6 comments/  19254 views/  8 favorites

Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 01

By: growing_interest



Chapter 1 - A Good Deed Is Its Own Reward

Disclaimer: This is fantasy.

Chapter synopsis: Chase, a narcissistic cheater and sadistic rapist, has a life-changing run-in with a man who has a penchant for mind control, fitting punishments, and long-term chastity.



A smartly-dressed, middle-aged woman walked into my office. She seemed familiar, although I didn't know where I recognized her from. She had an air of Hilary Clinton about her, although this woman was certainly prettier. Still, she had that businesslike, no-nonsense exterior about her which called to mind the former first lady.

She introduced herself as Vivian Warren. That's when I made the connection. She was one of "the" Warrens, a wealthy local family. The Warrens were well-known philanthropists and Vivian Warren was known in particular for her involvement with numerous different charities, most especially her NGO for beaten and battered women.

Though her reputation was as a self-sacrificing saint, I'd read enough minds to know that people were not always what they seemed. Still, it takes a lot of effort to read the mind of a total stranger and this was not a time when expending such effort was necessary. Instead, I stuck to my standard script for new clients. 

"My services aren't cheap," I informed her.

"Do you think I would be here if I couldn't afford them?"

She was right, of course. My business is recommended only by word of mouth and, in general, only the wealthy few who can afford my services know about them in the first place.

"Mrs. Warren," I began, "I am, of course, aware of your family's wealth. But perhaps you are not aware of the range of services I offer. Some are relatively inexpensive and you could no doubt write a cheque for them without blinking an eye. However, there are others that even someone with your means might hesitate to spend that much on."

This was not exactly the truth. I had no prices set in advance for specific kinds of services and I worked instead on more on a sliding scale. I usually charged according to the worthiness of the request. For example, something I enjoy doing, I charge relatively little for. But, when it comes to those tasks I don't fully agree with, I name a high price either to make it worth my while or to dissuade the client from making the request at all.

"What is it you need from me?" I inquired.

"My husband. Chase. I'm divorcing him..." She paused, considering what to say next. "I was a fool and didn't get him to sign a prenup before we were married last year. Now Chase expects to get half of everything. That cheating, lying bastard doesn't deserve a dime... I want you to convince him of this."

I was uncertain as to how much I should charge for this, or if I should even take on the request. While I had been offering my services in general for several years now, this was the first time I'd gotten a request like this.

I gave Vivian's mind a cursory reading. Nothing too deep or too difficult. I could tell that what motivated this request was not greed. She didn't care about the money on its own. It was not some vindictive desire to get even or get revenge, either. I sensed instead a deep hurt in her. This man had wounded her heart deeply and she could not accept that he could possibly benefit from this financially.

I hesitated. I felt sorry for her, but also didn't know if I wanted to introduce my powers to a lover's quarrel. I had in the past avoided dealing with matters of the heart because they often run so deep. Although you might think it would be simple to change Chase's mind and get him to relinquish his claim to half of Vivian's assets, this would be no easy task if he was also as emotionally invested in it as Vivian evidently was. Did he still feel love for her? Hate? Was he remorseful for his actions? Hiding his shame and guilt for cheating behind the standard antagonism of divorce proceedings? Navigating through these feelings would be difficult, even for someone with my powers.

Let me explain my "powers" to you. I am certainly not the only person in the world with these abilities. In fact, a good number of people have them, albeit only to a small degree. 

We all know people who seem to be able to convince almost anyone to do almost anything. Some of them might just be persuasive, but I have discovered that the vast majority of these "convincing" people have low-level telepathic abilities. However, because their abilities operate at such a low level, they themselves often don't even realize it and don't truly know how to turn it on and off. But they nonetheless go through life finding that people almost always do as they ask, never quite sure as to exactly why.

My abilities are more developed and also considerably rarer. Unlike those with low-level abilities, people like me with well-developed telepathic powers can make others do things that they would never choose to do. I can lay suggestions at a very deep level, changing fundamental thoughts and behaviours in those I target.

However, this isn't something I do often. This isn't an easy thing to do. The deeper the suggestion, the more mental strength it requires.

Some people come to me requesting changes in their own behaviour. For example, one man — a wealthy CEO — came to me so that he could finally quit smoking. This sounded simple at first, but when I entered his mind, I realized why he needed someone like me. His love of smoking — the taste, the smell, the feeling — ran very deep. He had a true passion for smoking; that first puff of a cigarette always gave him a relief and comfort he could get from no other thing. The thoughts, desires, and behaviours were so deeply laid, I almost passed out from exhaustion when I targeted them. It gave me one hell of a nose bleed. But I changed them, as promised. After that, he never touched a cigarette again.

More often my clients are somehow tied to politics. I have, therefore, convinced politicians to do things quite contrary to their usual modus operandi. But, don't get me wrong. I am a principled man: in general, I only make changes that coincide with my own values. So, I've never agreed to make a liberal politician suddenly believe that gay marriage is wrong, but I've made many a conservative suddenly "realize" that gays are deserving of full rights and equality, for example.

This is because I am a gay man myself. Which leads me back to the issue of lover's quarrels. Not only does love make mind control difficult in general, but my own lost love has left a lasting effect on me. Since Bryan left me, I can't explore the love in other people's minds without feeling weakened by it. It saddens me and brings up hurtful memories, often stopping my telepathic abilities in their tracks.

I had tried to control Bryan too much. I have very kinky predilections and consider myself a Dom. Although Bryan was naturally submissive, I pushed him too far. Where at first he was excited by the control I had over him, eventually he came to feel violated. I changed things in him that he didn't want to lose. I knew I was hurting him, but I couldn't stop myself. I was drunk on power. 

Then one day I came home to find this:

"I am sorry that I have to say this to you in a letter, Sir. But you and I both know this is the only way. If I tried to say it to you in person, you would stop me. You would make me forget that I was going to say this at all. You would scatter the thoughts in my mind and I might never again be able to say what I need to say. It's exactly that control of my true thoughts about us which has destroyed the love we once had. I loved you and chose to obey you. But when I could no longer choose, when my very thoughts and desires were dictated by you, I lost a part of myself. I have to leave now while I still remember who I am. I hope one day you find the boy you really need, because we both know now that I'm not him."

I chose not to pursue him. Although I can place long-lasting suggestions in the minds of others, new suggestions require me to be right in the room with the person whose mind I'm entering. For example, wherever Bryan is today, the instructions I implanted deep in his mind so long ago are no doubt still there: I'm certain that when someone spanks him now, he still automatically says, "Please Sir, may I have another?" just as I programmed him to do. But if I wanted to change anything else about him or implant any new thoughts, I would have to be right where he is.

I could have tracked him down, forced him to come back. But I knew he was right. I took things too far. I was heartbroken and ashamed of what I'd done to him. Since then, I feel so weak when I see affairs of the heart in the minds of others.

Still, when Vivian came to me, this was a new request. I admit, I was intrigued. Perhaps enough time had passed and I could once again change deep feelings, if those were indeed what motivated Chase's actions. I was growing tired of always dealing with politicians and CEOs. A wife seeking justice in the face of her cheating husband's attempts to rob her, this sounded interesting.

However, I didn't commit to anything right there and then. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this or not. Despite Vivian's insistence that she would pay whatever I asked, I stood firm and told her I would need to meet with her (soon-to-be ex) husband before I named a price.

It was surprisingly easy to get Chase to come to me later that day. It seemed he fancied himself an "actor" now. I made a few calls and, through his agent, got him to come to my office for a "potential casting."

When I met Chase, I immediately understood several things. He was a great deal younger than Vivian Warren. Where Vivian was a gracefully aging middle-aged woman, Chase was a devilishly handsome and clearly fit twenty-something. Obviously he started out as Vivian's boy toy and seduced and weaselled his way into a marriage with her. 

His good looks, his winning smile, his confident swagger: these things also explained to me why he was an "actor" now. He didn't need the money, but clearly thought he deserved to be in front of the camera. He knew he was looker and he wanted everyone else to know, too.

While I got that from looking at him, I got a lot more from reading his mind.

Chase's handshake was firm. He clearly thought of himself an assertive, alpha type. I speculated even then that this was overcompensation for his short stature, since he only stood about 5'6". 

I told him the casting was for a reality dating show. I made up the details. What I specified was that the show would be partially scripted and he would be playing a version of himself. So, the casting would involve me asking several questions about him and his life.

I set up a camera, although it wasn't really on. In fact, I didn't care how Chase even responded to these questions verbally. The point wasn't to hear what he said, but to read his mind as he turned it to these various subjects.

What I realized very quickly was that Chase was pretty on the outside, but monstrous on the inside.

"Are you single?" was my first question.

He prattled on about "dumping some chick" who was holding him back. I could see his relationship with Vivian as he said this. I could see how he seduced her, played her, manipulated her, and finally exploited her vulnerabilities and insecurities to get her money. He had never felt any love for her. He had used her without compunction or regret.

"Okay, great. And what kind of woman do you usually go for?"

His thoughts turned to dozens of women he had been fucking for last year while he was married to Vivian. Again, he blabbed some inane answer, talking about how he liked busty, slutty Latinas.

I saw all the cheating. But I wasn't prepared for exactly what I saw there. 

Some of it was what I expected: picking up floozies here and there and bedding them in sleazy motels.

What I didn't expect were the rapes he committed. I saw how this cocky bastard had forced himself on the hired help at the Warren family's estate. Whenever a pretty new girl came into the Warren household to work, Chase would not take "no" for an answer. He forced himself on dozens of girls, fucking them in brutal and humiliating ways. He threatened to fire them if they told. And then he found some way to get rid of them even if they did keep his secret.

The worst was what he did to a girl named Juanita. Not even 19 years old yet, she lost her virginity to Chase. It was rape; Chase had no doubts about that when he did it. Even after Juanita had realized there was no way to stop him from fucking her that first time, she pleaded for him to put on a condom. He had laughed derisively, told her that he needed to really feel her. He needed to feel her from the inside, he said. And he wanted to mark her. He was going to fuck her and she would never forget how he laid his claim to her cunt.

To make matters worse, she became pregnant after he forced himself on her. When Juanita told Chase, he forced her to have an abortion and then planted one of Vivian's necklaces in her pocket next time she came to their household. Vivian discovered this and fired Juanita for "trying to steal from her," not realizing how they had both been used and manipulated by Chase.

I tried not to let it show on my face how shocked I was. Thankfully, even if I did show it, Chase was so self-involved that he didn't notice. I could tell all his thoughts were on how he looked at that moment, not really caring to study my face in the least.

I wanted to get to the root of Chase's behaviour. I asked a bold question to uncover the motivation behind his manipulations and his rapes.

I smiled warmly at him. "Well, I'm sure we can set you up with a busty Latina girl if that's what you're into. But I don't know if I can promise you a 'slutty' one!" I chuckled, feigning camaraderie. Chase smiled at this, evidently pleased that I understood he intended to fuck any woman he was going to date on this "reality show."

"If I can set you up with a 'slutty one,' we obviously can't show too much on TV. But if you fuck her, we'll need to get a couple shots of something. Can you give me a sense of what kind of sex it would be?"

Chase, unrepentant narcissist that he is, was more than pleased to tell me all about his sadistic sexual tastes. What I gathered from both his very graphic descriptions and from reading his mind was this:

Chase knew how to seduce a woman. And he knew how to be gentle and loving. But that was all an act, a far cry from his true desires. The gentle and loving sex was what he did with Vivian to pull the wool over her eyes. But what he did with all those other women was brutal.

Chase liked to fuck rough. He didn't just get "blow jobs," but rather fucked women's mouths and throats, not caring whether or not they enjoyed it. In fact, my mind-reading suggested he wanted them to hate it and he wanted it to hurt them. He always fucked women roughly, both in their cunts and up their asses. He never wore a condom and almost always came inside the women he fucked. I wondered how many other women aside from Juanita he had gotten pregnant, but I didn't dig into his mind to find out.

While Chase was singly focused on shooting his load into these women, he cared not one bit for their pleasure. He preferred their screams to their moans. All he cared about was his own pleasure.

By reading his mind, I realized what the motivation was. It all came down to a shockingly disproportionate love for his own cock. He thought it was God's gift to the world. He thought he fucked like a superstar.

But in that love, there was also a deep-seated insecurity. He was ashamed of a particular "shortcoming." The biggest issue for Chase in the size department was that he was a "grower," and not a "show-er" in the least. His flaccid penis was undeniably a tiny little nub. When he got hard, his cock grew to a fair 6". Thus, he overcompensated. He didn't want these women to think of him as the man with a tiny, flaccid penis. He wouldn't let anyone think he was that kind of sub-par man. Instead, he was the man with the powerful cock that destroyed women's cunts, mouths, and asses.

He compensated for this concern over possible inferiority by making himself a "superior" in every other way. The confident, assertive swagger he walked with. The dominant, aggressive fucking. All the time he spent at the gym to give himself a strong, muscular body. Owning the cunts of these women by shooting his loads deep inside. Making his cock the thing which destroyed their bodies and ruined their lives.

I was appalled. A rage boiled inside me. This self-absorbed man-child used women like tissues, ruined lives without a second thought. And to top this all off, he thought he deserved half the assets of the wealthy woman he had tricked into loving him!

This was unjust. 

Someone had to do something about it. No, not just "someone." I had to do something about it. Chase needed to be taught a lesson and I was going to do it.

So many ideas came into my mind. But I couldn't act now, I would need time to prepare to make sure this punishment would fit the crime. I would gather what I needed and I would make sure justice would be done.

Again, I feigned camaraderie to finish the "casting." I wanted to get Chase out of there now so I could start preparing to deliver the punishment he so deserved. As much as I wanted to tell Chase then and there that he was the scum of the earth and that I would make him feel that because he deserved to feel that, I stuck to the script I had prepared.

"Okay, well, thank you for coming in, Chase. I think this audition went really well. I'll be in touch soon. I can safely say that I know exactly who to pair you with. As I explained before, it's a reality show, but you'll be playing a different version of yourself. I've got lots of ideas and I think I know exactly how I'm going to cast you."

Chase seemed elated. Finally, he'd be on TV! And audiences nationwide would see what a handsome, manly stud he was.

Chase would, of course, never be on TV, but he will have an audience in due time. And they'll see a very different side of him. He's going to be cast in exactly the role he deserves for the rest of his life.

We shook hands again and he departed. The first thing I did was call Vivian.

"I can name a price."

I explained to her what I knew now. I told her that he wasn't simply cheating on her, but that he was raping countless women. And then I told her what I was going to do to him. She readily agreed to my price and told me to let her know if I wanted anything else at all.

I headed home to get what I needed. I opened the box of things Bryan had left behind. I no longer felt pain when I looked at them. I was no longer weakened by thoughts of lost love. Instead, I was empowered by a sense of justice. I felt stronger than I ever had before. I seriously wondered how much I could do with my powers when I felt such strength in me. I would find out shortly.

I made my way to Chase's building. He had written his address on the "casting forms." I had no doubt that his condo was expensive. After all, one of the Warrens had been living there before Chase weaselled his way in. Chase himself had been living there — in luxury, no doubt — since Vivian kicked him out of the family estate.

I buzzed the intercom. Although he was surprised that the "casting director" was here, I made up some excuse about being in the neighbourhood and wanting to discuss his "future role" with him. He buzzed me right in, likely having no idea how his life was about to change forever.

I greeted him warmly as he let me. I was pleased to see that he was wearing very little, even though the jogging pants he had on at that moment were a lot more than he would wear ever again.

I was right about him being fit. No doubt he answered the door in this state of undress because he wanted me to see the "manly, muscular body" that he was so keen to show audiences worldwide.


Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 01



I was right about the condo being nice. Even I, with all the funds I had accumulated from offering my pricy services over the last few years, did not yet live in such a nice place. The view was especially something. When families like the Warrens get properties like this, they hold on to them for generations.

As soon as he closed the door, I dropped all the pretences.

All the warmth gone from my voice: "Take off those pants, you fucking rapist piece of shit."

Chase was taken aback. "Dude, what the f—"

And then I felt the power surge in me. I bore my thoughts into his mind. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up. And. Strip."

Surprise, shock, and confusion ran across his face as his mouth immediately snapped shut and his hands went for the waistband of his jogging pants.

He tried to cover his cock as he lower his pants but I stopped him before he could do this. 

My voice in his mind once more: "Hands. On. Your. Head."

Pants fell to the floor, hands shot up to his head.

Even having told him to shut his fucking mouth, I couldn't silence the irritating whining inside his head. Panic, confusion, rage: "What is happening? Why? How? I'm gonna kill this fucker. Goddamn faggot, stay away from me!"

His indignation only strengthened me more. I walked right up to him, staring him down. I didn't have to say out loud what I wanted him to know. My voice boomed inside his head.

"Think. Of. The. Women. You. Raped."

The images came up and as they did I kneed him hard in the balls. He started to keel over but I commanded him to stay exactly as he was.

"Spread. Your. Legs. Apart."

I pulled up all those feelings of shame he buried so deep. The fear of inferiority that motivated his abusive behaviour.

I grabbed his tiny, flaccid penis and balls and pulled hard, digging my nails in at the same time.

"THIS is what you used to seduce and trick Vivian. THIS is what you used to impregnate Juanita. THIS is what you used to rape all those women. And you know deep down that THIS is the most pathetic excuse for a cock any of those women have ever seen."

This wasn't a thought I was implanting. It was his thought. His deep fear. His shame. I just made him hear it.

He was terrified. Humiliated. Panicking. No words anymore, from either his mouth or from inside his head. My voice boomed in there and he had no power of speech which could combat it. His mind was animal emotion, basic fear. No longer a "fight" response, now he wanted so badly to flee. To escape. And yet he couldn't move.

"And now, you're never going to use THIS again."

Not fear now. Concern. Worry. Words formed in his mind: "Is this guy serious?"

I didn't answer. I let go of his cock and balls and went to my bag, pleased to see that I had left red marks on him from the pulling and nail-digging.

I rummaged in my bag and I brought out Chase's new friend for life: a chastity device.

When Bryan had left, he had been wearing a chastity device. I'm sure he got it off somehow. Maybe he even took the key. But he had left behind several others. I so enjoyed my control over his orgasms, I bought him many devices to choose from. When I finally released him from one and allow him to have the orgasm he had coveted for weeks or months, I would always let him choose which device to wear next. I was a good Master like that.

I brought a classic for Chase: a CB-3000.

He knew what it was. He had fantasized many times of keeping women in chastity and fucking only their mouths, denying them all pleasure. And in researching this fantasy online, he had also seen the devices for men. Of course, at the time, he hadn't given them a second thought. Certainly, he never in a million years would have imagined that he would wear one.

"Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit," like a broken record in his mind.

I liked this refrain, so I continued to speak verbally, allowing him to continue his train of thought in his mind without interruption. "Now, Chase. Can't you see that I'm letting you off easy? Normally rapists get locked up in prison. You're not going anywhere! I'm doing you a favour by only locking up your dick."

I made my way over and started slipping on the device.

"And can't you see what a good deed I'm doing? I'm doing a public service! I'm protecting the women of the world."

The device now in place, I finally picked up the lock.

"And, Chase," I said, looking him in the eye, feigning compassion, "You should know I'm not a monster. I'm not like you. You used those women and never gave a second thought to their pleasure, to their own orgasms. In fact, you avoid their pleasure entirely and caused only pain. But as long as you're a good boy, I'll still let you cum. Maybe even once a month, if I'm feeling generous."

Chase was flabbergasted. His face had gone white. This was hell, he was sure. His cock meant everything to him. And now "this faggot" was going to control it, rob him of his orgasms for weeks at a time. Worse yet, rob him of his erections altogether. He was going to have that tiny, flaccid penis 24/7 with no hope of his cock growing to its full size.

I beamed widely. "That's right, Chase! You've got it. No orgasms! No erections! Just the tiny little nub you deserve." I said, confirming his worst fears.

I snapped the lock in place and gave the device a hard tug to make sure it was on firmly. I probably tugged much harder than I had to, but no doubt you agree with me that Chase clearly deserves a lot of pain. I planned to be rough in everything I do to him.

The device firmly in place physically, I knew it was time to lock it there mentally.

I held up the key, dangling it in front of him on a thin, gold chain. I taunted him with it, waved it in front of his face, knowing he still couldn't move a muscle. His hands stayed firmly planted on his head despite his wanting so much to reach out and grab the key.

I slipped the gold chain around my neck. I want him to see this key every time he looks at me.

I was still going strong. My powers had never been so great before. It felt like nothing at all to keep him in place, to enter his mind. And I knew it would feel just as easy to implant thoughts. Deep thoughts.

I gave my next trick a verbal introduction: "Chase, I know you want to take that off your cock. But I'm afraid you can't do that. In fact, you have no idea how to." 

I drilled that thought into him. I sensed his surprise at his sudden realization that he couldn't conceive of any way to take it off. As soon as he turned his mind toward the lock, toward the idea of removing the device, his thoughts scattered like dust in the wind. It would be completely and entirely impossible from now on for him to remove it on his own.

He knew the key had something to do with it. He eyed the key. I laughed out loud as I read his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on it, he could not conceive of how the key would work with the device, of how he could use it to free himself from chastity.

And then he came to the conclusion I wanted him to: as he looked at the key around my neck and realized that he had no idea how to use it, he also realized that I really did control his orgasms. I controlled his cock. I controlled the most important thing in his life. I had the key and I knew how to use it.

I was overjoyed. 

Never had I felt such a rush of power with any of the other men I had controlled. It was clear why. As I have said, I am principled man. My other boys, they were subs. They had openly wanted control. Although I didn't always respect all their boundaries and sometimes went too far, I had always required basic consent before I started to control them. But now, this was different. I controlled this man who did not want to be controlled, who had never once been controlled before. And I knew it was the right thing to do. 

This was justice.

I relaxed my hold over him. He felt it immediately and knew he was in control of his body again.

The first thing he did was take his hands from his head down to the chastity device. But when his hands got there, they stopped short. He realized he didn't know what to do with it. The thoughts of yanking at it, of trying to pull it off — they scattered away as quickly as they formed. He looked blankly at the prison around his cock for a moment, his thoughts lost.

Then rage. The realization once more that it was true: that he could not think of how to take it off.

"You sick motherfucker! I'm gonna fucking kill if you don't take this fucking thing off my cock right this second!"

He was all daggers-with-the-eyes, shoulders up, fists pumping, ready to strike me any moment.

I just laughed at him. "Now, Chase, if you kill me, who's going to take it off you?"

He eyed the key around my neck again. He understood the power I had over him. I didn't really need to use any more deep mind control if I didn't want to: the scene was set. Even if he did hit me — hell, even if he killed me, he wouldn't know what to do with the key, wouldn't be able to conceive of a way of taking off the device on his own. I almost literally had him by the balls.

I could tell he understood. 

"Welcome to your new life, Chase!" I said happily.

Realizing that his aggression was as futile as his attempt to remove the device, he turned then to shame, realizing he was still stark naked in front of a stranger. Not only that, but a stranger who was happily looking at his fully exposed, permanently flaccid cock trapped in a cage.

As he had tried to do when I first made him strip, his hands now successfully rushed in front of his shame.

"Hey, you've got the right idea, Chase! But don't worry, you don't have to keep your hands there."

I rummaged through my bag once more and pulled out a bright red jockstrap.

"See, problem solved! I've thought of everything already. Just put this on and, not only will your hands be free for other things, but I won't have to look at your ridiculous excuse for a cock anymore."

Chase stayed where he was, hands where they were, stone-cold look on his face. Evidently, he wasn't yet persuaded as to how good an idea this was.

"Well, don't worry about me! If I need a laugh at some point, you have my permission to take this off and show me your tiny, caged cock."

Aggression again: "Fuck you! Fuck this! Get the fuck out my home!"

Just the set up I was hoping for.

"Actually, Chase. This is my home."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"I guess I forgot to tell you. Silly me! I was just so focused on punishing you for being a narcissistic rapist pig that I forgot about your punishment for being a thieving, cheating husband too."

Chase's eyes widened at this comment. The pieces were starting to fall into place.

"Now, don't go thinking bad thoughts about Viv. She really is every bit the saint that people make her out to be. And I guess you knew that, huh? That's how you weaselled your way into her life, made her fall in love with you. You abused her trusting nature, Chase. But even after you broke her heart, she didn't come to me for vengeance. All she asked was that I stop you from taking half her assets in the divorce."

I rummaged through my bag again and pulled out some forms, perusing them and holding them up for Chase to see as I explained the rest.

"Of course, when she made that request, she had no idea you were an abusive, rapist pig too. When I explained this to her, she was happy to agree to my terms."

I let these words hang for a moment.

"You're not going to get a dime from her. And in exchange for my services, the Warren family has generously agreed to give me a condo with a great view, along with all its contents."

Another pause. No reaction from Chase yet. He was not sure how to respond, vacillating between incredulity, a desire to lash out, and a question as to whether he should be begging for forgiveness.

A wicked smile crept across my face as I dealt the last blow: "By the way, you're included in those contents."

Rage was his choice again. "Enough! This isn't fucking happening!" His hands now moved away from covering his shame. I guess throwing up fists was more important at that moment. "Get out of here, you motherfucker! This is MY HOME!"

I noted that I didn't feel tired at all, still very powerful. But I was getting tired of his refrain. Best just to force the last step in obliterating his old life and welcoming him into his new one instead of trying to persuade him to be reasonable.

I set down the forms and picked up the jock strap once more. I walked up close again and held out the jock, totally unfazed by Chase's pugilistic stance.

I entered his mind: "Put. It. On."

Chase watched as his arms moved seemingly on their own, no longer fists and instead carefully handling the jock as his legs stepped into it.

"Come. With. Me."

Chase followed me to the bathroom. Just as I had hoped, it was extremely well-lit and there were mirrors everywhere. Narcissistic Chase no doubt spent many hours looking at himself in there. 

He blushed now when he saw himself. He hadn't noticed before, but along the top of the jock were two words written in big black letters. On the back, above exposed his ass: CHASE. On the front, above the pouch that held his the now useless, caged cock: CHASTE.

How lucky I was that Chase was roughly the same size Bryan had been. I only regretted that I didn't have time to get this professionally done, having had to write the words on there myself. I made a mental note to get him other jockstraps with bigger, darker, clearer labels: CHASE / CHASTE. 

I didn't particularly care if the jock had been too tight, but I didn't want it to be loose. It was, of course, a little loose in the pouch. No doubt if Chase could get hard, his cock would strain against the small pouch. But I much preferred his useless flaccid penis in a cage and revelled in the fact that Chase was a grower and not a show-er. Anyone looking at him in this state would either assume he had a tiny package or — hopefully — be able to tell that his cock locked up in a cage that made it almost permanently useless.

While all these things were great, what mattered to me most was how his ass looked. Hot damn! I certainly hit the jackpot. The jock perfectly framed his glutes. You could, as the saying goes, "bounce a quarter off that ass."

Chase may have thought earlier today that his body deserved to be ogled, and he wasn't wrong in thinking that. But I could see now that his perky ass is really the body part that stands out above the others. And now, thanks to me, it would be permanently exposed and ogled by countless numbers of people for the rest of his life.

I stood right behind him and whispered into his ear: "Get used to this look. You're never gonna wear anything but a jockstrap ever again."

I almost laughed at how quickly Chase's face went from a blushing red to a terrified, pale white.

"Follow. Me."

Now we went to Chase's bedroom.

"Go on, now. Embrace your new life. Make what I said a reality." I opened the drawers on his dressers, the doors on his closet. Into his mind, I placed another instruction: "Throw. Them. Off. The. Balcony."

I was briefly surprised at the mental resistance Chase put up against this instruction. Perhaps my telepathic powers were finally reaching their limits? I admit, I had never used them so much in such a short time before. The amount of mind control I had used on Chase since arriving at his apartment is normally something spread over days, not minutes.

But also, though my powers might have been finally reaching their limit for the day, I didn't expect how attached Chase would be to these clothes or how deep his affection for them ran.

I glanced at them again. Brand names, everywhere. Clearly, he had spent a lot of his wife's money on these garments. But it was ill-gotten money. He deserved none of them. 

I was acting as a force of justice and I would not be stopped before I was finished. 

I strained to issue a stronger, deeper, more powerful instruction: "DO. IT. NOW."

That did it. Like a marionette, he was set in motion, again watching himself move.

He gathered up the clothes in large piles and carried them outside, throwing them over as I had instructed. He was deeply embarrassed to be going outside in nothing but this bright red jockstrap. I hoped that all the clothes he was throwing over the edge would attract attention below and many people would turn upwards to see Chase's "new look."

As much as I enjoyed watching Chase throwing away his highly-prized wardrobe and risking some public humiliation by standing outside in nothing but his bright red jock, I needed to make sure things were finalized before my powers were exhausted. I was now starting to feel truly drained.

I headed back out the main room while Chase was throwing his old life off the balcony. I noticed then that my nose was bleeding. I picked up Chase's discarded jogging pants and used them to wipe away the blood. I took them to another window and threw them out on my own, hoping that Chase would not notice. I did not want him to see the nose bleed or its aftereffects, as I wasn't yet ready for him to discover that there were limits to my powers. Although the fact that I had the key to his chastity device guaranteed me some ongoing control over him, I still needed him to believe I could mentally force him to do absolutely anything I wanted.

I gathered up my other things and looked over the forms once more. When Chase had finished throwing all his many-loved garments over the edge of his balcony, he regained control of his body.

He felt defeated. The loss of all his tailored suits and silk boxer shorts left a sinking feeling inside him. Where he may have never loved his wife or any woman at all, he had loved his possessions.

He walked out into the main room. He looked bewildered. He was lost. He didn't know what to do. It seemed like the walls were closing in.

"This can't be happening... This can't be happening..." he muttered.

"It is happening, Chase. This isn't a nightmare. You're not going to wake up. You never deserved all those clothes. You bought them with the money you got from manipulating a good woman. You're a bad person, Chase. All you deserve is punishment."

Still, a lost look on his face. He knew he couldn't fight. He knew he was losing.

"Come. Here." I boomed in his mind.

He approached, resigned now to how his body could move without his willing it to. He looked at the forms I'd laid out.

"What are these?" he asked, starting to read them.

"Sign. Them."

Swiftly, he lifted the pen and signed everywhere that was marked with an X.

"Chase, that was the first good deed you've ever done. You just relinquished your claim to any of Vivian Warren's assets or anything belonging to the Warren family."

He scanned the pages he had just signed.

"But that alone doesn't make it a good deed. I mean, all you've done on that page is let the Warrens keep what's rightfully theirs. Your truly good deed is the donations you've just made to Vivian Warren's NGO for beaten and battered women."

He spotted that page.

"All your worldly belongings. All your money. You're giving it all to charity." I smiled wickedly.

"No! No way, man! That's not money I took from Viv! That's MY money!" He looked at me imploringly.

"And those women you raped? The ones you got fired from their jobs? Those were THEIR bodies. THEIR jobs. THEIR lives you ruined. You owe them your measly savings. And that's just for starters."

"No fucking way!" He tired to tear up the forms. 

"STOP."

He froze, unable to move a muscle.

"Where's your phone, Chase?"

"On my nightstand," he replied automatically.

I found an iPhone 6 there. I was pleased with this as I'd wanted an upgrade from my 5, anyway.

I returned. "Okay, Chase. The two forms with your signatures. Hold them up for me."




Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 01



He remained frozen. I forgot to issue the instruction mentally. I was definitely reaching my limits. "NOW" I commanded into his mind.

He was caught off-guard by the flash, but still kept the pose I had instructed him to hold as I took several more pictures.

"Great pic!" I walked over and showed it to him. He blushed, again seeing himself in his humiliating "CHASTE" jockstrap.

I found Vivian in his contacts and sent her the pic.

She had probably been waiting for that text all night. I got an immediate reply: "PERFECT! :-) :-) :-)"

I texted back: "Will drop off the forms tomorrow. Anything else you need?"

Vivian replied: "This is everything I need & more. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Giving you the condo is hardly enough to repay you."

I looked up at Chase, still in the same pose. "SHOW. ME. YOUR. SHAME."

He carefully set down the forms and took off his jock strap. "HANDS. ON. HEAD."

I went to take a pic, then added a final instruction: "SMILE."

I took a few shots to get one that looked just right. Chase looked ridiculous, smiling stupidly with his caged cock on full display.

I sent that to Vivian and added, "A good deed is its own reward."

Her reply: "Enjoy your reward. Both you and he should get what you deserve."

I turned off the phone and slipped it into my bag. I didn't know how much longer I could use my powers for. I felt another nose bleed coming on. Better make this quick.

"JOCK. BACK. ON."

Chase slipped on his outfit once more and, with that, I released my control and Chase's body relaxed.

"What was with those pictures?!" he asked, furious.

"Oh, just thought the wife you cheated on and tried to steal from should know that things went according to plan. Sounds like she's most pleased with your chastity. She knows now that the women of the world are finally safe from you."

Of course, Vivian would never have said that. But I knew that's what she thought, even without reading her mind. She had consented to my plans to enslave, humiliate, and chasten Chase, even if she never told me how much she must have enjoyed the idea.

Chase blushed. He covered his face. This was a reaction I had not yet seen: he was tearing up. But he stopped short of crying.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

I walked up close, stared him down, looking him dead in the eye. "Because you deserve it."

It's a good thing I caught him off-guard with what I did next, because I was too weak to control him with my mind right then. I grabbed the back of his head with one hand, grabbed his bare ass with the other, and forced a kiss on him. His mouth had been open, he didn't expect this. I raped his mouth with my tongue, forced his body against me, groped his ass, held his head in place. But only very briefly. He reacted, pushed me off, backed away.

"I'm not a fucking faggot!"

I licked my lips, enjoying the taste of him that lingered in my mouth. "Oh, I know. That's why our life together is going to be so much fun for me."

"'Our life together'?! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"Chase, I'm too tired to explain tonight. If you can't figure it out, I'll spell out the details for you when I come back tomorrow. Anyway, you need to remember, this is my home now and you're my property."

He glared at me, but didn't protest any more. I could tell he was just waiting for me to leave, as if my departure would change the reality of the situation. I collected the forms on the table, looked around quickly to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything important.

"The movers will be here at noon. I'll try to be here then, but if not, can you be a dear and let them in?"

"You expect me to let a bunch of strangers see me in this?" He motioned to his jockstrap.

"You better get used to it. That's how everyone is going to see you from now on. And, Chase, you should really thank me. There's a chance they won't notice your chastity cage if you've got that jockstrap on."

"Fuck you!"

This irritated me. I wanted to punish him for his ingratitude. I tried to will another command forcing him to greet the movers tomorrow naked, without even a jockstrap to prevent those big, strong, burly men from seeing that Chase was no man at all anymore. But I was just too weak. I needed to leave before Chase realized that I couldn't control his mind or implant any new instructions tonight.

"Good night, Chase" I blew him a kiss, to which he reacted with a look of revulsion. Then I held up the key to his chastity device, taunting him one final time before I left. "Sleep tight," I added, with a wink.

I got in the elevator, reflecting on the evening. I was happier than I'd been in a long time. I was going to enjoy this. 

A good deed really is its own reward.

**********

Author's Note: This is the first chapter in what will be a much longer story. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged. 



Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 02



Chapter synopsis: While Chase loses his property and his dignity, our narrator takes possession of his new condo and his new boy.

***********

The movers arrived bright and early. I had just awoken from a pleasant sleep, dreaming all night of how I could punish Chase next. I felt refreshed and empowered once more. It was that same sense of certainty that gave me so much strength: I knew that everything Chase had done in his "old life" was wrong and I knew it was up to me to punish him every day for the rest of his "new life."

The man in charge of the moving crew gave me a firm handshake and introduced himself as "Garcia." He was a handsome, middle-aged man. Something nice to wake up to: an olive complexion, a strong jawline accentuated by a tight beard, and overall rugged good-looks. Not my usual type, but a looker nonetheless.

I explained to him that only a few pieces of furniture needed to be taken over as I was assuming possession of an already-furnished property. I had done some preliminary packing last night and there were a few boxes ready to go. I motioned to my many book shelves and instructed the movers to box up their contents and bring them all over today.

I gave Garcia my cell number and the address of the condo before heading off, adding that, if I wasn't there when they arrived, Chase would be "happy" to let them in.

I set out then on what I had planned for the morning. First of all, I swung by the office of Vivian Warren's NGO for beaten and battered women. I hadn't planned on staying long, but I got held up. The receptionist — a sweet, young, pretty girl — seemed clueless as to what she should do with the forms I handed her. She studied them a couple times and looked back up at me.

"Sorry... This is, uh, my first day here."

That's when I noticed the name-tag she was wearing: "Juanita." 

I guess I wasn't the only one who was setting things right. The maid that Chase had raped, impregnated, and forced to have an abortion. The maid that he had tricked his soon-to-be ex-wife into firing. This was her, gainfully employed by Mrs. Warren once more. 

No doubt Vivian Warren would be taking good care of Juanita from now on. Though she was only a receptionist now, I suspected that Vivian would perhaps be groom Juanita for advancement. She certainly deserved it.

I explained that Mrs. Warren would be expecting these forms and that she would know what to do with them. These were the papers that guaranteed Chase would get nothing from her in the divorce.

"Oh!" Juanita's eyes lit up and she gave me a beatific smile. "Ms. Warren's divorce papers?! I will give her these right away!" She dashed off down the hall toward what must be Vivian's office.

They were, of course, more than just divorce papers. Included in the dossier I gave Juanita were also the documents that would leave Chase utterly bankrupt and give me full possession of the condo he had so unjustly tried to steal away from the Warren family. I hoped Vivian's lawyers would make quick work of the contracts and agreements Chase had "so graciously" signed and that, maybe even by the end of the day, he would officially lose all legal claim to even a single penny.

My business with Vivian Warren was finished now that she had the forms that would finalize everything we'd arranged. I didn't wait for Juanita to come back, certain that nothing would stop her from getting the divorce forms to Vivian. Maybe one day, when the right moment presents itself, I'll introduce Juanita to the "new" Chase. She should know that his punishment was far more than a simple divorce from his wife; it was a divorce from his worldly possessions, his freedom, and his very manhood itself.

I headed out right after Juanita ran off. I had a lot to do.

My next stop was the Salvation Army, where I dropped off four big bags full of Chase's old clothes. After Chase had thrown his old wardrobe off the balcony last night, I collected the pieces I could still find down on the street. In retrospect, it was thoughtless of me not to consider that there were so many people in need who deserved Chase's wardrobe so much more than he did. I hoped that someone else would find the articles of clothing I'd missed and get some use out of them.

After Salvation Army, I drove over to The Market de Sade, a local sex shop specializing in BDSM paraphernalia. 

I recognized the man behind the counter, surprised to see that he was still working here. Perhaps he was the owner? When Bryan was still around, we had been frequent and loyal customers here. But this was the first time I'd visited in years.

Either way, I was sure that I had seen this guy in here many times before. He was hard to forget. His physical form alone was noteworthy, as I'd guess he was at least 6'4" with a solid linebacker build. But what made him especially memorable were things like the massive septum piercing between his nostrils, the shaved noggin, the myriad of tattoos on his neck, and the full sleeve of tattoos covering both arms. To top this off, he was wearing a tight leather vest and matching leather pants. Though I couldn't see him being much over 30, he nonetheless called the term "leather daddy" to mind. This was someone who definitely "lived the lifestyle."

He gave me a nod and asked if I needed any help in a gruff but friendly voice. I thanked him, but said I already knew what I was looking for.

I took my time perusing their selection, imagining for a while how Chase would look with one of those massive, comically-oversized dildos fully inserted up his ass. 

Alas, I had to be reasonable for now. Given that Chase had been a totally straight, alpha-type, domineering man in his old life, I had to assume even the women he'd had sex with hadn't played with his ass at all. He likely has a totally virgin asshole. I opted to start him off with something small. As I've said, I'm a patient man. I can wait. 

Still, I'd never seen anyone take one of those absurdly-oversized sex toys in person and I made up my mind right then and there that eventually I'd see one fully disappear into Chase's ass, come hell or high water.

I browsed a bit more, choosing a few more items along the way. I took a handful of things to the register. The "young leather daddy" behind the counter gave me a coy smile while looking them over. 

"Are these a gift for someone special?" he playfully inquired.

This struck me as an intrusive question and I gave him only a curt response: "Yes."

"Good, good... You know, I'm glad to see you've found yourself a new boy," he added as he scanned some barcodes.

I gave him an quizzical look, unsure how he would know this. I got no sense of telepathic powers from him. If he wasn't reading my mind, what in particular tipped him off to my having a "new boy"?

He continued, "You probably don't know this, but a lot of the staff around here were envious of the relationship you had with your last boy. Most of them could only dream of having that kind of relationship that balanced serious kink and mutual love so well. It was sad for all of us when we heard through the grapevine you two had broken up... You guys had a lot of 'fans' in the community."

I guess it made sense, what he concluded. Bryan and I had expressed our kinkiness quite publicly. He never called me anything other than "Sir" or "Master," no matter where we were or who was around. And I suppose when we visited The Market de Sade, we weren't exactly discreet. In fact, I'd usually make my comments as loudly as possible, embarrassing and humiliating Bryan by making sure everyone knew he'd be taking huge new dildos up his ass and hard new paddles on his ass as soon we left the store.

If this guy knew from that that I was a Dom, and here I was purchasing paddles, dildos, and butt plugs once more, then it must mean I have a "new boy."

But I only gave him a wane smile. His comment brought up mixed feelings in me. Yes, this was a "new boy," but I regretted that this wasn't love. I might never again have "that kind of relationship that balanced serious kink and mutual love so well."

I chose not to dwell on it and changed the subject. There were a few items I needed that they didn't have on the shelves, so I placed an order for them. I also made requests to have a few of my purchases personalized, a service they could provide on-site. I gathered up the rest of my things, left my number, and thanked my "fan" for his help.

My errands for the morning now finished, I drove over to "my new condo." It was about 12:15 and I hadn't gotten a call yet from the movers. Although this could mean that they just weren't there yet, I was hopeful that they were on schedule. If they were, this meant that Chase had let them in and was no doubt suffering through the first of many humiliations he would experience in front of other men.

Things were looking good when I parked out front. The moving van was outside the building. I passed by the movers on their way out as I was heading in. They told me quickly what they'd already taken up and what was still in the van. But that was it.

"Strange," I thought to myself. I was sure they would have said something about the "exhibitionist fag" who must have let them in upstairs.

When I entered the condo, I understood why they hadn't commented on Chase's state of undress.

I was pissed when I saw what Chase had done to avoid his humiliation. It was, I admit, some quick-thinking on his part. Chase's hair was wet and he had a towel wrapped around his waist. No doubt he'd told the movers he'd just gotten out of the shower when they arrived. Although maybe they found it a little strange that he was still only wearing a towel 20 minutes after getting out of the shower, they hadn't yet questioned it.

Chase blanched when he saw me. He could tell immediately I wasn't pleased. If he had hoped I was going to go easier on him today, he was very, very wrong.

"LOSE. THE. TOWEL." My voice boomed in his mind.

While his face contorted into a pleading and shameful expression, his arms moved swiftly on their own and the towel fell to the floor in an instant.

Now dressed as he deserved to be, I was pleasantly reminded once more of the ultimate punishment I would make him endure for the rest of his days. Written in big, bold letters, the bright red jockstrap announced: "CHASTE."

"Bedroom. Now."

The words entered Chase's mind and he reluctantly followed me in. I shut the door behind us. As much as I wanted the movers to see Chase in his humiliating state of undress as soon as possible, some discretion was required. I didn't want the whole world knowing about my mind control abilities and didn't want to waste any of my limited energy on erasing the movers' memories of anything I might do or say.

"I'm disappointed in you, Chase."

He looked down at his feet, holding his head in shame, not even trying to meet my gaze.

"Well, go on then. Explain yourself to me. Why did you think you could cover yourself with a towel when I'd made it so clear to you yesterday that you deserve to have your body and your naked ass put on display in front of everyone for the rest of your life?"

"I... well... I didn't want those guys to see me like... this." He motioned to his CHASTE / CHASE bright red jockstrap. "I thought maybe we could talk this over?" He looked at me imploringly, puppy dog eyes and all. "Look... I'm... I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for cheating on Viv. I'm sorry for tricking her into marriage just so I could steal from her. And I'm sorry for what I did to all those other women."

I did not yet react. I waited for him to finish.

"Please, just... Just let me have my life back... Please. I've... I've really learned my lesson." He flashed me those sad, pleading puppy dog eyes again.

I pretended like I was seriously considering Chase's words for a minute, but I couldn't hold back for long. My face cracked and my contemplative expression gave way to an uproarious burst of laughter.

"Chase, I knew you were a narcissist, a cheater, a thief, a misogynist, and a rapist pig. But I only just realized you're a moron too!"

The puppy dog eyes were gone. A sheepish look crept across his face: he'd been found out.

"Maybe you could use your good looks and those adorable puppy dog eyes to charm and trick Vivian, but you're forgetting that, unlike her, I can fucking read your mind!"

While Chase had been claiming to be sorry, his thoughts told an entirely different story. In reality, he still felt absolutely no guilt or remorse over any of the things he'd done. Images of giving Vivian a brutal punishment-fuck after his release from chastity kept rising up in his mind. He wanted revenge for "what she'd done to him."

He didn't feel like he deserved to be punished for anything. And he hated me for doing this to him, finding no hint of justice in how I was treating him. He hated me with a fiery passion. Images of violence towards me came up again and again during his false repentance. Right when he had been speaking the words "I've learned my lesson" out loud, in his mind he had been vividly picturing the moment where I'd removed his chastity device and he'd promptly knock all my teeth out.

"I can tell it's going to take you a while to get used to your new life. But that's okay, Chase. I'm going to be here for a long time to make sure you adjust."

He blanched again. The full implications of his predicament flashed before his eyes once more. He understood that any hopes he had had of somehow escaping his torment today were egregiously shortsighted.

"Now, I obviously can't punish you for everything you've done wrong all at once. That's going to take the rest of your life. But right now, I have to punish you for disobeying me."

I sat on the edge of the bed. "Bend over my knee."

He didn't move one bit. He gave me an incredulous and skeptical look, wondering if I was serious.

"Chase. You know I can force you to do this. But it would make me happier if you just did as I asked. And you want me to be happy, don't you? I'm much easier to live with when I'm happy."

He considered this for a moment and then swallowed hard. I could tell he had implicitly accepted my terms when he bent over my knee of his own free will, hoping to appease me in some way and lessen his sentence.

His "choice" to bend over my knee really turned me — much more than simply forcing him would have done. It was more degrading for him to appear to consent to this than it would be for him to be plainly forced into it. I hoped that Chase could feel my half-hard cock pressing against his abs. But, even if not, it was only a matter of time before he and my cock would become intimately acquainted.

I started to caress his exposed ass. He flinched when I touched it, but didn't try to get up or get away. "Do you know why you're bent over my knee, Chase?"

A moment passed. I knew he didn't want to say it out loud, as if not saying it would somehow prevent it from occurring. But he gave in. He wanted to "keep me happy," after all.

"You're going to spank me."

"Very good, Chase! Maybe you're not as dumb as I thought." I continued to caress and grope his perky bottom. "I'm going to spank you like a bad little boy... Because that's what bad boys deserve."

With that, I gave his ass a swift, hard, firm slap. I didn't take my time with this. I didn't let him get used to it. I tightened my grip on him with my other arm and gave his rear end at least a dozen violent smacks in quick succession. He hollered and flinched and squirmed each time I hit him.

Eventually, he weaselled his way out of my hold. He ran to the other end of the room, hands attempting to shield his stinging, red bottom.

I was disappointed to see he wasn't full out crying. He only had wet eyes. Still, there would be plenty of other opportunities to reduce him to a sobbing mess, so I didn't mind too much right now.

There was a knock at the door.

"Hey, you guys okay in there? What was that sound?" I recognized the voice as Garcia, the easy-on-the-eyes mover I had dealt with that morning.

I looked over at Chase. "Aren't you going to let him in?"

It seemed that the stinging pain coming from his ass made him forget again who was in charge here and he replied with an indignant "Why the fuck would I do that?"

"I don't know, Chase. Why don't you pick a reason? Maybe it's because you want to keep me happy so that I don't punish you again. Maybe it's because I have a supernatural, godlike power to force you to do anything I want. Or maybe it's because I'm the only one who can take that little cage off your little cock," I said, pulling the key out from under my shirt to make my point.

He sneered at me, but reluctantly gave in to my request. He opened the door, blushing the same shade of red as his well-spanked ass.

"Oh!" Garcia's eyes went wide. He was clearly surprised to be greeted by Chase in nothing but a skimpy, bright red jockstrap. 

He looked from Chase to me and back a couple times. "I, uh... Geez, sorry. I, uh... I didn't realize you two were a couple..."

Chase started, "We are NOT a — " but I cut in.

"Chase, honey. It's okay. Everyone is gonna figure out we're a couple now that we're living together." I got up from the bed and came up behind Chase, placing my hand lovingly on his shoulder. "You've got to stop pretending we aren't lovers every time we meet someone new."

Chase was shooting me daggers with his eyes, but didn't say anything. He continued to blush red, but he had given in to the situation for the time being. I was in charge and he'd have to endure it for now.

"Listen, guys..." Garcia began, "It's okay... I have lots of gay friends... And this isn't the first time I've stumbled upon a couple 'christening' their new place."

I gave Garcia's mind a cursory reading and saw a bit more than he said. He really had lots of gay friends, just as he claimed, but he left out the detail that he himself was bisexual and often messed around with those guys — though he would never in a million years admit to this publicly. I could tell that, although he did find it a bit awkward to have walked in on us "christening" our new place, he also found this scenario vaguely arousing and he was fully enjoying the view of Chase's naked flesh on display.

I smiled politely, feigned embarrassment. "Thanks for understanding... You know, it's just that we're so happy to be making this huge step in our relationship by moving in together, we can't keep our hands off each other today."

Chase still said nothing, but Garcia probably just assumed he was embarrassed either about being apparently "caught in the act" or supposedly "found out as gay."

I had an idea. I wouldn't have proposed this if I didn't know for sure that Garcia would be into it. But I assumed that, since he enjoyed ogling nearly-naked Chase so much, he would readily agree to my request.

"Hey, Garcia" I reached into my pocket and pulled out "my" new iPhone 6. "Would you mind taking a photo of us? Chase wants one of the two of us together in our new place to show to his friends."

"Yeah, sure. No problem," he took the phone, but then glanced at Chase again. "But, uh, wouldn't you like to get dressed first?"

My voice boomed in Chase's head: "Tell. Him. No."

Immediately, the words burst out of Chase's mouth: "No."

I added to it, "Oh, Chase here is quite the exhibitionist, as you might have guessed from him letting you into the condo when he was only wearing a towel earlier and now greeting you at our bedroom door showing even more skin!"

Chase blushed, but didn't try to contradict me. He knew he'd lost his first battle of the day, although I suspected his impudent attitude would return in due time.

Garcia smiled and added, "Hey, with a tight little body like that, I'd be an exhibitionist too!" The two of us laughed while Chase turned a deeper shade of red.




Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 02



"So, where are we taking this picture?" Garcia asked.

"Oh, you know, this place has such an amazing view, I was thinking we'd get a shot out on the balcony."

I started heading that way and Garcia followed. Chase, of course, remained squarely where he was. He obviously had no intention of going outside in just his jock again.

Too bad he didn't have a choice! "OUTSIDE. NOW."

At my command, Chase swiftly ran out onto the balcony before either me or Garcia got out there. I noticed Garcia's eyes resting on Chase's ass as he passed by us. He didn't make any comments about Chase's beet red bottom — or, more accurately, "beaten red" bottom — but I was pleased that he'd seen it nonetheless.

I threw my arm around Chase's shoulders when I got outside and pulled him close. 

"POSE. NICELY." I mentally commanded.

Chase's body relaxed and he snuggled in close to me. He flashed his pearly white teeth and winning smile at Garcia.

"Okay, there. Just hold that pose." A couple flashes went off. "Great. Looks like I got a few good shots." He passed the phone back to me. 

Chase, interpreting this as the successful completion of my command, immediately withdrew from my side, slinking closer to the door back inside but not going through it.

Garcia was blocking his way. He gave Chase another slow look up and down. "You know, you sure are photogenic, Chaste."

"Uh... thanks," Chase replied, clearly uncomfortable. "But, uh, my name's 'Chase,' not 'Chaste'."

A puzzled expression made its way across Garcia's face. "Oh, really? Sorry for the mistake, but I was just going by what you have written on the front of your jock."

Chase blushed again, but didn't say anything. I took this as my cue to humiliate Chase even further: "It says 'CHASTE' because he's kept in chastity."

The puzzled look was still on Garcia's face. "What does that mean?"

I issued Chase a mental command: "Show. Him."

Chase held his head in shame as his hands swiftly moved on their own and pulled down the front of his jock.

"Oh!" Garcia exclaimed, cluing in the full implications of what "kept in chastity" meant. "That's, uh... Hmm. Well, yeah... Okay... Thanks for showing me, I guess?"

Chase took this brief exposure of his locked-up cock to have satisfied my command and quickly pulled his jock back in place.

Although Garcia clearly found this strange and said just as much in his fumbling response, I couldn't help but notice the obvious erection forming in his pants as soon as he saw Chase's caged nub. Strange though it may be, I didn't have to read Garcia's mind to know that he secretly must have also found it incredibly hot.

"I, uh, anyway... I should get back to helping the other guys out. There are probably a few more boxes that need to come up." With that, he handed the phone back to me and headed off.

I pulled up the pic Garcia had just taken. "Don't we make a cute couple, Chase?"

"Oh, fuck off," he muttered. "You know I'm not a goddamn fag."

I scanned him up and down. "You could have fooled me," I replied with a wink.

I spent a few minutes opening the apps on "my" new phone. I was pleased to find Chase was still signed in to his Facebook and Instagram. Just as I'd hoped, narcissist Chase had hundreds of Facebook "friends" and even more followers on Instagram.

"Can I go in now?" Chase was shifting his weight back and forth, squirming uncomfortably. I could tell he desperately wanted to go back inside before anyone in the neighbouring buildings spied him and his spanked-red bottom out here, but he was finally learning that he needed to wait for my permission before acting, lest he accidentally anger me again.

I didn't even look up from the phone. "When I'm done." I continued tapping away.

He continued to squirm. "Well, how long is this gonna take? What are you doing with my phone?"

"It's my phone, Chase. Remember?" 

I didn't look up, but I could tell Chase was sneering at me. Finally, he gave in: "Okay, fine. Fuck it, whatever... What are you doing with 'your' phone?"

"Just choosing the right Instagram filter..."

It took him a second to figure out what this meant. "Wait, what?!" I looked up and caught the priceless expression of total shock and disbelief on his face. "No fucking way! You can't post that picture online!"

"Well, it's a little late to protest that, Chase. The first thing I did was make it your Facebook profile pic."

His face went white.

I turned the phone so Chase could see what I was working on. "I think this filter makes our pic look the best. These colours really make the outline of your chastity cage stand out against the fabric of your jock, wouldn't you say?"

He immediately tried to snatch the phone away from me.

"FREEZE."

He stopped in mid action, hands frozen in their vain attempt to grab the phone. Where before I'd issued instructions to keep him in certain poses, this was a full body command. Nothing but his eyes moved.

I kept him like that as I finished what I needed to do on "my" phone. After successfully uploading our pic for his hundreds of followers to see on Instagram, I went back to his Facebook. It was blowing up with comments:

"WTF dude"

"LMAO is this for some gay tv show?"

"OMG! Chase! No way!"

"dude. what da fuck is this. did you turn queer or something"

I decided to fan the flames. I changed his profile information so that he was listed as "Interested in Men" and "In a relationship." I chose not to reply to the comments. I'd let his "friends" have their fun hounding him about this.

I closed those apps and moved on to something more important for Chase's new life to really begin: I installed Grindr. I quickly made him a profile, using the pic we'd just taken but cropping myself out of it. Chase looked preeminently fuckable with that killer smile, that great body on full display, and nothing but that little jockstrap to cover his little secret.

I filled out his profile quickly:

Name: CHASTE CHASE

About Me: i was a bad boy and now my cock is locked up... can i play with urs instead? ;-)

I figured that was enough damage to Chase's online persona for today and I headed back inside, hiding the phone in "my" bedroom where I knew Chase wouldn't find it. I took my time inside and checked on the movers' progress, casually chatting with them and directing them as they worked.

I made Chase wait outside, frozen in that position, because I wanted him to really think about what kind of power I had over him. To be honest, though, I was nearing my limits again. That strength I'd felt first thing in the morning was fading fast. I excused myself from supervising the movers and headed the bathroom. Just as I walked in, a little blood trickled down from my nose. 

I needed to use my abilities wisely for the rest of the day since I couldn't tell how many more strong commands I honestly had in me. It had only happened a couple times before, but if I tried to engage my mind control abilities beyond the power I actually had, then I would almost certainly pass out. This was something I could never risk doing in front of Chase.

Still, I wasn't afraid of anything like that happening yet. This nosebleed barely lasted a minute and all evidence of it was removed with the quick application of a Kleenex.

I headed back outside 20 minutes later to see Chase still in exactly the same pose. I sauntered right up to him and embraced him, groping his bare ass and kissing his half-open mouth. I didn't bother to read his mind because I already knew what he'd be thinking. I much preferred this peaceful moment of touching, caressing, and kissing him without interruption.

Eventually, I backed off. "Okay, I think you've learned your lesson." Into his mind: "Move. Again."

Nothing. He was still in the same position. I guess I was pushing it. I focused harder. "MOVE. AGAIN."

His body relaxed. He spat profusely, evidently revolted by my kissing him.

I winked at him. "Next time I'll put in a breath mint first."

He didn't reply. I was sure that being frozen like that had really shaken him. I hoped that he now believed my power was limitless.

I pulled out my wallet and counted some cash. "The movers should be finishing up just about now. Go pay them."

He stared at the money in my hand for a moment, considering what humiliation lay in store if he did this. He was weighing his options. What would another act of disobedience get him? In reality, I really don't think I could have mentally forced him to do anything again right then. My powers were spent for the time being. But thankfully, he didn't suspect that at all. Dejected, he took the money and, head held low in shame, made his way out to the main room.

I waited a moment and followed after he was out of sight. I stayed at the bedroom door and watched.

It might have taken a while, but Chase finally got exactly the humiliating exposure in front of all those strong working men that I'd hoped for earlier that day.

A couple of them laughed out loud when they saw him like that. Those two were standing slightly to the side of him and they could spy his spanked-red bottom. But most of the men just looked at this "scantily-clad queer" in confusion, unsure as to why he was exposing himself to them like this. Garcia was the only one who approached him.

Still staring at his feet, too ashamed to look up, Chase muttered, "Here's your money."

As soon as Garcia had it in his hands, Chase dashed back out of the room, running by me as he sought refuge in his — no, "my" bedroom.

"Thanks, guys! We can take it from here!" I called out.

All still bewildered by Chase's appearance and behaviour, they nonetheless picked up their things and headed out. Garcia paused a moment at the door, noticing something on top of the wad of cash: my business card.

He looked back at me. I gave him a knowing wink. "Be seeing you."

And with that, he was off.

I glanced at my watch. It was 2:30. I didn't have yet anything planned for the next few hours. I ran over ideas in my mind about what I needed to do next to make sure Chase continued to feel like the piece of property he now was.

I'd had a productive day so far. I'd dropped off the forms that will ensure Chase is rendered just as penniless as he deserves to be. I'd donated all of Chase's ill-gotten clothes to the needy. I'd purchased some of the things necessary for Chase's new sex life as a total bottom and I'd ordered in the rest. 

But most importantly, I'd succeeded in humiliating Chase in front of a group of strangers and in front of his "friends" all over the internet. My only regret was that only Garcia got to see Chase's tiny caged cock. I know I can't put that on his Facebook, but I should have at least made him show the movers that he's not a real man anymore. I can only hope that his "friends" who see his pic online will know what the "CHASTE" label above his package really means. And maybe, if I'm really lucky, Garcia is chatting with his buddies right now, having a laugh while he tells them about "that perverted fag" they saw in the red jockstrap and the shame he was hiding under it.

I heard my phone ringing out in the main room. This wasn't the phone I'd acquired from Chase, but rather it was my own phone which I'd set down on a table near door when I arrived. I recognized the number as The Market de Sade. Although it would still be a few days before my orders arrived, the items I'd left to be personalized were ready for pick-up.

"Chase!" I called out. "Come here, Chase! We're going out!"

****************

Author's note: My many thanks to everyone who provided their feedback on chapter 1. I really appreciate all your comments and ratings; I'll continue to take them into account as I write future chapters. Check back for chapter 3 next week.



Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 03



Chapter synopsis: Our narrator expands Chase's hell beyond his home, Chase's new wardrobe beyond the one jockstrap, and Chase's virgin asshole beyond its normal size.

*********

"I'm not going out like this!"

How long was it going to take Chase to figure out that he didn't have a choice? I wasn't "asking" him to do anything. I was telling him.

"Come on, man! Listen. I get it, okay? I know you want to be in charge or whatever. But I'm gonna get arrested if I go in public dressed like this!"

"And I'm supposed to care because...?"

"Oh, come on! I'll go with you wherever you want if you just give me something else to wear. I know your clothes must be in some of those boxes. You've gotta have something I can put on."

"You know, Chase, you're right. I do have something for you to wear."

He perked up at this, a confident smile appearing on his face. He must have thought he'd finally won a fight with me, reasoned his way out of his humiliation.

But the confident smile faltered when I walked right by the boxes and instead starting rummaging through a bag I'd set by the front door: my purchases from The Market de Sade.

I pulled out a studded dog collar and leash. They were both the same shade of red as Chase's jockstrap.

I turned to him and beamed. "Now, don't go telling me I don't have your best interests at heart. After all, it took me an extra 10 minutes to find one that would match the colour of your jock!"

His smile was long gone, replaced by an indignant sneer. "Dude. No fucking way!"

I mimicked his tone in derision. "Dude. Yes fucking way!"

I was getting tired of this back-and-forth. I wanted to get to The Market de Sade before they closed. I knew it would take some extra concentration, but I could speed this up with a mental command. It took a couple tries, but I got it through: "Put. It. On."

Once I'd laid the command, Chase sprung into action like a marionette once more. He ran right over to me and carefully donned his collar.

"Good boy," I said, giving him a pat on the head.

"Fuck off!"

I wondered briefly if I'd taken on more than I could handle with Chase. I didn't think I'd have to put up with his snarky attitude this much. Maybe this wasn't worth the time and effort.

But then I remembered what he did. Then I remembered who he was. He was cheater. He was a crook. He was trickster. He was a rapist. And he felt no guilt for being any of those things. Self-love still reigned supreme in his mind.

That energized me once more. I wasn't doing this for myself. I was doing this for the world.

With renewed power, I commanded: "FOLLOW. ME."

I took the leash and led the way out.

Chase was, of course, powerless to stop his legs from moving. But he continued yapping with that mouth: "No, no, no! Come on! I'll be good now, I promise. I'll do whatever you want! Just don't make me go out like this!"

I ignored him and continued walking at a steady pace down the hall to the elevator.

"Come on, we can't do this! One of my neighbours is gonna see me! Someone is gonna call the cops on me!"

I yanked his leash and pulled him along into the elevator.

"Chase, I already told you. I don't care if you spend the night in prison for your indecent exposure. In fact, I think I'd really like it if you had to spend the night in there. They'd probably put you in a cell with a bunch of horned-up, lowlife thugs. And with your little cock locked up and your naked ass on display, we both know exactly what they'd do to you."

That shut him up for the ride down to the ground floor.

As we stepped out of the elevator, I turned to him and added: "My only regret would be that I wouldn't get to be the first man to fuck you up the ass."

There were two young women standing in the lobby. They heard my comment to Chase and had a good look at how he was dressed — or, more accurately, "undressed." One of them blushed and tittered, the other just stared in disbelief: surely no one would really walk out in public like that? But they made no comment and neither did I. Chase simply held his head low in shame and followed behind me as they watched this surreal scene play out in front of them.

We made our way to my car. "Get in the back," I told him. This was a verbal command, but he obeyed. I think I'd worn him down for the time being. That attitude wouldn't flare up again for a while.

I hopped in the driver's seat and started us on our way. We sat in silence for several minutes. Chase was the one who spoke first:

"You're not serious about fucking me up the ass, are you?"

I didn't reply right away. I focused on driving, made him wait for a response.

"Chase, if I keep that cage on your cock as for long as I have planned, soon enough you're going to be begging me to fuck you up the ass just so you can get some kind of relief." 

I let that sink in for a minute as I moved us into another lane of traffic. "But it doesn't really matter if you ever ask me for it nicely. The answer is yes, Chase. Yes, I'm going to fuck you up the ass. I'm going to fuck you up the ass hard and I'm going to fuck you up the ass a lot." 

I turned onto a different street, again pausing my speech so every word would really sink in. "In fact, a lot of men are going to fuck you up the ass. Think of how many women you've fucked in your life and then multiply that number by ten." I paused. "Now multiply that new number by a hundred. That's how many men are going to ram their rock hard cocks into your tight little behind." 

I pulled into the parking lot of The Market de Sade. "You'd better get used to the idea now, Chase. In time, you'll come to understand your cock isn't even a sexual organ anymore. When it comes to sex, your ass is all that matters now."

Chase said nothing. I don't know what he felt. I didn't want to waste my energy reading his mind. Maybe he didn't believe me. Maybe he was desperately plotting an escape. Or maybe he'd finally given up and accepted the situation.

I put the car in park. "We're here."

I got out and went to open Chase's door. As I'd expected, he didn't jump out when I opened it. In fact, he scooted over to the other end of the back seat, withdrawing from the open door.

"Where are we?"

"You'll see. Come on." I picked up my end of Chase's leash and started walking. Chase was, of course, still helpless to resist my earlier command and he hopped right out of the car to follow me. I lingered next to the car for a minute before closing the door behind him and then leisurely meandered across the parking lot to the store's entrance. Chase was mortified, no doubt. I was drawing out as long as I could the time he spent outside, exposed like this in broad daylight.

The eyes of the man behind the counter lit up when we walked in.

"Hey! Welcome back!" He came right over to us. "I guess this must be your new boy," he said, giving Chase a once-over.

I yanked Chase's leash to pull him in closer. "Oh, and what makes you say that?" I asked in good humour.

We both had a laugh at that. Chase blushed, looked at his feet, probably wishing with all his heart that he could wake up from this nightmare.

The sales attendant tried to engage Chase in a handshake. "I'm Jeff," he said. Chase didn't reciprocate. He just continued to look down, still mortified by the situation.

Jeff turned back to me. "I guess he doesn't say much?"

"No. Thank God he's at least good to look at!" We laughed again.

"Yeah, I can see that," Jeff replied, ogling Chase all over. "Thanks for bringing him in like this. Most people are afraid to go out like that in public. But it really does the kink community a service when guys like you are open about who you are."

"I take serving my community very seriously. It's only right that we be honest about who we are. Right, Chase?"

Still nothing. Ah, well. I suppose this stone-walling was better than his belly-aching.

"Sorry, Jeff. Chase is a little shy... Well, except when it comes to his body, obviously!" Another chuckled was shared between us.

"So, I guess you're here to pick up your purchases? They're still in the back if you want to check them out and make sure everything's okay before you take them home."

"Great, thanks. Lead the way." I followed Jeff and Chase followed me to the store's back room. We passed by several men on the way back, all of them very paying close attention to Chase, all the naked flesh he had on display, and the humiliating way he was dressed.

I saw most of my purchases laid out on a large desk in the back.

"Which one do you want to try on first, Chase?"

Chase looked nauseated when he saw what was laid out. His hell was growing and growing.

On the table were the professionally-personalized jockstraps I'd requested that morning. All the colours of the rainbow, with two words written on all of them in a wide array of fonts. On the back of each one: CHASE. On the front: CHASTE.

"None of them," muttered Chase.

"Oh! So, you can speak after all?!" Jeff playfully remarked.

"Chase, it's okay. I know you probably want to model all of them for me at home tonight. But it's okay if you try one on right now. They're all the same style. Let's make sure it fits." I looked over the selection on the table. If Chase wasn't going to pick one, I would choose for him.

I picked one up. "How about you try on this one?" 

"No. No way." Chase wasn't making a big scene and I was thankful for that. But I couldn't let "my boy" openly disobey me in front of Jeff. After all, I apparently had a "reputation" to maintain for my fans in the kink community.

I had, of course, picked one of the most humiliating ones. But I thought this was only fair, seeing as Chase had declined to select one on his own. Although the wide waistband was just a plain white, the pouch at the front was thin mesh material in hot pink.

I tried to issue a mental command, but instead I felt lightheaded. Perhaps I really had maxed out my powers for the day.

I took a seat so I wouldn't fall right over. I tried to do this as inconspicuously as possible. I don't think either Jeff or Chase suspected anything was wrong, just that I had casually decided to sit down.

I guess I would have try to persuade Chase with my words.

"Chase, it would make me really happy if you would try this on for me here. And didn't you say earlier that you want to keep me happy?" I paused and looked him dead in the eyes. "After all, you know what happens when I'm not happy."

No doubt his thoughts returned to the violent spanking he received earlier that afternoon. His ass was still a little red, but unfortunately it wasn't so red that it attracted attention. His humiliation here would have to come from things other than a red bottom.

He acquiesced. "Okay... Whatever. If it will keep you happy." He took the hot pink jockstrap from me. "Where can I change into this?"

"Right here," I replied.

"Uh... I, uh... Isn't there a change room?"

Jeff laughed. "Well, yeah. But you're showing so much skin already. You aren't really going to tell me you're feeling modest all of a sudden?"

"Come on, Chase. Just do it here. Make me happy."

Chase swallowed hard and reached for the waistband of the jock he had on. I must have really done a number on him earlier today if he was willing to do this without any telepathic coercion whatsoever. Yet, after the brutal ass-beating, the freezing of every muscle in his body for almost an hour, and then the repeated public humiliations he'd been subjected to throughout the afternoon, I would have been more surprised if he was still going to disobey me.

He again hung his head low and pulled down his red jock, exposing his shame once more.

Jeff's eyes lit up. "Ooh!" He moved in closer, bent down to carefully inspect Chase's groin. "Is that a CB-3000 or CB-6000?" He reached right out and grabbed at Chase's cock cage. Chase, of course, drew back immediately and covered his crotch with his hands. "Oh, sorry there, buddy. Didn't mean to overstep my bounds! You just caught me off guard with the chastity device. I just love seeing a boy locked up in one."

That's when I noticed the necklace around Jeff's neck: like mine, it held a key. Though that could mean many things, Jeff's excitement over Chase's caged cock suggested to me that I'd found a kindred spirit here.

"That's the 3000," I informed him. "It's smaller than the 6000, so it fits Chase's little nub a lot better."

"Yeah, I could see he's pretty small," Jeff replied nonchalantly, not realizing that this would be a huge blow to Chase's ego. So far, only I had told Chase how pathetic his flaccid cock was. Maybe he could doubt one person. But now a total stranger concurred without batting an eyelash. "Is that why you ordered in the CB-6000S?"

"You got it."

"Yeah, it looks like his is still a bit loose. Half an inch less will make a big difference."

Chase's eyes widened and he went as white as a ghost, realizing that I intended to trap his cock in an even smaller cage.

"Anyway, I bet the smaller size will fit him like a glove," Jeff added.

"Speaking of fits, don't you want to model your new jock for me, Chase? I know Jeff here is enjoying your total nudity, but you know how I don't like seeing your so-called dick unless I need a laugh."

I know he didn't want to wear that jockstrap, but he definitely wanted something to cover himself with. He stepped right into it and pulled it right up over his locked-up cock.

It fit perfectly. I'd chosen just right.

The pouch on this hot pink jock was smaller and more transparent than the red one's. The outline of his chastity cage was entirely clear through the material.

The waistband was larger on this one. The dark black letters against stark white background made the word impossible to miss: CHASTE.

"Come on, Chase. Show us the back."

Chase reluctantly turned around.

Yes, it really was the perfect fit.

Above his ass: "CHASE." His butt was framed just right. I didn't think it was possible to improve on Chase's perky behind, but this jock gave it that "bubble butt" look.

It made me want to reach out and touch it. So I did.

My lightheadedness having now passed, I stood up and moved right behind Chase, giving him a firm slap on the ass.

He yelped and jumped at least a foot forward. Jeff and I had a good laugh at this.

"You look great, Chase," I told him.

"I feel ridiculous," Chase muttered, hands gently rubbing his stinging cheeks.

"Oh, I can tell why." I turned back to Jeff. "You see, Jeff, Chase here is such a fussy boy. He picked out that red jock earlier to match the red collar I put on him. And now the colours just don't work."

Chase shot me a dirty look, but said nothing. He was still holding himself in check.

"Say, Chase. Wouldn't you like to pick out another collar while we're here?" I shot him a wicked smile. "Jeff, maybe you can lead the way for us."

"Sure, no problem." Jeff led and I followed. My earlier command still worked on Chase and his legs immediately went into motion as I passed him and grabbed his leash.

"Wow, look at all the choices!" I prodded at Chase. "I bet you just want to take one of each home with us, huh?"

No response. Chase was stone-walling me again.

"Oh, I know why you aren't saying anything. You're just afraid to ask. But, the answer is yes. You can have more than one." I started to pick a few off their pegs.

Chase simply glared at me.

"How about you wear a hot pink one home? I'm sure that will satisfy your fashion sense."

I unhooked his red collar and replaced it with a pink one.

"Now, I think we should get a few neutral colours too." I picked a few more off their pegs. "Black goes with everything, right?"

Nothing.

I said it again with an added edge to my voice, now returning Chase's glare: "Right, Chase?"

He gave in. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's get some black ones."

Jeff jumped in. "You don't sound very happy, Chase. Aren't you grateful for what your Master is doing for you? He's being very generous."

"He's not my —"

I cut in. "Oh, he is grateful. He just doesn't like me spoiling him like this. You know what some of these sub boys can be like... Sometimes they think they only deserve pain and punishment. It can take a while to teach them they deserve so much more than just that." I winked at Chase.

"Yeah, I hear ya. I've had a couple boys like that," Jeff replied. "You gotta balance the pain and pleasure, ya know?"

"Exactly," I said, nodding in agreement. I turned back to Chase, holding up the collars again. "Nothing but the best for my boy, right?"

"Okay, yeah... Just get me whatever you think 'I deserve'." There was an edge to this comment and a subtext that Jeff likely missed. But the thing was, even though Chase wasn't really a sub boy I was lovingly spoiling as Jeff had assumed, he really did deserve to wear all these dog collars. Albeit, for different reasons.

Finally, I pulled down a white leash and hooked that up to Chase's pink collar.

"There. I think that matches well. Why don't you have a look for yourself?"

I led Chase toward a full-body mirror on the other side of the store and Jeff excused himself to go help some other customers.

"Holy shit," Chase muttered in disbelief when he saw himself. "I look fucking ridiculous."

"Perfect. That's exactly the look I was going for when I picked out your outfit. If you thought what you wore in here was embarrassing, you're really going to hate our trek home!"

Chase lowered his head and covered his face. I heard a small sob. "Why are you doing this to me?" he croaked.

I leaned to his ear and whispered: "Because this is what you deserve."

He sobbed again, but sucked it up. He wasn't going to cry. He held it back, composed himself, attempted to hold on to some shred of dignity and masculinity. He wasn't going to lose it in front of all these people in the store. He wasn't going to lose it in front of me... Yet.

I pulled Chase up to the checkout where Jeff had already brought out the jockstraps. I laid out the collars we were buying and pulled out the price tags for the collar and leash Chase had on.

As he finished ringing me through, Jeff looked up and smiled. "Like I said this morning, I'm really glad you've found a new boy." He handed me my bags. "You two make a really cute couple."

I smiled and thanked him for everything, pulling Chase back through the store slowly, letting everyone get another good look at him.

Jeff's comments brought up mixed feelings in me again. Someone else was happy for me. Maybe the whole "kink community" was going to be happy for me. Jeff thought I was happy, that I'd found a new boy. But, truth be told, I still pined for the one I'd lost.

I led Chase to the car slowly once more, but it was less fun this time. It was growing dark and the parking lot wasn't well lit. I doubt anyone got a look at him. I was disappointed.

The ride home was quiet. I was still deep in thought. Chase was likely licking his wounds.

More disappointment back at my building. We didn't see anyone this time and Chase didn't seem as mortified, despite being dressed in an even more humiliating way. Perhaps he was finally starting to accept his fate?

When we got in, I took off his collar and held it up in front of his face. "Whenever we go out, it's going to be just like that. You're never going to wear any more than a jockstrap. And if you're stepping foot outside our home, you will always be collared and I will always be holding the leash. Got it?"

"Fine. Sure. Whatever..." Chase grumbled, still holding his head low.

"Good. Now, go make us dinner."

"I don't cook," responded Chase matter-of-factly.

"Remember all the hired help at the Warren estate? Not just the ones you raped and whose lives you ruined, but all of them. I know you treated them all like shit. You had them all waiting on you hand and foot. Well, now it's your turn. Go make me dinner." 




Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 03



"Fuck... Fine. Fine. Whatever." He turned towards the kitchen, but didn't move. "I, uh. Oh... I, uh, still have to follow you..." he sheepishly reminded me.

I hoped I had the energy to remove that earlier command, or this was going to be an interesting night. I focused hard until I finally felt like I was in his mind.

Blood trickled down from my nose. I pushed Chase out of the way and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

I hurried to wipe the blood away, tilted my head back to stop the bleeding. This one was a doozy. I must have held my head back for 15 minutes before the blood finally stopped. 

My head pounded. I dug through Chase's medicine cabinet and took the first painkiller I found.

I splashed some cold water on my face and then met my own eyes in the mirror, wondering what I might have gotten myself into. This was the first time I consciously realized what a dangerous situation this could be.

As long as I could issue mental commands, I was safe. But that was a limited ability and I was going to be living with Chase 24/7 from now on.

I envisioned myself as a matador and Chase as the bull. I was safe if I was quick. I could taunt him all I wanted and get the audience to cheer at my brave feats. But one wrong move and that bull would gore me to death.

If Chase realized my control over him was not unlimited, he might seriously hurt me. He might really kill me. I knew that my long-term control over his cock cage guaranteed me some security even if I couldn't issue new commands, but I was really putting Chase through the ringer. I'd taken away all his prized possessions and I'd humiliated him more in the last 24 hours than he'd ever been humiliated in the last 24 collective years of his life. He might not be thinking rationally. He might lash out, forgetting that only I could give control of his cock back to him. He might rage at me like a bull, consequences be damned.

But there hadn't yet been a knock at the door. I was safe for now. I hoped that Chase hadn't seen the nosebleed or at very least did not know what it meant.

I cautiously headed back out. I didn't spot Chase at first. Actually, the last place I looked was right where I had in fact told him to go.

I stepped into the kitchen and caught the sight of him from behind. I took in the sight of a young man's smooth skin, his rippling shoulder muscles, his firm thighs, his perky buttocks. He was facing the oven, preparing some food on the stovetop. My eyes rested briefly on the waistband: CHASE. Yes, this is what I liked to think of when I thought of Chase: servitude, a fit physique, and an inviting, naked ass.

He started dishing out the food, caught sight of me. My reverie was broken as he turned to me and glared menacingly. Though his features were undeniably handsome, they seemed always to be contorted into hateful expressions when he laid eyes on me. I much preferred the look of him from behind.

"There. I did what you said," he informed me in a resentful tone. "Eggs. Scrambled eggs. I know how to make those."

No comment about the nosebleed. No questions about my dash the bathroom. Perhaps he suspected nothing, after all.

"I'll have mine at the table. You eat in here."

He cocked his head. "What?! Why can't I eat at my own table?"

"It's my table, Chase. The help doesn't get to sit there. The help eats in the kitchen." I pushed past him, picking up one of the plates. "You're lucky I'm not making you eat it from a bowl on the floor like a dog."

That shut him up. I took my dinner to the table and looked out over the city. This view was even nicer at night.

The eggs were vile. Maybe Chase had intentionally made them this bad to spite me tonight. Otherwise, he was going to have to spend a lot more time in the kitchen learning how to cook.

I ate most of the meal, but eventually gave up. It tasted awful. 

I took my plate back out to the kitchen after looking out over the city for a while longer. I'd have to explain to Chase soon that a good servant collects the plates from the table. But I was willing to let it slide for tonight.

"Wash this."

He eyed the plate disdainfully for a moment, but gave in to my request. He turned to the sink and ran the water to wash up the dishes. I enjoyed this view, too, resting my eyes on Chase's exposed bum once more.

"What was with the nosebleed?" He asked casually, not looking up from the dishes.

My blood ran cold. Shit. He'd noticed.

I kept composure and replied nonchalantly: "It must be the altitude. I've never lived so high up before."

"Oh, yeah. Huh." He scrubbed at the pan. "So, it doesn't have anything to do with your powers?"

Chase was losing at this game if he thought he was being subtle. I replied with a firm and decisive "No." 

He didn't pry anymore. He knew something was up, but I still had the upper hand since he didn't know just yet what the limits of my powers were. Plus, I still "had him by the balls."

"All right. I'm done with the dishes." He turned back to me, adding a sarcastic: "Anything else I can do for you, 'your majesty'?"

I was feeling weak. Though it was still early in the evening, I could feel my bed calling for me.

"Just one more thing today, Chase. Come on."

We headed back out to the main room. You could see out over the entire city until I turned on all the lights. Then the entire city could see in.

I rummaged through one of the bags from The Market de Sade.

"Brace yourself against the window, Chase. Face out towards the city. Palms up on the glass, legs apart."

"Are you serious?"

"No, Chase. I just thought it would be funny to give you a direct instruction I didn't really mean." I continued rummaging through the bag. "Of course I'm fucking serious. Why do you keep asking that? Go brace yourself against the window before I make this worse for you."

It was a vague threat, but an effective one nevertheless. Chase did as he was told. We both knew that, with the lights on like this, anyone looking in from a neighbouring building or looking up from the street below would be able to see him.

But they wouldn't just be seeing Chase's humiliating outfit this time. I found what I needed and came up behind Chase.

"Chase, I want you to stay still until I'm done. Can you do that for me?"

"Uh... sure. Yeah. But, uh, what are you doing?"

I stepped in closer, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him tight. My cock was straining hard against my pants as I rubbed it firmly against Chase's bare ass. Only a thin layer of fabric separated my throbbing cock from the hole it so desperately wanted to plunder.

"Be patient, my friend," I thought to myself. "You'll get in there soon enough." I would violate Chase's virgin hole when the time was right. But I had a longterm plan in mind here.

I suspected Chase was planning for the longterm, too. Why else would he have let me do this to him? Maybe now he was just biding his time until he figured out the limits of my powers and found a way to engineer his escape.

But his escape was not a foregone conclusion. I still believed I could control Chase, even if my telepathy had its limitations.

I leaned in to nibble and lick at Chase's ear. I could see in the window's reflection that he was vainly attempting to suppress a look of disgust. But if I could see that, he could also see himself being treated like a plaything by another man. I ran my hands over his fit, naked torso and grinded harder against his bare ass.

"Chase..." I spoke softly into his ear. "You've learned a lot of the rules for your new life today. You learned that you can never wear anything more than the jock that keeps your silly little penis out of my sights. You learned that any time you go out in public from now on, I'll be walking you like a dog." I paused and tweaked his nipples. This elicited a strong flinch, but not enough for him to get away from my grip. "And now I have another rule to tell you."

I backed off and bent down so that my face was level with his ass. I parted his cheeks and got a look at the virgin hole I'd been lusting after. I couldn't resist going in for a taste.

"Wha— woah!" Chase violently squirmed away from me. "Dude, what fuck was that?"

"Sorry, Chase. Couldn't resist tasting your tight little pussy. It just looked so inviting. You know what that's like, right?" He sneered at me. "Or, on second thought, maybe you don't. I can't imagine you ever went down on the women you were with. You're lucky you're with a gentleman like me now."

"Don't... Don't go down on my ass." He held back from full out rage. Long-term planning.

"That wasn't my plan tonight, anyway. I was going to tell you another rule." I picked up a small, black, rubber butt plug. "For the rest of your life, you're going to sleep with something buried in your ass. Now, I'm being nice to you tonight. You get to start off easy with this little guy. But I hope that, when you're ready, you'll choose to sleep with my cock buried between your ass cheeks instead."

Chase's face now displayed an open revulsion.

"It can be very nice, going to sleep that way, with me spooning you and 'forking' you at the same time," I laughed at my own joke.

"I'm not taking ANYTHING up my ass, you fucking faggot! I'm NOT a goddamn queer!"

"You don't have a choice, Chase. It's a rule. I make the rules. You follow the rules. That's how this works."

"There's no goddamn way I'm sleeping with that thing inside me."

"I don't particularly care if you sleep. But while I'm slumbering peacefully tonight, your asshole has to be plugged. That's just the way it's gotta be."

"Fuck this. I'm not taking any of your queer toys up my ass, all right?" Chase turned away, headed towards the bedroom. "I don't care if you stay here. Hell, seems like I really can't get rid of you. But this is MY home and I'm going to sleep in MY bed!"

I risked it. It worked on the first try, too. It was a pleasant surprise, my voice booming into Chase's mind: "COME. BACK. HERE. AND. TAKE. IT."

The look on his face was priceless. He was caught totally off-guard as his legs turned him around and marched him right back over to me. His certainty about escaping his fate was once again shaken. I surprised even myself with the ability to issue that final command for the day.

To add insult to his injury, after he reached his destination, he watched in horror as his body betrayed him. He bent over in front of me and spread his cheeks.

"Hmm, I'd prefer it you were up against the window again."

His body went into action. He pressed right against the window, reaching back to part his cheeks in front of my face again.

"Perfect. I don't think they'll be able to see from down on the street, but I bet some of the people in the buildings over there will be able to make out your expression as your hole gets stretched for the first time."

I grabbed a larger butt plug. "You should have taken the first one while you could, Chase. As punishment, I'm starting you off with one you're really going to feel."

I lubed up my fingers and pushed two at a time right into his virgin hole.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" He screamed out.

His body maintained the same position, despite his hooting and hollering. 

"Oh, Chase. Damn. Your hole is so tight! Wow." I continued to finger him roughly, adding in a third digit. "You're lucky I'm a gentleman, Chase. Any lesser man would just shove his cock right up in here if felt how tight your pussy was." 

I slapped his ass cheeks with my free hand. "In fact, come to think of it, isn't that exactly what you did with the tight pussies you felt?" I rammed my three fingers in harder. "Isn't that what you did with Juanita?"

Of course, Chase didn't answer my questions. He was preoccupied with his cries of pain and pleas for mercy. But I knew he heard me.

"Anyway, Chase. You're lucky I'm not the kind of man that you used to be." I picked up the butt plug and started to slowly insert it. "At least this way you'll be able to really enjoy getting fucked when I finally shove my dick inside you." The butt plug was almost all the way in. "I'm doing you a favour here. Prepping you for what's in store."

The butt plug went all the way in and I was surprised that Chase's yelps of pain gave way to a contented sigh as it did. Not quite a moan, but definitely more than I expected.

I felt lightheaded then. I'd done what I'd needed to do.

Chase had also done what he'd had to do. His body relaxed. His hands reached down and felt at the flat end of the butt plug still sticking out of his ass.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll leave it in." Another vague threat, but I'd made my point tonight. That stopped him for the time being.

"This thing fucking hurts!"

"You'll get used to it."

The world was full-on spinning around me now. My head was throbbing. I got up, a little shaky on my feet.

"Good night, Chase." I tried my best to act like nothing was wrong. I don't know how well I accomplished this. I was singly focused on getting to the bedroom and couldn't pay attention to each minor movement I made.

Upon reaching my bedroom, I still had enough wherewithal about me to lock the door behind me. And then I crashed down into the bed, fully exhausted.

I looked forward to a night of peaceful slumber. Much more peaceful than Chase's would be, I was sure of that. Although I'd pushed myself beyond my limits, I still had Chase under my control. I did everything I set out to do to him today. I put him in his place and I would continue to keep him there. 

I was still an agent of justice and I would not be stopped before justice was done. And doing justice meant using Chase like my own personal fuck toy.

I sighed contentedly at that and drifted off to sleep.

**************

Author's note: Thank you again to everyone who read the last two chapters and gave their input — either through comments, ratings, or emails. I don't know yet when I'll have time to write chapter 4, so please be patient. Hopefully it will be written and posted before the end of the month!



Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 04



Chapter 4: Dogged Determination

Synopsis: With his powers seemingly exhausted, our narrator recruits help to keep Chase in his place.

****************

I awoke with a throbbing headache. I felt hungover. The sun shining in through the room's many windows strained my eyes. As much as I just wanted to stay in bed, eventually I pulled myself up so that I could close the curtains.

That's when I noticed the bed. The sheets that had been a brilliant white last night were now mired with splotches of red. My pillow was drenched in dried blood and I could spot red in a few places on the linens that had been near my face. I held my hand up to my nose and felt plentiful dried blood beneath my nostrils.

I set about quickly changing the sheets. I didn't want to chance letting Chase see this. It was bad enough that he'd noticed my nosebleed when I sent him a mental command yesterday. I'd only fuel his insubordination if he saw all this and realized just how much overusing my mental abilities could ultimately harm me.

I used the stained sheets to wipe away the dried blood beneath my nose as best I could before tossing them in the laundry hamper. I now needed to somehow get to the bathroom to wash off the rest without Chase spotting me.

I unlocked the door and cracked it just a bit, spying out of the room as best I could. I didn't see Chase anywhere. I took my time opening the door the full way and setting off towards the bathroom. Still no sign of Chase.

Where could he be? Was it possible that he'd actually left? I realized then that I'd been extremely careless the night before. Although I had enough wherewithal about me to lock the bedroom door, all this did was guarantee that Chase wouldn't be entering my room.

But what if he'd simply left through the front door? It was foolish of me to assume that, just because he remained here the first night, he would do so again last night. That first night, he probably had no idea what really lied in store for him: at that point, he may have thought he could still talk his way out of his punishment and, in that context, sticking around likely outweighed the risk of the possible embarrassment that could ensue if he left the condo with nothing more than a towel to cover his shame.

But last night was different. I'd really run him through the ringer yesterday. He desperately wanted to escape from me now. 

Yes, he would be running a big risk of further public humiliation if he'd left wearing only a towel. It would be a massive blow to what still remains of his ego if the towel were to fall off and even more people saw him in his CHASTE / CHASE jockstrap — or worse, if they saw him totally naked save for the cage around his little flaccid penis. But maybe that was a risk he was willing to take to escape the fate that lies in store for him here.

I continued making my way slowly through the condo and still didn't spot him anywhere. It was seeming more and more likely with each passing minute that Chase really had escaped. I cursed myself for being so stupid and leaving him unguarded last night.

Then I noticed the bathroom door was closed. I slowly opened it a crack and spotted him right away.

As the door creaked slightly, Chase's head shot up to find the source of the noise. He was sitting naked on the edge of the tub, his complexion pallid and his eyes framed by dark circles. 

I almost felt sorry for him, seeing him in what I took to be a sad state. He looked like death warmed over. Or, more accurately, he would have looked like "death warmed over" if death had a fit, naked body and a tiny, caged cock.

He grabbed a towel as soon as he realized I was peering in at him, wrapping it around his waist swiftly. I was about to remind him that he wasn't allowed to cover up anything other than his pathetic nub, but in no time he had flung the door open and pushed past me.

I didn't follow right then. Instead, I went in and splashed cold water on my face to wash the dried blood away. I fumbled around in the medicine cabinet and finally found the painkillers I took yesterday. I tripled my dose today.

And then I noticed the things strewn all around the bathroom.

First my eyes went to the workmen's tools covering the counter: pliers, screw drivers, wrenches. Perhaps Chase had tried to break into my bedroom last night? All of my clothes had been left in there. If he could get in to the bedroom and put on some of my clothes, he'd greatly raise his chances of a successful escape without risking any public humiliation.

And then I noticed knives from the kitchen. 

Jesus Christ. My blood ran cold. I envisioned a fate nearly avoided: Chase forcing his way into my bedroom with the tools and then stabbing me to death in my sleep.

And then I saw his laptop sitting on counter. It was open to a Google search page: "how to remove chastity device"

My mood did a complete 180. I went from fearing for my life to laughing uproariously in a heartbeat.

Chase must have grabbed everything he could think of to try and free his cock from its prison. I smiled gleefully at the image of what he must have looked like all last night, picking up one tool after another, bringing it towards the chastity device, and then having absolutely no idea how to proceed once it got there. 

I wish I'd been there to see him struggling in vain against not only his chastity cage, but his own mind. His own thoughts would have betrayed him again and again, falling to pieces every time he turned them to the question of how he might set his manhood free.

Then a small, shiny object on the edge of the counter caught my eye: the key to his chastity device.

Sneaky bastard.

Reassuring as it was to know for sure that, even with the key, Chase could not possibly remove the device himself, I was also perturbed. Chase had somehow managed to lift the key off me in my stupor last night. I thought I had been more aware of the situation. I couldn't recall an instance where he could have grabbed it without my noticing. Was I really that out of it as I stumbled to my bedroom last night?

I picked up the key and stormed out to find Chase.

He was easy enough to locate. He was perched on a chair the movers had left near one of the large windows in the main room. He stared out blankly at the vista, looking utterly forlorn.

I dangled the key inches from his face. He snapped back to reality. A deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression quickly formed on his face.

I peered down at him. My voice was ice cold: "Chase. I am VERY disappointed in you."

"Look... If you think I stole your key, I didn't, okay? I just found it on the floor in here after you went to bed last night."

I tried to peer into his mind and find out if this was the truth or another of Chase's trademark deceptions. Normally, this would be a simple and easy thing for me to do. But the second I tried to tune into his thoughts, I just felt pain rising up in my head again. Was it possible I'd totally exhausted my powers?

This was something to figure out later. I remained stone-faced, unwilling to let Chase know that I couldn't read his mind. I didn't move an inch, just continued to peer down at him. He could tell I didn't believe him.

"Shit lot of good it did me, anyway..." He pouted like a spoiled child briefly, but this expression quickly morphed into an indignant sneer more befitting of an teenage punk. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

"Exactly what you deserved to have done to you."

"Oh, fuck you and your fucking riddles. How the fuck is this even possible?! I know how a motherfucking lock works... I just... I just can't seem to... Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ! This can't be happening! I can't even unlock my own goddamn door!"

I tried again to remain stone-faced, not wanting to let my surprise show. A realization dawned on me. I must have gone much deeper into Chase's mind than I'd originally realized when I'd made the mental changes to stop him from being able to remove his chastity device. It wasn't a specific thing I'd erased from his mind; it wasn't the specific act of unlocking the thing that kept his cock trapped. It was every lock. He had no idea how to unlock the door. 

I wondered how long he'd known this. It occurred to me that I hadn't locked the door behind me that first night and I was thankful Chase hadn't attempted an escape then. I made a mental note to make sure that door stayed locked from now on. 

I was starting to feel that I was in control once more. I'd really outdone myself that first night. I had no idea I' d gone so deep, but I was pleased to discovered that I had.

Chase had evidently expected some reply from me while I was thinking through what he'd said. His sneer turned even more indignant. "Why the fuck are you doing this me?! Just who the fuck do you think you are?!"

I gave him a wicked smile. Cryptic answers were all that he was going to get today. "Isn't it obvious, Chase? I'm your Master."

He groaned and tried to push past me. I stopped him, pushing him back down on the chair. This was made easier by the fact that one of his hands was occupied with ensuring his towel stayed wrapped around his waist. Somehow, despite the fact that I'd seen him naked and humiliated many times now, he still thought he could rescue his dignity with a towel covering him today.

"Stay sitting. I want to tell you something."

He snapped back immediately: "Why don't you just make me?"

I grimaced.

"You have a pretty shitty pokerface, dude." This time he successfully pushed past me and headed off to the kitchen.

Shit. He was on to me. This boy might not be as dumb as I first thought.

But I still had the upper hand.

I joined Chase in the kitchen. He was making breakfast, apparently just for one. And something told me I wasn't the one he was making it for.

I decided not to push my luck. I would get something for myself later.

The morning was not going as I'd hoped. Even now, I had to content myself with only being able to watch a half-naked Chase as he worked instead of a more fully exposed version. My eyes rested on his ass, but it just wasn't the same with the towel covering it. Why can't he just accept the rules? His ass should always be on display for me.

Judging by his apparent ease of movement — he wasn't acting like he had something shoved up his ass — I suspected the toy I'd inserted last night wasn't plugging up his hole anymore. I wonder how long he actually left it in for? I'd have to think of some way to ensure the one I shove up there tonight stays in until morning. That's the rule, after all. And rules are made to be followed.

"I'm going to work today, Chase," I announced. 

He didn't look up from the toast he was buttering. It occurred to me that Chase had no idea what my actual profession was. I decided not to elucidate the matter for him. He could figure it out for himself. He had met me as a "casting director" two days ago. For all he knew, maybe I really was a casting director and that was my primary source of income. He knew I performed some other services — after all, I told him Vivian had come to me to enlist my help — but likely he had no idea what my day-to-day life actually consisted of. Likewise, he probably had not yet realized that I was very wealthy and he was now a total pauper.

"I want you to do some things while I'm out. First, get yourself some sleep. You look like shit."

He finally looked up from what he was doing so he could glare at me. Even with the dark circles under his eyes, in reality Chase still looked like a million bucks. In his previous life, anyone who told him he "looked like shit" most likely would have received less of a glare and more of a punch in the face. Though he was starting to doubt the extent of my powers, he still held himself in check: an act of violence would probably be pushing his luck. I might be weakened, but still not totally defenceless. 

"Second, pick out another jockstrap to wear. You should keep yourself looking nice for me." I swiftly came up behind him and gave him a firm smack on the ass with that comment. He immediately swatted my hand away and glared again, but didn't comment. 

I was tempted once again to try and use my powers. Indignant little shit, swatting my hand away like that. I badly wanted to make him drop the towel and bend right over the counter so I could spank the living daylights out of his rear, but once again I simply felt my headache returning.

"Third, clean up that mess you left all over the bathroom. Fourth, start unpacking the boxes in the living room. This is my home now and I want it to start looking that way."

He somehow managed to push by me with one hand securing his towel and the other holding his breakfast, heading out to the table. "I'm not your goddamn butler," he muttered.

He took a seat at the table. That impudent little punk.

"Chase, I told you yesterday that 'the help' doesn't get to eat at the table."

He raised his arms in frustration. "And I just told you, I'm not your goddamn butler!"

I walked up right next to him and peered down. "I don't think you're my butler, Chase. After all, a butler has to be a man." I let that sink in for a minute, his thoughts no doubt returning to the cage that kept his dick in its permanently flaccid state. "What I do think, however, is that you're my house boy."

He scowled at this, but wasn't going to fight me now. He turned back to his food and started to eat.

Without my the use of my powers, I decided I had to use the tactics of persuasion everyone else had to use every day. I decided to bargain. 

I took off my necklace and dangled the key in front of him again. "The reason you're going to do all those things today is that, if you do, I'll take that cage off your little buddy."

He perked up at this. Could it be true? Did he dare believe me?

Of course, I was stretching the truth. I left out some qualifying terms: if he did these things, I'd take that cage off — but at some undefined point in the future. Certainly not tonight.

I made a mental note to look into how long a chastity device could be left on without causing permanent damage. My other boys came with some experience and prior chastity training. How many weeks could I leave Chase's cock in its cage when he normally got off at least once every day? 

I wished badly that I could peer into his mind and find out just how horny he was getting. Alas, no such luck. His thoughts were a mystery to me today.

Chase didn't say anything in reply to my offer. Maybe he knew I was toying with him. He continued munching away on his meal. I don't know if I'd convinced him or not. But I did know I was sick of dealing with him. I left the table and gathered up what I needed.

I picked out a nice, fitted suit to wear today and set about gathering things up, taking care to lock the bedroom door and ensure that Chase wouldn't be able to get anything to wear. 

Eventually, Chase glanced up at me as I packing my bag. I sprung my line on him, motioning to my dapper outfit for the day: "Clothes really make the man, huh?" I laughed at my own joke, but half-naked Chase clearly didn't find it funny.

The last thing I collected was Chase's — correction, "my" laptop. It had almost slipped my mind that Chase didn't own a single thing anymore. This was my laptop now and Chase shouldn't be using it without my permission.

I noticed that Chase had flopped onto the couch and was watching TV. This didn't bode well for the day. I would probably be unpacking those boxes on my own and making dinner for myself tonight.

"I'll be back at 6:00. Have dinner ready." Chase didn't look away from the TV.

I performed blowing him a kiss quite theatrically, adding "See you tonight, honey." I'm sure he knew what I was doing, but he kept his eyes locked on the TV, tuning me out as much as he could.

I didn't go right to work. In truth, I didn't have to. Although prospective clients sometimes dropped by unannounced, most of my dealings were planned well in advance. So far, I had nothing scheduled for today.

With some hesitation, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contact list. I had to find a number I called very rarely: my brother's.

I mentioned previously that there are many people with telepathic powers. The vast majority of them have very weak ones and don't even know that they have them. They go through life with an advantage they never quite understand and powers of persuasion they chalk up to rhetoric instead of mind control. 

However, there are also others who have powers like mine.

In fact, there are those with powers greater than mine. My brother was one such person.

Do not misunderstand the differences in our abilities. My brother cannot control my mind. My mental abilities are definitely well-developed ones; I could almost always prevent him from entering my mind. He was not necessarily stronger than me, but simply more naturally talented.

What set him apart from me was the ease with which he controlled unsuspecting minds.

With me, the use of telepathy always required considerable focus and concentration. With him, it was like a simple biological function, like breathing. He moved in and out of minds like the rest of us move between rooms.

Still, there were other things that set him apart from me, too. One of those things was morality — or, more accurately, the lack thereof.

Indeed, that was why it had been years since I'd spoken to my brother. He'd done things that disgusted me. He abused his powers, treated people like puppets.

I dialled his number and got his voicemail. This was not surprising. It was still early in morning and, if my brother's habits were the same as they were last time we'd spoken, I doubted that he'd be getting out of bed before noon. Another thing that set us apart: where I led my life in a businesslike way, he led his like a rockstar.

My message was simple: "It's me. I need your help with something. Get back to me today."

I had recruited my brother's help once before. It was at a time when I had taken on a huge mind control project. I'd been hired to change a very high-ranking officer's mind on the issue of gay men serving in the military.

Accomplishing a major policy change didn't just require changing this one man's mind, though. I had to work my way up the ranks, entering the minds of dozens of soldiers and bureaucratic underlings over several weeks before I had changed enough of them that they would let me waltz right into my target's office and "present my proposal" to him.

During the weeks I slowly put that plan into motion, I had headaches like I'd never had before. Nosebleeds, too — though nothing as bad as the ones I've gotten since I'd started controlling Chase.

As the headaches and nosebleeds got worse, I'd considered just dropping the project altogether. But I was committed to it. I was doing it not simply because a client had hired me to do it, but more so because I personally wanted this policy change to happen.

Realizing that I was out of my depth, I'd enlisted my brother's help.

I should have been more suspicious when he readily agreed. But, in much the same way that he can't easily enter my mind, I likewise cannot enter his. His motives will always be a mystery to me.

We worked well together for the week leading up to our meeting with the high-ranking officer. My brother was charming, easily mixing flattery and charisma with telepathic control to persuade a series of secretaries and other officers to let us get close to our target.

But his deviant ways came out when the meeting finally arrived.

For an ageing man, our target was surprisingly handsome. A real man's man: broad shoulders, square jaw, deep voice. As I've said previously, my "type" tends to be young, fit sub boys. But I'm not blind, either: a handsome man is a handsome man.




Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 04



Yet, in this respect, the situation was not unlike my first meeting with Chase: physically appealing on the outside, but revolting on the inside.

In the end, I don't know what caused him to change his mind on the military's policy. It was possible that I'd done what I set out to do, that I'd targeted the right thoughts and changed them all on my own. Or maybe my brother did that. But, I have my doubts about both those possibilities.

More likely his opinion on the matter changed after my brother fucked him up the ass.

It was hard to say for sure just what changed his mind. The long and short of it is that things got a little out of hand.

It started out like it was supposed to. I asked our target about the military's policies on gay men's service and his thoughts on the matter rose to the surface. Verbally, he parroted all the usual answers, evading the question best as he could. But in his mind there was nothing but unbridled, vitriolic hate for gays and lesbians.

I was singly focused on hearing his thoughts and didn't notice when my brother got up and went over to the officer. Apparently he'd been listening to the same thoughts and had his own solution to the problem.

When my brother pulled out his cock and shoved it into the officer's mouth, I clued in to the situation.

I objected, of course. We argued loudly while this 100% straight, homophobic high-ranking military officer continued to blow my brother with gusto in the middle of his office.

I couldn't stop my brother. I was furious. I was sure that this would jeopardize weeks of work and months of planning. I stormed out, leaving him there to handle it himself.

My brother called me later that day and gave me lurid details. By the time he'd left, the officer had taken a few loads down his throat and two up his ass. My brother had apparently had quite a lot of fun. The officer's uniform was left in tatters. Files were strewn across the room, having flown away wildly when I pushed everything aside so that I could fuck him on his desk. My brother said his favourite part was that a broken picture frame was lying on the floor, a photo of the officer's wife looking up at him.

My brother didn't try to erase the officer's memory. He didn't try to explain anything. He just zipped up and left.

He finished his account with the words "mission accomplished." I hung up immediately.

In the end, the policy was indeed changed and we got off scot-free. But I didn't want to risk such careless behaviour again. That, coupled with a series of other insane scenarios my brother brought about in the following months, definitely caused me to keep my distance from him. It wasn't long after that before my brother and I had a falling out and lost touch.

Still, I had to admit that I'd taken on a lot with Chase. I couldn't shirk my responsibility here; I had an obligation to fulfill. Chase had been a public menace: a cheater, a crook, and a rapist. I needed to put him in his place and that was apparently going to take a lot more time and energy than I'd originally bargained for.

I doubted I'd hear back from my brother before noon, provided that he was going to contact me at all. This left me with some time to kill. There were things I could work on at my office, but not enough for an entire day.

I drove to a nearby Starbucks to pick up a bite to eat. 

The young man who took my order was adorable. "Bobby," his name-tag read.

"Okay, triple Americano and a breakfast sandwich. Will that be all, Sir?" Bobby asked.

I felt blood rushing to my cock when he added the "Sir" at the end. I pictured making him follow me to the men's room and roughly fucking his pretty little mouth while he looked up at me with those soft blue eyes.

"Sir?"

I snapped back to reality. "Oh, uh, sorry. Guess I was lost in thought. Uh, yes. That's all."

I looked into his soft blue eyes, half wondering if I should try to use my telepathy right then to make my fantasy a reality. Since taking on Chase two days ago, I hadn't gotten off once. I wasn't the one in chastity; why shouldn't I be having some fun?

But I couldn't. Not just because I wasn't sure if my powers were even available to me at that moment. I knew it would be wrong to take advantage of him. I am not my brother. I am a principled man.

But worse, I realized who those soft blue eyes reminded me of: Bryan.

I wasn't picturing Bobby slobbering all over my cock in the men's room, not really. I was picturing Bryan. I was picturing the boy who got away.

I took a seat and pulled out what used to be Chase's laptop, typing "Facebook.com" into the address bar of his browser.

Chase was still signed in. I was dismayed to discover he had tried to undo the damage I'd done to his reputation yesterday.

The picture of us together was gone. There instead was a strikingly handsome photo of Chase in a full tuxedo. I enlarged the picture and realized it was from his wedding day. 

The photo looked professionally done. I wouldn't put it past a self-absorbed narcissist like Chase to have told the wedding photographer to take dozens or even hundreds of pictures of just him standing alone and looking hot on the day he was supposed to be "forever joined" to another person in holy matrimony.

Still, it brought a smile to my face to think of Chase sitting at this laptop late last night, butt-plug still uncomfortably lodged in his tight asshole, wearing nothing more than the skimpy pink jockstrap that announced to the world in big black letters that beneath that little pouch he was kept CHASTE. I hope it filled him with shame and regret when he looked back at photos like this, when he saw the man he was before and never would be again, desperately attempting to convince his internet "friends" that he still was that man.

Of course, I deleted the photo right away, but couldn't find one to replace it with. The photo of Chase snuggling up to me outdoors in his little red jockstrap yesterday was totally gone. There were a few photos of Chase without a shirt on, but even those gave him too much dignity since he was either wearing pants or he was at the beach in board shorts. He shouldn't ever be seen with that much clothing on, even in photos. As far as I was concerned, his body was now public property and should always be displayed as such.

I would have to wait until I had another picture of Chase's "new look" before putting something up.

I saw on his profile that he'd changed his "Interested in" back to "Women" and his "Relationship Status" back to "Single."

There was a status update: 

"LOL you got me good! don't worry guys, i didn't turn queer overnight. but whoever photoshopped that pic and hacked my account is a pro!! LMAO"

I don't know why I didn't think to change Chase's password yesterday. It was going to take some effort to humiliate him online all over again. He'd made a quick save. I don't know if his "friends" bought it, but at very least they all now doubted the veracity of pic that was supposed to shatter Chase's reputation as an alpha-male Lothario and introduce him to the world as the chaste fuck toy of another man.

I rubbed my temples. My headache was coming back. I couldn't tell if this was caused by just the painkillers wearing off or if it was brought on by the thought of how much work I was going to have to put into keeping Chase in his place. He was proving to be a difficult project.

Nothing like Bryan.

That was the real reason I'd opened up Chase's Facebook. I didn't care enough to need to see right away what he may or may not have done to his profile. This was only a distraction from my initial goal.

I typed Bryan's full name into the search box at the top. Bryan's surname had an unusual spelling and only three results came up matching the name. The first one was him.

I could have tracked Bryan down long ago. I could have hired a team of investigators or private eyes to tell me everything about his life without me. But I let him go when he left because I knew it was over.

As a fiercely private man, I didn't have my own Facebook account. I counted my blessings that I didn't. How many other ex-boyfriends would I be casually cyber-stalking if I was logged into this thing 24/7?

Still, given that I would be managing Chase's entire online presence from now on, why shouldn't I get something out of it? What harm would it do to check up on the boy that Chase was supposed to replace?

I quickly realized why this was a bad idea. Seeing Bryan's profile picture was like getting punched in the gut.

It was not unlike the photo of Chase and me that was taken yesterday. Two men lovingly snuggling up close, a picturesque vista in the background. 

Of course, there were many differences. It was a different city; I couldn't tell exactly where. The architecture suggested somewhere in Europe. Were they just tourists, or was it possible that Bryan had really moved an ocean away?

Both men in this picture were fully clothed. It had been like that with Bryan and me, too. Yes, I liked to humiliate him in public. We made no secret our perversions. But I didn't parade him around town looking like a cheap gay rent boy as I did with Chase.

They looked like a wholesome, happy gay couple with one small difference. Most people would probably miss it: both wore thin gold chains around their necks. On Bryan's, there hung a small lock. On the other man's, a key.

I should have closed the window then. But I hovered on his profile page for a moment after closing the picture.

"Married."

If the picture of the happy couple had been a punch to the gut, this was a kick in the nuts.

I closed the laptop right away. I had made a poor decision. That had been a stupid thing to do.

When I stepped outside it was raining. I didn't have an umbrella. A gloomy day to match my now-gloomy spirits.

These past two days had been an emotional roller coaster. The rage I had felt when I saw Chase's crimes. The immense happiness I had felt after that first night of punishing him. The hopefulness I had had for the days of tormenting him that had laid in store.

Then, with the diminishing of my powers, the fear that I couldn't control this situation. The fear that I'd caught a wild animal who would tear me to shreds the moment that he escaped from his cage.

And now what? Desperation? Despair? 

The love I had lost would never be returned to me. Had I ever really expected that? Did I really think Bryan was going to show up at my door again one day, begging for me to take him back? Perhaps I hadn't really accepted before now that Bryan was really gone forever.

And now all I had was Chase.

Fucking arrogant, pig-headed, snarky little shit Chase.

It was pouring rain. I got drenched just walking across the parking lot to my car. I got in, soaking wet and miserable, turning on the heat immediately to try and dry myself.

I drove to my office deep in thought, mulling it all over again. 

My brother. Chase. Bryan.

Justice. Lust. Loss.

I pulled out some files as soon as I got to my office. It was more busywork than anything else. I had no projects on the go right now. The files were mostly potential projects. Background information on potential targets, the requested mind control, etc.

To be honest, I didn't really care about any of them. My mind kept drifting. But I busied myself, nonetheless.

Around 4:30, my office door opened and a very tall, thin man casually sauntered in, shaking the water off his umbrella. He was stylishly dressed: tight dark jeans, white v-neck t-shirt, a sleek blazer a little too big for his fine frame.

My brother.

He had a youthful energy about him that made him seem much younger than he was. It was sometimes hard to believe that he was the older sibling.

"I know," he said allowed.

Shit. I hadn't considered that my weakened state made it such that I couldn't keep him out of my mind. I tried to order my thoughts; even without my powers, I might be able to keep him from going deep into my mind.

"You should really talk to your stylist about those grey hairs. I mean, you could pull off distinguished, maybe. But I thought you wanted the boys to call you 'Sir' and not 'Daddy.'" He flashed me a wicked smile, pleased with his playful taunts.

"You didn't have to come in, you know. I could have told you about this over the phone."

He shrugged and replied in a disinterested manner: "I was in the neighbourhood."

I doubted that was true. More likely, my brother had received my message and found the idea of me begging for his help too appealing an opportunity to pass up. I could picture him spending quite a while picking out an outfit and styling his hair so that he could saunter in looking carelessly casual and yet somehow also impeccably dressed. He wanted to look good as he gloated, basking in the moment.

I filled him in on the situation with Chase: my discovery of his misdeeds, my decision to punish him, my increasingly weakened powers.

I could tell he found the whole story quite amusing. I had my suspicions that this was precisely the kind of thing he would be happy to help with: aside from the definite appeal of tormenting an egotist like Chase, he was also delighted to see me eating crow and admitting to my limitations — admitting that I needed his help after I'd shunned him last time.

"Well, I'll see what I can do." He mused over this for a moment. "But you have to let me do my own thing. We have very different methods when it comes to breaking someone's will."

I thought it over briefly and, with a hint of reluctance, accepted. 

I felt that this situation was different than my last dealing with my brother. In that situation, our target had indeed deserved to be taught a lesson, but I felt that my brother greatly overstepped his bounds in teaching him that lesson with his cock. 

Chase, on the other hand... So many of his misdeeds were sexual in nature; I felt he deserved the kind of sexual humiliation I knew my brother would put him through. Chase had seduced Vivian so he could take her money. He'd raped Juanita, forced her to have an abortion, and lost her her job. And there were other crimes, ones that so far I'd only gotten hints of. Perhaps when my powers returned to their former strength I would probe Chase's mind more deeply and determine just how much he deserved his punishment. I suspected he deserved much more than I had doled out so far.

The rain had stopped by the time my brother and I headed out to my car. In fact, the clouds had parted and it was turning into a beautiful evening. The weather matched my newly invigorated mood. Though I had some reservations about letting my brother take charge of the situation, my spirits were nevertheless lifted in knowing that he would definitely help me put Chase in his place.

However, upon arrival at the condo, I felt quite foolish. I opened the door and stepped into a dream. The boxes had been unpacked. The aroma of a delicious meal was on the air. Chase was kneeling in the centre of the room, wearing a black jockstrap. He had perhaps chosen that one because of its less ostentatious colour or its thicker, opaque material, but thankfully it was still humiliating insofar as the solid black fabric made the bold white lettering of his "CHASTE" label only more eye-catching.

Chase had done exactly what I'd asked. Perhaps I had made a mountain out of a molehill; perhaps I had underestimated my control of the situation. Did I need my brother's help at all?

As it turns out, I most certainly did.

Chase was surprised to see me enter with another man. He blushed, clearly embarrassed to be seen like this by a stranger. I could tell at first he was going to make some move, perhaps to cover himself better or to get to his feet, but he seemed to change his mind and kept his position.

My brother waltzed over to him and tousled up his hair.

"Hello, puppy," he announced.

Chase was clearly confused, but didn't make a move. He was still assessing this unexpected guest, trying to decide if this stranger required a change in his behaviour.

My brother looked back to me. "Tsk-tsk. What a naughty boy you have here. You're a terrible trainer, brother." He turned back to Chase and wagged his finger at him. "Bad dog."

Chase grew pale and swallowed hard.

I furrowed my brow. "What are you talking about? He's done everything I asked. I'd say it seems as though I'm a pretty good 'trainer'."

My brother laughed loudly at this. What a jackass he could be.

At least he had my best interest at heart, though.

He looked back at Chase. "Go on, boy. Speak."

Chase strained more a moment, apparently trying to keep his mouth shut. And then he blurted out: "I put sleeping pills in your dinner!"

His hands rushed to his mouth to cover it; he was shocked that he'd admitted what he'd clearly assumed would remain a safely-kept secret.

He abandoned the ruse of being an obedient boy, getting up to his feet and moving to put the table between himself and my brother, eyeing the various doors around the room and contemplating if he could somehow make a run for it and escape.

My brother was clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, come on, puppy. You can do better than that. Give us the whole story. Speak!"

Chase tried to bring his hands up to cover his mouth, but they froze part way and then fell back to his sides. Again, he strained to his mouth shut, when it just exploded out of him: "I thought I could trick you. I knew you couldn't read my mind this morning and I planned to drug you and escape. I planned to take your clothes and use your phone to get the building manager to open the door and let me out of this hell you've trapped me in!" 

His hands then successfully made the motion they had attempted a moment ago and he covered his mouth, albeit much too late. The cat was out of the bag.

I was definitely disheartened. What had appeared to be the ideal situation mere moments ago — a delicious dinner, a clean home, and an obedient boy on his knees ready to serve — was nothing more than appearances.

I felt silly. I had almost been deceived. Chase had almost pulled the wool over my eyes as he done with so many others.

My brother mused for a moment. "Hmm, something's still not right. I just can't put my finger on it..." He tapped his finger on his pursed lips. 

"Oh, I know what's wrong!" He walked up close to Chase and peered down at him. At only 5'6", Chase was nearly a foot shorter than my brother. Though my brother was thin and Chase was muscular, the difference in height must have nevertheless made my brother seem intimidating to Chase. Well, that plus the fact that Chase was standing almost completely naked and defenceless in front of a man with supernatural, telepathic powers.

"Speak, boy!" my brother ordered gleefully.

Chase once again tried to resist, struggled to keep his mouth closed. And this time, he was apparently even more surprised by what came out when his mouth opened: a dog's bark.

His hands rushed up to cover his mouth right after it came out. His eyes were wide; he was shocked at the sound he'd made.

My brother turned me. "I've got everything under control here. Why don't you go change into something more comfortable and order us some dinner while I get to know your dog a bit better?"

Still feeling both foolish and disappointed both by Chase's deception and by the matter of my own nearly falling for it, I simply nodded and followed through with my brother's suggestion. I changed into something more casual and ordered a pizza. I hear a yelp come from the main room at some point — again, oddly canine in character — but figured my brother had everything under control.

I returned to them about fifteen minutes later. My brother had worked quickly.

Chase turned his head and looked up at me pleadingly, as if imploring me to free him from his predicament. 




Chase Becomes Chaste Ch. 04



My brother must have found my stash of toys, as he had evidently put some of them to use on Chase. I had to admit, it made a pretty picture and I felt myself getting hard at the sight of Chase in that state. 

Muscular, macho, masculine Chase was down on all fours like a dog. He was wearing his black collar and the matching leash led up to my brother's hand. He had a butt plug buried in his ass again, but this one was a different than the one I'd used on him last night: instead of being flat on the outward-facing end, it had a rubber tail sticking out. This must have been the cause of the yelp I had heard. I was somewhat surprised that my brother had gotten that one in so quickly: this plug was considerably bigger than the one I'd shoved into him last night. I had planned on waiting a few days before inserting that one, letting him work his way up to it. But I wasn't going to complain about the accelerated schedule my brother had introduced.

My brother waved his arms, motioning to Chase as if he were unveiling the prize on a gameshow. "Now this is how you train a dog!"

I forced a polite laugh. I liked to see Chase degraded like this, but it wasn't my style. I hoped my brother understood that. "You know I don't want a dog, brother. I prefer my boys to be of the human variety."

He waved his hand dismissively and added, "You're so close-minded." He was one of the few people in comparison to whom my sexual tastes would indeed appear limited. I knew for a fact that my brother enjoyed having men, women, and people in between those two genders as sexual partners. And he had no trouble fucking a woman who was purring like a cat or a man who was clucking like a chicken. In fact, I assume he quite enjoyed it.

But my tastes were far less bestial.

"I hope he's still going to know he's a human being after you're done with him?"

My brother sighed loudly. "Fine, fine. Have it your way." He put his hand over his heart. "I guarantee you he'll still think he's a man by the time I'm done, scout's honour."

I corrected him: "Oh, but Chase isn't a man, remember? 'Boy,' maybe, but even that implies he's got a cock between his legs and not a locked-up little worm."

Chase blushed at this comment, his feelings of desperation once again turning instead to humiliation.

My brother, on the other hand, laughed at my comment. "If that's how you feel about it, you should really just neuter your dog. You know, help control the pet population and ensure he doesn't breed."

At that, Chase went from humiliation back to desperation again. I wouldn't have thought it was possible for him to grow anymore pale than he had been previously, but he did. Somehow he blanched even more at my brother's suggestion and his eyes turned even more pleading.

My brother tugged Chase's leash and tousled his hair once more. "Wouldn't you like that, puppy? If you came to live with me, you'd have a responsible owner. I'd neuter you like I do with all my dogs."

Chase's eyes abandoned their look of desperate pleading and grew wide in shock and horror as he turned to look up at my brother. He must be doubting the reality of this situation. The way I had treated him constituted a kind of degradation he'd never expected, but it hadn't entirely surpassed his sense of feasible reality. But now, my brother placed before him possibility of actually living his life as a neutered dog-boy. It was altogether more inconceivable than the chaste fuck toy fate I'd told him to expect.

I decided to play along. Chase should realize how good he has it with me.

"Well, I guess you would be doing me a huge favour. Chase is a lot to handle." I walked up behind four-legged Chase and reached down to cup his balls as the judges in dog shows do with the dogs they are assessing. Chase jumped a bit but didn't pull away. "And if you cut these right off, I guess that would also solve the problem of how to keep the women of the world safe from him. Like you said, prevent him from breeding and all that."

My brother laughed again. "At least consider my offer. I would love a puppy like this." He stroked Chase's back. "Mmm, muscular build. Like a boxer, you know?"

I reached forward and stroked Chase's back in a similar manner. "Or a pit bull."

"He would be great for dog shows. I'm sure he'd do well in agility competitions, you know? He's obviously in great shape — he would be a natural running through those obstacle courses."

"Well, I'll definitely consider your offer, brother. It's good to know that I can always re-home Chase if he gets to be too much." Chase once again looked up at me pleadingly and I glared back. He got the message.

I heard the buzzer go and went to buzz in the pizza deliveryman.

When I started to fish some cash out of my wallet, my brother added: "Let Chase pay him."

I scanned Chase up and down, taking account of his current position. "How's he going to do that without using his hands?"

"Put it in his mouth." My brother stroked Chase more firmly. "I think we can both agree that he really needs to learn how to use his mouth."

I chuckled. "Open up, boy."

I don't know if my brother forced Chase to open his mouth or if he did it on his own. I suspected the latter. Chase could see the writing on the wall: there was no way out of this, at least for tonight. He shouldn't do anything that could make his predicament even worse.

I shoved the cash in Chase's open mouth just as I heard a knock at the door. I took the leash from my brother. "Come on, boy. Follow me."

***************

Author's note: I would like to thank my dedicated readership for waiting patiently for nearly a month for this chapter. As always, thank you to all those who shared their feedback with me through ratings, comments, and email. Special thanks to Chris for his extensive correspondence with me back in December. As for future installments, parts of chapters 5 and 6 have already been written, so I will endeavour to finish them and get them posted in good time.