who had a burning hatred for the man who had now become his slave. Things did not bode well for Darren…
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