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The Rape of a Male Slut

By: Deer_Slave



BORN TO BE BRED-THE RAPE OF A MALE PIG-BITCH

PROLOGUE

To this day, I don't know what he used to drug me. All I know is that it was strong enough to make my arms and legs numb. It was powerful enough so that a much shorter man could subdue, then shackle and imprison me for a very long and horrific weekend. It was effective enough to render me helpless so that he could use me for his own sick, twisted and perverted pleasure. Without that drug, he would never have been able to rape and turn me into his personal slave; his personal slave to abuse, to humiliate and to share with his equally twisted friends.

Twenty six years later, I am a bisexual slut of a man who has willingly degraded himself uncountless times in ways that I will share with you at a later date. But this is the story of my rape at the hands of another man. The rape of my mouth, the rape of my ass..... More to the point, it is the story of the rape that unleashed my very soul.

AN INTRODUCTION TO MY RAPIST

My father sent me to him, though he would never know what really happened. John Paulsen was a junior executive, who worked for powerful a head hunting firm in San Francisco. Normally, a young man just out of college, head filled with esoteric candy, but totally devoid of any knowledge that was needed to thrive in the world, would never have gotten in the front door. 

But the previous year my father had been recruited to be one of the top executives at Bank of America. In 1980, that bank was as much a part of that city as was the Golden Gate Bridge. Upon graduation from college, I moved out to California to seek employment. My dad had a good friend who was a senior partner with this firm, and as a favor to my dad, he assigned my case to one of his underlings. I was turned over by my dad's friend Harry Johnson to one of the junior executives that, unknown to me at the time, he would fire two days before my rape.

My first meeting with John Paulsen, was brief but quite pleasant. Shamelessly and perhaps fatefully, I even walked into his office to greet him with a huge hard on. At twenty one, I could never control my manhood and I couldn't keep my eyes off his gorgeous secretary as I waited for 15 minutes or so outside his office for my meeting. She was simply stunning. Perhaps in her early 30's, she had long silky black hair, and from what I could see through her business jacket and satin, collarless shirt, she had amazing breasts. She truly had the face of a model, and the most perfect teeth and smile that I had ever seen. However her greatest physical assets only revealed themselves when she stood up to escort me into her bosses' office. On my first glance at her long, shapely legs, my cock immediately sprang to life. Holy shit! I wanted to bend her over her desk right then and there.

This delicious creature walked a few paces ahead of me as we entered his office, and just I couldn't help myself from looking at those legs..... Those incredible legs and that firm, apple ass.

"It's very nice to meet you Mark. I trust, that I haven't kept you waiting to long."

Shit! I knew that I was busted as my eyes left this woman's posterior and looked up to introduce myself to the man who would rape me the very next week.

"Thank you sir....uh no you haven't kept me long at all." I sheepishly stammered as I extended my hand to shake his. Unfortunately when I extended my right arm, my unbuttoned suit jacket parted to reveal the fact that my pants now extended six inches straight out. Of course he noticed. The Pope would have noticed. To this day I wonder if my rape can be linked to my then love of boxer briefs. Boxer briefs and that woman's deliciously comely and long legs.

John Paulsen was a short man, dark haired, and far shorter than my 5'11" frame. Standing perhaps 5'6 or maybe seven, I had to look down to greet his eyes. John's eyes were so dark, that they bordered on being black. I swear that they twinkled. Twinkled at the first sight of his prey.

John had a handsomely rugged face, mustachioed with a perfectly straight nose, and teeth so white that they almost rivaled those of his stunning secretary's. Stocky and well muscled for his size, my 185 pound body nonetheless out weighed John's by 15 pounds or so. When he gripped my hand, my first impression was that he wanted to arm wrestle. But having been taught that a man's handshake is an indication of a man's character, I gripped his smaller hand with equal gusto. Yes his hands, while strong, were a bit smaller than mine. I would learn to love this fact later the next week when these hands would be buried forearm deep in my tight virgin ass.

My first meeting with my rapist would be less than a half hour, but I met with him two more times that week so that we could work over my case. I genuinely began to like him at the time, as he showed a real interest in my career. He criticized me freely, but did so in a way as to make me feel that he really wanted to help me. Upon the end of our last meeting that Friday, he said that he might be able to come up with something sometime later next week. He stated that he was working on position for a client who might be interested in me for a training position. I was thrilled, and sensing this he pawed my shoulder as we shook hands goodbye. 

"I'll be in touch with you very soon." He said as I parted his office to leave.

"Damn!" I thought as I left his office. "She's not here". His secretary, whom I enjoyed leering at during every trip to this office, must be on a coffee break. I didn't know it at the time, but I would never again get to see those legs. Those incredible legs.

INVITATION TO A RAPE

I received a call from John around 6:30 the following Wednesday evening, late in the day I thought at the time. He said that he might have something, but wanted to go over some things with me first, and prepare me for interviewing. I eagerly asked when he wanted me in his office. There was a long pregnant pause before he said,

"Mark I have a busy week, but would you mind coming to my place in the city Friday evening around six? We can go over things casually here in my Condo, and perhaps grab a bite to eat and a drink afterwards? You don't have any plans, do you?" When he said this, it almost seemed more like a statement, than a question.

"No sir!" I enthusiastically said, thereby sealing my fate. Unbeknownst to me, John Paulsen had been fired that very day. 

The instructions to his home, while quite exact, failed to mention that to get there, I had to pass a number of gay bookstores, movie theaters, bath houses, and night clubs. Having only been living in Northern California a few short months, I really had never seen anything like it in my life. I lived outside the city by about 45 minutes or so, having found the rent for even a studio apartment in the city, quite prohibitive. I currently had a job as a trainee at a department store, but I wanted more in life. It paid little, but enough for my Spartan, single existence in a Walnut Creek studio apartment. I worked in Oakland, and had not had a chance to venture to San Francisco, but just a few times.

"John can't be queer, can he?' I thought to myself as I passed numerous queens, transvestites and a bunch of big, burley, hairy guys in a lot of leather. 

"To each his own" My naïve, 21 year old mind muttered to itself. 

I had known of a few gay guys in college, but never really got to know any all that personally. Five months removed from college, I graduated 3rd in my class, was student body president and had won the Scholar Athlete award for my exploits as captain of our tennis team. I was told that I was quite handsome in a "Richey Cunningham" sort of way, although it always gave me the "aw shucks" feeling. Broad shouldered from hours in the weight room, my strong legs moved me quickly past what looked like two extremely large but pretty women. With their backs to me, I at first failed to see their prominent Adam's apples. I actually had to brush by one of them as I went to open the door to John's building.

"Excuse me mam", I said with ignorance. Perhaps I am being kind to myself. Perhaps it was said not with so much ignorance as it was said with total and utter stupidity. Both 'women' just laughed at me in throaty voices. "What a fool", they both must have been thinking. So was I, realizing my mistake. "I guess I have a lot to learn."

Arriving at his door on the 5th floor of his oldish apartment building, I was dressed casually as instructed. Wearing kaki pants with a light blue button down business shirt, I momentarily glanced at my new sneakers, and one of my partially untied laces. Little did I know while bending over to fix those laces, that they would soon be tied unmercifully tight around my cock and balls. I rang the door bell, and after just a few seconds, John Paulsen opened the door sporting a big, broad smile.

"Good to see you Mark, glad you could make it." John Paulsen chimed as he shook my hand as he guided me into his extremely well decorated place.

"Thanks Mr. Paulsen, Thank you for inviting me. I really appreciate this."

"Now, now...We aren't in the office. Besides, I am only 33. Don't make me feel old. Let's dispense with the formalities for the night. Come on, we can relax a bit before getting started, fine with you? Do you care for a drink?" John said as he motioned for me to take a seat in one of two leather, wooden legged chairs separated by a small coffee table. John's apartment was extremely well decorated, with many pieces of expensive leather furniture, and numerous oil paintings adorning the walls. I noticed that like most homes, there were no photographs of family or friends to be found.

"Uh sure, thanks John. I'd love a beer."

"Afraid that I don't drink beer Mark, but I am pretty well stocked with liquor. How about a scotch and soda? I just fixed one for myself." John said with a broad smile.

"You like scotch, don't you?" He turned to get me one before I could even reply.

"Uh sure" I lied. Scotch always gave me a headache in college. I pretty much stayed with beer and vodka tonics, with an occasional shot of tequila.

As he walked over to his bar, I couldn't help but notice John's attire. He wore an unremarkably plain black tee shirt, but when he turned around I immediately thought, "Yeah, John must be gay". I couldn't help but notice his trim ass wiggle a bit as they where inside the tightest fitting pair of black jeans, that to this day, I have ever seen on a man or a woman. I also found it odd that he had these pants tucked into what looked like a brand new pair of black leather construction boots that covered his ankles. He told me to dress comfortably, and here I was wondering how he could even walk in those tight black jeans. How could he breathe, or even sit down? I needn't have fretted over it too much. As I would soon learn to my coming shame and humiliation, he wouldn't be wearing them much longer.

Having fixed my drink in a short high ball glass, he handed it to me. It had one measly small ice cube in it. "Salute", he said as we sat down and he clicked my glass. Yep, he could sit down. How he managed that, I will never know. We chit chatted for awhile, and in my nervous state I kept sipping a really, really bad drink. "Oh well, headache tomorrow" I thought to myself. Little did I know then that an aching head would be the least of my problems tomorrow.

After choking down most of my short glassed drink in between about 20 minutes of idle chatter, he downed the rest of his, and then stood up and said, "Bottoms up Mark. I'll go fix us a couple more and we can get down to business." Even though I was already getting quite a buzz, I chugged the rest of my drink and started to stand up to hand him my glass. I instantly fell back into my chair. "Damn" I thought to myself. "My legs feel like I have just finished a five set match." My arm, extended to hand him my glass, even felt like I was wearing those training weights around my wrist that I used often in college for tennis. I usually could handle my liquor well past the first drink.

"This will probably do me, John. Thanks." I mumbled while he handed me my second drink. No ice this time, but I noticed that his had plenty. My head began swimming, and the feeling wasn't all that unpleasant. John just smiled at me. Both of the two Johns I was now seeing had big, white smiles on them.

"Yeah, it will do you just fine, my friend. Now drink up. You have things to do for me. Now like I said, drink my concoction"

"Huh? Concoction?" I thought to myself, throwing the thought away. But John's presence began to turn, and I drank. Man I was getting drunk.....or so I thought.

"I have a job interview to send you to next week. It's a sales trainee job with world travel if you make it through their program, but that is not my concern. My concern is making you prepared to get the job, so I can get paid." He lied. He had been fired two days prior.

"DRINK my boy!" He now commanded as he stood before my slumped body, seemingly floating in this hard leather, straight backed chair with leather padded wooden arm rests and long wooded legs. A chair that I would spend more time in through out the weekend. A chair that I would spend time in later, drugged and naked, bound tightly with rope, and a hard butt plug shoved up my ass.

"My Boy?" I thought to myself. I should have been scared, but my mind was reeling. I couldn't move my limbs. I had been drugged. I had been set up and I was about to be raped by another man. I was about to be tortured, humiliated, degraded, abused and whipped and raped before so many other horrible things would be done to me. I was a few hours away from being sodomized and used by many men. I was a few hours away from becoming a whore for other men's sick pleasure. I was now mere hours from being broken down into a drugged, but seemingly willing sex slave. I was about to be forcibly taken down a road that would change my life forever.

{For those of you still with me after this rather dull and sex free set up to the story of my rape, I now apologize for this. For those of you who are offended by graphic descriptions of illegal and unsafe forced sexual abuse, I apologize for the rest of my story. Up to this point, I have recounted my experience as well as I could remember. My problem going forward is that now, my memory becomes hazy due to my drugged state. While all of what I am about to tell you is true, it is now told through the memory of a 48 year old sexually submissive slut of a man. At the time, at least in the beginning, I was a heterosexual man who would never want another man to touch him, much less abuse and rape him in such a horrible way. Today, I crave such abuse by men, women and couples.

Today I seek it out, and do so in ways that willingly puts me in harms way. In 1980, harm's way found me when I tried to better myself. My ass, my mind and my soul would never be the same again. Ever.}

THE RAPING OF MY WILL

"Here, let me help you get more relaxed." John said as he now grabbed the drink out of my hand. "It will be easier this way. The first one worked just fine, I see" With that he grabbed the hair from the back of my head with one hand, and with his other shoved his thumb, index and middle fingers into my mouth. I had wanted to protest but now I felt like choking as his fingers forced a pill down the back of my throat. After he brought that awful drink to my lips and forced me to swallow, John quickly moved behind the chair, and I felt the blade of a Bowie knife pressed against the side of my throat. My heavy arms lay limp on the arm rests of the chair, as my mind was really too drugged to be scared. I mean, I then knew what was happening, but was all so dream like. It would rapidly turn into a nightmare. It would then turn into my depraved way of life.

"How DARE you boy walk into my office with a hard on! Is that how you are going to act when I send you on an interview? Did you think that I wouldn't notice it you perverted pig? Don't worry though my dear little pig boy, I am going to show you how to control that cock of yours. You are about to be tutored the hard way about the meaning of respect, and it is going to be so much fun. Fun for me boy, but painful for you."

Coughing after gagging on his fingers and that pill that he shoved down my throat, I remember wanting to mouth the words, "I am sorry John...Please don't do this to me...Please let me go!" I tried, but my mouth was cotton dry and my lips were numb. Besides, I now had a Bowie knife pressed against the side on my neck, and the room began to whirl around while I was seeing everything in the room, two by two.

With one hand pulling my hair upwards, John reached with the other arm carrying the Bowie knife, and slipped it under my right arm swinging his bladed hand toward the front of my face. "Say one word and I remove your tongue!" With that, my limp body was dragged across the room, through a dark bedroom and into a well lit bathroom. 

There, I was thrown across the side of one of those deep, old fashioned bath tubs with feet on them. My head banged the porcelain as it hit the side, but he pressed his knee against my ass preventing me from totally falling in. There I was, feet on the floor, head in the tub, and my well developed abdomen pressed against the side of this high bath tub. Even though my head surprisingly didn't hurt from the hard bang against the tub's side, it was swimming like a man who just drank a bottle of tequila. I was drugged and feeling no pain. The room began to go dark. My world as I knew it began to grow darker. Much darker.

When I awoke from my drug induced slumber, I was still in that same bathroom. My head was still swimming, and I was still heavily sedated. However now I was sitting on what seemed like a crudely constructed, high backed chair made out of plywood and two by fours. But as I would soon discover, it was no ordinary chair and I was not merely sitting.

Totally naked, my arms were bound at my elbows behind my back with heavy rope. Around my wrists and ankles were some sort of leather cuffs. My wrists were trapped together and my ankles were secured to the legs on this chair. A wide, leather dog collar adorned my neck and rope was wrapped around it and the back of this "chair". More rope was wrapped around my muscular chest and to the back of the chair. More rope still was tightly wound around my stomach and the chair. I felt rope around my knees as well, rendering them immobile. 

My naked virgin ass felt a chill. I was sitting in a hole that had been cut out of the seat of the chair. The hole wasn't as long as a toilet seat, but was rounder than one, so that my ass sort of hung through it. There was enough room in that hole for my cock and balls as well. They ached, and I could feel them being tugged downwards. My cock and balls were tightly bound with what I would later learn were my shoelaces, and tied down somewhere underneath the chair. Helpless and alone in an exceptionaly well lit bathroom, I now, drugged or not, was so terribly afraid. I should have been afraid. My life was about to spiral down into the depths of depravity and servitude that only a masochistic sex slave could love.

I tried to yell out, but I soon realized that it was impossible to do so with what I would learn was a rubber ball gag. Today, I adore it when a Master of Mistress shoves a ball gag into my mouth and wraps it tightly around the back of my neck. But up until this fateful night, I had never seen one before in my life.

My fog laced mind began to remember what had happened to me as I weakly tried to 

yell for help, but the only sounds that came out were "Mmmmpppff..... Mmmmmmpppff, "MMMMPPFFF!". A short time thereafter, John, still wearing those painted on black jeans and combat boots, but now bare chested and wearing black driving gloves, entered from the darkness of his bedroom.


The Rape of a Male Slut



"Awake are we now, my beautiful boy? Great! Now the fun begins!" This demented man bellowed with a devilish smile on his face. The twinkling in John's coal black eyes, that same twinkling that I saw the first time we met, had returned. That twinkling no longer seemed so charming. Without any warning whatsoever, he approached me and viciously slapped me on the side of my face with his gloved, open left hand. A burning sting of pain eminated from the right side of my face only to be joined on my left side, as he quickly slapped me with his other hand. John kept slapping me forcefully in alternate succesion, one leather palmed hand after the other. John pummeled me like a boxer would, trying to finish off his punch drunk foe along the ropes. My face went numb and my ears began to ring as I thought I was going to pass out once again. Suddenly, after a half a dozen blows from each hand, he mercifully stopped.

"Lesson number one learned. I am your new Daddy and you are my new pig boy. I intend to breed you and turn you into my pig bitch. You will soon learn to do as I say or you will be severely beaten. You also will be harshly punished for my amusement when you do obey me. However, if you obey me I will not beat you to within an inch of your pig life. I won't kill you, but if you chose to disobey me, you will only wish that I would. You are now my property, and you will soon be my willing slave. But for this I must first break you down, and before doing so you must be clensed and prepared." He then clinched his left fist and pummeled it into my taught stomach, sucking the breath out of me from what seemed like my toes on up my body, like smoke raising the flue of a chimney.

With that said John straddled the handmade, wooden torture chair and sat abrasively on my lap. Placing his gloved hands almost gently to the sides of my face that he had just beaten so harshly, he began to kiss and lick my neck, face, lips and mouth pried grotesquely open by the ball gag. He kissed me lovingly as a man would kiss his demure wife. "It will be fun sometime soon to paint that pretty face up like the whore you are to become, but first I must ride you like the pig boy that you are now!" I was repulsed beyond belief and frighted in a way that I would only later learn to crave.

Reaching over to a small plastic table beside this torture chair, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him grab a small glass bottle and open it. With my neck bound to the chair back, I was helpless to stop him from waving the bottle underneath my flared nostrils. A pungent smell similar to a mixture of glue and turpentine floated up my nose. My brain began to swim once more as the effects of this smell fought my body's natural adrenalin for control of my mind. Oh shit was I scarred, but oddly this awful smell seemed to sooth me almost instantly.

"Just a little pop or two pig boy, until it is time for your medicine again. I want you awake when I breed your pussy the first time boy. I want some fight left in you. I want to see fear and helplessness in your eyes" With that he slapped me hard again and stood up.

"I knew when I heard old man Harry talking to your father the day after you came into my office with a hardon, that the timing was perfect." Harry? Harry was my father's friend at the firm, and the man who assigned this rapist to my case. Harry was also the man that, unbeknownst to me at the time, had fired John Paulsen two days earlier.

"Away for a week in Sun Valley, your parents are I hear? Too bad that your father loves to go fly fishing so much, or else he might be missing you this weekend. I know that you live alone, and are new in town with few real friends. Perfect. Simply perfect." Everything that John said was true. I was now this rapists' deer, unable to move from the danger of the highway, as a raven, black topped car came barreling forward to claim my body.

With that, my new Daddy unzipped his painted on paints, slowly reached inside, and gingerly pulled out his cock and balls. Holy, mutherfucking shit! I have been told by quite a few women that my 6" cock is about average. But the cock of the man that just said that he was my new Daddy was huge, easily 8 inches or so in its' current only semi erect state, and it was a hell of a lot thicker. John's balls were the size of the ones you use when you play ping pong. I would soon learn that this was because they held copious amounts of cum. You see, John Paulsen was a breeder, although not of the type that helps women produce babies. John was a breeder who bred men and turned them into his bitches. My eyes were transfixed to his phallus as he pulled gently on it a few times, aimed it at my face, and then let go of a giant stream of urine. He used my face and my chest as his urinal.

"I have saved this for your cleansing for hours pig boy! Too bad I can't hear you thank me through that gag, but no matter. This is lesson number two. Your body is my property now, and I intend to do with it as I please. You are helpless to stop me. Don't worry, you will soon learn to love this. You will soon even learn to love the taste of your Master's piss. You will soon be begging me to fill your pig mouth with my yellow nectar. You will soon relish its' taste in the same way that stinking, dirty bums relish the taste of cheap wine. For the time being however, it is simply time to mark my territory and cleanse you, my filthy perverted pig boy." As he was finishing up pissing all over his new toilet, I helpless looked up at my new Daddy just as his right hand once again found the left side of my face. The pain seemed intensified somehow, now that my face was drenched in piss. I gasped and thereby inhaled urine up my nostrils. John then roughly rubbed his wet gloved hand and smeared the piss around my face. Urine stung my now closed eyes, as the piss crept up through my nose and into my lungs.

"Lesson number three. From this time forward you will NEVER look at me directly in the eyes unless ordered to do so. You are a lowly pig boy and are unworthly. Feel free to longingly worship my cock and balls with your eyes as much as you like. Never, (WHAP!), ever, (WHAP!), EVER (WHAP!) forget that boy!" John barked while slapping me with his right hand as he firmly held his cock with his left. You see, my new Daddy I would soon learn, is left handed, just like my father.

"Now for lesson number four. Your pig pussy must always be clensed before I breed you. Others may fuck your shit filled pussy if they like, but your Daddy's cock will never touch your shit, less you desire a severe beating. You will learn to do this for yourself in the future, but for now I will generously show you how I like my pig boy's pussy cleansed. You won't like this much now, but trust me. Some day you will love your pussy cleansing as much as you love to breath."

{Looking back 26 years later, I now realize how true this is. I ritually clense my ass-pussy daily, much as a monk prays to his God. My day is not complete unless it comes with that cramping pain in the depths of my bowels. Many years later my future Mistress/wife would relish in tormenting her cuckold slave slut's ass with an enema. She didn't always do it before she fucked me with one of her strap-ons, because she sometimes loved to force me to suck on my own shit from her rubber cock. But she would always make sure I was clean before she turned me out to other men. She especially made sure she did so before she had one of her countless lovers use me. But that is another story, for another time.}

I now began to understand the nature of the crudely constructed chair I was bound painfully to. After folding his phallus back into his pants, John zipped up and knelt to peer beneath the chair. "My, my, your balls are turning a nice shade of purple, boy. I knew that using your own shoelaces would be a nice touch. Soon your pig boy clit will be ready for its' new home. But for now, it must remain as it is. It pleases your Daddy greatly, that they are now in such pain. It excites me so much that I simply must add to your suffering." With that I felt his left hand grab my balls, squeezing and twisting them like a clown does to a balloon when he wants to make an animal at a party. Pain began to seep into the depth of my being, as almost simultaneously, the index finger of his other gloved hand began to probe my virgin ass.

"Soon enough you will worship my whole hand up your pig pussy, but we must first complete lesson four. Besides I want your pig pussy as tight as a Swiss Bank, when I breed you for your first time." With that he thankfully loosened his grip on my poor balls and withdrew his fingertip from my ass. "Yes boy. Nice and tight and painful for your first time. There will always be pain when you are bred, but the very first time will be deliciously exquisite!"

His finger was very soon replaced by the thin plastic tube attached to the enema bag conveniently hanging from the wall beside my torture chair. When John released the soapy water on its' deep journey into my bowels, tears welled up in my eyes as snot began to push some of piss out of my nose. I quickly began to choke on the saliva building up in my throat, and I thought that I would surely die drowning in my own slobber. "That's it boy, suffer. It is necessary. So necessary for your breaking in. You must learn to understand what you now are, my pig boy. Soon you will be able to proudly call yourself Master's pig slave. Soon. But first you must suffer, and then you must suffer some more. Best of all, after I make you my bitch, you will revel in your own suffering, almost as much as I will!"

Frankly my first enema turned into an almost half awake, half asleep nightmare that one has just prior to waking up. Losing consciousness only to be slapped awake by Daddy to commands of "Hold it longer pig boy! Hold it longer or I will show you true pain like none that you have ever seen!" Seemingly unending cramping pain, followed by the tempory release of the shitty water spraying out of my ass, was all that I felt. That and the sting of one of John's leather gloved hands. Over and over and over again.

I really have no recolection of the ball gag being removed from my mouth. It was probably seconds before I drowned on my own saliva. All I remember was that my crying became louder and air began to fill back up and into my lungs. Suddenly I began to realize that my mouth was free from bondage and my cock and balls were no longer tugged tightly beneath the chair. They were still wrapped snugly with my shoelaces, but now the painful tugging was gone. John was wiping the piss off my face and torso with a warm cloth in much the same manner a man cleans his dog off after it was sprayed with a skunk. It felt as if he was trying to rub all of my skin off. He then put a tall glass of tap water to my mouth and forced me to drink it.

That is when I made my first fatal mistake. "John, PLEASE don't do this to..........."

Those were the only words that I was able to blubber out before Daddy's left fist barreled into my solar plexus. Just as quickly, it seemed as if all the oxygen filling back into my lungs left me. The pain was unbearable, but even more frightening, I remember worrying if I would ever breathe again.

"Lesson number five pig boy. I am your Daddy. I am your Master. I am your owner. You are NEVER again to call me by any other name, because you are a lowly pig boy, and unworthy!" My Daddy then coughed up a wad of green flem and spit it into my open mouth. Closing my mouth with his right hand, I saw him wield the Bowie with his left. Once again it was pressed to the side of my neck. This time, it cut into the skin ever so slightly. The knife was so sharp that I barely felt it. It just sort of stung like a gnat bite. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME PIG BOY! Now swallow!" Still unable to breath, I somehow managed to choke down his spit. That is when things got really bizarre. Yes, you heard me right. THAT is when things got really bizarre. 

Slowly placing the Bowie knife back on the table, my tormentor once again straddled the torture chair and sat on my lap. As he slowly sat down, and with my cock and balls exposed and no longer tugged underneath through the hole, Daddy gently used his butt to lightly massage my crotch. Back and forth, and then in a circular motion, the soft motions juxtaposed to the roughness of his jeans, created a sensation where once again, my cock betrayed me. Having been beaten, abused, humiliated and tortured for hours now, my captor suddenly became a nurturer. 

"You now have permission to look into my eyes, son. In fact, I must insist on it." Afraid and still crying and gasping for air, I brought my eyes to meet his. The cold, coal black stare was gone, but the twinkle in his eyes, remained. Once again he became John Paulsen, the man who I thought genuinely wanted to help me and my career. Only more so.

"You are such a beautiful little pig boy. You will soon make such a pretty whore for me." The word he used was "whore", but his eyes and the intonation of his voice said "wife".

"We have one more journey to make together my son, before you will truly be mine. Your pain and debasement gives me great pleasure, but when you accept who you are as my personal pig slut, my pleasure is returned to you in kind. Here let me ease some of your demons a little now. It is time for lesson number six." 

Looking into my eyes in a way that can only be described as loving, Daddy unscrewed the cap of the bottle, and gently waived it under my nose. As he did so, he brought his nose close to mine, sharing the pungent smell with his pig son like he was sharing my first beer with me. After a few whiffs, and with his eyes never leaving mine, he then put the bottle back down, not bothering to put the cap back on this time. Slowly he rubbed his nose to mine, and against my tightly bound torso, I could feel him taking off his gloves and throwing them on the table.

Daddy's nose then began to caress mine.... His cheek then began to caress mine.... His lips then began to caress mine. Gently Daddy's hands cupped the back of my head as he massaged it gingerly. His lips melted onto mine as my mouth remained open, powerless to stop the inevitable. Daddy's mouth made passionate love with my mouth as his tongue penetrated and impregnated me. I was helpless with fright and let him do as he wished, like a woman being raped is told to do. Whiskers from his mustache teasingly tickled the bottom of my nose, and the stubble on his chin massaged my chin as a husband might massage his wife's clitoris. If he had hugged and kissed me so passionately like this when I first came into the apartment, I might have fallen instantly in love with him. But John didn't want my love; he wanted my abject submission.

After a seeming eternity of passion that didn't last nearly long enough, Daddy took his index and middle finger and wiped some of the blood trickling down my neck and over my dog collar. With his eyes still making love to mine, he placed those fingers into his mouth, savoring the taste like he had just scooped up fudge from a mixing bowl. Tilting his head to the side, he began licking the rest of the blood from my neck and collar. His teeth bit into the neck that he had minutes before cut with his knife. Inextricably, when he then began to suck my neck to mark me, I thought that my cock would break from its' bonds itself. Betrayed again....betrayed by my pig cock.

"I have a few more things that I must do, my beautiful pig boy, before I ride your broken body through the bowels of your own personal hell. You must make this journey in all your glorious pain and debasement. This is necessary for you to truly become the broken slave that you are meant to be. For this reason, we must remove your cock from the equation. A horny pig cannot feel real pain. A horny pig cannot wallow in its' own helpless shame. It is now time for your Master to claim your cock as his own. It will belong to you no more"

With that Daddy produced a leather blind fold and secured it tightly around my eyes. Total darkness. I was now sure to be castrated, but didn't have the will to beg. Sobbing uncontrollably once again, I was a broken man ..... Or so I thought.

Returning to his role of sadist, Master told me to open my mouth. "This is called a ring gag" Daddy said as he forced a hard rubber contraption behind my teeth and then buckled it behind my head. It has many purposes, but now it will allow me to hear your sorrow while at the same time, allowing you to breath." The ring itself was enormous, as big around as Daddy's cock was wide. How convenient.........

"Now stick your tongue through the ring." I did so automatically, resigned to my fate.

The frosty feel of steel engulfed my tongue as Master took the side of his Bowie knife and rubbed it back and forth along its' length. He was gently fucking my mouth with his knife, and I remained so incredibly still. With his right hand, he grabbed my cock and began pulling on my shoelaces. The coldness of the knife left my tongue and quickly moved down to my balls. I could feel the flat back end of the blade press hard on the side of my balls, and a sharp tugging as Master began cutting off my shoelaces to claim his cock. I was going to be castrated. Damn! I had just bought those shoes, and I really couldn't afford them..........

When the laces were cut off with a few sharp slices of the knife, blood flowed back into my pig cock....my pig cock that Master was now about to claim. The coldness of the blade was no more. I heard him drop it on the table and retrieve something else. The unmistakable sound of lather leaving an aerosol shaving can was heard. My mind left me as Daddy lathered my balls and pubic area in preparation for a shaving before my operation.

My mind left me. I no longer wanted my cock....it always got me in trouble. It always betrayed me. It was the main reason that I was in this situation. "Good riddance" I thought as I was shaved with that sharp Bowie knife. Master Daddy was silent, busy clinically removing my pubic hair so he could claim his prize.

I kept running in and out of my own mind, when I heard Master speak.

"Soon, I will be shaving all of your ugly pig hair, you worthless sow. But tonight I want to breed what is left of the man in you." With that things got bizarre once more. Daddy began to slowly massage my cock and masturbate me. Betrayed once more, it jumped to life.

"When you go through the pain of your first breeding, I don't want a horny pig. Pain is eased that way. The mind feeds off the pleasure and ignores the pain. I want you wallowing in your own degrading shame. Lesson number seven. You are ONLY to come when I want you to. I now want you to. It is time for your first milking."

Master expertly took his time, varying speed, motion and tension, as every orgasm in my life was being relived in my mind. While masturbating me with his left hand, Daddy's right hand roughly squeezed and massaged my balls. Now instead of sobbing, I was moaning uncontrollably, like a bitch in heat. A pig-bitch. 

"Cum you fucking sow slut, NOW!" I came. I came because my Master told me to and I came because my cock would betray me for the final time. I came, and I came and I came and I came into his right hand. I had never cum like that, ever. I swear I almost passed out, until my Master forced my own cum into my ring gagged mouth."

"Thank your Daddy your perverted pig." I didn't even think about it. I simply said the only thing that I could at the time. Through the confines of my gag, I said "Hank, who Haddy. Hank who. Hank who"

Daddy then took off my blind fold, and as I began to look him in the eye, he barked "Eyes down slut". I had just had the best orgasm of my life at the hands of the man who was torturing me. I had my own cum shoved in my mouth. I had just thanked him. Surely I was a slut. A perverted, pig-slut.




The Rape of a Male Slut



"Lesson number eight. You no longer have a cock you pathetic sow. You have a clit. A pig clit. You are no longer a boy. You are now my bitch, my pig slut bitch. Bitches are bred. You are about to learn that bitches have clits, pussies and tits." With that Master's hands found their way to my nipples, and with each index finger and thumb, he began to twist one of them. Daddy really didn't do it too hard, but it was more like he was massaging them. My clit liked the feeling, and began to take notice. This feeling would soon change for the worse.

Regrettably Master's hands left my tits and he grabbed what looked like two huge roach clips connected by a short chain. "Soon I will pierce your bitch tits, but for now I have something even more painful in store for you pig. These are called 'Alligator clamps', and for your first time, and because you have such fat sow tits, I am honoring you with some of my more severe ones. That pain will be quite exquisite, I assure you. I want you to wallow in your own painful degradation alone, as I prepare myself for your breeding. But I want you to think about this while you are alone. The pain that your pig tits will soon feel will be NOTHING compared to what your pig pussy will feel when I fuck it. I am going to rape you so good bitch. So good."

"ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!" I screamed through my gag as the claws of the clamp bit into my right tit. AARRRGGGHHHHH!.....ARRRGGGHHHHH!.....

ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I howled as I soon found worse pain in my left one.

I can't describe the intensely, unbearably, dreadful feeling that this torture caused. It only got worse as Master's fingers squeezed the clamps further into my flesh.

{A brief side note on my tits is now in order. When I went through puberty, so did my tits. I grew very large areolas, which began to obtrude away from my chest. As my chest muscles grew and hardened from working out, my areolas stayed soft while they seemingly protruded even more. I was constantly teased about them, so I never wore tight shirts. But soft protruding fat nipples are the perfect medium for alligator clamps. Teeth on the clamps can really dig into plenty of soft flesh. Once tightly secured, a great deal of tugging is needed to remove them. Today, the nerves in my bitch tits are largely dead from years of abuse. Now I can wear clamps for extended periods with only mild discomfort. But this night, my tits were virgins to the tortuous effects of the clamps, and the pain was horrible.}

"Suffer bitch! Suffer you wretched pig. Scream....Come on, I want to hear you! You are mine to do as I choose. No one will rescue you. Soon, I will have you begging me to abuse you this way!!" Master said this as he pulled on the back of the hair on my head. "SUFFER MY PIG BITCH!......SUFFER!!!!" Master disgustingly spit once more into my open mouth.

As he leered at my tortured state, Master began to take off his pants. You remember, those painted on pants that I had once mused, must cause him great discomfort wearing. Once off, I could see through my tears that his huge cock was clearly enjoying this. Master began to masturbate furiously towards my tortured pig tits. "You really are a beautiful, worthless pig slut. I want your first breeding to last a good, long, painful time bitch, so I am going to relieve some pressure first." What a sick fuck. A sick fuck, with his own personal pain pig to get off on.

I stopped paying attention to what he was doing, and began to fall out of myself once more. The pain began to deaden slightly, like your mouth does when Novocain begins to take effect. But only very slightly. The feeling just sort of dulled, as blood left my pig tits. The next thing I remember seeing was Master straddling the torture chair with his enormous cock in front of my bound mouth.

"Time to breed your mouth, pig-bitch!" I couldn't move. I couldn't defend what was about to happen to me. Without any preliminaries, he simply shoved his cock down my throat. That's it. Unable to move, it was that simple. Air stopped flowing, but soon returned as he quickly slid his cock back out. In a matter of a few seconds or so, he pumped my mouth four or five times and dumped his seed down my gullet. I could barely taste it, as it went down my chute like garbage in a high rise, mixing with the other piss and snot in my esophagus, on its' journey to my stomach. Some might say that this was the first blow job that I would give a man, but that is totally and unequivocally, untrue. Giving a blow job requires active participation, even a bad blow job. Master simply raped an open hole, thereby claiming it for his own. It was now his pig bitch hole, and he would use it often in the future. As would many others.

What a sick fuck. What a sick, fucking, pig bitch slut I am. My clit was awakening and my pig tits were alive for the first time in their lives.

THE DEATH OF MY DADDY

Darkness quickly covered what had previously been a very brightly illuminated room. Master's voice could be heard at the doorway. He now stood there with his back to his equally dark bedroom. "Suffer you pig bitch. Suffer and feel the pain. Breathe it in. Nurture it, bitch. Nurture it. There will be no more medicine until later. When I rape you and make you mine, I want you to feel every minute of it. Every painful minute."

With that said, I heard the bathroom door slam, though it was too dark to see it do so. Pig bitch was now alone and in dreadful pain. Light soon appeared from beneath the bath room door. The weird thing is that I couldn't help feeling deep sorrow that my Daddy was dead. He didn't know it yet I don't believe, and Lord knows I never confessed it to him. But I knew then that I was already broken. Daddy had died, and Master had taken control of his pig-bitch. It would be wrong to say that I was looking forward to what I knew was about to happened. I was just resigned to the fact that it was going to happen. My head slumped as much as my bound state would allow, and I drifted off to sleep once more, doing so with full consciousness of my own desolate anguish, ache and humiliation. The effects of whatever pills Master John had used to drug me were now mostly gone, and only the dull headache from their effects, remained.

THE BIRTH OF A PIG-BITCH 

"Are you ready to be bred, my beautiful, virgin, pig-bitch?" Master said as woke me by moderately slapping the left side of my face with his right hand. The light in the bathroom was still off, but I could see Master by the natural light of flickering candles emanating from the adjoining bedroom. There were a lot of them. I would soon learn that besides giving light, candles can be devious torture devices. 

"Answer me bitch! " Master commanded me to reply by swiftly pulling the chain that joined the torture clamps digging into my poor pig tits. I assume by sheer survival instinct now, my eyes lowered to the sight of that Bowie knife once again holstered in Master's left hand, and I moaned through the ring gag, "Hes , Sssir".

Putting down the Bowie once more, Master reached around and took off my ring gag.

Saliva dribbled down my chin and onto my roped torso. Master wiped it away with his hand gently, and massaged it on my cock and balls. "Right answer, my pretty little bitch. You are learning." Master then picked up some sort of black leather device with snaps on it. Grabbing the back of my head and forcefully pulling me to meet his mouth, he roughly kissed me for a good minute or so, fucking my mouth with his tongue as he explored every inch of my oral cavity. For the first time in my life I was being kissed by a man without my mouth enduring the restraints of bondage. As his tongue rolled around mine, I submissively returned his perverted passion as a good pig bride should, carrying the trepidation of her own deflowering. I even moaned meekly, as this powerful kiss stirred the pent up ardor being freed to flow into my pig clit.

"I knew upon first sight, what a perverse slut you truly could be Mark"

He said my first name for the first time since he had captured, bound and tortured me. He said "Mark". With those words out of his mouth, Master's eyes showed the inner anger of a man who tells a woman that he loved her, just so he could get laid. Masters don't need to say anything to get laid. Masters inflict their will on their pig-bitches. The pregnant pause was deafening, and intuitively I lowered my eyes in total, utter, humiliation. The shameless realization that I was a perverted pig-bitch stirred the longing in my clit. Master swiftly kneed me in the balls and began pulling on the alligator clamps.

"I told you, breedings are for the Master's benefit, not for the BITCH'S!!!" I now wanted to be castrated, just so the pain in my balls would end. 

"I (SLAP) fucking (SLAP), warned (SLAP) you (SLAP), PIG (SLAP)!!!!!! Master said as he beat his bitch with open hands. When he began hit me he had dropped that black leather device on the floor, so that he could smack me on both sides of my face in succession. After pulling on the clamps torturing his pig's tits once more, he reached down to pick it up.

Master showed no concern for the burning in my balls as he strapped me into a cock harness, quite similar to the one that I wear now as I write this story. Today it is a comfort; then it only intensified the smoldering pain caused by his knee. My mind began to leave me once more.

I began to float back into myself as Master waived that bottle under my nose briefly.

"Just a small whiff pig", he said as I now realized that the ropes around my waist and knees had been cut away. My ankles were no longer bound to the legs of the torture chair, but the leather cuffs on them still remained. My torso was still bound tightly, and though my arms and shoulders ached with numbness, it was easy to feel my rope bound elbows and my wrists joined by leather cuffs. Master then cut the rope that was tied around the chair and looped around the wide dog collar decorating my neck. My chin dropped to my chest just in time to see Master take his Bowie knife, roughly slip it between my torso and the rope, and held it there. 

"Ready for your breeding, pig!!!!" 

It was a statement, not a question, but I was a broken, perverted, pain pig. 

"Yes sir. Thank you sir", I sobbed through sniffling and tears.

"Good, pig-bitch. But it doesn't matter if you are ready or not. The pain of your bitch breeding awaits!"

With those fateful words said, Master sliced through the rope around my torso. Now free of that dreaded torture chair, but with my elbows and wrists still tied tightly behind my back, Master in one motioned dipped his left shoulder, pressed it against my belly, slung his pig slut over it like a potato sack, and stood up. Smacking my naked ass with his right hand, Master carried his bitch into the candlelit bedroom to be bred.

AND MASTER SAID, "IN PAIN, SHALL THOU BE BRED"

As I was being carried over the bare shoulder of my Master, my nose could almost rub against the black leather, bikini type shorts that he was wearing over his muscular ass. As each foot came into view as he walked, I could clearly see that those shiny black construction boots were again being worn, sans socks. I would later learn that he wore them for 'traction', as well as for inflicting more pain on his pig-bitch On his forearms, he wore 4" wide, black leather cuffs with pointed studs on them. These were not the same kind secured to his pig slut's wrists and ankles, but rather, resembled Viking warrior armor. They weren't armor; they were weapons. Master wore nothing else.

Walking at a measured pace across the room, Master roughly threw me onto his bitch breeding bed on my back. It was European style in design, made out of sturdy dark wood, and had four tall posts holding it up. I instantly noticed numerous metal rings were attached to the posts in various places, and that across the top of the two posts at the bed's foot, was another heavy board. It was clear to my teary, naked eyes that this board wasn't put there at the bed factory. It was a custom job. I didn't see it at the time, and wouldn't during my first breeding, but the headboard was as tall as the posts, perhaps five feet or so above the top of the mattress, and was covered by a thick mirror. On other breedings in the near future, when Master and others would fuck my pig pussy while I was on all fours, I would be forced to humiliatingly view my debasement in this mirror. Not this time though.

With my back and ass weighing down on my bound and achingly numb arms that pressed against the bed, I felt my spread legs hang over the end and my feet actually touch the floor. My muscular Master was short, and obviously had made another modification to the bed. Master had cut a few inches off each of the bed's four, sturdy legs. 

"Now listen my beautiful pig bitch, as I will only say this once. It gives me great pleasure to see the pain in a pig's eyes the very first time she is bred. When I begin to ride you, you are to look only into my eyes until I say otherwise. Got it pig-bitch?" 

"Yes sir", I tearfully managed to say as I looked up at Master's raven eyes.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!! Master ruthlessly slapped me on both sides of my face. My face was getting used to this. It hadn't stopped stinging from Master's last assault. "You aren't being bred yet, bitch boy, avert your eyes. Breathe in your Master's magnificent body with your pig eyes, while I secure your legs for easy access to your pig pussy! I want you fully exposed. I trust that your arms are aching. You look delectably defenseless you pathetic sow. " I stared down at my Master's body as he secured my ankle cuffs with rope to rings midway up the two posts at the foot of his breeding bed. Master I would later learn, slept in another bedroom that he sometimes shared with his equally sadistic lover. This bed and this room were used only for the breeding, sodomizing, torturing and abusing of slaves, bitches and whores. "Slave" and "Bitch" were not mutually exclusive terms in this twisted world that I was demonically forced into, but each also mean a different species of sub human-being. I was going to be both, and much more. Pimped out, transvestite whores regularly entertained their clients out of this room. More on that later.

I couldn't help thinking in my dreadful anticipation of what was to come, that I had on first glance underestimated Master's diminutive size when he first greeted me wearing his business suit. Master was short, but he was extremely muscular, and obviously worked out regularly. He was a pit bull. As Master's only slightly hairy arms expertly secured his pig bitch's legs, his thick, tight, pectoral muscles danced. Master's leather clad, bull-cock and balls purposefully were being rubbed against my legs and blood engorged, harnessed, clit.

Master secured my legs high and wide apart, stretching the insides of my thighs taught, so that my legs were totally immobile. Secured in this way, my ass was lifted off the bed by a few inches, leaving easy access to my pig pussy. Blood began to flow to my aching head. Satisfied, Master walked over to a round, kitchen like table, four feet or so from the foot of the bed, and directly behind him. All sorts of metal and leather instruments of torture were laying on this table, as were many candles. Master grabbed a long, white, unlit candle, and one of those long lighters that one uses to light a grill. With Master's sadistic, raven eyes twinkling, and his white teeth gleaming between his lips, he held them in his right hand as he approached his victim.

"Lesson number nine, my pig-bitch. Different types of candles produce varying levels of pain when their wax drips on bare pig skin. The intensity of the pain can vary from quite mild to extremely severe. Guess which one that I have chosen to consecrate you with for your first breeding, bitch?" Master said as he positioned himself between my legs, rubbing his leather dressed cock on my pig-pussy.

I was too scared to answer, and that was a big mistake. Using the long white candle, Master slowly raised the chain joining the clamps that dug into my tits, pulling on it ever so slightly. "Lesson number ten, you insolent pig! When your Master asks you a question, you are to answer him! Now let's heat things up a bit to allow you to provide me with the proper response!"

With the unlit white candle in his right hand, Master flicked on the grill lighter with his left and started to waive it underneath the chain. I couldn't feel anything at first, but as the flame warmed up the chain, the heat slowly traveled towards the metal clamps digging into my tit flesh. Soon, a burning sensation could be felt, that rapidly amplified in intensity. I thought that he was going to burn my nipples off when I cried out in grief,

"I am sorry Sir!!! AHHHHHH! The severe ones sir!"

"Not as severe as it should be pig-bitch, but it is white. White is the perfect color for a virgin, pig pussy. Now carefully listen in your anguish as I tell you what I expect out of you when I breed your worthless pussy and claim it as my property."

As Master spoke, he continued to thankfully hold the chain off my chest while he moderately whacked the now unlit lighter on my clit and balls. Pathetic pain pig that I was becoming, my clit liked the attention. Master's voice began to soften, and though the words that came out of his mouth next were hardly kind, his intonation was especially loving.

"I have not gagged your slutty mouth for a reason, my beautiful, horny, pig-bitch. I want you to cry out in pain. I want to hear the tormented, dreadful fear in your voice as I breed your tight, virgin pussy. Moan, scream, cry out, and squeal like the worthless pig-bitch that you are, but you had better answer your Master with respect when I command you to do so! Do you understand me, slut"

"Yes Daddy", I began to moan with what had now clearly become a varied mix of pain, humiliation and carnal yearning; a cocktail of emotions that would keep me bellying up to the bar for the rest of my life. "Yes Daddy, I understand."

Master's commanding lips once again overpowered mine, and his hand withdrew the candlestick that held the chain aloft my chest. Because the separate rings that attached the chain to the clamps didn't allow for a total transference of the heat from the flame, the chain was the hottest part of this torture device. This had been why Master held it from my skin for awhile. It was also why he then let it fall onto my hairy chest. It was still very hot, and when it hit its' target, my chest hair burned and the hot chain seared into my flesh. The pain was exquisite, and the smell of the burnt hair was unmistakable. 

Anybody that has smelled singed hair knows what it smells like; burnt pig. After raping my now quite eager mouth with his tongue for a few luxuriously painful minutes, Master stood up, still holding the candle. I could see where the hot chain had melted the wax about a third of the way through on one side, halfway up the candle. Master's eyes became fiery once more, and his gentleness vanished.

"WHAP!" Master had raised his left hand holding the candle and swiftly clubbed my clit and pig balls with it, breaking the candle in two at precisely where the chain had melted it. Luckily my hardened clit took much of the blow, but my pig balls also took their share and they still ached from all the previous torment inflicted upon them. 

"AHHHHHHH!!!!!!" I cried out in agony.

"Listen slut. You are longer a male. You are a bitch, a pig-bitch. You are no longer to call me Daddy. No one can save you from your wretched fate. I own your ass now, and from now on you are to call me Master or Sir! Got it pig-bitch!"

"Yes Master...yes Sir" I moaned both just to make sure I got it right.




The Rape of a Male Slut



"I wonder what your father would say if he could see you as you are now, a pathetic, sobbing, pig-slut, waiting to have her pussy bred! Perhaps, he would like to see a video of how wantonly you act like a slut, bitch! That will be arranged if you ever cross your Master, PIG! It might even be arranged regardless!" As I would later learn, my new Master filmed everything. Cameras were hidden everywhere in his condo. The main reason that I can relate to you so clearly about what happened to me that night, is that I viewed it many, many times over; usually tightly bound to that leather chair in his living room, bound and with a butt plug firmly up my ass.

After I am finished with you, no one would ever believe that you haven't always been a pig-whore, craving for men to use your mouth and pussy. Now beg your Master and tell him what you want done to your pussy, bitch!!

I only needed to think for a split second. I knew what Master wanted me to say. The fact is I now wanted to say it. I was truly a bitch in heat.

"Please Master, I beg you! Fuck this pig-bitch with your hard cock! Breed your pig-bitch's pussy, Sir!"

With a satisfied grin, Master took the chain and put it in my mouth, pulling harshly on my poor, fat areolas. It was now very warm, but no longer hot. "Keep that chain in your filthy mouth until I tell you, slut! Torture your own tits! But don't forget that I want you to scream and from now on, your pig slit eyes are not to leave their Master's until he says so!" I must have looked like the biggest slut in the world. Humiliatingly, I felt like it.

I probably was.

Picking up another white candle from the table, Master grabbed the lighter again and lit it. As Master watched the flame flicker, my eyes obediently stared into his. Master then began to consecrate his pig-bitch's body by dripping hot wax all over it.

"A bitch's balls are always to be burned first, to symbolize that they belong to the Master and can be taken from the bitch at any time!" Purple, bulging and stretched by leather, my bitch balls made an easy target. Intense, stinging pain as one drop of wax hit its' target, was quickly matched by another stinging ache in another. The hair on my balls offered no protection, because it was no longer there. My bitch balls were bare.

While I obediently and submissively stared into my Master's eyes, his orbs glared back with a stone cold and clinical, aura to them. The demonic twinkling was gone, and they now carried the insipid sensibilities that a doctor's eyes might have, while removing a planter's wart for the thousandth time. Master clearly had performed consecrations like this many times.

"Next to come is a bitch's clit, to symbolize that a bitch-clit is mostly there for the Master to inflict pain for his own pleasure. A bitch is never to touch her clit, unless granted Master's permission. Only Master decides when a pig-bitch's clit shall receive any gratification. Furthermore, pig-bitches never breed or use their clits on others. Pig-bitches are only bred by their Master and whoever else he decides." 

I would like to describe how horrible it was when the wax hit my pig-clit. I would like to, but I can't. You see, my new clit betrayed me as much as my old cock did, and seemed to relish the tortuous attention.

"And finally my pathetically slutty, pig-bitch, we move on to those ludicrously fat sow tits of yours", Master said as he bumped his rock hard cock forcefully into my balls and clit.

I felt Master's cock harden even more beneath the leather briefs that he was still wearing. A smile came to his face and the eye twinkle returned. Master showed sadistic lust toward my abnormally fat, protruding areolas, as I felt myself humiliatingly blush with pride. All of my life I had been teased and derided for my peculiarly hefty and chubby areolas. But that was when I was a man. Now I was a pig-bitch, and bitches are supposed to have fat tits. With a sense of satisfaction that he approved, my clit jumped against Master's leather encased cock buttressed against me. Yanking the chain from my mouth, Master tugged forcefully, stretching my flabby areolas skyward, while the clamps unmercifully remained steadfast as they dug into my pig flesh. Beaming with shameful pride, I felt like a mother might when her infant painfully latches on for food the very first time. If my bitch balls hadn't been strangulating in the harness, and my clit had not been tightly bound, I would have cum for sure.

"Did you hide those sow tits in a bra when you were a boy, bitch?" Not responding immediately he yanked a little harder on the chain. "Answer me, pig! Did you?!!!!"

"No Sir, I didn't. No sir...No sir...NO MASTERRRRRRR!"

"Well, as you are about to see, there is a first time for everything! You will make a fabulously slutty whore, PIG!" As Master continued to pull on the chain, he began dripping hot wax on the tits and chest of his recently enslaved sow. God it hurt and I screamed out loud.

"Ohhhh GOD Master...AHHHHHHHHH! Oh my GOD!"

"Excellent bitch! Suffer! Burning your pig tits with wax symbolizes the carnal nourishment that your Master gets when I torture them!" He went hog wild, pardon the pun, dropping more wax on my tits and chest than he had previously dripped on all of the rest of my body. Suddenly, with a slashing motion, Master made a quick "X" on my torso with dripping wax, marking his bitch for breeding.

Finally satisfied that his pig-bitch was sufficiently covered, Master blew the candle out, leaned forward, and roughly slapped me with his right hand. "In PAIN thou shall be bred, BITCH!" he said, then quickly turned and walked toward the table and dropped the candle. With his marvelously muscular back towards me now, I saw him reach for something and appeared to take off its' top. When he twisted back toward me I saw that he was carrying a large, fat can of Crisco. I would soon wish that it had been of the 'butter flavored' variety. Master merely dropped the open can on my taught abdomen, cracking a patch of the now cooling wax. Scooping up a glop with his index and middle fingers, Master positioned his right hand slowly between my stretched legs, as my pig-pussy twitched in panicky anticipation of the pain that was sure to come. With his eyes never averting those of his apprehensive victim's, Master remained silent.

Previously, when my new Master had probed my bung hole with his gloved index finger, he did so only to about the first digit. Master had at that time, readied me for the thin nozzle of the enema tube, and I was swimming in the drugs that he had given me. Now, sober and alert with fearful anticipation, Master was going to prepare my virgin bitch-pussy for the ravishing of his fat, long, bulbous bull-cock. After a few swipes outside his sow's vagina, Master, without warning, simply shoved his index finger straight into my helpless pig-pussy, while my cunt lips vainly tried to fight off the onslaught.

"Pig slop for my pig-bitch's pussy", he shouted as he immediately circled his finger roughly around, giving the pussy on this sow no time to get used to this invasion. "AH, the fine, tight pussy of a virgin bitch, there is nothing better!" Master shouted as he began to work in his middle finger, while continuing to circle the index one. Master cared little to give his bitch the time to accommodate the pain.

"AHHHHH, MASTER, PLEASE!!!" I cried in anguish.

"This is nothing PIG!" Master bellowed while massaging my prostate a few times. Then, Master's two fingers raped my pussy with a half dozen quick strokes, and pulled his hand out. "That's enough stretching, pig-bitch. I don't want to loosen your cunt too much. I want your breeding to hurt BAAAAD!"

My pussy, unsure what had just happened, seemed to spasm like it was going through a horrible, epileptic fit. "Oh God MASTERRR! You CAN'T put your cock in me...It will never fit!"

With a broad, bright white, devilish smile on his face, Master took a step back and then calmly walked around the left side of the bed. Extending his right arm, he waived the two fingers that he had just removed from my ass, and said softly, "Oh it will fit alright, you sow skank, it WILL fit very painfully into that tight cunt of yours, I can assure you! Now keep that slut mouth open, and don't you dare spit or swallow!" Master's fingers were swiftly probing my mouth in a swilling motion, coating my oral cavity with the mixture of Crisco and bitch-pussy juice. 

The pastiness of the fatty Crisco coupled with the pungency of my natural cunt juices, tasted dreadful as I fought to obediently honor his command. It wasn't until Master's fingers began to massage my larynx in much the same way he had my prostate that I began to gurgle and choke. After a few more swirls of his fingers, they withdrew. Master disgustingly wiped the residue of Crisco, saliva and pussy juices, into my hair. Satisfied that they were clean enough, he grabbed the hair on the top of my head and pulled it and my shoulders off the bed a few inches, as he lustfully bent down to stare in his prey's eyes. "Time for you to grease my cock for the festivities, my beautiful, putrid pig-bitch. Don't you dare swallow, whore!" How I obeyed, I do not know.

Master withdrew his magnificently compact body from the bed. Glaring me in the eyes, he slowly reached his thumbs under the sides of his leather shorts, Master unhurriedly pulled them down to display his engorged weapon. He was readying himself to slay his pig-bitch. "Keep your fucking eyes on NOTHING but this until I enter that pig-bitch cunt of yours." Master said as he cupped his huge balls with his right hand and began stroking his fully erect and menacing phallus, with his right. "But make no mistake... when I begin breeding you bitch, your eyes had better not leave mine!" 

I was helpless to say a word, as my mouth was still filled with Crisco and juices. Not knowing what to do, I managed to gurgle a moan. Master strolled around to the foot of the bed and grabbed my two shins, as my bound, tightly stretched legs barely yielded. Still wearing his black leather combat boots, Master raised his left foot onto my pig-clit and balls, roughly rubbing it back and forth on them. In one rapid motion, Master used his powerful arms to leverage himself, so that suddenly, he was standing one footed on his pig-bitch's groin. Momentarily grabbing the wood beam attached to the top of the bed posts to steady himself, Master began grinding the sole of his boot into his property's groin.. Did it hurt? Oh, yeah! But I dared not let my eyes stray from his bull-cock. My teary eyes remained on his cock not only because Master himself had ordered me as such; his superb cock commanded me itself, simply with its own inert, and yet compellingly dynamic, presence. 

Stepping forward with his right foot, Master released his hands from the beam, thereby temporarily putting the full weight of his being on my organ. Pain seared through my loins and my eyes welled up. Writhing in agony, I soon mercifully felt the instep of Master's right boot slap against the side of my head on my left ear, followed by his other boot doing the same to the right side. Master squeezed my head with his boots as he stood above me on the bed. My eyes, watery as they were, saw nothing now but Master's gloriously colossal balls and steel hard, bull-cock.

"Listen up carefully pig-bitch. You will be tutored tomorrow on the way that I expect my bitch-whores to give a proper blow job. Right now the only thing that I want you to concentrate on is to lather that pig fat in your pig mouth all over my cock with your tongue. Keep your head straight ahead, and don't let your eyes leave mine as you worship my cock. Oh yeah, one more thing. Try not to choke to death you inexperienced pig-slut."

Bending his knees, Master squatted and pulled up the back of my head with his right hand, as he guided his cock to my open mouth with his left. My jaw still ached terribly from the long time that it had been stretched by the ring gag. Master had raped my mouth previously, but my filthy orifice was forced open then, and I was drugged. While violent, it lasted only a few fast strokes. This time, Master sadistically eased his manhood into my mouth slowly, so that I could properly measure it with my lips, tongue and throat. Master wanted to make sure that I fully understood the size of the bull-cock that was about to take my tight, bitch-pussy's virginity. Frankly I surprised myself. Immediately upon penetrating this pig-bitch's lips, my greedy tongue began swirling around Master's thick fuck-pole, savoring its' uncut head.

"That's a good bitch. Tomorrow I am going to teach you how to be a proper cock sucker. Come on pig, take some more. Get all that shit on my cock, so that I can ram it up your worthless cunt and claim it." Shoving his cock in about a third of the way, Master stopped and held it there. Rather than being scared anymore, I relished in my new task. I don't know how it could, but Master's cock swelled even bigger.

"Oh yeah, my perverted pig-slut. Such a natural whore. You'll make me some money bitch." Master's other hand found its' way to the back of my head, holding it in both hands now like a melon. I felt so shamelessly slutty, as I was now lusting for his cock. My Master seemed to approve of me!

"Can you count to seven, bitch? Never mind, I can!"

With that, Master swiftly pulled my head up, while he pressed his groin down. I felt his pubic hair touch my nose at the same time as all air stopped coming in. He was going to choke me to death on his bull-cock, and I couldn't move. But I wasn't supposed to move, I was supposed to take this abuse, and I was doing a good job of it. My God, what a sick, pathetic, fuck I had become!

"One.....Two....Oh yeah slut!.......Three......Four........Choke on that cock!!......Five......You fucking....... Six.....BITCH!!!! 

Master pulled out his unspent cock, and pushed my head into the mattress without saying 'seven'. I was neither in any shape to, nor had the inclination to, bring up his blunder. As it was, I had made a serious blunder myself.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

"Bitch, you are going to have to learn to withdraw those goddamned teeth of yours behind your whore lips, or I will have to pull every goddamn, mutherfucking one of them out.!, Master said this as he spit twice on me once again, only this time all over my eyes and face.

'I AM SORRY MASTER! I AM SO SORRRRRRRY! AHHHHHHHHH!" I yelped like the stuck pig that I was as he reached around his back, grabbed that chain of the alligator clamps, stood partially up, and leaned over me. Another rain of spit found mostly my mouth as I was now blubbering like Tammy Fay Baker, only a lot more pathetic.

As Master dropped the chain and stood up, he used the heel of his right boot and slammed it into the left side of my bound, throbbing body. Retreating backwards off the bed while glaring into my eyes, Master placed his left boot on my clit and used it like a springboard to jump backward off the bed. It was an excellent dismount, worthy of an Olympic gymnast.

"Enough of this shit! I have a busy day today." 

Today? I had absolutely no idea what time or even what day it was. There were no clocks that I could see, and though I didn't really know it at that time, the two windows in this room were covered by thick, black fabric tacked in snuggly around their frames. There were cameras hidden that illuminated tiny blinking lights at their bases when on, (and they were on), but they were unnoticeable with all the flickering candles in the room. I only knew one thing for sure; it was breeding time. It was time for me to be fucked in my taut, virgin pig-pussy. 

Laying there in sheer terror, bound, broken, and swallowing Master's spit pooled with remnants of Crisco, little did I know that never again would my former Daddy's consuming lips and piercing tongue, use my mouth again. If I had known that fact, then what was about to happen next would have been truly, utterly, and dreadfully unbearable. 

MY RAPE, MY BREEDING, MY REBIRTH

Stoking his bull-cock while scrutinizing my eyes framed beyond the bound, stretched legs of my carcass, Master reached behind him on the table and produced a small, leather

strap. Wrapping it around the back of his balls, he snapped it at the base of his brilliant cock. "Your eyes never leave mine now pig! Understand?

"Yes Master, I understand."

"Do you understand what I am about to do to you bitch?" Master said this in a commanding, but almost cavalier manner. 

"Yes Master. You are going to fuck me Sir." My arms and shoulders felt as if they were going to break, and my tits burned. Crying softly between sniffles, my body was a beaten mess covered in melted wax.

"Where am I going to fuck you pig!"

"In my ass Master. You are going to fuck me in my ass."

There was silence as I could see Master's eyes slowly turn red with rage. Out of nowhere a leather riding crop rained down from midair and whipped my clit and balls, with a thunderous 'WHACK'!

"Pig, haven't you (WHACK!) learned (WHACK!) yet where BITCHES (WHACK!) get bred?!! (WHACK!) My clit was standing up straight, so my bitch-balls absorbed more than their share of the abuse. My balls hated the experience but my clit liked it. Betrayed.

"AHHHHHHHH! OH MY GOD! I AM SORRY MASTER! BITCHES ARE FUCKED IN THEIR PUSSIES MASTER! I AM SORRY.... AHHHHHHH!"

Satisfied with the answer for the moment, Master threw the crop onto my chest, and breathing heavily, roughly grabbed my thighs, pulling himself towards his pig-bitch. Master's rock hard bull-cock poked into the crack of my pussy, as he pressed against it for a few seconds. Spitting on his right hand, this sadistic, perverse, handsome man stroked his cock a few times, glaring into my masochistically wanton eyes. 

Fucking my pussy with his middle finger a few times, Master lathered spit and Crisco into my cunt. This was quickly followed by his other finger, as Master began raping me once more with his hand. Rather than complaining, I began moaning like I was taking my morning dump. "Oh God....oh God! ...Ooooohhhhhh Goddddddddddddd"

"You sick perverted FUCK! Look at you pig-bitch! You were born to be a whore! I am going to have to add a few more dudes tomorrow, pig! The brothers are going to love this white pussy! Too bad tomorrow's party at the bath house is a freebie!" I started to close my eyes, when suddenly they were opened by a thunderous (WHACK!) as Master picked up the riding crop in his left hand and whipped my right breast. When I shrieked, he placed the crop across my mouth and began pulling on the chain, torturing my dying tits.

"Scream all you want pig, but don't let that crop leave your mouth! I have something else to hold onto while I breed your pussy! Now keep your fucking pig slits looking directly at me!" Master said as he yanked once more on the chain. Oh fuck my fat tits hurt! 

After one more sharp tug, Master dropped the chain and slapped both of his hands on my straining thighs, and yelled "It's breeding time, you worthless pig-slut! Are you ready bitch! BEG for it pig! BEG" 

I wasn't ready for it. The dreadful pain in my tits was all that I could feel, but like a true pain-pig, I screamed, "YES Master! Oh my God my tits hurt! Yes Master! Please fuck me Master! Please breed your bitch! Please....PLEASE!"

ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE, BITCH

When Master's bulbous cock head began to enter my virgin pussy, my cunt lips tried to clamp down like a bear trap. A thoughtful lover would have soothingly implored me to relax my sphincter, but my cruel Master was rarely thoughtful. He did take his time though, but not because he wanted to be kind. You see, if Master would have simply pounded my pussy without regard to any damage that it would have done, then I would have been ruined for the events that he had planned for the next few days, and ultimately, the next several months. 




The Rape of a Male Slut



Mine was a Master on a mission, and his mission was to literally 'break' me in. My pussy was now his property to dispose of as he chose of course, but he had many plans for his pig-bitch, and he did not want to 'ruin' this pig's cunt....yet. Master instinctively sensed when to pause his thick cock in order to allow his bitch to accommodate it. OH GOD it hurt, especially the first third of Master's long bull-cock; Master's circumcised head was the worst. 

When the whole head of Master's cock had successfully pushed its' way past my pussy bud, my eyes began to roll in my head, only to be implored to look my Master in his eyes by the intense pain in my tits when he pulled on that chain. Master had all night, shown no mercy when torturing my tits. Master did so obviously because it brought him great pleasure to see my tortured state, but he did so also because he was training me. Master wanted me to moan like a good slut-bitch should when her breasts are pawed at. I was being trained in the ways that a horny female slut acts, and by brutally tenderizing my breasts, I would be forced to moan when others grabbed them. 

Short, quick poking strokes where expertly used by my new Master until his cock was about a third of the way in. Master then held his cock in his bitch's cunt for awhile and verbally abused me some more in order to allow my pussy lips to relax a bit, before readying me for a sex education lesson that I never learned in school..

"Oh yeah bitch, I told you it would be painful! Bitch's are supposed to bear pain when they are bred and pig-bitches like you where born to be pain sluts. Suffer you fucking, pathetic sow!" 

HOLY SHIT, did he have to pull on that blasted chain again? I would have asked for a bowling ball to be shoved up my ass at this moment time, if Master would have just let my fat tits be. My arms were dead from lack of blood, and my shoulders were cramping with spasms. 

Then it happened, and I was sure that I was going to pass out once more. It would not be from being drugged this time, but rather from the excruciating horror that I experienced when, with one sharp jerk of Master's right hand, the alligator clamps finally, and unmercifully, lost their grip. When the clamps ripped off my fat, ravaged areolas, and the blood began to return to my tits, my scream was blood curdling. 

"OH FUCK!!!!! HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! MERCY MASTER! PLEASE!! OH FUCK! PLEASE! IT HURTS SO BAD! PLEASE! PLEEEEAAAASEEEEE!

{At this precise point in time, Master gave me that sex education lesson, and one that is never taught it schools. It was a non-verbal lesson, but let me summarize it quickly for you here. -- Most women don't really like anal sex. I could certainly understand why up to this point. It fucking hurts. Women don't have prostates; only men have prostates. If boys learned in school how incredible it feels to have their prostates touched, massaged, and fucked, the world would have a hell of a lot less people in it, and women would be a lot more lonely That is why this undeniable fact is never taught in schools. End of lesson.}

My gorgeous Master then shoved his unbelievable cock all the way up my pussy, stretching my fuck canal almost beyond its' then current capacity. As my pussy walls stretched in incredible pain, Master's bull-cock found its' mark, and he rapidly began slamming his considerable manhood to the hilt, over and over again. As I noted before, Master bestowed on me the honor of watching my deflowering later many times, and I can unequivocally say that he easily kept up this assault on my pussy for fifteen minutes or so, ruthlessly pounding on my G spot. It felt as if Master fucked be for two hours; it felt as if Master bred me for two seconds.

"You like this bitch, don't you! What a fucking whore you are you worthless pig! Master bellowed while spitting at his pig-bitch's face once more. Thank your Master's cock you goddamned, sow! 

"OH GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD! HOLY JESUS! FUCK ME MASTER! IT FEELS SO GODDAMNED GOOD! FUCK ME! BREED YOUR BITCH, OH YEAH!

POUND MY PUSSY! PLEEEEAAAASSSSEEE MASTERRRRRRRR!!

Harnessed or not, my bitch-cum forced its' way free from my pig-clit, and splattered all over the wax still sticking to the skin of my abdomen. Pig-bitch was now in the sexually hypnotic state that only a truly perverted slut-bitch can feel. Totally losing all senses except those that could be felt in my pussy and my clit, my body writhed into orgiastic, carnal Nirvana. When Master finally came inside his newly claimed property, I was a writhing, spastic, cock addicted bitch, who would forevermore do anything to experience such sheer pleasure again.

John Paulsen, that sadistic, handsome man whom my father had sent me to in preparation for life in the working world, had finally transformed me into his own personal pig-bitch slave. It was the most erotically poignant and irrefutably ironic, moment in my life. I had lost my 'Daddy' earlier that night when Master broke me, but in finally taking my virgin pussy, my own father lost his son. It would have killed my father to know that after twenty one years of successfully raising a boy, in one long night, the man he sent me to, John Paulsen, was able to torture and fuck the inner bitch out of me. Enslaved, I was now at long last free. Pig-bitch was free at last, free at last, oh Master thank you, I was free at last.

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EPILOGUE TO CHAPTER ONE

By the way, John Paulsen didn't lie about that job interview. My case was taken over by Harry, my father's friend, and I was sent to an interview two weeks after John claimed me as his pig-bitch. Harry never told me that he had fired John, but he did say that the company was one that John was 'working with' when he 'left'. I got the job, which almost immediately took me all over the country, and a few years later, the world. So you see, my father actually did help me make a wonderful career for myself. 

John Paulsen meanwhile, according to the terms of his contract when he was fired, got the commission on my case. Master loved it when he got his check in the mail, and brutally sodomized me with it clutched firmly between my teeth.

I did eventually tell my father about that night, though. Eighteen years later, after a horrible accident had claimed their lives, and while holding hands with my Mistress/wife, I cried over my parents grave and told them my life story; the story of a perverted male slut-bitch. Later that night in a hotel room, finding myself helplessly bound and gagged to a chair with a butt plug shoved up my ass, I was forced to watch my Mistress make love in a bed before me, to a black guy she picked up in the hotel bar. I remained bound in that chair all night while they made love. The guy left the next morning never to be seen again, but not until after he bred me while I worshiped my Mistress's pussy.

END OF CHAPTER ONE 

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PERSONAL NOTE

If you made it to the end of my first chapter, I sincerely want to thank you. For those of you who do not like my story, I deeply apologize that it wasn't worthy of your time. If any of you liked it, I will be completely delighted. This is my first attempt at erotic fiction, although how "erotic" this is I know is up to debate. But it happened, and it is as accurate as I can remember, both living through it and having seen it on video many times. Years have a way of changing our perception of the past, but this night is indelibly burned into my soul.

There are more chapters to this story, and if people want to read them, I would like to finish it. There are many more sick and twisted things that were done to me that weekend. Many more men would use, abuse, torture, humiliate and sodomize me, the next day. Sunday I would be dressed and used as a female bitch, turned out as a whore for the first time, although I surely didn't see any of the money. 

I have many more stories to tell as well. Most are true, but some only happened in the perverted, twisted mind of a humbled slave, slut and male whore. Please feel free to comment about my writing or my life, whether good, bad or indifferently disgusted. I welcome all feed back. Email me if you like. I am a needy pig-bitch. ;--)