****** From young man to boi to bitch to object ******
                           Provided By: BDSM_Library
                              www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: A young man gets turned into a bitch boi by a brutal man and from
there he becomes ever more the fenminized object
From young man to boi to bitch to object
by 2nn

Not for minors! If you are not an adult, stop reading and go elsewhere
now! If BDSM, bondage, sexual slavery and homosexuality offends you,
please stop reading. Please keep in mind that this story is a work of
FICTION; nothing more.

Prologue: The young man
The young man stepped off the buss with a big fat smile on his face in
spite of being more than a little tired from the long trip. Having left
small town life behind him once and for all, shedding the few loosely
attached friends and his strange spinster aunt, he had arrived in the
city ready to pursue his dreams of independence and possibly even
wealth. His ideas about how to achieve these things were hazy at best,
but now that he had arrived in the city he was sure that it would work
out. The buss terminal was not exactly a nice and inviting place, but it
bustled with activity and to the young man it seemed like a perfect
place to land. A pair of very attractive Latino girls passed right in
front of him only ten feet out of the buss, their heels clicking the
pavement as their large and inviting asses danced a come-fondle-me rumba
seemingly just for him. One of them cast a lazy look over her shoulder
as she passed him and as she returned his smile, he felt himself go to
half mast. Coming to the city was the best decision he had ever taken.

The predator sat on a bench in the buss terminal seemingly reading his
newspaper, but in reality scanning the people stepping off the long
distance busses, in search of his next boi. Four weeks before he had
sold his very, very well trained and supremely disciplined boi to a
couple of brutal gay men. The man was sure that his old property would
fulfill their demands; no matter how perverse. The last traces of
resistance and free will had long since been removed from of the boi,
leaving only the supremely compliant slave boi that had been his
property.

It had been a very lucrative deal, but it left him without a steady hole
to deposit his sperm in. He had of course been to some very select clubs
to take the worst pressure off, but having someone else's pre-trained
slave scream as you fucked and tortured him just wasn't the same as
having your own boi to dominate completely and utterly. And while a
quick snatch and rape at random was definitely fun it was also
dangerous; he had to find himself a more permanent boi and that soon.

So ever since he had sold his boi, the predator had been discretely
checking out the various places in the city where young men with few or
no connections could be found: train stations, buss terminals, street
corners in not so nice parts of town, seedy student lodgings, gathering
places for migrant workers and so on. The man had abducted many young
men over time, turning them into docile slave bois without even the
semblance of free will, and although he had taken bois from all manner
of places, the buss terminals had provided the most bountiful yield over
time. He never stayed long enough to be noticed, often watching the
place from a nearby corner or in a car and when the young man stepped
off the buss, the predator had only been inside the building for fifteen
minutes pretending to wait for someone.

The young man had the right look; about five feet nine inches, perhaps a
little shorter, slim and attractive and not really feminine to look at,
just a little delicate. As the young man passed him on his way out, he
could smell that he was a non-smoker and see that his ass and legs,
inside his tight jeans, were very nice and looked well-trained without
the young man being an outright athlete.

The young man exited the terminal, completely unaware that he was being
followed by a supremely evil, brutal and dangerous man, a man who would
soon change his life into an unending chain of sexual molestations,
beatings and humiliations. A man who would change the young man's sexual
orientation even.

But that was in the future. For now the young man had caught up with the
two attractive Latinas and was chatting them up as they waited for the
light to change. Both were small and dark, with dark eyes and fine,
delicate skin. The one who had looked over her shoulder, had smooth,
black hair all the way down to her waist, loosely gathered in a pony
tail and large, slightly pouty lips spelling "come kiss me" and possibly
more than that. She wore a loose, white shirt, but was unable to hide
her more than ample breasts, which moved in a manner revealing that
nothing but the shirt hampered their motion. Her shapely legs and fine
ass was held by ultra tight jeans and she wore black stiletto sandals,
heels more than five inches high. Even so she was more than three inches
lower than his five feet eight inches.

The young man had light brown hair, fair, smooth skin and blue eyes and
he had always had it easy with women. Only eighteen years old, he was
already an experienced man when it came to women. His first sexual
experience had been with the three years older girl next door even
before high school and since then he had never looked back. Apart from
more than a few high school girls the same age as himself, he had also
had sexual relationships with his English teacher in high school, who
used her husband's long and frequent absences to enjoy the many
pleasures afforded by young boys at the high school were she worked. She
had been a bombshell, with huge tits and a ferocious manner in bed, but
she had been no match for her superior, the principal of the high
school.

His principal did not have huge tits like his English teacher and she
certainly didn't look like an animal in bed, but she was. The last year
of high school had been a pleasant nightmare for him, where he
constantly struggled to keep up, or rather stay ahead, while spending
more than half the weeknights satisfying the school's principal
sexually. She had taught him many things, but the one he had enjoyed the
most was when she had allowed him to tie her up and spank her before
fucking her. My God! The power of it! Her farewell fuck to him, the
night before he stepped on the buss, had been to allow him to tie her in
a standing spread-eagle, gag her, blindfold and whip her severely before
first inserting a huge vibrating dildo in her ass and then fuck her
senseless. And then he let her hanging there until he got his freak on
again and whipped her until she screamed, after which he fucked her
again. His principal's final parting gift had been delivered kneeling at
her doorstep, her body covered in red welts, as she blew him, her eyes
full of tears. Whatever else might happen, he decided that it certainly
wasn't going the last time he tied someone up and fucked them.

As he followed the two girls across the street, chatting amiably with
the bigtitted one, who was obviously interested in him, his principal
was at the back of his mind as he pictured the girl tied up as the older
woman had been. This time, however, he was out of luck. Her friend,
obviously jealousy, dragged the bigtitted looker away and he was left
standing at a random street corner in a city he didn't know.

Discreetly following the young man, the predator laughed inwardly to
himself. Not because the young man had been snubbed by the girls, but
with anticipation. He looked forward to taking this attractive little
womanizer and turning him into a simpering, oh-so eager to please slave
boi. He laughed at the prospect of turning the confident and obviously
very sexually secure young heterosexual male into a slave nothing
focused solely on pleasing only a dominant man. Breaking him to that
would be supremely satisfying.

For now, however, he had the problem of grabbing him to contend with.
Following him and grabbing him without being noticed. It was early
afternoon and the city was teeming with people, so finding a spot for
the grab was hard. But then again; the greater the challenge, the
greater the glory and the glorious feeling of having the young man
writhe, screaming and begging at the end of his cock was well worth the
challenge to the predator.

After grabbing the young man and subduing him, which he foresaw would be
no big problem, the predator would have the problem of transportation.
To transport his new slave boi he would need a car and since he was now
following the young man on foot away from his car that posed a problem.
But, being an experienced predator he of course had a solution to that
problem. Increasing his pace, he soon caught up with the young man
completely unnoticed. As he passed him he took advantage of the fact
that the young man was looking at a poster advertising cheap lodgings
and unnoticed slipped a GPS-tracker into an open and unused pocket of
the young man's bag. That the young man had been looking at cheap
lodgings hadn't escaped his attention either and in confirmed his
suspicion that the young man was indeed a newcomer with no attachments
or contacts in the city. He was a perfect object and the challenge now
was catching him before he left any noticeable footprints in the city.
If the predator did it right, and he had always done so in the past, it
would be as if the young man had vanished into thin air the moment he
stepped off the buss.

The predator crossed the street and well away from the young man, but
still within visual range of him, he took out his tracking device and
made sure it worked and that the signal was ok. That established, he
walked away from his prey, back to his parked car. So as not to provoke
undue attention, his car, rented under a false identity and only used
for this one "job", was parked in an underground garage. Checking his
looks in the mirror, he made sure that that his wig and glasses still
looked perfect, he then drove off, following the signal from his
unsuspecting prey.

The young man of course, knew nothing of all this. He went to a local
market to look at posters. There were plenty of adds for rooms, but they
were all too expensive or too seedy. He did, however, spend some time
chatting up a pretty girl working at the place and in spite of drawing a
blank with regards to lodgings, he felt upbeat as he left. Turning right
he had walked a few hundred yards when he passed an alley in which a man
was trying to get a very large suitcase into the back of his SUV. The
man had considerable difficulty with the task as his right arm was in a
cast. The young man was of a helpful nature and stopped at once.
However, he wasn't a complete idiot and before approaching the man to
offer his help, he checked the situation out. The SUV was parked not ten
yards away from the busy street, the alley was wide, looked clean and
was actually well lit. About thirty yards further down the same alley a
crew of workers were working in a small store. The man, although large,
didn't look dangerous, creepy or otherwise intimidating. In fact he
looked a little pathetic, with longish hair and a pair of bad glasses.
All in all the situation looked completely harmless and so the young man
approached the man struggling with the suitcase and offered his help.
The man with the damaged arm was very grateful and thanked him profusely
as they together hoisted the very large suitcase into the back of the
SUV. The suitcase was so heavy that the young man thought it might
actually be full of bricks. He wasn't far off, as the predator had
filled it with bags full of dirt. The loading complete the man with the
cast on his right arm extended his hand to the young man to thank him.
As their hands touched the young man felt a slight sting in his hand and
looked down to see the tiniest of needles sticking out of the man's cast
and into his hand. Jerking his head up he just had time to see the
predatory smile on the other man's face and the evil glint in his eye.
He tried to pull his hand away and yell out at the same time, but found
that all his strength had gone and that his mouth was seemingly full of
cotton. Then the world began to spin and his knees buckled. Unable to
move, the only thing breaking his fall was the other man elegantly
catching him and effortlessly swinging him into the back of the SUV,
actually throwing him over the giant suitcase and far into the back of
the giant vehicle.

He was still conscious, but the world spun and his eyes were unable to
hold focus. And he had no control over his body at all. He felt how he
pissed himself while being unable to even clench his fist. He didn't
notice that the other man had anticipated this too and placed him on a
blanket placed on top of a tarp. The young man heard something being
thrown into the car and landing beside him, but didn't see that it was
his belongings. Then the open tailgate slammed shut and he lay on the
floor of the SUV, isolated from the rest of the city; the city that was
his last and only hope of escape.

The predator looked around and saw nothing. No one had seen him grab the
young man, not even the passersby ten yards away. Of course he had timed
it well so that no one was actually directly in front of the alley when
he did the deed, but you never knew what might happen. He checked the
ground and satisfied that there was no trace left of the young man, he
walked to the side door of the SUV, from where he would be able to work
without being disturbed. First he cut the young man's clothes off,
leaving him completely naked. He had an even better body than the
predator had imagined; smooth, lithe and suitably muscled and with a
beautiful cock which looked quite bit larger than the average. Slaves
with small cocks might be easy to mock and ridicule, but slaves with
large cocks were easier to torture (more area to punish) and their shock
always seemed much more severe when their beloved cocks were locked
away, out of their own control for good. The clothes were stuffed into
the young man's bag, which he would shortly dispose of anyway. Then the
predator removed a somewhat larger syringe from his abduction kit.
Speaking softly to the young man: "Hush now pretty boi. You are going to
have so much fantastic sex, you lucky bitch, but for now you must
sleep," he then injected the young man with a powerful sedative and
watched as he closed his eyes and lay completely still, breathing
softly. The predator then bound the young man's ankles and knees
together with plastic strips, before proceeding to do the same with his
arms. He then opened the very large suitcase, took out the many bags of
dirt and then effortlessly placed the young man inside. Just before
closing it, he stuffed the young man's mouth with a rag and secured this
with a large strip of duct tape.

Then he drove off. First stop was a huge old junk yard well outside city
limits, which was manned only during the morning hours when the dump
trucks came to deliver their load. Arriving in the fading daylight he
drove right up to the newest pile of garbage, took the young man's
belongings, including his ruined clothes, the stained blanket, the tarp
and his own fake cast out of the truck and using one whole can of gas,
he burned them all, staying and tending the fire until he was sure
nothing was left. Then he removed the bags of dirt and poured it over
the fire, making sure no trace was left. The only thing left in the SUV
was the giant suitcase containing the young man. He then cleaned the
whole car, making sure that no trace of either the young man or himself
remained and then he drove off into the darkness, back to the city.

Once back in the city, he drove to the parking lot where he had parked
his own SUV. The parking lot, actually the corner of a huge truck stop
at the edge of the city, had one key feature: It had no surveillance.
Here he transferred the giant suitcase from one SUV to the other, again
made sure no trace of either him or his prey was left in the car and
finally drove off to hand back the rented SUV. An hour later he finally
came back to his own car. Wasting no time, he left the city and headed
for the city he lived in, several hundred miles away from where he had
grabbed his prey. Stopping only once, to make sure that his prey was
breathing and to inject him with the sedative once again, he left no
trace of either himself or the young man.

Chapter 1: Laying down the groundwork for a boi
The young man woke up in complete darkness. He had trouble remembering
what had happened and had no idea where he might be. He tried moving and
found that he couldn't. Moving either his arms or his legs made
something tug at either his wrists or his ankles. And he was standing
up! Naked! What the hell was going on? In a flurry of near panic he
thrashed around, felt his body and immediate surroundings and, after
calming down, finally understood his situation. He was standing up,
completely naked except for something, which felt like leather, covering
his eyes. His arms and legs were pulled as far out to the sides as
possible and were tied with what felt like wide and heavy rubber straps.
Suddenly he remembered that he could speak too and tried: "Hello? Anyone
there?" The sound of his voice was peculiarly flat, as if the sound was
somehow dampened or muffled. There was no reply. He tried again with the
same result. And again. And again, with ever increasing desperation
until he was practically crying. He began pulling aimlessly at his bonds
as he called for help, contact, anything until his voice broke and he
began crying. He was unable to get free from his bonds, alone and naked
in the dark.

Then a voice spoke in the darkness: "Are you quite finished with your
silly hysterics?" it demanded. The voice was more than a little stern,
but with a touch of humor, as if the young man's situation was somehow
amusing. "Who is that?" the young man asked, "where am I?" he continued.
After a deep and very disturbing chuckle, the voice replied: "I am your
new owner and you are in my dungeon; the place where I will teach you
your new position: That of a homo slave boi. Questions?" Again the voice
sounded vaguely amused and the young man became more than a little
scared. Dungeon? Slave boi? Homo? He certainly wasn't a slave and
definitely not a disgusting homo, but here the voice was, claiming that
he was. And to make matters much worse, he was constantly reminded of
his completely helpless situation, of the fact that he was unable to
move, except to thrash a little. The young man, very aware of his own
helplessness, tentatively tried to object: "I..I..I'm not a homosexual,"
he stammered, "I don't like men and I'm not a slave!" he finished
somewhat more desperately than he had intended.

The blow came without warning, a heavy slap rocking his head sharply to
the right. Caught completely by surprise, the surprise was much worse
than the pain, which was considerable. "You are what I want you to be!"
the voice demanded. "If I say you are a faggot slave boi, then you are a
faggot slave boi! Understood?" The young man was more than a little
afraid and very much in doubt what he should answer. If he said "yes" he
would agree to something he thought wrong, but if he said "no" he'd
doubt be hit again. As it was, he waited too long for the voice and this
time the blow hit the right side of his face: "Well boi? Do you
understand?" He opened his mouth and stammered: "Yes, but..." he didn't
get any further as first one fierce slap and then another landed on his
face. "You are whatever I say you are boi! And if I say you are a homo
bitch boi slave, then you are a disgusting, begging and slobbering cock
hungry fucking homo bitch boi! Understood?" This was accentuated by yet
another vicious slap to his face and the young man did his best not to
get slapped again: "Please I.., please, I'm not ... I don't like..." He did
get any further as once again a brutal blow landed, but this time it
didn't land on his face, but rather on his balls. The blow landed, open
hand, directly on his testicles and all the air disappeared from his
lungs. It was as if all the pain in the world concentrated in that one
point and first he had no voice, no way to let the pain out. Instead he
felt sick, nauseous and finally, instead of screaming he retched,
vomited his pain out on the floor. His stomach almost empty, he moaned
with pain, discomfort and nausea.

He heard how the voice flushed the vomit away, felt the water spray on
his legs and heard the comments: "Filthy shit! Disgusting little faggot
who can't take his punishment like a real man should be able to." He
felt sick and ashamed and more than a little afraid. As the sound of
running water stopped, he tried again: "Please, I'm sorry... I... I... didn't
mean to...but I'm not..." his babbling stopped as a rough hand closed around
his scrotum and the menacing voice spoke in his ear, the man's hot
breath on his skin: "One more word out of you and I'm going to beat your
balls until you pass out. Understand? A nod will do." Terrified the
young man nodded and felt the man move away, loosening his grip on his
balls.

"You are a slave boi and you are my slave boi, my property," the voice
said unopposed by the young man, "and I am going to prove this to you
now." The young man heard the man moving behind him and pathetically
tried following him with his blindfolded eyes. He heard what sounded
like a belt buckle being undone and the voice spoke again: "You may
scream all you like, but if I hear a single word out of your mouth, a
single recognizable plea, I'm going to squeeze those nuts of yours until
you pass out." Without waiting for a sign of understanding or much less
approval, the man moved closer and to the young man's horror he felt how
a glob of what felt like cold, greasy gel being forced into his
butt-crack. He knew what had to come next and the horror of it made him
forget everything else and as he felt the man's cock moving in between
his ass-cheeks a long and desperate "Nooo" escaped his throat. The man
reacted by grabbing him by the throat with one hand and by the balls
with the other and then forcing his way into his prey's virgin asshole.
The pain was unbelievable, enormous and outrageously humiliating. He
tried resisting, tried to expel the invader, but the erection was like
steel and the resolve driving it even harder. He felt how he was spread
apart, how the intruder filled him up and dominated all his senses.
Helplessly he cried as he hung there, his words garbled by the hand
clamping down on his throat: "No please..., no. No, no, no, no, no..." But
the man didn't stop and his cock found a rhythm, pumping in and out of
the young man's violated ass at a steady and demanding pace. Soon the
"no" had turned into "Uhh!" and these got ever more strained as the
fucking progress, boring deeper and deeper into his virgin hole.

The fucking was furious, brutal and completely without restraint. The
young man was bounced around like a puppet as the predator raped him,
violated him beyond comprehension, while holding both his throat and his
balls in a vice grip. The young man's garbled pleas turned to desperate
grunts and moans as the vicious fucking continued.

It went on and on, the man raping him keeping a furious pace. The young
man became drenched in sweat as the fucking continued, while his
attacker barely breathed hard while continuing his assault.

Still the fucking continued without sign of slowing down. The young felt
something running down the inside of his leg and thought he might be
bleeding from his brutally abused ass. How could the man who had taken
him keep up the pace? How could he keep on raping him?

The young man found himself loosing his sense of time. There was only
the intense pain and sense of deep and irreparable violation coming from
his ass, mixed with his own sweating and groaning.

And still it went on. The young man could take no more. The pain and
degradation was too much and his groaning turned to screaming.

He was screaming and pleading now, or at least he was trying to. He
would do anything to make the brutal violation of his poor asshole stop.
His attacker was a machine, a monster who went on an on, never stopping,
never slowing down.

All sense of time was long lost. It felt like he had been raped for a
week, fucked in his no longer virgin asshole for days or more. The young
man was reduced to screaming unintelligible pleas, sweating, crying and
begging in sounds no one could understand.

Unbelievably the fucking picked up the pace, his rape now moving so fast
that the young man now looked like a bound puppet wracked by cramps and
spasms as he was being jerked around, screaming desperately.

Then suddenly the predator tightened his grip on the young man's balls
and began kneading them viciously until he finally came, unleashing a
deluge of hot cum up into his victim's violated ass, while at the same
time squeezing his balls brutally. Just before the young man passed out
from the unbelievable pain, the monster spat in his ear: "I told you not
to speak, you useless piece of slave meat!" Then, mercifully, the young
man lost consciousness.

He woke up tormented by the almost unbearable pain in his ass and in his
genitals. The pain, however, was nothing compared to the sense of having
been taken against his will, forced to participate in something against
his nature, the sense of having been violated. He felt almost sick with
that sense of violation and following closely behind this was the shame,
the shame of having been raped. It was huge, unbelievable, filling his
mind. Involuntarily he moaned and the moan brought him back to his
physical reality: He was still bound and blindfolded and had no idea
where he was. Adding to his shame and sense of violation was the fact
that he could feel a stream of what was probably cum, maybe mixed with
blood, running down the inside of his leg. He couldn't help it; he began
first to sob; ever increasing sobs until he broke into outright crying,
tears running from his blindfolded eyes as he was shaken by sobs and
cries. He had never been this low, but for now all that filled him was
the shame at what had already happened to him, of how he had been
violated.

That changed as the voice spoke only inches from his ear: "Silly, sorry
little bitch", it mocked him, "are you really that sorry that your ass
was finally used for what it was really meant?" The young man spasmed
with shock, anger and shame at this, but the voice pressed on: "You are
just property, a piece of faggot fuck meat and now you are crying when
someone comes along and shows you your place in the world? Wake up boi!
This is what you are; a bitch boi, a slave, a warm hole to fuck and
beat, nothing more. Maybe you thought you were worth something, like a
real person, but please! A little bitch like is only for catching and
fucking, not for walking around unsupervised". The young man couldn't
help reacting. Scared and shamed as he was, he had to speak out against
this, had to object. He got a single syllable out of his mouth before
the predator's hand smashing into his already abused genitals stopped
him: "Worthless piece of slave meat!" the voice shouted at him, "You
never speak unless specifically ordered to! Understood?" Still retching
from the unbelievable pain, the young man nodded frantically.

"Now I like my bois to be smooth and hairless", the voice declared, "so
we'll proceed to rid you of that nasty growth of hair inflicting your
fuckable little body." The young cringed at this, but kept quiet, not
wanting his balls beaten any more. The predator waited a little after
saying this and satisfied that his prey didn't offer any protests he
lathered the young man up in shaving cream; a shaving cream smelling
distinctly feminine. Having his face, armpits, legs and body shaved by
another man was bad enough, but the sensation of having his pubic hair
removed nearly made the young man revolt. The hands, which had been so
rough just a few minutes ago when they manhandled him while he was
raped, were now gentle, if very firm, in their treatment of his
genitals. As he felt his pubic hair disappearing as the last body hair
of all, he felt more naked than ever before. Vulnerable. Violated. Raped
and abused. He felt nearly sick as once more those feelings welled over
him, but this time he managed to hold back any outbursts he might have
felt like letting out.

But strangely the rough hand held his cock ever so gently even after the
shaving was over. The man who had grabbed him said nothing and indeed
the young man couldn't even hear his breath. He made no moves, but still
he held the young man's cock, firmly but gently. The young man didn't
dare move, not even as the seconds stretched into minutes and the
minutes grew numerous. What was going on? For his part the predator had
started the slow, brutal and inevitable process of turning the young man
from someone who thought of himself exclusively as a heterosexual, to a
homosexual slave boi who would please anyone, regardless of sex, that he
was ordered to please. So after man long and silent minutes, the
predator began manipulating the young man's completely flaccid cock. For
the first almost ten minutes there was no response whatsoever, nor had
the predator expected one, but after about fifteen minutes of slow,
gentle and expertly performed manipulation, the young man began to get
semi hard. Not much, just a little. Just enough for the young man to
notice and begin struggling. The young man felt panicky. This couldn't
be happening! He had been raped for fucks sake! He had been bound, raped
and beaten! And he had enjoyed none of it; absolutely nothing had been
pleasant. On the contrary, it had been the worst experience of his life.
He had never felt violated and shameful like this and here he was
getting hard because the man who had raped him was giving him a handjob!
It couldn't be happening! It must not be happening!

The young man struggled, still very limited and completely silent as he
was too afraid to cry out, couldn't hide the fact that his cock, which
had been expertly manipulated for more than forty five minutes, was now
full mast. The other hand was fondling his body, finding excitable spots
the young man didn't know he had; the man spent quite a bit of time
rubbing him between his scrotum and asshole as well as occasional
fondling forays up and down his thighs. The predator, so brutal such a
short time ago, kissed the young man's neck gently, blew hot breath into
his ears, pressed his tongue into them. After an hour, the young man was
desperate, pleading for the man to stop. He was full mast now and well
on his way to cuming. He pleaded, begged and even tried shouting to the
man to stop his ministrations. Nothing worked and he didn't even get the
beating he was beginning to hope for, since that would surely stop his
outrageously humiliating erection. The young man became more and more
focused on trying to stop his approaching orgasm, but the more energy he
devoted to preventing it, the more his thoughts strayed to pleasant
sexual experiences, fuelling this unwanted need, his undesired
approaching orgasm. The predator had tried it before. Sometime he had
had to work for a couple of hours to get the new boi to cum, but it was
always well worth the effort. The shame and confusion always worked
wonders with the boi's tiny little mind and in the end made him easier
to control. The man's manipulation had now gone on for more that one and
a half hours, but now the young man was finally loosing beyond a shadow
of a doubt and he knew it. His pleas had turned to shrill, wordless
screams or shrieks and his hips could no longer be held back as he
involuntarily pumped the predator's manipulating hands. Finally, almost
two hours after the predator began his manipulations, the young man
came. With a desperate, hopeless, scream, his body arched back in his
bonds, every muscles straining as he shot his load, spraying his hot and
shameful cum out on his captor's floor.

Even more shamed and violated than after his rape, the young man broke
down crying as the last spasms left his body. This couldn't be
happening! He couldn't be enjoying this! Not any of it! The rough hands,
the hands which had just brought him to that most hated orgasm, then
grabbed his head, his face and the voice whispered into his ear: "I knew
you were a little faggot just waiting to get caught, a little faggot who
deep down wants to be bound and raped every day of his life". It was too
much and the young man opened his mouth, drew breath in preparation only
to be cut off by the predator kissing him - deeply. Kissing him hard and
long and completely deflating him with surprise and shame. It wasn't
that he responded to the kiss, he didn't, but the fact that he was being
treated as homosexual slave, someone who loved being dominated. And to
make matters even worse as the man continued his long and probing kiss,
a small voice in the back of his mind said that the kiss was not unlike
the one his English teacher had given him when she had seduced him for
the first time: Soft, yet commanding. The young man recoiled at this,
but there was nowhere to retreat to: the predator held him tightly and
the kissing continued, now followed up by increased groping and
fondling. He hated it, but was utterly incapable of preventing it.

Finally it stopped and the evil man withdrew. And then the blindfold
came off, revealing for the first time to the young man his prison. It
was surprisingly small, only about twelve by fifteen feet. The walls and
the floor were made from what looked like very dark concrete, so dark it
was almost black. The ceiling, about ten feet up, seemed to be the same
color and was fitted with no less than five large fluorescent light
tubes, casting the whole room in a harsh and unforgiving white glare. A
large part of one wall was taken up by a mirror going from floor to
ceiling and at least eight feet wide. The young man was suspended
spread-eagle from a steel frame positioned no more than five feet from
the mirror. It was more than a little shocking to see his own naked,
hairless body strung up like that, as was the sight of his slowly
swelling balls already turning dark red from the beatings they had
taken. Embarrassed he saw that a thin stream of cum mixed with what was
probably blood, ran down the inside of his thigh. Looking away he took
in the rest of the room. The opposite wall was taken up by a frightening
array of straps, gag, whips and other implements of torture. In the far
corner, opposite a very heavy looking door, stood a small, very small,
cage made from criss-crossing quarter inch steel bars welded together.
The young man had no illusion as to who would occupy that cage. In front
of the cage stood a TV connected to some kind of player.

That was it. Small, stark and utterly frightening.

The predator had given his prey plenty of time to take in his new home
and had enjoyed greatly the play of emotions on his face, but now it was
time to move on. First he fetched a collar; narrow and made from steel
reinforced white leather, he put it around the young man's neck and
locked it in place with a padlock. The click made by the padlock as is
locked made the young man twitch involuntarily. Next came a pair of very
special gloves. Made from thick white leather, they were completely
without fingers and very small. They too were locked on using padlocks
and had the effect of turning the young man's hands into small white
cone shapes and rendering them utterly useless. Finally he placed a pair
of white stiletto booties on the young man's feet. They felt like they
were much too small, but more importantly they had very thin, six inch
shiny metal stiletto heels. They were zipped up the inside of his ankle
and both the zips and the boots themselves were secured with a yet
another set of padlocks, making it impossible to take them off without a
key.

The young man was horrified. What was being done to him? The evil man
had declared him to be a homosexual slave boy, but what was this
feminine footwear about? He opened his mouth to ask, but stopped when he
saw the look on the face of the man who had caught him. The predator,
having silenced his property with a stern look, released the young man's
feet and allowed him to stand again, his arms still bound. To make
matters easier for himself, he then tied a thin strap around the young
man's legs right above his knees. Next he released his prey's arms only
to handcuff them together in front of him. Balancing precariously with
tied legs and new and difficult footwear, the new slave boi didn't even
put up a token fight as the predator padlocked his handcuffs to his
collar, so that his hands were now held uselessly right beneath his
face.

Standing very unsteadily in his new and painful boots, the young man
listened in disbelief as the evil man addressed him: "Never forget that
you are a slave - MY slave - and that I rule every second of your
pathetic existence". The young swallowed hard at this, but wisely said
nothing. "As my slave you will always - always - wear high heeled shoes
or boots, even when bathing or sleeping", the predator continued. "You
will address me as "Daddy" always, beginning and ending every sentence
with that address and you will never ever speak without permission.
Understood?" Seeing no other alternatives the young replied: "Yes". The
blow came so fast that the young man didn't even see it coming. The
predator slapped his face, very hard. So hard that the young man was
thrown off his feet and into the wall before landing on the cold, hard
floor. "Stupid shit!" the predator shouted, "Say it right, you useless
slave shit!" The young man looked uncomprehendingly at the predator,
unable to understand his transgression. He tried to understand: "Please,
I.." he didn't get any further than that before the next blow landed on
his upturned face: "Stupid bitch!" the man yelled, "Say it right boi! Do
you understand?" The young man didn't and he tried - and failed - three
more times before the predator instructed him again and he finally, in a
very small and tear choked voice managed: "Daddy, yes Daddy". The
predator responded by standing him up, caressing his cheek and praising
him: "Good boi", he said soothingly and continued: "You will be a good
and obedient slave boi from now on, won't you boi?" The young man felt
an absurd wave of pleasure at the man's praise and felt an entirely
genuine, if very tentative and timid, smile on his face as he replied:
"Daddy, yes Daddy". As the evil man again praised him and again the
young man felt an absurd sense of pride at this.

The predator then explained to his newly caught slave that he would now
practice walking in his new footwear. He also explained that he demanded
perfection in all things including the manner in which his slave boi
walked in heels. Nothing less than the sexy swaying of a seasoned whore
would be accepted. The young man didn't know what that meant, but he was
sure that he wouldn't be unable to live up to the expectations. This,
however, he kept to himself. It was better just getting beaten for not
performing, than being beaten up for not performing and for objecting.
Soon his legs had been released and he stumbled clumsily along on his
new heels in the confines of the dungeon, soon screaming as well as
multiple blows from a bamboo cane landed on his back, ass and legs
because the man was dissatisfied with his performance.

It went on for hours until the young man had been reduced to a heap of
flesh covered in angry red welts, sobbing helplessly: "Daddy, please
Daddy" unable to stop his pathetic begging. The predator finally stopped
and knelt next to his victim. "Useless bitch boi", he spat as he lifted
the young man's head up from the floor by his hair. He lifted the young
man's head up until their faces were level and them he kissed his victim
deeply. He stood his sobbing and confused victim up and continued the
kissing, now supplemented by and gentle caresses concentrated on the
young man's ass and crotch. The switch from utter brutality to utter
gentleness caught the young man completely off guard and much to his
surprise he found himself responding to the man's advances. Timidly,
yes, but he nonetheless responded, something which would shame him
endlessly as he lay in his tiny cage later.

The kissing and fondling continued until the young man was semi hard,
something which took a surprisingly short time. The shame welled up in
him as he felt this, but the evil man's skilled hands kept him semi
hard. The young man was then forced to kneel on the floor, his face and
bound hands pressed to the cold concrete, as the predator lubed up his
ass and entered him from behind, raping him again. As before it was a
very vigorous violation, shaking the young man around like a rag doll,
but while fucking him the predator also continued manipulating the young
man's cock, managing to keep him at half mast throughout the vicious
rape. The feeling of being violated was no less this time, but it was
mixed with the very unwelcome sensation of moderate pleasure coming from
his crotch, a sensation which burned the young man's sense of self,
undermining his existing personality - just as the predator intended.

When he had shot his load into his victim, the predator turned him
around and kissed him again, this time pressing himself through the lips
of a crying and sobbing young man who was helpless to prevent the awful
things he was being subjected to. This done, he pushed his victim into
the cage and locked the door. The cage was so small that the young man
could neither stretch out nor sit up, but was forced to lie with his
upper body against his folded legs. Although the bars were closer
together here, the bottom of the cage was also made up of bars making it
a very, very uncomfortable place to be for any period of time.

Once the cage was locked on his victim, the predator turned the TV in
front of the cage and left the sobbing victim trapped in front of a TV
showing an endless parade of gay S&M porno movies; slave boys being
tied, beaten and fucked. Not all of the movies were professionally made.
In fact most seemed to be recorded in various private dungeons and the
predator featured in several. They all featured brutal men beating and
fucking begging, screaming, sniveling, groveling or sobbing male slaves,
most in heels or otherwise feminized. A common feature, one which
frightened the young man badly as he noticed, was how the slave always
ended up not only submitting abjectly, but actually cuming as they were
brutally beaten and fucked. That he might end up like that scared him
worse than almost anything else.

As the hours passed and he was able to put a tiny bit of distance
between himself and the fact that he had been raped by another man, the
young man began thinking about escape. He tried wriggling and struggling
out of his bonds and tried pressing on the bars of the cage as well as
the door, but after hours of painful sweaty activity, he hadn't even
managed to get even a tiny bit of slack in the gloves imprisoning his
hands. And these were the least severe of all his bindings. Getting out
of his current situation seemed all but impossible. He would have to
think of another way, perhaps immobilizing the evil man and the getting
out with the help of his keys. At least that way he'd start outside the
cage.

Chapter 2: Proper initial conditioning of the boi
Once again he was sitting broken and crying in his cage, his body
covered in welts, blood leaking out of his mouth and cum leaking out of
his ass and onto and into his white stilettos boots. His hands were
still inside the white leather mittens and were still locked to his
collar. None of his bindings had been off since the day of his capture
and neither had his boots. And he had no idea how long ago that had
been. He thought he smelled badly of sweat and old cum as the only
cleanings he got were the incessant shavings and latherings with hair
removal crème, neither of which seemed to be able to remove the smell of
fearful sweat and cum which he thought clung to him.

The man had just finished yet another training session by punishing him
for his inept performance and for his previous infractions. This time he
had not been beaten, but one more of his teeth had been removed, leaving
him only with a few teeth in the back of his mouth with which to chew
his food. Not that he needed to chew his food these days, as it was all
liquid or almost liquid. He would probably be getting very thin were it
not for the fact that the man forced food into him, demanding that he
eat everything poured into him.

The man had begun removing his teeth as punishment as a result of the
young man's one and only escape attempt. Some time after his capture he
had realized that his bonds were not coming off and that his only chance
of immobilizing the man and escaping, lay in attacking his genitals.
First he had tried kicking the man's balls, something which the predator
had dodged with ridiculous ease after which he had caned the young until
he passed out. That only left biting his cock during blowjob training as
an option, but when he had finally gathered courage for the attack, it
seemed like the man had just been waiting for it and in no time at all
he was tied down, screaming for mercy as the man prepared to remove his
teeth. None had of course been forthcoming, but the predator had, to the
young man's surprise considering his otherwise completely unbridled
brutality, not removed all of them. The reason for this soon became
apparent as teeth extraction became his new favorite punishment for
serious transgressions. For every inept performance or other
transgression, he would pull out one of the young man's teeth. That and
he would of course whip him as well. The young man actually getting
pretty good at walking in heels, almost reaching the level of perfection
required by the predator, but he still had trouble kneeling, squatting
and getting up with sufficient grace to satisfy the evil man. The young
man had no doubt that soon all of his teeth would be gone, leaving his
mouth a smooth and inviting hole for the man to invade with his
supremely aggressive cock.

When the evil man had removed the first of his teeth it had loomed very,
very large in his mind, almost devastating him with the enormity of the
violation. But lately this had faded more than a little. The reasons
were simple and scary. The first was the obvious question: What method
of punishment would replace tooth extraction? The young man had a few,
very unpleasant ideas and they scared him very, very badly. The second
reason that tooth extraction was loosing it power to frighten and
degrade him, was that a few other things were degrading and humiliating
him even worse; one things in particular: He had noticed how he was
getting disturbingly good at performing like a complete slut for the
predator. Not only when it came to proper movements and walk, but also
in how he responded to the man's praise and to his kissing and fondling.
It was as if he now craved approval from the man and not only that. He
found himself responding with a shameful sense of pride when the man
looked at his exposed and swaying ass and legs with open and undisguised
lust. He found himself almost squeaking "Daddy, yes Daddy" to the man's
orders, vocally submitting to his captor. He was also loosing his
disgust with providing blowjobs. His first blowjobs, even after most of
his teeth had been pulled, had ended with him retching and spitting,
provoking yet more punishment. But now he swallowed almost without
disgust and found himself trying vey hard to perform satisfactorily and
not only for fear of punishment. He found himself thinking, almost
subconsciously but not completely so, how nice it would be to please the
man he now almost always thought of as "Daddy".

But the primary reason, the reason he was doing all those other shameful
and disgusting things, was that he found himself enjoying the man's
brutal fuckings. The most frequent activity in the tiny dungeon was the
young man being released from the cage, having his hands released from
the collar (but not from the mittens) and strung up spread-eagle in
front of the mirror. The predator then usually spent some time kissing
and fondling his slave before entering him from behind and subjecting
him to one of his outrageously vigorous fucks. The young man was
invariably reduced to a fuck puppet bouncing and jerking around at the
end of the man's invading cock. But as he was being jerked around, the
evil man always manipulated the young man's cock with true expertise.
The first many times this happened, the young man either failed to cum
or only came after a very long time. Not so anymore. The young man had
reached the stage where the evil man's touch could make him cum whenever
the evil man wished. When he had first reached this stage the predator
made the young man's screaming orgasms coincide with his own, but lately
he had used his own amazing stamina to make the young man cum almost
instantly and then use the remaining time to make him hard and needy
again. Then they came simultaneously.

In short the young man, to his intense shame and embarrassment, found
himself liking some of what the evil man was doing to him. Before coming
to the dungeon he had never had a homosexual thought in his life and now
his heterosexual dreams and experiences were beginning to fade and be
replaced by homosexual ones. His steamy nights with his English teacher
and his principal were fading, being replaced by the first involuntary
orgasm the evil man had forced him to have and the first time he came
with the man in his ass. The memory of his principal's soft lips was
nearly gone, replaced by the predator's demanding and invading kisses
and the gentle kisses he had placed on the inside of his English
teacher's thighs were gone, substituted by the first time he had
successfully deepthroated Daddy. He now watched the endless gay porn
playing as he sat in his cage with interest and something amounting to
arousal and not disgust.

The young man had no idea how long the man had held him captive. The
harsh fluorescent lights were always on and even though the dungeon was
tiny, it seemingly had a system of double doors, because he was never
able to see what was outside. Sleeping in the cage, tied up and cramped
up and naked under the harsh lights only amplified the sense of loosing
time. He tried to be realistic about it and thought that perhaps he had
been captive for a month or a month and a half. He arrived at this in
part by trying to count the number of times the man had fucked him and
estimating how many times a day he would be able to this. Counting the
number of fucks had not only been difficult, but mentally extremely
painful but in the end he had managed what he thought was a realistic
number. He had also tried factoring in that he would probably estimate
time as being much longer when he was confined as he was, than he would
estimate it when he was free.

In fact he had been captive for almost six months. The predator had used
his many years of experience and had managed to fuck with his captive's
mind completely and utterly. Once the slave's last teeth were gone he
reckoned that the young man would be very close to being a boi, that he
would almost accept his status. Already he felt him leaning into his
caressing and kissing and not only was he no longer disobedient at all,
he was beginning to be actively submissive and super obedient. Although
the young man himself probably hadn't noticed yet, the evil man had
noticed how he recently had begun closing his eyes during blowjobs, his
cheeks sucking in and his face assuming a state of relaxed enjoyment as
he moved his lips and tongue with ever increasing expertise. In the end
they all came to love their captor. The predator had had many slaves, at
times up to four at the same time, and when he was done conditioning
them they would invariably be willing to do anything for him. Anything
at all. When he sold them, as he always did, they sobbed and cried, but
all went willingly because he ordered them to. This boi would too when
the time came. Three more transgressions would mean the last of his
teeth were gone and then it would almost be time to take him out of the
dungeon for the first time.

His last tooth gone a few days, the young man was taken out of his cage
for yet another fucking. He offered no resistance whatsoever as the
predator first tied his legs wide in front of the mirror and then
released his mitten imprisoned hands from the collar only to secure them
wide to the frame. The young man, very soon the boi, stood there looking
in the mirror at the predator behind him, waiting for his captor's next
move. The evil man made no move at first, standing instead watching the
young man intensely. Unable to look his captor in the eye, the young man
instead looked at himself and after a short while he saw himself. For
the first time in months he really saw himself. The sight was shocking.
The creature in the mirror bore little resemblance to the young man
brought into the dungeon. The creature in the mirror had long, filthy
and matted hair (full of dried cum), but a clean and utterly smooth
body. His arms were very, very thin, almost completely devoid of muscle
tone and his legs were also much more slender than one would expect from
a young, healthy man of nineteen. The collar, the mittens and the white
stiletto boots made him look somehow feminine and submissive far beyond
what his bonds managed to do, but this was nothing compared to the look
on the creature's face: Lips moist and full, mouth open as if waiting
eagerly for a kiss. Or a cock. And the creature's own cock cried out his
submission: From a perfectly smooth and hairless crotch it stood out in
a proud and nearly throbbing erection.

The creature in mirror was not a man, not even a young one. The creature
in the mirror was a submissive slave boi and even the young man could
see it clearly. He could no longer hide in his mind behind his capture
and the predator's torture. He was now unmistakably Daddy's boi bitch.
The realization made him whimper in defeat and, much too his later
embarrassment, look to Daddy for help. And this Daddy did help - after a
fashion. Leaning in over his boi's shoulder, one hand cupping his ass
and the other gently, ever so gently, holding the embarrassingly erect
cock, he whispered in his property's ear: "Submit to me. Embrace it. You
are that horny little bitch boi in the mirror. You don't want freedom
and a life with women. You crave brutal domination and most of all you
crave cock; you need a cock to please, to suck and to welcome into your
oh-so receptive faggoty ass". The young man whimpered loudly and as the
predator told him he didn't want women, but brutal men and he began
crying silently, defeated.

But the predator continued: "Why sad? You are lucky to know who you are
and what you need. Most people don't. Ever. But you know that you are a
submissive little faggot; a bitch boi craving cock domination. Embrace
it. Submit to me now". As he spoke he caressed the young man's ass and
legs and began stroking the boi's rock hard cock ever so gently. The
young man's sobbing abruptly shifted to a sharp intake of breath as his
body stiffened in response to the brutal man's touch. Independently of
the touching, and surprisingly, the thought that he really was a
submissive little bitch boi craving domination and brutal fuckings and
that he should submit to the man occurred. Right behind this thought
came the more realistic thought asking if he really had a choice. There
was no indication whatsoever that he'd be able to escape the man as
things looked now, whereas things might change if he did submit. Perhaps
the evil man would actually let him leave the dungeon. After this cold
and hard reasoning came another thought, shamefully powerful, telling
him that by submitting he would almost certainly have more sex with the
man and when the predator again asked him: "Submit to me now", he moaned
his reply: "Daddy, yes Daddy. Daddy, I submit to you Daddy. Daddy,
please make me your boi Daddy" when what he really wanted to say - no
scream out - was: "Fuck me you bastard! Fuck me until I bleed!"

The predator, experienced as he was, had already read these emotions on
the boi's face and in response he entered his willing ass as he began
stroking his cock very, very vigorously. So vigorously in fact that the
very surprised boi came, and came hard, only a minute after the
predator's fucking had begun. Surprised and embarrassed he opened his
mouth to apologize when the predator, who had started softly, whispered:
"Hush baby, accept who you are and enjoy it". When the evil man finally
came, the boi thought that the fuck had probably been a record of some
sort. He was completely out of breath, covered in sweat and he couldn't
remember ever having had so good sex. The predator had made him cum not
once or twice, but three times, leaving his cock raw and overworked and
so very, very good. He couldn't help himself but moan as Daddy withdrew
his cock: "Daddy, thank you Daddy". The words came not because he was
ordered or felt he had to, but because he actually felt grateful for the
fuck. As usual the shame came right on heels of this; the acute
embarrassment at being forced into being a homo slave boi, but for once
he didn't dwell on it but instead elected to enjoy the feeling of being
helplessly bound and so very well fucked. A voice crying out in the back
of his mind that this was wrong, while Daddy's cum leaked out of him,
went ignored as his body relaxed.

He hadn't noticed Daddy leaving the dungeon, but he did hear and see him
enter it once more. He held a small plastic bottle in one hand, but that
seemed to be all he had fetched from the outside.

Daddy walked over to his boi, kissed him deeply and then released his
legs, letting him stand with his arms still secured to the frame. Then
he released the boi's hands, allowing him to drop them passively to his
side. But then he surprised the boi by removing the mittens holding his
hands captive. The boi could hardly believe it and remained completely
passive, although he did so more from surprise than from submissiveness.
His hands and fingers were very stiff from the longs months of
inactivity and they had acquired a pale and unhealthy color. The skin
was slightly spongy and soft, his nails were very, very long and had
wrapped themselves around his fingertips. And his hands smelled very
bad. Daddy ordered the boi to flex his fingers. This turned out to be
both difficult and painful, his joins creaking and the dexterity of the
joints being more like that of an eighty year old. He felt suddenly
panicky, fearing that the condition might be permanent, but again
amazingly Daddy stopped his worries by grabbing him gently by the nape
of his neck and forcing himself into his boi's mouth as he kissed him
deeply. And for the first time the boi was able to wrap his arms around
his owner. The feeling was overwhelming, flooding his emotions
completely and when it stopped and he stood passively by as Daddy fixed
his hands, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the cruel man.

The boi's mind still circled around escape and the enormous violations
he had been subjected to, but now these thought and emotions were mixed
with other and far softer emotions. Having his nails clipped and filed
and his hands washed gently by the brutal and evil man who had grabbed
him, almost made him love the predator he was now calling "Daddy". This
state wasn't improved by the fact that he now openly, even admitting it
to himself, lusted after the man. Daddy, the evil and brutal rapist who
had held him captive for months, had tortured him worse than anything he
had imagined and who had even removed his teeth for goodness sake, he
was also the man, the human even, which he had lusted after the most
ever. Just standing there, a round of vigorous sex not even half an hour
away, made the boi wish for Daddy's big fat cock in his mouth or even
better, in his ass. For the first time the boi really realized that
Daddy, the evil rapist, had actually succeeded in turning him into a
homosexual!

The realization startled him, shocked him even, even though it had been
a long time coming. He had after all enjoyed the last many, many fucks
Daddy had given him. The realization also served to remove the soft glow
he had been seeing the evil man in. "Daddy" was an evil and vicious
rapist, a brutal criminal who preyed on young men. The young man almost
rebelled right then and there, but he stopped himself. His hands were
useless and the man would be prepared and he had not only the techniques
but the weapons with which to defend himself. The young man stopped his
escape attempt even before it began.

Daddy had moved on to first cut his nails, then wash and dry his hands,
after which he rubbed them with a sweet smelling crème; an action which
once again filled the boi with conflicting emotions. It just felt so
nice and after all the brutality he had been subjected to the caring
behavior made him grateful and soft. Once again the desire to be allowed
suck Daddy's cock crept back into his mind. This time he caught them
early, but the image and imagined taste of Daddy jism on his tongue
lingered.

The predator then took his boi's hand and led him over to a small table.
Seeing himself in mirror, being led just like a guy would lead his girl,
embarrassed the boi very, very much but as Daddy laid his hand on his
ass he had to admit to himself that it was also somewhat sexy, maybe
even romantic. As his cock twitched the boi once again battled with his
feelings, balancing between actively hating the evil bastard and loving
Daddy. The predator simply smiled and lifted his property up as easily
as if he had been a feather pillow and deposited him on a narrow table.
The boi was again struck by just how strong he was and how hard it would
be to escape such a man; strong, smart, brutal and meticulous. Leaving
the boi on the table, his stilettoed feet dangling a foot above the
floor, the evil man fetched two rubber balls, about the size of tennis
balls. He gave them to the boi and said: "Your hands need training now
that you've ruined them with your stupid obstinacy." The boi
acknowledged this blatantly false and manipulative statement with a
demure and submissive "Daddy, yes Daddy" and the predator continued:
"Squeeze these balls until I say otherwise". The boi again acknowledged
and began training his joints.

It was far harder than he would have thought. Not only had he lost
almost all muscles in the fingers, but also his joints were stiff and
even his coordination was off. He found that he had to focus all of his
attention on his hands to perform as ordered.

But as his boots were removed by Daddy he was unable to stop and stare
at the sorry state of his feet. Like his hands they were an unhealthy
shade of pale and smelled extremely bad. The skin looked almost ready to
crack or fall off at the slightest touch. The nails had grown wildly,
mostly downwards, some of them into his flesh. He had suspected that
this had been the case since the pain in his feet had been bad for a
long time, but since the pain had persisted all his time in the dungeon
and since the pain in his feet was preferable by far to the other kinds
of pain Daddy could induce, he had chosen to live with this particular
pain. Now, as he saw the damage, he whimpered with fear at the pain he
knew was coming. "Squeeze the balls boi", Daddy ordered gently and the
boi instantly began squeezing as ordered but kept staring at his damaged
feet completely transfixed.

As it turned out Daddy was brilliant at repairing his feet and after a
couple of hours of intense, and at times very painful, work the boi's
feet looked and felt almost like regular feet. The boi had stopped
squeezing the rubber balls a long time ago as his hands had tired very
quickly and so completely that his fingers could hardly manage even the
weakest twitching. Done, Daddy lifted his boi off the table and as he
set him down on the floor barefoot, he said: "I wish to demonstrate
something to you boi". The boi was very confused as to what Daddy might
mean by this, but before he could ask his feet touched the ground and
Daddy let him go. Standing in tip-toes was almost alright, being only
moderately painful as his toes, squeezed together in a wedge shape by
the stiletto boots, now moved away from the positions they were
accustomed to. But as his feet carried more and more weight the boi had
to shift his balance as one always does when touching down and as such
had to move his feet. The surprise was far worse than the pain and he
fell, completely unprepared for what had happened. He couldn't stand
flatfooted! Sharps stabs of pain had come from both the arches of his
feet and from his Achilles tendons, now far too short to put his heels
down. He landed hard on the concrete floor, unable even to soften the
blow properly with his useless hands. Looking uncomprehendingly up at
Daddy, the evil man bent down and told him: "You have now lost the
ability to wear anything but high heels. In order to walk you must now
wear a minimum of five inch heels, although to be even remotely
comfortable the heel must be six inches. You are now permanently a
stilettoed bitch. My stilettoed bitch boi". Daddy let the last sentence
hang and the boi knew he had to respond or suffer the consequences. So
although the shock at this new and humiliating discovery was immense, he
smiled somewhat sickly and replied: "Daddy yes Daddy. Daddy, thank you
Daddy".

Satisfied at this, the predator made his boi crawl into the center of
the dungeon, to a drain in the floor. Here he removed the collar of his
property, now standing on all fours. The boi looked up at his owner with
large scared eyes, suddenly frightened at what might be next for him.

Smiling at his property Daddy produced a water hose and the plastic
bottle he had brought into the dungeon. It turned out to be nothing more
frightening than a shampoo bottle and to the boi's immense surprise and
joy his owner proceeded to wash him. Shampooing his hair had to be
repeated four times, but each time was more luxurious than the last and
by the time he was dried off the boi was nearly crying with gratitude.
His whole body, including hair, hands and feet were clean, dry and free
for the first time since he had been imprisoned and the sensation was
just overwhelming. That the man who had subjected him to the brutalities
was the same as the one who had cleaned him didn't matter to the boi. He
just looked at Daddy, eyes almost brimming with tears of gratitude as he
sat on the floor, unable to use his hands in a meaningful way and unable
to stand up. Daddy smiled at his property and fetched a pair of stiletto
sandals which he gave to the boi. They were white and naturally had six
inch heels, but holding his feet were only four ultra thin leather
straps so that the skin of his feet could now breathe for the first time
in months. As he was helped up by the evil man, standing free and clean
he did burst into tears and thanked his brutal captor: "Daddy, thank you
Daddy", he sobbed on and on. Daddy stopped him by lifting up his chin,
placing a finger on his lips and whispering: "Hush baby. You are mine
and if you behave and obey I will treat you as you deserve, providing
the cock domination you require". He then bent down and kissed his
property deeply. In the boi's mind there were no conflicting emotions.
He wanted Daddy and he wanted him badly. He got what he wished for.
Daddy first spent considerable time kissing, caressing and fondling his
increasingly excited boi. Had Daddy not signaled that words were banned,
he would have been begging long before Daddy made him stand on all fours
and entered him from behind. His whole body felt electric with sexual
excitement and in spite of having been vigorously fucked already he came
the instant Daddy's hand closed around his own supremely excitable cock.
The orgasm was out of this world, making him scream with pleasure as his
body trembled and twitched, his eyes rolling back into his head. And
when he came down from his high, Daddy was still fucking him with long
thrusts, banishing all thoughts of rape and capture, instead filling him
with dream images of him gratefully sucking the great man's cock with
gratitude. Oh God how he loved it! How he loved being taken by this
brutal and evil rapist bastard!

After Daddy had left the boi sat, or rather crouched, in his cage
looking at gay porn movies as usual. Unlike before he now only wore his
stiletto sandals and a thin, white collar. He didn't really see what was
on the TV screen. Instead his mind was filled with the soft and pleasant
memories of being fucked by Daddy, while cum slowly ran out of his well
fucked ass. As per Daddy's orders he sat squeezing the rubber balls to
build up his hands strength and flexibility again.

The lights never went out of the dungeon and the gay porn movies running
on the TV were only halted when Daddy was inside attending to his
property, so the boi had no way of telling time. He slept some and woke
up to a new movie, this one featuring a very attractive woman castrating
a slave boi, who disturbingly looked just like himself. Unbelievably the
woman, dressed in a full body black rubber suit and wearing seven inch
stilettos, was performing the castration while the bound and desperately
begging slave boi was being fucked by one brutal master after another.
She took her sweet time washing and cleaning the boi's balls as she
explained what was going to happen to him. The boi tried objecting,
tried pleading, but not only did she not care what he said, his words
were garbled or worse by the procession of cocks pounding his ass and
mouth as the woman worked. The cleaning was followed by a very, very
lengthy round of testicles torture, which made the boi faint several
times. Finally, his balls reduced to grotesquely swollen and misshapen
lumps of flesh, pierced several times by heavy duty needles, the boi
broke and begged her to castrate him, begged her to take his balls. He
did so crying and with unswallowed cum running down his chin while a
huge black guy had most of his forearm up his ass. Compared to the
torture which had gone before, the castration was almost tame. The evil
woman bound a metal wire very, very tightly around the base of his
scrotum. She then let the desperate slave alone with his many "lovers",
letting him "enjoy" the attention while his testicles turned first blue
then black and withered as he watched helplessly. After a long while the
movie showed him crawl across a concrete floor, fucked nearly to the
point of fainting and with cum running freely out of his broken ass,
over to the evil woman. He begged her, crying hopelessly for her to
please remove his balls, calling her Goddess as she used a pair of
garden shears to cut them off and a red-hot iron to cauterize the wound.
The movie ended with the crying boi taking his Goddess' waste with open
mouth as she took a shit in her property's mouth.

The movie had lasted many hours as it was essentially unedited and had
shown the full torture session. The boi had been unable to stop watching
it. Not only was it a new one (he had seen many of the movies running on
the TV hundreds of times), but the boi in the movie had looked so much
like himself. Scaring him badly was the fact that his own cock had been
stiff for most if not all of the movie. Had it not been for the fact
that Daddy had expressly forbidden him to touch himself, he would have
been masturbating like mad throughout the whole movie. In every shot he
had pictured himself being treated like that, had imagined what it would
be like to be fisted while being castrated. And he had loved the
fantasy. This thought finally snapped him out of his current infatuation
with Daddy. He had to escape! The evil rapist was fucking his mind,
breaking him and turning him into something he didn't want to be! It
didn't matter that he now loved being a homosexual plaything to another
man. While not in itself wrong, his position as it was now was wrong.
Deeply wrong. He was being forced to behave like that, forced to be
homosexual and even if he did like it, which he was no longer able to
deny, the coercion was wrong. He had to escape. Otherwise there was
probably a good chance that he would end up like the slave in the movie.

Chapter 3: Crafting the boi
Escape, however, was a long way off. He wasn't even out of the cage, let
alone the dungeon yet. But several hours later, when Daddy came again,
the boi did get a chance to get out of not only the cage but also the
dungeon.

Releasing his captive from the dungeon, Daddy allowed the boi to stand
unbound in the dungeon. He looked gorgeous, every bit the sexy little
slave bitch he really was. His body was slender and lithe, a pale from
the many months in captivity, but otherwise fine and smooth except for a
few remaining welts and bruises - just as one would expect on a slave
boi. He stood wearing only his white stilettos sandals, his posture
perfect, passive and patiently waiting for the evil rapist's next
command. Moving behind his property, cupping his ass gently on the way,
Daddy bent forward and kissed the boi's neck, making him sigh with
genuine passion. However much he desired to escape, the brutal man's
attention, when gentle, made him hard and needy. The predator fondled
his prey's ass and legs for some time while kissing him gently and then
reached around and secured a collar on his slave. It was thin and white
and made from very soft leather. From a ring on the collar hung a small
heart shaped pendant engraved with the words: "Daddy's bitch". The
predator had briefly shown his prey these words before securing it and
the boi blushed deeply as his most embarrassing erection refused to go
away.

Then Daddy took his property's hand with the words "Come along now slut"
and led his slave to the door of the dungeon. The evil man then opened
it and led his slave, who was completely stunned, out the first of two
doors. As the door to the dungeon closed behind, he found himself in a
very cramped room between the inner and outer door to the dungeon. He
hadn't been out of the dungeon, hadn't even been within six feet of the
door, during his entire stay in the dungeon and now he was simply
walking out with the evil man who had captured him leading the way. The
situation was doing disturbing things to his mind. He found himself on
the verge of asking, no begging, Daddy to take him back into the
dungeon, to let him remain as a captive. A small sheen of sweat broke
out on his forehead. He was terrified of what was going to happen;
terrified of being out in the open and ultimately terrified of being
free again even if that surely wasn't going to happen as long as Daddy
was in charge.

As the outer door opened and Daddy was about to drag him out he almost
didn't move his feet, but at the every last moment the voice of reason,
the very last part of the young man who had been forced into the dungeon
that remained, spoke, urging him out so that he might at least have the
chance of escaping.

The boi stumbled out behind his owner and found himself in a strange
room as the dungeon door closed behind him. It took him a little while
to see that he was in fact standing in a walk-in closet, filled with
stylish men's clothing; the obviously expensive, but very discrete
clothes of a millionaire with good taste. He turned to look at the
dungeon door only to see... nothing. There was nothing to see. He looked
at a blank wall adorned with a large tie rack and a narrow shelf,
presently unoccupied. There was nothing, nothing at all which revealed
that a dungeon resided behind the wall. Turning around he caught a smile
on Daddy's face, but had no time to reflect further as the evil rapist
led him out of the walk-in closet and into the biggest bedroom he had
ever seen. Not only was it huge; it was also one of the most inviting
rooms he had ever been in, a room you wanted to spend hours and days in.
Seemingly reading his mind, Daddy said: "Don't worry boi. You'll be
spending many, many days and nights in here, working that gorgeous ass
of yours to please me". As Daddy led him out of the bedroom the boi
found himself blushing as his very indiscrete erection told the whole
world how he felt.

Once out of the bedroom Daddy gave his property a tour of where the boi
would spend his time. It was easily the most luxurious place he had ever
been in, every single tiny item chosen with the greatest care to project
an air of refined and discrete luxury. And it worked.

But considering the bedroom he had just been in, this didn't really
surprise the boi much. What did surprise him immensely was the location.
If he had been asked to guess where he was while incarcerated in the
dungeon, he would have guessed that he was being held in a farmhouse, a
large secluded house or perhaps even a mansion of sorts. This was,
however, not the case. Daddy's home was an apartment. He was being held
captive in a penthouse apartment. At first his heart jumper with
excitement: He would be able to signal from help! Someone would be able
to see him and come to his aid!

These thoughts ran through his mind as Daddy finished the tour and held
his property's hand as they both stood in the apartment's spacious
kitchen. Again Daddy read his prey's mind: "Did you look properly around
you bitch?" he asked. "We are in the topmost apartment of the city's
highest building, more than twenty stories higher than the second
highest, which is three miles away". The boi's heart sank. "And the
windows are coated with a special reflective surface, so no one can see
in," he continued, "and finally there are no outside porches and such,
so give up you feeble hopes of getting help boi. You are mine and you
will remain so for as long as I still want you. Understood?" Defeated
the boi meekly replied: "Daddy, yes Daddy".

Seeing his property defeated like that got the rapist going and soon the
boi was thrown across a table as the predator fucked his ass
rhythmically with long hard strokes. At first he didn't even let his
hand go near the moaning boi's crotch, but well into the fuck he grabbed
the boi's rock hard member firmly and began stroking. At first this only
served to increase the boi's moaning (his movements were trained and
near perfect as required by his Master and as such independent of his
own passion) but as the fuck went on and on while Daddy kept his boi on
the edge, the moaning turned to passionate screaming as the slave's eyes
eventually rolled back in their sockets and he actually began to drool
with lust. Somehow being almost free and fucked while unbound increased
his passion immensely and when he finally came it was with a half
strangled, high pitched whine all the while his whole body convulsed.

As Daddy let him drop to the floor a voice in his mind informed him
matter-of-factly that this was easily the best fuck of his life, rape or
no rape. This thought, the thought that he had come to like being raped,
once again sent a shock through his system, albeit a small one as he was
simply too comfortably enveloped in the aftershocks of his momentous
orgasm.

Of course he was not allowed to rest much and Daddy's nudging his ribs
informed him that it as time to get up. "Getting up" turned out to be
positioning himself on his knees so that he could first clean Daddy's
cock and then the floor and cupboard door he had soiled with his cum.
Having Daddy's cock in his mouth actually made him whimper softly with
gratitude as he looked thankfully up at the evil man who was turning him
into something he wasn't supposed to be.

The next two weeks passed in a strange daze of sex and relative freedom.
Daddy instructed him in how he wanted him to behave and what he expected
him to do. To his considerable surprise Daddy primarily, perhaps even
exclusively, wanted to use him as a soft and pliable sex toy for what
almost amounted to vanilla sex. Bondage came into it, but wasn't a
prominent feature and as long as he behaved he wasn't beaten or
otherwise abused - at all. Every time Daddy entered his now eagerly
awaiting ass he was allowed to cum, often several times in a row as his
sexual stamina was nowhere near that of Daddy.

He was even allowed clothing. Daddy favored very, very tight jeans and
turtleneck sweaters for his slave. His feet had been restored to health
- except for the fact that he was unable to stand flatfooted - so Daddy
supplied him with new shoes. Usually he wore either Oxfords with a seven
inch steel heel or ankle high boots with seven and a half inch heels;
both types in usually in either black or white, although he did
sometimes wear red shoes. As for underwear he always wore very skimpy
white silk panties; his ass always occupied either by Daddy cock or some
sort of plug. Shamefully, as the thoughts of escape became weaker and
weaker in his state of unexpected comfort, he had to admit that being
plugged was a sensation he had come to not only like, but love. Had his
jeans been loose enough for any kind of freedom he would probably have
run around with a more or less permanent erection. As it was he could
get almost, but not completely erect because his super tight jeans.
Almost erect, almost.

Standing in front of full length mirror in Daddy's bedroom, checking if
he looked pleasing enough for Daddy he realized with some surprise that
he had acquired a genuine pleasure in his new image. He liked looking at
himself as he was now, even if he was just playing along to get a chance
of escape. The boi in the mirror had a tight turtleneck sweater made
from thin, white Cashmere clinging to his thin, but supple and lithe,
upper body. His shapely, if narrow, ass and killer legs were covered in
skintight light blue denim of a quality the boi hadn't even known
existed. On his feet was a pair of black Oxfords, completing the
expensive, but sluttish look. His face was soft from the constant
application of expensive crèmes and his lips slightly parted, moist and
receptive looking. His hair was his only complaint; long and badly kept
from his long months in the dungeon, it had been gathered in a ponytail,
but still looked shabby, especially compared to the rest.

That, however, was about to change. As the boi stood preening in front
of the mirror, Daddy walked into the room holding what looked like a bag
made from black leather. A big bag. But as he, without even a hint of
resistance allowed Daddy to put it on him, found out it was not a bag.
Rather it was a very tight and completely escape-proof straightjacket.
Soon he was hugging himself very tightly, his arms also strapped to the
jacket in front, as a broad and sturdy strap was pulled under his crotch
and fastened so that there was no way out of the jacket. The boi stood
uncomprehending, bound hard for the first time in weeks, but not daring
to ask why. The chance for that passed soon enough as Daddy filled his
mouth with the most enormous penis gag imaginable. Had the boi had any
teeth left at all, they would surely have been knocked out by the very
laborious process of getting it into his mouth. As Daddy strapped it in
place the boi had to fight off a wave of nausea as the short, fat rubber
cock touched the back of his throat. He looked at Daddy with large
scared and questioning eyes, but instead of an explanation, Daddy
plugged his ears and pulled a very tight and very thick rubber hood over
his face, open only at the nostrils. Very nervous now, the boi felt
something being fastened around his neck after which a quick and very
firm tug told him it was time to go.

Scared almost to the point of pissing himself, the blind, deaf,
speechless and utterly helpless boi stumbled after the manipulating
rapist, only his long and painful lessons on walking perfectly in heels,
keeping him from falling. He felt strangely thankful for the many
painful and humiliating hours Daddy had made him train to be perfect in
heels whatever the situation.

He had no idea where they were going, but he did feel that he was in an
elevator going down for along time, which was of course not surprising
given the location of Daddy's apartment. Getting out of the elevator, he
was walked a short distance before being picked up unceremoniously and
placed in what he assumed to be a car seat. He had assumed right he
noticed as the car set in motion, a ride so smooth that even tied up as
he was, the extreme luxury of the car he was in was clearly apparent. He
had no idea for how long he rode in the car, but when it stopped and he
was helped out he found that during the ride, which was taking him
unknown and potentially unpleasant places, his primary emotion had not
been fear but lust. Pressing painfully against the super tight jeans and
the leather strap of the straightjacket was his erection. He had not
thought of escape even once, not for a second. As he stumbled along to
the tug of his only connection to the outside world, the leash, he once
again became very alarmed at his own docility, his almost complete
acceptance of his slave status. Once again he wowed to do everything to
escape, to get away from the evil man who was doing these unnatural and
wicked and ... oh-so sensuous and wonderful things to him. A small voice
in his mind cried out that he had already lost, that Daddy had made his
mark deeply, permanently and indelibly on him. He tried to ignore it,
but the obvious fact that he followed without resistance, that he had
allowed himself to get tied up like this without the slightest bit of
resistance and that his cock became stiff because of it, spoke a harsh
and brutal truth which could not be ignored.

These thoughts of subjugation had muddled his perception of time, so he
had no idea how long he had been led when large, firm hands halted him.
Confused, relieved and more than a little apprehensive, he felt his hood
being removed, then his gag and finally his straightjacket. Once his
eyes had adjusted to the light, he saw the room he was in. It looked a
lot like a beauty parlor and in fact that was just what it was. A table
with a well lit mirror occupied one wall and in front of it a chair was
placed; a sturdy chair looking like it had been lifted from a dentist's
office and with straps for ankle and wrists. There were only two people
in the room, Daddy and another obviously dominant man. The boi was
unsure of how to react until a vicious slap from Daddy told him to kneel
and kiss the other man's boots. Once he had done this, he remained
kneeling while the two men talked. The boi heard little or none of what
the discussed as he was preoccupied with keeping his head down and
inflicting as little pain on himself as possible. After a short while
Daddy stood him up and forced him to look into his eyes. He then uttered
a single word: "Obey".

The other man then removed what looked like a very small TV remote from
his pocket and pressed two or three buttons. He then put the remote away
and clapped his hands twice. The clapping was instantly followed by the
sound of chains being dragged. Only now did the boi notice two slaves
who had been chained very, very restrictively, one on each side of the
table with the mirror.

Both were completely covered in black rubber. Completely covered. From
head to toe they were covered in thick, black and shiny rubber. Their
waists were constricted by impossibly tight corsets and on their feet
were laceless, zipperless knee-high boots with seven inch pencil thin
black heels. Their hands were covered in ultrathin black rubber and over
their eyes were dark, almost black, reflective lenses, integrated into
their hoods. Their hoods were only open at the nostrils and at their
mouths, but tiny black rubber tubes had been inserted into their
nostrils so that not even there skin could be glimpsed. One of them was
gagged with something which ended in a large rubber flap over his lower
face while the other was gagged with a ring gag opening his mouth to an
outrageous degree. The rubber was so tight that they had to be
completely hairless underneath.

They were chained in a manner so restrictive that the boi could hardly
believe it. Cuffs or collars with chains attached to them were around
their ankles, right below their knees, around their wrists, right above
their elbows, around their necks and around their waists. The chains all
led to a number of holes in the floor and wall so that when they were
pulled back the slaves would assume a special position. That position
was face down on the floor, arms stretched straight out to either side,
while their legs were also stretched straight out, but bent at the knee
at a ninety degree angle. In the floor was embedded a dildo standing
straight up so that the one who was only ring gagged would also have his
mouth filled when placed in this resting position. The boi hadn't
noticed, but when they lay down like this, their folded legs put them
close to the wall and from this wall a dildo pole came shooting out once
they were in position, impaling and pinning them even tighter in
position. But they had one final fixture, one final chain attachment,
which overshadowed the rest and which nearly made the boi scream with
fear. Their balls had been pierced so that a steel rod went through both
testicles and to the ends of this rod a chain was attached. Their cocks
were held in tiny metal tubes, preventing them from getting hard, but
the cock heads were only constricted by a single steel band, crossing
from one side of the tube to the other. The reason for this was to make
room for the very large ring piercing their cock heads. This ring was
attached to the same chain which was attached to the testicle piercing
rod. If the pulling on all the other chains would not control them,
pulling on that chain certainly would.

The boi was stunned, shocked and more than a little scared. Why was he
here? Was he going to be turned into a creature like those in front of
him? There was, however, no escape from whatever was going to happen and
so be instantly obeyed when Daddy ordered him to strip down to his
heels. With acute embarrassment he saw how both Daddy and the other man
noticed the slick of his excited juices in his fine silk panties. Soon
he stood at attention wearing only his black Oxfords with seven inch
steel heels, awaiting Daddy's command. While the boi had undressed,
Daddy had addressed the completely gagged slave, who curtseyed as a
signal of understanding and obedience. The two chained slaves now led
the boi, who remembered Daddy's admonishment to obey, over to the chair
and sat him down. A very long and very thick, black dildo protruded,
appropriately lubricated, from the seat and as his shapely ass was
slowly lowered onto the seat, a passionate moan escaped him and his
already hard cock began to twitch. The rubber slaves then strapped his
arms and legs to the chair so that his hands and feet were freely
accessible. The chair had no headrest, but a small pole did protrude
from the top and to this a strap was attached and this tied him by the
neck to the chair.

As Daddy and the other man left the two rubber slaves silently began to
work the boi over. The slave with the filled mouth began cutting the
boi's hair, while the one with the ring gag began to perform a complete
manicure and pedicure. The reason for this split and their different
gags soon became apparent as the slave who worked on the boi's hands and
feet slipped the boi's erect cock into his forcibly opened mouth and
began to suck it gently. The ring gagged rubber slave was a true expert.
Moaning loudly the boi completely forgot his surroundings as he was
slowly, ever so slowly, inexorably moved towards a truly amazing orgasm.
The boi managed to hold almost completely still as the two rubber
puppets worked on him, absorbed as he was in the amazing sensation of
truly expert blowjob. The slowness of it was exquisite torture and only
managed to heighten his arousal, making him forget everything else. The
approaching orgasm promised to be the best ever, even better than the
ones Daddy had given and the boi trembled with anticipation. But the
orgasm never came. Just as he felt it building to the point of no
return, the expert mouth came to a halt and let him hang. At first only
a whimper escaped him, but then he began thrusting with his hips as much
as he could, but it just wasn't enough to push him over the edge. The
manicuring rubber suck puppet kept working on his hands while keeping
him in his mouth and when the boi had come away from the edge somewhat
he resumed his blowjob. Again the boi approached and again the puppet
denied him an orgasm.

When Daddy returned a good while later he found a perfectly coiffed,
manicured and pedicured slave boi crying with frustration as the rubber
suck puppet continued to stimulate him and denying him an orgasm. The
boi, even in his desperate state, knew better than to beg for an orgasm,
but tried looking imploringly at his owner. Smiling gently down at his
hopeful property, Daddy instead took out his own member and soon the
boi, still tied to the chair and still being sucked, had Daddy's cock in
his mouth blowing him as best he knew while looking imploringly up at
Daddy. But other than holding his boi's head gently, he did nothing to
relieve him of his plight. Instead he simply enjoyed the extra energy
true desperation injected into his property's performance.

After a long, long time the evil rapist shot his load into his crying
slave boi's mouth. He had been stimulated and denied during the whole
blowjob and his desperation was now complete. His young and energetic
cock, by now trained to cum several times a day, strained and twitched
as he was continually denied the orgasm he so craved. Still crying with
unfulfilled lust he cleaned Daddy's cock after which he was released
from the chair. His needy cock at full mast Daddy then inserted a very
large dildo in his ass and told him to get dressed. Once dressed Daddy
quickly gagged and hooded him and tied him up in the same super
restrictive straightjacket as before. Soon he sat in the car again,
blind and speechless and unable to do anything about his raging hard-on.
He had never been more horny and frustrated in his life and although he
tried to will himself to think about something else, escape for example,
all he could think about was how much he hoped Daddy would fuck him
senseless once they got back.

He got his wish, although not to the extent he had hoped for. Only just
inside the door of the giant penthouse apartment, the boi felt how Daddy
loosened the straight jacket strap going under his crotch. Then his
pants were pulled down followed by the slow and sensuous sliding of his
silk panties being pulled down by Daddy's hands, which caressed his ass
and legs in the process. From behind his gag and his hood the boi moaned
with lust as his member, now unhindered, sprang to life in the hope that
Daddy would touch him. Daddy certainly touched him.

Pushing his property to the floor and entering him from behind, Daddy
took his boi's cock in hand and gently, ever so gently began
masturbating him while fucking his ass. The sensation was outrageous.
Being bound, controlled and fucked by Daddy was something he had tried
many, many times, so many times in fact that he had been helplessly
conditioned to love it in spite of himself. But being cocooned so
tightly in hood and straight jacket was a new sensation which somehow
focused his being on the sensation of being owned and fucked and as a
result he found himself very, very aroused and so very close to cuming.

Only he didn't. Daddy knew his body and reactions better than himself
and every time he came close, he would deny his property the orgasm he
needed so badly. And Daddy's legendary stamina didn't deny itself either
as the fuck went on and on, almost endlessly stimulating him. It was a
constant and vicious cycle of stimulation and denial and soon he lost
all sense of time inside his cocoon. He screamed out his pleasure and
frustration, his hate of Daddy and his reluctant but very deep love for
him as well. He screamed in defiance and in utter defeat, screamed until
Daddy came and he, the boi, ran out of steam, of force, of will to
resist.

As Daddy pulled out of his ass and left him, his cum flooding down his
boi's leg not log after, the boi had still not been allowed to cum and
as he lay there on abandoned on the floor, gagged and hooded, tied in a
straight jacket, his jeans around his ankles as cum ran out of his
defeated ass and his twitching erection no longer signaled pride but
defeat, the boi sobbed, beaten, defeated, lost and objectified by and
evil rapist - an evil rapist whom the boi now wished would come back and
fuck him again, to prove that he still wanted him. He needed Daddy. He
loved Daddy.

After a while Daddy came back and released his boi, ordering him to
clean up and dress in fresh new clothes already laid out for him. To the
unspoken question foremost in the boi's mind he said: "No cuming. You
can let water touch your cock, but your hands can't touch the cock". The
boi whimpered a broken: "Daddy, yes Daddy", and minced into the
bathroom. Standing in the shower wearing his "bathing heels", a pair of
transparent plastic mules with two inch platforms and eight inch heels,
his cock twitched helplessly, his erection seemingly unable to go away.
He considered touching himself, but knowing that he was bound to be
found out and punished severely for his transgression stopped him.
Shamefully, not even the thought of being punished made his erection go
away.

Half an hour later he once again stood in front of the mirror admiring
his reflection - in spite of himself, of course. His legs were held in
white jeans so tight they looked like they had been painted on and
ending about four inches above his ankles. On his feet was a pair of red
Oxfords with Daddy's standard seven inch steel heel. His torso was clad
in a tight, black Cashmere turtleneck sweater. His hair had been cut
short, but very feminine and combined with his now soft face and moist
lips and perfectly manicured hands he no longer looked masculine in any
way. Except maybe for the insistent, half strangled bulge in his crotch.
Nor did he look feminine as such. He was androgynous in the real sense
of the word. Those who wanted to see him as female would do so and those
who wanted to see him as a feminized male would.

Mincing into the living room as Daddy called for him, the boi felt his
need with every step being denied and restrained. He felt sexy,
attractive and desirable as he approached Daddy, who sat on a couch
watching a football game on TV.

The evil rapist who had taken over his life then turned to look at his
property, his eyes taking in every square inch of his boi, weighing
every single ounce of owned fuck flesh. Those eyes. The boi felt like
gasping, but it came out a whimper. A whimper of lust and more
surprisingly of love. The back of his mind screaming in protest and
defeat, he felt himself grow all warm, felt his cheeks flush and his
heart fluttering. Unable to hold the man's eye, he looked down, cheeks
blushing and rapid breath moving through lightly parted lips, moist and
ready to serve. He desperately wanted Daddy's attention, wanted him to
touch him and kiss him. He wanted Daddy to take him, sweep him off his
feet and make him his property.

So caught up in the emotion had he been that he hadn't noticed that
Daddy now stood right in front of him. The rapist's hand took the jaw of
his victim and made him look up and saw the love in his eyes, saw the
desperate hope that he'd treat him like the sweet little boi in love he
was. Daddy didn't disappoint. Pinning the boi's arms to his sides with
strong hands he bent down and kissed his property deeply, so very
deeply. There was no escape from his embrace, nor did the boi want to.
For the first time in months he felt happy. Daddy wanted him! Daddy
found him attractive enough to kiss deeply! All the voices of dissent
which had been bouncing around in his abused mind, quieted down, their
volume shrinking until only the silence of utter owned contentment
remained. As the evil rapists hands began roaming his defenseless body,
defenseless this time by choice, the boi felt increasingly at ease, at
home in the role as feminized house boi. When Daddy broke off the kiss,
leaving his property slightly disoriented but very happy, he knew
exactly what to do when ordered: "Show your gratitude boi". With the
happiest of "Daddy, yes Daddy. Daddy, thank you Daddy". He sank to his
knees, smiling in grateful anticipation up at the vicious man who now
controlled every little detail of his life. With hands shaking from
anticipation of the feast to come, he extracted Daddy's member and
gratefully let his smooth and toothless mouth envelop it. Looking up at
his owner he then proceeded to suck Daddy the best he knew how. Although
still very much in need of attention to his own cock, he nonetheless
derived real pleasure in the blowjob. The salty and slightly acrid taste
of Daddy's piss and the hard, but warmly pulsating organic feel of his
domineering cock filling his mouth completely was almost enough to make
him cum. Almost.

After Daddy had cum and he had swallowed all there was to swallow, he
cleaned the dominant factor in his life and put it back in Daddy's
pants. Despite the boi's pleading looks, Daddy paid no attention to his
property's needy cock. He simply took him by the hand and led him to the
couch. The evil rapist sat down and made the boi kneel pretty on the
floor in front of him, arms down his side, chest slightly out and head
up in rapt attention. He then began to explain, for the first time in
all the many months he had kept the boi captive, what he wanted and
expected from him: Not surprisingly the boi was to be Daddy's supremely
obedient and docile pet. His only function in life was to please Daddy;
nothing else. The boi lived only for this. The boi was never, ever under
any circumstances to think or act for himself. All choices - all of
them, no matter how small or trivial - had to be made by Daddy. Daddy
would determine what he did every minute of every day of his life; what
he wore, when he wore it, what he ate, when he used the bathroom, when
and if he came, what he said and when he said it and even what he
thought. Daddy would decide how he walked, how he held his head and how
his smile looked. Daddy would decide which hand the boi used and for
what things he used it.

Everything, absolutely everything the boi did was governed directly by
one thing alone: Daddy's choice. Given a choice of any kind - even one
involving saving his own life! - the boi was to wait for Daddy's
decision. No matter how long it took, how painful or debilitating the
consequences of waiting were the boi had to wait for Daddy's decision.
The boi was nothing but a pretty toy and toys are played with; not
independent beings or objects. The boi was to be Daddy pretty little
plaything, the plaything Daddy used and the plaything Daddy eventually
showed to the world. The boi might not be the slave Daddy gave the most
attention - Daddy made no secret of the fact that he'd use multiple
slaves while owning the boi - but the boi should be very, very grateful
for his position, since the slave getting the most attention might not
be very lucky at all.

As Daddy explained this and the full implications began to be apparent
to him, the boi not only got scared again and the voice telling him to
escape got louder as well, but also he was filled with a sense of
immense wonder. How was this going to work? Every little movement he
made was, at some level at least, the result of a decision. How was
Daddy going to control that? Was he going to try and control his mind,
for that was surely the only way for it to work?

As soon as he had asked himself that question, he knew that was how it
was going to be done. Daddy was going to strive to control every thought
in his head, to turn him into a complete puppet, a toy without any kind
of will and perhaps even without the ability to reason anymore. The idea
sent a helpless shudder down his spine and even as part of him just
wanted Daddy's undivided attention, wanted to be held, owned, fucked and
abused by Daddy, the small, rational part of him that remained screamed
out again. He had to escape! Sure he should play along (getting all the
wonderful sexual attention Daddy would give him as bonus, use that
attention for his own pleasure), but the purpose of his playing along
should always be working to get the chance of escape. Hadn't Daddy
mentioned that he was going to take his pet outside?

As these thought flew through the boi's mind, his face of course
reflected the turmoil inside him. Daddy didn't hesitate for even a
fraction of a second. A vicious slap landed on the side of the boi's
face, sending him sprawling on the floor. "No thinking!" the evil
kidnapping molester screamed at him, "I decide everything for you now!
Everything!" This was followed up with a barrage of slaps to the boi's
face. Tearfully he tried apologizing, but this only provoked a new
hailstorm of a beating; this too was thinking and acting for himself and
as such had to be punished. Soon the boi had been reduced to a crying
bunch of tear soaked rags on the floor.

It was too much for the rapist and in an instant he had ripped the
pretty white jeans off his prey's ass and was fucking him with an
intensity that made the boi gasp for breath. Deliberately leaving the
boi's needy cock alone, he whispered in his ear that had the boi only
followed instruction, he would now be allowed to cum. It was too much
for the boi and even though he was being jerked around like the fuck
puppet he really was, he began crying hard again. Not only did he need
cuming and not only was the true desperation and hopelessness of his
situation dawning on him, but he was also being denied Daddy's
affection, the orgasm which would signal Daddy's forgiveness as well as
Daddy's desire for the boi. Daddy was signaling in the most powerful way
imaginable for the boi, that he didn't want the boi when behaving as he
just had. And just as bad: he couldn't apologize, he couldn't beg for
forgiveness. Doing so would again show independent thought and action;
the very things Daddy had forbidden.

Having shot his load into the sobbing fuck flesh's ass, Daddy withdrew
leaving a completely passive boi in a crying heap on the floor. He
looked genuinely miserable and it was clear that he wanted to beg
forgiveness - badly. That he needed not only Daddy's approval but his
desire, that the boi had already been conditioned to love Daddy. Being
allowed to beg forgiveness would do the boi a world of good. So Daddy
did not allow him to do so. Let the little shit stew, make him feel
worse before releasing his emotions, was Daddy's working theory and it
had worked brilliantly in the past.

For now he simply bent down and grabbed the boi's hair and dragged him
by it into the bedroom. Here he used two pairs of handcuffs to hogtie
the boi, his pretty white jeans still around his ankles. Then he opened
the boi's panty drawer and stuffed the boi's completely full of them.
Daddy counted fifteen pairs before he sealed the panties in using most
of a roll of duct tape for the seal. As a final humiliation, he pulled a
pair of very small, pink panties down over the boi's head. He then
directed his attention at his scrotum and by simply twisting the boi's
panties once around the boi's semi erect member, he created the effect
of a well placed cock ring, keeping the humiliated boi's cock erect.
Removing his belt he said: "I control all of you: every thought and
every action. You have no will; your only purpose is to please me and
you will do this by being my pretty little puppet." Then he placed
twenty well placed blows of the belt on the boi's genitals, leaving him
fighting desperately not to throw up and drown in his own vomit behind
the humiliating (but oh-so sexy panty gag).

The boi spent the night hogtied on the floor. Every few hours the
predator would fuck his ass, but otherwise he was left to stew. He was
miserable and wanted to get back into Daddy's good graces very badly.
But it was four days before he was allowed to do so.

These four days were spent as a brutal initiation - and it was only the
initiation as much more severe control was to come - to just how much
control Daddy demanded.

First he untied his boi and undressed him as the boi lay passive,
staring silently in fear at his kidnapper. Then Daddy directed every
single little step of his bathroom visit, from how he walked to the
toilet, how he sat down, when he released his bladder and when he
released his bowels. He dictated his mouth wash (no teeth to brush), his
shower and how he toweled dry. Every tiny little sign of independent
activity, whether it was thought or action, was punished by beatings to
the point where both his face and body was covered in bruises. The
severity of the beatings was such that the boi now took every breath in
constant fear of transgressing against Daddy's rules; a fear so strong
that he found himself unable to mask his thoughts and feelings in any
way and thus exposing himself even more.

Daddy not only laid out all of his clothes, as he had done the whole
time, but directed how and when he dressed. The boi's brutal, abusing
violator then dictated every step he took; how he took it, how many he
took and when he did it.

It had been overwhelming when Daddy described it to him and the reality
of it was overpowering, smothering in its utter completeness and
totality. He found that he didn't even have the freedom to let a tiny,
independent thought enter his mind. If he did, his overwhelming fear of
his ruthless assailant would cause it to be revealed on his face and a
beating would follow. After just half a day out of the hogtie, he looked
and felt like a walking bruise and four times he had suffered the
indignity - a following punishment - of loosing bladder control from
fear. After three days he reached the beginning phases of the state
Daddy wanted him in. He was now so scared of making a mistake that he
didn't dare move even a fraction of an inch without specific instruction
as to when and how. He didn't dare think for himself for fear of being
caught doing so. Instead he filled his idle mind with pleasant images of
Daddy fucking him or Daddy's cock pushing his eager lips aside for a
supremely pleasant blowjob for both parties.

Thus the boi found himself the doll Daddy had wanted him to be out of
sheer terror. Terror and guilt too. Guilt because Daddy still withheld
any signs of affection; an affection which had come to mean far more
than he would ever have thought.

On the fourth day Daddy finally forgave him and used the occasion to
finally clear the boi's mind almost completely of rebellious thoughts of
any kind. The boi had just toweled himself dry as per Daddy's
instructions and stood in the bedroom, wearing only a pair of red
Oxfords with Daddy's usual stiletto heels. He stood there waiting for
the next command, his mind this time filled by the pleasant thought of
Daddy's giant cock hammering away in his ass. The boi's cock was stiff,
ready and needy as it had been for days now.

The boi couldn't see Daddy, but he could hear him moving about right
behind him. Then suddenly his hands were on his ass; still at first, but
then gently caressing his buttocks and then moving on the rest of his
body. He felt how Daddy stood behind him, pressing his body against his
ass he caressed his property, Daddy's insistent erection pressing
against his ass and lower back. Oh God how he loved it! He so wanted to
tell Daddy that he loved it, that he loved him, but his conditioning was
too strong and he began to feel miserable that Daddy would still not
forgive him for serving him so badly. Then the words came, whispered
over his shoulder, soft moist breath in his ear: "Lay your head back and
moan". The boi could have cried with joy! He laid his head back in pure
pleasure and relief and moaned just as he had longed to do. Soft lips
kissed his neck and the boi nearly lost his footing from pure passion:
"Moan "Daddy, I love you Daddy" - loudly", the voice ordered him and he
almost sang with gratitude: "Daddy, I love you Daddy!" The ruthless
abuser then reached around and grabbed his cock, so far content just to
hold it and kissing his prey's neck he again ordered his property to say
that he loved his kidnapper. The real joy in his words was unmistakable.

Then he moved to his front, revealing his own complete nakedness to a
passionate boi who whose obvious desire for his abuser was clearly
visible on his face despite his efforts to look passive as instructed.
"Smile," he said, "let every fiber in your body show how much you love
me". The boi looked like he could cry from gratitude. Daddy then kissed
his property long and hard, leaving an utterly happy boi in love who had
been told to show that he loved Daddy, which he certainly did by now,
his original personality - and even his original sexuality - destroyed
by ruthless mind games and almost unbelievable brutality from a
supremely violent, calculating and experienced rapist and kidnapper.

The boi was then ordered to stand on all fours and cry as he repeated:
"Daddy, I am so sorry that I disappointed you Daddy. Daddy, I am so
sorry Daddy. Daddy, please forgive me Daddy. Daddy, please do with me as
you please Daddy. Daddy, you know best Daddy and I know nothing Daddy.
Daddy, I am nothing Daddy. Daddy, please make me yours Daddy". He
repeated these phrases over and over again, the tears streaming down his
face both a result of an order and so very real.

Finally Daddy made him stop, got down on his knees behind him and pushed
a well lubricated cock up the boi's ass. Oh God, it was fantastic!
Ordered to do so, he threw back his head and moaned as he moved with the
fuck as ordered. When Daddy's hand again found his cock, he emitted the
girlish keen of pleasure he had been ordered to, supremely happy that
this was happening. To cap it off he was allowed to cum as he screamed
out the sentence Daddy had instructed him to scream until told to stop:
"Daddy, I love you Daddy!"

As he was allowed to lay in a puddle of his own cum, Daddy's load
leaking out of his owned ass he naturally filled his head with a
regulation thought of how much he loved his possessor and pleasant
images of Daddy's cock in his toothless, moist and utterly willing
mouth.

Chapter 4: Finishing touches; polishing the created boi
For the next
months the brutal training continued, the boi frequently making tiny
independent movements or showing just a little bit of independent
thought and being punished for it. Looking in the mirror when ordered to
he saw not the slim, sexy and more than a little feminine boi which
Daddy had taken out of the dungeon, but a beaten and bruised bitch boi,
abused beyond the point of breaking. He longed to be Daddy's perfect
little plaything, but even that thought showed up on his face as
independent and cause a severe beating. Every tiny little move, even
when Daddy was nowhere around to be seen, was seemingly monitored and
even the tiniest infraction punished with such ferocity that his fear of
Daddy was a huge omnipresent thing, always filling his mind.

In the end it was this fear, dutifully assisted by his love of his
abuser, which turned him into Daddy's creation. After about three months
- not that he had any sense of time left - he found that he was
completely unable to make any kind of independently thought, movement,
sound, facial expression or indeed any kind of body control. Daddy's
control over his body had reached the point where he was no longer able
to even loose bladder control from fear. Daddy had to ORDER him to piss
himself from terror! The control was just as complete when it came to
his mind. His mind had been abused to the point where it had only two
operating modes: either it worked to carry out a specific set of orders
or it was in standby mode, running a reel of images of how to please
Daddy across his damaged mind.

As the boi reached perfection in his training Daddy set about testing
his creation. The first test was simple, yet supremely demanding, and
came about a month after Daddy deemed he had reached an acceptable level
of performance. Daddy simply let the boi run out of instructions
standing in the middle of the kitchen.

He was no longer the bruised and abused boi to look at he had been for
so long, but once again a slim, sexy and elegantly feminine boi. On his
upper body was a tight white T-shirt, his legs and ass were compressed
nicely by a pair of light blue jeans so tight Daddy had no trouble at
all seeing the boi's semi permanent erection. On his feet was a pair of
slutty white Oxfords with seven inch metal heels.

Out of instructions the boi was unable to move at all. The evil
kidnapper's brutal conditioning had made the boi physically unable to
move. He simply stood still in the middle of the kitchen; eyes softly
unfocused, moist lips slightly parted, hands down his side and one
stilettoed foot slightly in front of the other. Behind his eyes the
pleasing image of Daddy's cock sliding in and out of his throat was all
he thought about. Instead of letting the boi think diffusely about
serving Daddy well, he had been ordered to think only about the image of
Daddy deepthroating him.

The orders had been given just after breakfast and Daddy then went about
his business, seemingly paying no heed to the boi. For a few hours he
worked around the apartment, but then he had business to attend to and
left the building, only returning after eight in the evening.

The boi maintained his position the whole time, not moving even a
fraction of an inch. Daddy had instructed him long ago that when
standing still he had to try to move his feet inside his shoes - very
hard in small stilettos - so as to keep the blood pumping in his legs,
preventing fainting. Even after more than eight hours of standing
completely still, the same pleasant images of Daddy's cock filling his
throat still played in his mind. A very, very small part of his mind,
barely conscious now, still tried to rebel, but the conditioning, the
fear, was much, much stronger and it was never able to surface
completely.

The boi had needed to go to the toilet for several hours when Daddy got
home, but it wasn't until late in the evening when Daddy came into the
kitchen and told his boi to piss and shit as he stood there. Not even
changing facial expression, the boi then soiled himself. Standing in his
pretty clothes in the kitchen, he felt how a torrent of warm piss
drenched his jeans at the same time warm and smelly shit filled up the
seat of his pants. Then Daddy left to go off to bed, leaving the boi
standing in a puddle of piss, his stinking jeans rapidly cooling and the
shit slowly beginning to seep through his jeans. The boi stood
completely still as this happened, no longer even consciously aware of
the overpowering fear that kept him there, images of Daddy's cock in his
throat the only thing in his mind.

When morning came and Daddy came into the kitchen to eat, his property
hadn't moved at all. His eyes didn't even follow Daddy, but simply
stared - soft focus - into the distance as he awaited new orders. The
only order he got that morning was to once again to release his bladder.
Then Daddy left, returning late at night. Although exhausted and
dehydrated the boi had not moved an inch. His mind was still occupied by
the same images, but in back of it a new feeling had taken root. He felt
strangely free. Free from decisions and worries about what to do next.
Certainly it was ruled by enormous fear, but if he only let Daddy take
every tiny little decision he was free; completely free from all worry.
Daddy would take care of him, decide everything and all he had to do was
to submit completely and utterly, leaving his life to Daddy. And Daddy
had already taken it over by force, all that was left really was to
acknowledge it and act it out accordingly.

It wasn't until the late the day after, when the boi had stood still for
more than two and half day that Daddy ordered him to move again. The
first thing he was to do of course, was to drop to his knees and get a
drink first before blowing his owner. All of a sudden the images so
pleasantly displayed in his mind became real as Daddy pushed his cock
down the boi's throat. Ordered to do so, the boi let the thought that he
loved Daddy intensely enter his mind.

Once Daddy had dumped his load in his property's mouth, he issued a new
set of very detailed orders and soon the boi was kneeling on the kitchen
floor, now dressed only in his heels, his face buried in his soiled
jeans, eating the shit he had deposited there himself more than 24 hours
ago. The task was outrageously disgusting, but the boi carried it out
without the slightest hesitation, keeping the happy smile Daddy had
ordered there on his face.

Finally, when the task was done, Daddy took the exhausted boi out into
the bathroom and controlled every little movement of his puppet as he
washed himself inside out. The he took his tired, but happy and willing,
victim to bed. The boi wore only a pair black Oxfords when Daddy entered
him from behind. He might have been exhausted, but he still managed to
scream "Daddy, I love you Daddy!" as ordered until more than 5 minutes
after he had been allowed to cum. And he had meant every word. The boi
smiled the soft smiled he had been ordered to as he quickly fell asleep,
as instructed, under the silken covers next to his cruel owner.

After one more test, in which he had stood stock still in a very
uncomfortable position for 36 hours, Daddy put him through the final
test. This test also constituted the final conditioning, as it either
stamped the last, tiny traces of rebellion or brought then to the
surface to be dealt with.

Holding his owner's hand and following him to the door with a giddy and
happy facial expression Daddy had put on his face, but which also
accurately reflected how the boi felt, the boi felt content and at ease
being owned and controlled so completely. Kissing Daddy back as his
tongue violated his mouth felt entirely right and good and although they
of course were the result of a direct and explicit order, the boi meant
it when he said that he loved Daddy. Daddy was the only thing filling
his universe; not only did nothing else matter; nothing else existed.

Then Daddy left the apartment and on the way out he let the door close
behind him. Only it didn't close, not completely anyway. It was open
just a crack and through this crack the boi could hear Daddy walking to
the elevator and leaving. The boi had only been outside that door very
few times and he had never seen the place, always being bound and
blindfolded.

Since his orders had run out he was unable to move and he stood
positioned so that he looked directly at the open door. Somewhere in his
mind, far, far down and almost forgotten, a voice began to cry out for
him to run. This was the possibility he had been waiting for! Daddy was
away, the door was open and it was the only way out. He had to go! But
the voice was very, very weak and barely registered in his conscious
mind. It was just a tiny ripple on the completely smooth and utterly
inactive surface of his battered and violated mind. And then it was gone
altogether. Faced with the only possibility of escape he was ever going
to get, but conditioned with an iron fist to be unable to grasp that
chance, his much altered mind reacted the only way it could: it simply
erased the very last, tiny voice of opposition from itself. What was
left was exactly what the evil man owning him had set out to create: an
utterly passive mind, unable to do anything but obey; a mind cleaned of
even the tiniest bit of resistance; a mind who would need detailed
instructions for rest of its existence.

The young, handsome, independent and solidly heterosexual man who had
been kidnapped less than a year before, who was only just about to turn
nineteen, was now an utterly subjugated, solidly homosexual and feminine
bitch, completely unable to make even the smallest and simplest of
decisions and who was totally dependent on Daddy.

This was what awaited Daddy when he returned: the finished product of
his yearlong efforts, the utterly docile and compliant boi he had
created from scratch. Of course he already knew the result of the test.
The game was of course rigged and the cracked open door had been a trap,
never offering the boi even the slightest chance of escape. Cameras
monitored his every movement, his every facial expression even. Outside
the door was indeed an elevator leading to freedom, but the boi was
completely unable to operate it: it was private and only Daddy could
call it and only using his palm print. In Daddy briefcase lay the
instrument to be used had the boi taken the chance and tried to escape:
a thin steel wire for strangling him. Daddy's many years of experience
told him that if the boi was able to overcome his conditioning at this
point, he would always find ways to resist. If that was the case then he
found it better to just strangle them and get it over with. Daddy used
many feisty slaves for torture and rape; slaves kidnapped for their very
will to resist, but in his boi he wanted to opposite.

To celebrate that he had finished the conditioning of his property, he
had the boi undress until he stood naked in his expensive, but very
slutty, white heels. His cock was almost completely erect and Daddy
spotted some sticky moisture wetting its tip. It had been days since his
last orgasm and had his mind been able to consciously formulate such a
thought, he would have said that he was outrageously horny, his young
and fresh cock yearning for attention.

Daddy led his boi into the bedroom and had him stand in front of the
full length mirror there. Looking at his own smooth, feminine and
subjugated image in the mirror, Daddy told the boi what to think: that
he was pretty, that he was pretty property and that this was his one and
only function. He was Daddy's doll, he loved Daddy unconditionally and
his mind must always be filled this love and with the need to obey. As
Daddy made him think these things they instantly became real in his mind
and as Daddy's hands moved over him while he spoke, immense lust filled
his mind. Immense and nearly uncontrollable lust for Daddy; lust which
of course made him so horny that in the mirror he could actually see his
cock twitch helplessly for attention.

He then spoke Daddy's words, words which he naturally meant with all his
being: "Daddy I am your bitch boi Daddy. Daddy I love you Daddy. Daddy,
I am always horny for you Daddy. Daddy I am always wanting and needing
your wonderful attention Daddy". The boi's whole being was filled with
love and lust as the conditioning took further hold. The resistance
which had existed in his mind as now gone and with Daddy's help, the
conditioning reached new heights as the memories of life before Daddy's
dungeon began to not only fade, but disappear.

Then he spoke again, meaning every word Daddy put in his mouth and mind:
"Daddy, I will always be horny, every minute of every day I will be
horny for Daddy, but I will never cum Daddy. Daddy, my stiff little
cock, desperate for attention, will signal my desperate need for Daddy
by never cuming Daddy. Daddy, I will be unable to cum even if I am
stroked and touched Daddy. Daddy, I love you Daddy. Daddy, I will be
always horny and always desperate and never, ever fulfilled for you
Daddy. Daddy, I love you Daddy."

Looking at his sexy reflection in the mirror, Daddy's words accurately
and truthfully instructing him just how hopeless and desperate his love
for Daddy was going to manifest itself, the boi saw that his cock, the
source of so much physical pleasure was now forever useless, reduced to
a permanent torture tool; a tool for demonstrating obedience - and
nothing else.

The boi was not yet nineteen and had had his very last orgasm. Not only
that, but his cock had been turned into a permanent punishment, a
testament to his utter subjugation. Daddy had accomplished this without
the use of a chastity device; without anything else than brutal mental
conditioning. No chastity device would ever been needed. The
conditioning was so powerful that no amount of stimulation would be able
to make the boi cum, no matter the circumstances. The only thing which
might be able to trigger an orgasm from the boi, would be if Daddy told
him to cum - and Daddy was never going to do that. Never. Had his
violated mind been able to perform any kind of independent act, the boi
would have screamed and screamed.

Daddy was satisfied with his work and to further cement the boi's
conditioning, he continued to keep him in the state of complete and
utter dependence for a few weeks more; requiring explicit instructions
to move the slightest muscle. Nice as this complete dominance was, it
was impractical in the long run and so Daddy substituted it with
something more workable, but in reality no less restrictive and
dominating.

Substituting the control of every little act, thought and movement was a
series of outrageously specific instructions covering nearly all aspects
of the life the boi would lead. How he got out of bed, how many steps to
the bathroom and how these were to be taken, how he slipped his silk
panties off and how he masturbated to no use for half an hour in the
bathroom, how he cried because he was able to get hard but unable to cum
no matter what he did, what he was to think while he did it and so on.
It took a further four months, but in the end Daddy had a boi who was
able to operate seemingly somewhat independently of his owner, but who
in fact was being controlled in every little detail of these operations.
The boi was just as controlled as before, his mind still violated,
battered, secured and utterly subjugated by Daddy, but now Daddy had
imposed a new set of patterns which enabled him to move his property
even when he wasn't around. To the casual observer it looked like the
boi was independent, when he in fact wasn't even close to being so.

Chapter 5: Life as the boi
Having been with Daddy for more than a year now, the boi had also gotten
to know the extent of Daddy's brutality and just how truly evil he
really was. His mind might not be able to formulate it, but he had seen
it and what was more, Daddy had shown him on many occasions,
demonstrating just how lucky the boi was compared to the other captives
Daddy brought into his apartment.

While in the dungeon the boi had not seen a single other captive. This
turned out to have two distinct reasons: The first was that the boi
during this period had satisfied most of the evil rapist's need to
torture someone. The second was that the some of the more brutal and
final acts were carried out around the apartment as well. The boi had,
however, noticed one thing as Daddy had indeed pointed out to him: Once
a slave entered Daddy's apartment as a pain toy, he usually left in a
very, very sorry state.

The boi, now conditioned as Daddy's pretty little sex doll, handled most
if not all of the sexual contact with Daddy while some other poor slob
screamed and screamed as Daddy tortured him. Often the boi either stood
by, passively waiting for commands, or knelt in front of Daddy sucking
his cock while he did things like crush the balls of some poor sissy.
The boi took part in many such sessions now, but in the bedroom he got
all of Daddy's attention. Here Daddy was gentle and caring, kissing and
fondling his pretty little docile doll, touching his ever needy cock as
the boi cried because he couldn't cum.

Daddy began taking the boi outside. The first time it happened, the boi
had dressed that morning in ultra tight white jeans ending almost
mid-shin and a black, tight, body hugging Cashmere turtle neck sweater.
On his feet were elegant, if very slutty, shiny black pumps with six
inch heels, practically relaxation footwear for the heel addicted boi.
As ordered by Daddy the boi stood just inside the front door waiting
docilely, his mind filled with the exciting images of Daddy's cock
pulsing pleasantly in his mouth. The thought was pleasant enough, but
the accompanying physical sensation not quite as pleasant as his ever
needy cock had been pulled backwards between his legs, squashing his
balls as a special pair of panties held the genitals there no matter how
hard the cock tried to get. The visual effect was to create a nice and
smooth crotch and make the boi appear even more feminine.

In the boi's mouth was now a brand new set of rubber dentures; shiny
white and looking just like real teeth. Biting anything with them was
impossible and they made him lisp something awful, but Daddy thought the
effect sexy as it further humiliated the broken boi.

Finally Daddy came. With him he had a piece of black leather, which
turned out to be a Bolero jacket for the boi. Once on, Daddy took his
hand and led him out the front door. It was the first time he had gone
out the door unbound, ungagged and without a blindfold, but his mind was
so tightly controlled that this didn't cause any ripples in his smooth
and calm mind, completely devoid of activity not there by explicit
order.

After a ride down in Daddy's private elevator, Daddy ushered his slave
into his waiting limousine. The limo was unlike anything the boi had
ever experienced; a top of the line Maybach retrofitted for even more
extravagant luxury. It was driven by a female chauffeur, who sported an
evil glint in the eyes as she looked at the boi.

As they drove the boi looked only at Daddy and the thought that freedom
lay just outside the window never touched his mind, which was instead
filled the desire to suck Daddy's cock. His desire was soon fulfilled as
he was ordered to lean over and blow Daddy. The big, warm and handsome
tool in his mouth, the boi felt at home, taken care of; his mind
pleasantly blank.

The outing turned out to be visit with one of Daddy's old friends, the
director of a local, high end art gallery. Daddy's limo pulled up
alongside the curb in front of the gallery, located in one of the most
prestigious parts of the town; a place teeming with people coming to and
from the offices, shops and apartments in the center of town. As Daddy
helped his slave out onto the pavement the boi felt the first
independent emotion in many months: the fear of being spotted; caught.
Suddenly the boi was afraid that the people would see him for the boi he
was and not the female he appeared. The boi was scared that such an
exposure would embarrass Daddy and he didn't want that; oh no,
embarrassing Daddy would be very bad. Daddy spotted the emotion and
noted it with pleasure, never intending to punish it. He didn't want his
boi to be a robot; "merely" conditioned so hard he would never be able
to break free. The boi's reaction proved that the conditioning had
worked perfectly, since the obvious fear - seen easily by the little,
scared glances scanning for Daddy's facial reaction - told him that
rather than thinking of escape, the boi was thinking of pleasing him.
The little bitch would never be able to escape what he had now become.

Inside the gallery they were greeted by the owner. Or rather: Daddy was
greeted warmly while the boi was simply ignored. The gallery owner was a
small, wiry man with a casual, but obviously expensive designer suit and
a pair of designer glasses and a somewhat florid manner about him.
Trailing behind him was his secretary, a lady in her late fifties, who
looked neat and well groomed, almost prim and in excellent shape for her
age. In contrast to her boss she wore an impeccable grey business suit:
white shirt with a narrow black tie, a tight, grey jacket unable to hide
her sizable bosom, a pair of grey slacks accentuating her well shaped
ass and a pair of black boots with six inch heels. Her hair, black with
flecks of grey, was pulled into a tight bun and on her nose a pair of
pointed, steel rimmed glasses perched. Her lips were a tight and
unfriendly line and although she greeted Daddy with the utmost warmth
and courtesy, her face displayed nothing but disdain and contempt for
the boi.

The boi and the secretary followed Daddy and the gallery owner, staying
two steps behind them as they toured a small section of the gallery only
to end up in the gallery owner's private office. The secretary was
ordered to fetch coffee while the boi was ordered to undress and soon he
stood in heels only in front of the two men, who smiled predatorily at
him whenever they happened to look in his direction. At Daddy's command
he stood in the center of the floor, writhing, gyrating to music heard
by only him, performing an erotic dance for his owner. The boi's face
was flushed and his breathing hard as he enjoyed the attention of two
dominants. Daddy's complete control was - by training - intentionally
being slackened and a small measure of independent thoughts allowed to
roam in the boi's head. One of these was the ability to enjoy the
attention of other men there to dominate him.

The boi was doing his slow dance, his cock twitching slightly as the
secretary returned carrying a tray with coffee. The boi didn't miss a
single beat in his dance and neither did the secretary. She wordlessly
deposited the tray on the table and stood at attention right behind the
gallery owner. The two men talked for a while, ignoring the two others
completely. The secretary stood at attention while the boi danced,
seemingly forgotten by Daddy and the gallery owner.

After almost an hour the conversation stopped and Daddy ordered the boi
to stop, making him stand at attention too. Then the gallery owner
addressed the boi: "You really are a worthless bitch boi. Worthless, but
sexy". The boi blushed even more but displayed no other reaction. "I
usually tell all of your Master's slaves this little story and why
should you go without?" the gallery owner asked rhetorically. The man
then called his secretary over and told her to strip. In no time she
stood in her black high heeled boots only. Only the secretary wasn't a
woman but an extremely well shaped sissy. She was getting older now and
her tits were sagging somewhat, but you could still see that the
implants were sizable. Her body - although now showing the onset of age
- was thin and shapely and her cock was, when not tucked away between
her legs, an inescapably restrained thing. It was quite small now. Or
rather the boi thought it had to be small since the steel tube covering
completely was very small. The tube was held in place by two piercings
going through the shaft and a welded steel ring around the scrotum. Her
balls were very small and wrinkled and bore the marks of a thousand
hours of torture. The secretary stood passively by as her owner
explained: "The bitch here was once my math teacher back in high school.
A real pain in the ass, insisting on discipline and hard work in his
classroom. I was the spoiled, rich kid with a mother who loved to make
her lovers scream in pain. An only child to an indulgent single parent,
I got everything I wanted from her and she especially approved when I
told her that what I wanted to do to this little shit."

Then the gallery owner told the story of how he in the first year of
high school had abducted his math teacher and brought him home;
imprisoning him in the basement. Then he told how his mother had helped
him torture the poor, heterosexual man until he broke and became the
sissified, homosexual sissy bitch that stood naked in front of the boi.
But that was not all. The gallery owner had placed the chastity device
on his former math teacher's cock right after letting her out of the
basement for the first time and it had stayed on ever since. That meant
that she had gone without an orgasm for thirty-seven years. She had gone
thirty-seven years without even seeing her cock.

She had become so well trained that any chance of her trying to escape
was gone long ago. Now she served as his trusted secretary, living in a
tiny basement room in his mansion and attending to his every need with
the utmost devotion. For this devotion she was occasionally rewarded and
the reward was the opportunity to punish other little slave shits for
her Master's entertainment.

The gallery owner told the secretary to get started and as she prepared
herself he made a phone call. Not long after two absolutely beautiful
young women came into the office. Both were in their late twenties with
long, long legs, ample asses and huge tits. They were dressed in grey
business suits that fooled no one; every single curve was exposed to its
advantage and their feet were clad in shiny, black high heeled pumps.
One was a redhead, her hair expertly coiffed into a wild looking hairdo
that reached her shoulders. The other was a blonde, with long, straight
hair reaching almost down to her ass. Both had luscious lips, moist and
parted, their eyes were wide and frightened and both looked like they
were both scared to death and more than a little excited.

At the gallery owner's subtle command both stripped and soon stood
displaying the magnificent bodies, hairless, smooth and lithe and
surgically sculpted to perfection. Both of course sported imprisoned
members like the secretary and as she began, both removed their dentures
to provide better blowjobs.

As the two young and supple sissies started to provide service to Daddy
and the gallery owner, the secretary started to punish the boi. First
she made him sit down on his heels, using rubber tubing to strap his
thighs to his lower legs. Then she again used rubber tubing to tie his
wrists and elbows together. Making the boi very nervous, she then tied a
thin black rope around his neck and led the remainder of the rope down
his back, under his ass and out between his legs. Smiling briefly and
mirthlessly before starting, she then pulled the rope. The pressure on
his windpipe becoming unbearable, he had no option but to arch further
and further back until his head touched the ground; almost at the point
where his neck was perpendicular to the ground. Had he been able to
breathe deeply enough, he would have screamed in pain and discomfort but
as it was he simply gasped desperately for air, his body strummed harder
than a bow. Tying the rope off on a leg of the gallery owner's heavy
desk, the secretary knelt down in front of the boi, placing her knees so
that she kept the boi from sliding and thus easing his position. At a
nod from the gallery owner the secretary then took the bois erect an
oh-so needy cock in her able hands and began to manipulate him. Soon her
supremely skilled lips followed and in a matter of minutes the boi tried
keening with frustration at his complete and utter inability to cum.

After about half an hour the secretary began to look a little flustered,
confused at her inability to make the boi cum. Daddy and her owner
exchanged a grin and then the gallery owner said: "Make it cum, you
useless cow". After a dutiful "Master, yes Master" from the aging sissy
slave, she redoubled her efforts. Using both hands as well as her mouth
she launched an all out attack on the poor frustrated boi. One hand
pumped and massaged his cock as she sucked, while the other penetrated
his ass, working together with his plug to make him cum. Nothing worked;
the boi was too well conditioned to cum, no matter how skilled and
energetic her attention.

The boi was lost in a haze of exquisite torture, his mind and body
consumed with the conflicting needs and desires. He needed to cum so
badly that nothing else mattered even slightly; even his outrageously
uncomfortable position and his near-inability to breathe disappeared as
his cock strained to shoot the fantastic amount of cum hoarded in his
overworked balls. But his conditioning was stronger, his need to obey
Daddy superseding everything else.

After another half hour the gallery owner stopped his desperately
working slave: "You have an hour to make him cum, you useless piece of
sissy ass". The secretary, sweating and obviously at loss as to why she
was unable to make the boi cum, answered: "Master, yes Master. Then the
gallery owner continued: "If you fail to make him shoot his load I will
tie up this slut here", he indicated the gorgeous blonde sitting in his
lap, "and we will all watch as you destroy her balls". The blonde gave
almost jumped out of his lap as she emitted a small scream, while the
secretary began crying and begging softly: "Master, no please no Master.
Master punish me instead Master. Master do anything you like to me
Master. Master but please Master, spare her Master. Master, please
Master. Master, PLEASE Master". Both Daddy and the gallery owner laughed
and the gallery owner answered her plea: "I know you are sweet on her,
you little cunt, but that will only serve to motivate you better as you
perform your duties. Now get going!"

As the secretary, still crying, turned to her impossible task, the
blonde sissy, sat absolutely still in the cruel bastard's lap, her eyes
and mouth already forming round O's of pure terror. She had sat there as
the two men discussed this particular sport and she, unlike the
secretary, knew that the boi would almost certainly be unable to cum no
matter what she did. So now the blonde sissy effectively sat waiting to
be castrated by the only person she had had any real feelings for since
being captured by the evil man who was fondling her fake tits at that
very moment, hungrily watching her mounting desperation and panic as the
clock ticked down to her castration. Her conditioning prevented her from
trying to escape, something which would have been impossible anyway, but
panicked as she was she found herself unable to move. She simply sat
stiff as a board in the gallery owner's lap as she watched the secretary
throwing everything she had into making the boi cum. And getting
nowhere.

The boi was no longer able to hear sounds apart from his own labored
breathing; unable to see anything other than a strange mist-like thing
in his field of vision and unable to feel anything but the frantic,
desperate, sensual assault on his genitals. Nothing else existed. The
attack was so intense that it managed to provoke the exact opposite of
what the secretary intended; instead of making the boi cum it managed to
reinforce his conditioning against cuming to the point where the
question of whether or not he should cum wasn't even able to form in his
mind. It had cemented itself as an immutable fact. He was unable to cum
no matter the stimulation; how else could it be that he was unable to
cum when subjected to such treatment?

As the hour ran down, the secretary's arms shook from the exertion; her
lips and tongue were losing their power to hold on to the boi's cock and
her hands began to fumble. She knew she was losing and panic began to
set in. When the gallery owner announced that she had failed she broke
down crying, incoherently begging him to let the blonde sissy go and
take her instead.

But there was no mercy to be found from the two evil bastards. Soon the
blonde was tied down to a foot stool, her stomach resting on the seat of
the stool while her arms and legs were tied to the legs of it. Naked
except for her heels, she was too frightened to even cry, her face
simply a wide open mask of terror. As the last bond was tightened she
lost control over her bladder and bowel; a stream of watery shit and
urine ran out of her and down on the floor as she began keening with
terror.

At a mere nod from the gallery owner, the other sissy beauty, the
gorgeous redhead ran over to the blonde's bound form and eagerly ate the
waste she had deposited on the floor before licking her clean. There was
no hesitation whatsoever in any of her movements and her face betrayed
her fear. Even as she stood up, her disgusting task complete and carried
out to perfection, her face was contracted in a supremely nervous smile.
She would clearly do anything to avoid provoking punishment.

The final task, before fading into the background, which the redhead
completed, was to place an empty garbage can in front of the blonde
sissy. The sick looks on the faces of all three sissies told Daddy that
they all knew full well what that meant.

While the blonde sissy was being tied down by the gallery owner, the boi
was left tied up as he had been during the secretary's attempt to make
him cum. He was still lost in the sensation and Daddy recognized that
untying him and making him watch the castration about to take would be
useless. Better to leave him tied up as uncomfortably as possible. That
way the pain might bring him back to the world. As Daddy looked down on
the bound form of his boy he estimated that it might be quite some time.
A thin line of drool ran down the boi's cheek as a low moan escaped his
constricted throat. His cock, slick with juices and spit, looked as if
it would never lose its proud and insistent erection again.

Meanwhile the secretary knelt behind the blonde sissy, crying hopelessly
and mewling inane apologies to her love for what she was about to do.
Then the gallery owner stepped up to stand right behind her, leaned
forward until he had his mouth next to her ear and whispered his first
command into her ear. The secretary's face showed no shock at the
command, but simply began crying harder. Then she pulled the blonde's
balls towards herself with one hand, making sure their surface was
exposed, and slapped them very, very hard ten times in a row. For the
first second or two nothing happened. Then the blonde sissy, her face
contracted in pain, emitted a low pitched scream, or perhaps a high
moan. The second her screaming stopped the secretary slapped her balls
again; this time twenty times in a row. This time the reaction was far
more violent, the blonde screaming and jerking against her bonds. The
gallery owner, still issuing his commands by whispering in her ear, made
the secretary subject the blonde sissy to five more rounds of slapping,
the last a flurry of fifty hard blows making her vomit violently.

A break ensued, a strange pause where one sissy stood absolutely still,
hardly daring to breathe, one sissy cried inconsolably while she tried
apologizing to her lover and the third sissy screamed and moaned,
begging to her owner to make it stop, let her go, castrate her now;
anything to make the pain stop.

But of course the torture had only just begun. After letting the poor
sissy's balls swell up for about ten minutes, the secretary was ordered
into action again. This time the torture was kneading. Cupping her
victim's balls with both hands and applying brutal pressure, the
secretary kneaded the blonde's balls for two minutes in the first cycle.
After a short scream, the blonde vomited again before resuming her
screaming. Her crying gradually turning into a hopeless keening, the
secretary went through six more cycles of kneading the blonde's balls
before stopping.

Daddy looked at the blonde sissy's balls during the break. Already
damaged beyond repair, the swelling became even more pronounced. He
moved in for a feel, making her scream as he felt how the testes inside
the sack now had a distinctly lumpy feel to them. Daddy smiled an evil
smile aimed directly at the secretary, locking eyes with her and then
bent, grabbed her face and kissed her deep and hard. As he drew away,
looking into her surprised and sad face, he said to her in the low tones
of a lover and confidant: "Think about how much you love the bitch as
you crush her balls. Imagine the tender kisses after her balls have been
destroyed. Picture in your mind her heartfelt gratitude as she thanks
you for removing her ability to take pleasure in sex forever. Imagine
kissing her and telling her that you love her". The shock on the
secretary's face was only there briefly before she again began crying
inconsolably; knowing full well that what she was being ordered to do
now would forever ruin her relationship with the lovely blonde sissy.

The blonde sissy's balls had now grown to the size of grapefruits and
were beginning to take on a blue color and from the look of the skin,
smooth and taut, they looked very, very tender.

The next torture form turned out to be squeezing. Grabbing a testicle in
each hand the secretary was ordered to squeeze the testicles for a
number of seconds, starting off lightly with ten. The seventh and last
cycle was a full seventy seconds and by then the blonde sissy had
stopped vomiting or retching, had stopped screaming or moaning and had
been reduced to a red-bluish and bloated face, eyes almost popping out
of their sockets as her mouth, open in a huge O, failed to produce any
sound at all.

Her balls were no doubt far beyond repair, but the gallery owner wanted
a good show and so the secretary was forced to repeat the same three
kinds of torture again, cycling through all three four more times, each
torture type repeated seven times per cycle, until the blonde had to be
brought back to consciousness before each new round. Her balls were
reduced to strangely lumpy shapes; grotesquely bloated and uneven, their
color dark blue.

The final act was to tie a piece of thin, smooth and very strong rope
around the base of her scrotum, thus cutting off all blood flow to them.
After about half an hour, during which the secretary had to blow her
owner while thanking him for giving her this opportunity to prove her
devotion, it became apparent that the blonde sissy was losing feeling in
them and she looked up at her lover with stupid gratitude for finally
doing her balls in and making the pain go away. The look on her face was
enough to spark another round of hopeless crying from the secretary as
she rightly feared for the sanity of the blonde. It looked as if the
prolonged torture and intense pain had damaged her mind; reduced her to
an idiot.

Daddy shot his load into the terrified redhead, who very nearly tied
herself into a knot as she tried desperately to please him, and thought
about what a thoroughly pleasant afternoon it had been. He had further
reinforced his own boi's inability to cum while witnessing an
astonishingly brutal castration. It could only have been better if he
had crushed the sissy's balls himself.

After the redhead had licked his cock clean and respectfully returned it
to him, he went to pick up the boi. Still tied up in the outrageously
uncomfortable position, the little shit had missed the castration
altogether. The screams had been very loud just a few feet away, but he
was still lost in his own private hell of permanent horniness and utter
inability to cum. Releasing him from his bonds did little to improve his
state of mind and in the end Daddy simply threw the useless shit over
his shoulder and carried him to the car; the only part of him not limp
being his worthless cock.

As the months went by the boi now blended into Daddy's daily routines as
his ever present fucktoy. Occasionally he was taken out and witnessed
horrible torture sessions carried out in dungeons around town. While he
was often ordered to participate, he was never used by others. Whatever
else he might do, Daddy never shared his own fuckhole. He often brought
freshly caught young men to the other evil men in his circle, but he
kept the boi to himself.

Most of the day the boi spent alone in Daddy's apartment or in the
company of Daddy's cleaning lady, who came around every second day. When
alone the boi worked out according to Daddy's very explicit instructions
or worked in other ways to appear pleasing to Daddy, again according to
Daddy's instructions.

When alone with Daddy's cleaning lady he was usually subjected to more
frustrating and demeaning torture.

The cleaning lady was a small black woman in her fifties with very dark
skin and large and sensitive brown eyes. She was tiny, only just five
feet tall, with full and perfect fake tits but otherwise very thin. She
wore her hair in a bun so tight it would make most people want to
scream. She came to the apartment and cleaned every crack and corner,
not letting the boi help with anything, and when she came into the
apartment from the street she looked just like her part: An elderly lady
in a somewhat too large coat, wearing sensible shoes and carrying a
large bag.

However, upon entering the apartment she changed looks entirely. Her
unshapely coat was put neatly away as were her shoes. She slipped out of
her dress, revealing her nice body completely naked underneath her
shapeless dress. Then she put on her shoes, revealing just what she
really was. The cleaning lady's work shoes were a pair of gleaming
white, knee high stiletto boots with seven inch shiny metal spikes for
heels, laced up the front so tightly that it very nearly defied belief.
She never wore anything else while in Daddy's apartment. She vacuumed
the whole place, washed and scrubbed the floors meticulously, cleaned
the bathrooms until they were spotless and did the same with every
available surface in the apartment. Everything there was to clean she
cleaned perfectly every second day. And she never wore anything else but
her white stiletto boots.

When Daddy came back to the apartment and found her still there, the
true nature of their relationship was revealed. Invariably she dropped
to her knees, crawled over to him and worshipped his feet as a greeting.
If she was lucky, which happened rarely, she would be allowed to blow
him or even fucked in the ass. Since Daddy did not give pleasure to
slaves except as a conditioning tool, fucking her pussy was out of the
question. If she was allowed to blow him she actually cried with
gratitude as she would remove her dentures and take Daddy in her
completely smooth mouth.

Long ago she had been Daddy's nanny, the woman who effectively raised
him while his rich parents had indulged in other activities much of the
time. Like his friend, the gallery owner, Daddy had been raised but
parents who loved to torture slaves, both male and female, and so they
had hired a nanny to take care of their only son while off at either
work or in the basement make some poor shit scream for sport.

The nanny had either been unaware of what went on or had told herself it
didn't concern her. Either way it had turned out to be a big mistake.
The woman, his caring and loving nanny, had been Daddy's very first
victim. At the tender age of thirteen he, as her duties were winding
down, had gone to his parents and explained what he would like to do.
They then helped make sure that no one would come looking for the poor
woman and that everything was in place for her to disappear. Then one
fine Wednesday morning the young sadistic psychopath had pounced on his
victim, tying her up and raping her repeatedly as his own sexual debut
before beginning training her as his first very own slave. He kept her
like that for years, conducting his first experiments in conditioning,
long past the point where he had discovered that he preferred feminized
men as slaves, until releasing her - sort of.

She now lived in a tiny one room apartment, working as a nearly normal
cleaner for some of Daddy's friends half of her days and working for
free, cleaning Daddy's place the rest of the days.

At night she worked as cheap whore in a whorehouse one of Daddy's
friends owned.

The money she earned cleaning and whoring for Daddy's friends' were paid
directly to Daddy, who then saw to it that she had - nearly - enough
food and that her rent and transportation costs were paid. Daddy had
long ago decided that hot water and heating were not needed for her,
just as TV, music and entertainment of any kind was forbidden. And
besides, she was practically never home in her tiny one room apartment,
spending nearly all of her waking hours making money for Daddy.

As Daddy's old nanny she did, however, enjoy one perk. A perk which
served to make the boi's life even more miserable. Once a week she spent
one and a half hours less than normal on cleaning Daddy's apartment.
This time was instead spent getting fucked by the boi.

The old nanny would remove the clothing from the immaculately dressed
boi, letting him keep on his heels as per Daddy's orders. It always
happened in the kitchen and so did the fucking. As a slave she was not
allowed the comfort of beds, couches, table tops or even rugs so she had
the boi screw her senseless on the cold tile of the kitchen floor. For
one and a half hour she directed his every move, making the ever hard
boi screw her until she screamed with pleasure and he cried desperately
for the orgasm which would never cum. When Daddy came home both slaves
would be covered in sweat and both would be crying; the nanny from
gratitude and the boi from misery.

This was now the boi's life. The constant mixture of love for Daddy and
acute, overwhelming fear of him, coupled with obedience and routine. An
unending stream of frustrated fucks never leading to an orgasm, yet
never resulting in a diminishment of his desire. Acute attention to
detail in dressing and body posture, working desperately to obey and
thus be pleasing.

As Daddy had intended he had been reduced to a pretty toy; a sexy,
desirable dress up bitch to fuck and punish. Less and less to punish and
more and more to just fuck or get sucked by.

Most days his world was Daddy's apartment. After his daily routines -
exercise, grooming, cleaning himself and dressing sexily - were
exhausted and with Daddy gone he had nothing to do. Being what he was
all kinds of leisure activities were forbidden: no reading, no watching
TV, no using a computer, no listening to music and certainly no games of
any kind. In short he had nothing at all to do. When this happened he
simply stood just inside the front door of the apartment, where the
private elevator would leave Daddy, staring blankly at it, waiting for
Daddy to come home. Nothing but memories of previous fucks passed
through his mind as he stood there for hours, just waiting for Daddy to
come home and use him. Daddy's conditioning process had succeeded again
and the boi had lost the capability to think creatively in any way; when
presented with an obstacle or task he was now unable to perform unless
under specific orders.

Some small slivers of creative thinking did, however, slip into his mind
and were not only tolerated by Daddy, but encouraged to some degree.
Grooming had taken on a near religious significance for the boi, who had
become far, far more meticulous than Daddy had originally intended in
his efforts to look and feel desirable. Hours were spent making sure
that every square inch of his body was not only completely and utterly
devoid of hair, but also soft, smooth and extremely pleasing to touch.

Dressing attractively and sexily while at the same time in appearing
classy had also become an area to which the boi not only devoted
considerable amounts of time, but also had become extremely proficient;
far more so than any other boi that Daddy could remember. Daddy actually
found himself looking forward to seeing which outfit the boi had chosen
for the day.

The boi's creativeness in dressing and his desire to please Daddy came
to the fore as Daddy rekindled his old fondness of breathplay. After a
handful of brutal strangulations during sex, the boi - long since in his
final form - one day very, very timidly made his first request ever,
thereby also marking the very first time he had spoken without being
addressed first: "Daddy, please Daddy. Daddy, may I please have a silk
scarf Daddy?" The boi rambled on for a short while, apologizing for
speaking out of order, but Daddy didn't hear much of it as he prepared
to beat any opposition out of him. Then he thought about the request and
much to both the boi's and his own surprise, he grunted in agreement and
left the apartment with a promise to punish the boi for his
transgression.

For the first time in what seemed like years - and it had in fact been
more than three years since Daddy had led boi out of his dungeon after
his initial conditioning - the boi stood waiting for Daddy to come home
with something other than pleasant blankness on his mind. His heart
pounded in anticipation of the punishment to come certainly, but the
more dominant reason for his excitement was anticipation of how Daddy
might react to his use of a scarf.

The boi was not disappointed with regards to punishment, so the next
morning it was a very sore boi who got out of bed three hours before
Daddy as usual, so that he might have enough time to groom and dress
properly. When he woke Daddy up, breakfast ready, he looked perfect as
usual. But this morning he had tied his new scarf stylishly tight around
his neck, leaving two loose ends sticking out very fetchingly behind his
head. Fetchingly and terribly convenient when Daddy wanted to play with
his breath.

Daddy noticed instantly upon opening his eyes and gave an approving nod
to his slave. An approving nod followed by pulling the boi's head down
towards his rapidly growing erection for a blowjob. This was far from
unusual and neither was the stream of warm, almost thick, salty and
acrid morning urine released into the boi's mouth. Neither was Daddy's
expectation of the perfect blowjob, which the boi dutifully and with
great pride delivered after swallowing the flood of piss. What was
unusual and most gratifying for the boi, was the fact that towards the
end of the blowjob, Daddy grabbed the scarf ends and pulled them tight.
Panic quickly set in as it always did when his breathing was cut off,
followed by a period where he successfully fought off the urge to spasm
and fight for his life. This period was again followed by a time -
always surprisingly long it seemed to the boi - where he lost all
control and dignity, his legs kicking at thin air and his hands grabbing
at Daddy, finding no purchase before finally either losing consciousness
or being allowed to breathe again. Losing consciousness was by far the
worst aspect of breathplay for the boi, each time thinking that he was
dying. This time he did lose consciousness as he felt the scarf dig much
deeper into his neck than any rope had ever done. His last thought was
as to whether he had excited Daddy so much this time that he was
actually being killed.

Waking up several hours later he cried with relief that Daddy hadn't
killed him and that his hope of pleasing the evil man owning him had
worked so well. He had been dumped on the pleasantly warm tiles of the
bathroom and the first thing he saw, his cheek resting on the floor, was
a small puddle of liquid directly in front of his. The liquid looked to
be a greenish color but he soon realized that this was because Daddy in
a somewhat macabre twist had covered the boi's face with the outspread
scarf. The puddle was in actual fact whitish in color and was of course
semen which had run out of his mouth as he had been unable to swallow it
because of the constriction around his throat.

Removing the scarf and sitting up, he noticed both the revolting smell
and the revolting sensation as his ass shifted around in the shit he had
released in his own pants as he lost consciousness.

The boi, so rigidly trained and conditioned, was shaken and deeply
scared. And deeply proud as well. He had succeeded in pleasing Daddy, in
exciting him, but the price had been moving very close to getting
killed. Furthermore it didn't take a whole lot of thinking to realize
that he would now have to employ scarves nearly every day. The boi
shuddered and got up to clean himself up, so that he might be ready for
when Daddy came home again.

And when Daddy did come home, he found the perfect looking boi standing
just inside the door as he always did, this time wearing the scarf and a
decidedly nervous smile.

Soon Daddy began giving the boi new scarves every other day and without
a word ever being spoken it became law for the boi always to wear a
scarf. Always. The only time he wouldn't wear one was when he took a
shower. Otherwise he would always have one stylishly and conveniently
tied as tightly around his neck as he could manage. At night he slept
beside Daddy in sexy heels and with a scarf tightened around his neck.

It took on the appearance of an obsession for Daddy, sometimes
strangling the boi to unconsciousness three times a day; though most
days just once. The effects then materialized, some quickly evolving,
others more slowly. First the boi developed a permanent strangulation
scar, a silk burn, around his neck so that the scarves were now needed
to cover up this scar. Scars also began appearing around his wrists and
ankles as Daddy increasingly began using them for tying his slave up
too, something he had rarely bothered doing before.

After about a year the second effect gradually began showing itself. The
boi began having trouble concentrating, sometimes stopping whatever he
did for minutes at a time, lost in thoughts of absolutely nothing.
Things which before had been easy suddenly required increasing
concentration as his brain became more and more damaged.

Daddy did notice these effects, but the boi was merely a slave, an
object for him to use, so he just followed his lust and did whatever he
pleased with the boi; just as he had all along.

Chapter 6: Sold
It had been more than five years since Daddy had grabbed the young man
off the street and turned him into the docile, feminine and utterly
obedient sex toy that the boi was. Daddy had had this boi for much
longer than usual; he usually tired of the little shits in less than two
years. Although Daddy was fond of breath play - very fond - and was
prepared to do whatever it took to his slaves, snuffing them wasn't his
thing. Selling them was far better; not only was it profitable, but it
was also exquisite torture of the bois who had all become not only
devoted to Daddy, but utterly dependent on him.

So one morning, the boi dressed in ultra tight, black leather pants
ending mid-calf, a very tight, black T-shirt, a very expensive gold
scarf and 6 inch gold stilettos, instead of leaving the boi to himself
for the day, Daddy took his victim by the hand and led him into the
elevator and the into his waiting limo. The boi had no thoughts about
where he was going and in fact felt only happiness for being allowed to
suck Daddy's cock more than usual.

After a short drive, the limo came to a halt in an anonymous parking
basement. It was parked next to another equally luxurious limo and as
Daddy got out, pulling the boi out as well, the door to the other limo
opened as well and its passenger stepped out.

It was a lady in her early fifties; very tall, perhaps six foot two
flatfooted. Except she wasn't in flats. Instead she wore a pair of very
elegant, shiny black pumps with six and a half inch stilettos. And not
only was her height imposing, but her demeanor was one of absolute
control and command. She had graying blonde hair, coiffed to perfection,
a very sharp face and eyes the color old, cold and hard glaciers. She
was clad in a supremely luxurious and obviously expensive, deep and dark
brown fur coat reaching all the way down to mid-shin. Her hands were
covered by very thin black silk gloves and when she moved an obviously
insanely expensive silk suit could be glimpsed underneath the fur. Her
voice had the quality of a silk covered steel knife; the smoothness and
softness on the surface masking the obvious cruelty and determination
only slightly.

She and Daddy exchanged pleasantries and then her attention turned to
the boi, who of course stood passively by savoring the taste of Daddy's
wonderful juices freshly deposited in his mouth. The first thing she did
was to force his mouth open - meeting of no resistance whatsoever -
removing the boi's dentures and inspecting his mouth. A sharp nod
indicated her satisfaction and the she asked Daddy: "And I am correct in
saying that it is completely unable to cum? No matter what is done to
it?" Daddy smiled and confirmed that this was indeed the case.

Looking at the bulge in the boi's pants, she said: "I don't mean to be
rude, but I will have to check that for myself, given the shit's obvious
... elation". Daddy laughed quietly at this and told her to go ahead. Not
long after she had taken the boi's cock out of his pants and now stood
stooping forward as she was much taller than the boi.

The touch of her silk clad hands was like nothing the boi had ever
experienced. Not even the sensation of being taken from behind by Daddy
while Daddy's expert hands manipulated his cock could prepare him for
this. In less than a minute his cock was so hard he thought it would
actually burst and is had begun throbbing rhythmically. The boi stood
staring at the woman, his eyes wide open and a thin stream of drool
running out of his wide open mouth. His hips had begun an involuntary
dance, jerking spasmodically in tune to her strokes and had Daddy not
grabbed him from behind he would have fallen down as the massive
sensation of pure, undiluted sexual pleasure coming from his cock
overwhelmed his entire being. He felt nothing but her expert touch and
saw nothing but her cold, hard eyes as she claimed him.

In the four years that had passed since his conditioning had been
completed he had been sexually hyperactive each and every day, at least
several hours a day and had been in so many arousing situations that it
would have been impossible to count them. In all that time his
conditioning had prevented him from cuming no matter how aroused he had
been and no matter how many frustrated tears he had cried. But now it
seemed that this woman was about to break his conditioning. He could
almost feel the orgasm begin rolling, could nearly feel how the
unstoppable wave of arousal, desire and lust was building up to the
point of finally flooding his entire being. So strong was this feeling
that he very nearly forgot about not only the rest of the world, but
also about Daddy. His hips pumped harder and his breathing became
desperate gasps as he began sweating with the exertion. His cock was now
slick with his juices and the sensation of her silken gloves moving
expertly over his sticky member was enough for him to begin moaning
helplessly. He lost control over his legs and was now only held up by
Daddy. He drooled like a complete lunatic. He saw nothing but the cold
and hard woman and felt nothing except her expert hands as he prepared
to finally cum. He moaned, screamed and begged, his body practically
convulsing as his orgasm built up towards the inevitable climax.

But the orgasm did not cum. In the end Daddy's conditioning held up and
after a while the desperate boi began crying; crying while he moaned and
screamed helplessly. In the end, after a period of time the boi had no
way of assessing, she finally let go of his cock and Daddy let him flop
to the floor, landing like a boned fish, completely spent, nothing left
in him.

"I am impressed," the woman said to Daddy, admiration in her voice,
"usually even the best trained slave shits fail in my hands. You must
have quite the training program?" Daddy modestly admitted to indeed
having a good conditioning program, but otherwise he simply smiled. The
response drew a smile from the cruel lady as she recognized Daddy for
what he was. The boi heard none of this absorbed as he was in the
massive arousal and disappointment in his crotch.

The woman then informed Daddy that she was pleased with what she saw and
that she wanted to buy the little shit. This got through the haze of
sexual excitement and with fear in his eyes the boi heard how his owner,
the man he had been trained so brutally to love and adore, was simply
selling him as if he had been nothing more than a used car.

Daddy and the woman haggled for a short while, but it was soon clear
that she wanted to own the boi no matter what. A price, quite steep, was
settled on and with that ownership passed to the woman. The boi was made
to stand and Daddy lifted up his chin and looked straight into the boi's
teary eyes: "Be good boi," he admonished, "Don't embarrass me too much".
And with that he turned around, got into his car and drove away. The
look in the boi's eyes had been worth it all, had been even better than
the substantial amount of money the little shit had brought him. Oh how
he had savored the suffering, the anguish of the desperate boi, now
being abandoned by the only personal contact he had in the whole world.
The whole handover had been intensely arousing for Daddy and it was a
good thing that he could count on his cleaning lady being at home.
Before he went about planning his next abduction, he was going to beat
and fuck that little lady harder than he had in years.

Back in the parking basement the boi stood crying hopelessly as Daddy's
car drove off. The lady who now owned him would have none of it: "Stop
that, you sniveling, little shit!", she barked, "you belong to me now!"
With that she put the bois' member back into his pants with a look of
contempt on her face, removed her soiled silk gloves, stuffed one of
them into the boi's mouth and used the other one to tie it in place. She
then signaled her driver, a huge man, and he cuffed the boi's hands
behind his back and cuffed his ankles together before dumping him in the
limo's trunk. The boi lay bound and gagged, and intensely unhappy, as
the limo whisked him off to new torments.

The woman who now owned him was simply called Mommy and like Daddy she
was apparently a woman of immense financial resources. But whereas Daddy
had operated below any public radar, carefully avoiding exposure to the
outside world and sharing his proclivities with only a select few who
conducted their own illegal kidnapping and torture operations, Mommy
seemingly had the most fantastic connections, enabling her to conduct
her evil deeds in near public.

Almost immediately upon his arrival the boi found out that he was now
only one among a whole flock of slaves. The boi had effectively lost his
ability to count during his years as Daddy's unthinking piece of slave
meat and the year of intense breathplay hadn't improved his abilities,
but had he been able to count he would have found that Mommy never had
less than seven slaves in her possession and that the rate of change was
terrifyingly fast.

Not only were there many of them, but the slaves moved around in her
huge mansion without any attempt to hide their presence, even when she
had visitors. The mansion was placed in an upscale neighborhood, on a
large piece of land but was nonetheless plainly visible from the road.

The slaves were all heavily feminized males, none younger than about
twenty-two and none older than thirty. Mommy liked her slaves young, but
with a relatively solidly established sexuality and that sexuality had
to be heterosexual. Whatever perverse tortures she employed to
accomplish her goals, Mommy's real pleasure lay in turning solidly
heterosexual males into utterly subjugated, sniveling, completely
sissified bitches who were forbidden under any circumstance to cum.
Mommy used any and all means to keep her slaves subjugated sexually,
breaking them down until they simpered, minced and moved their asses as
ultra feminine dolls.

The boi found this out gradually as he himself was introduced to slavery
in the style of Mommy. His first stop in her house was not the dungeon;
Mommy's house did not have a dungeon. His first stop was what for all
intents and purposes was the house dungeon, the primary place of
torture: Mommy's bedroom. It was, of course, enormous with a huge bed -
room for five at least - occupying most of one side of the bedroom. The
room of course had a grooming area with make-up a table and mirrors, a
door leading to the vast bathroom and a door leading to an even larger
walk-in closet. This still left plenty of space for "other activities"
in the room.

As the boi was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, he noticed two other
figures in the room: one was an ultra-feminized maid of sorts and the
other was a still male-looking slave undergoing
transformation/punishment.

The maid was tall, perhaps six feet three in her heels, and slender but
with a surprisingly large and supple ass. She wore a full body outfit
made of thick, deep red silk with elaborate embroideries covering the
entire surface of the suit. The suit clung to her every curve, including
her completely flat chest. At the wrists and ankles were very voluminous
white lace trimmings, which were also present at the body hugging suit's
high neck. Her hands, sticking out of clouds of white lace, were covered
in thin, red silk gloves and around her waist, on the outside of the
silk suit, a brutal, but very stylish, black corset shrunk her waist
down to a trifle. On her feet were high black boots, laced up the front
and disappearing up under the silk suit so that only the lower parts of
the boots were visible. They had thin six inch heels and the slave wore
them perfectly. Her hair was made up in a fierce, almost afro-like perm,
a cloud of frizzy blonde hair surrounding her head. She had no bonds of
any kind on her, not even a collar, but from an opening in the suit's
crotch an impressive hard-on shoved her status clearer than any bonds
could ever have done. The scrotum was encased in a lacy, pink pouch and
around the cock, just behind the head, a fine pink, silk ribbon had been
tied in a pretty bow. The prettily presented member was bound by three
more pink ribbons holding it securely pressed against her abdomen. The
cock head glistened with the pretty maid's frustrated juices and when
Mommy entered the room she dropped to her knees and worshipped the
ground until told to stand up.

The second slave in the room was bound and quite severely too. A young
man of perhaps twenty-two or three with a lithe body, he had been
mounted on a large diameter dildo pole, which kept him on his toes. His
feet were held by tiny, pink ankle high stiletto boots with six inch
heels, pretty pink bows placed near the tips of the boots and on the
pretty pink heels too. His hands were held inside fingerless mittens
made from thick, pink leather decorated with yet more pretty pink bows.
His upper arms had been fused to his lower arms with three pink leather
straps each, so that he now held his hands in a ridiculous sissy posture
by his shoulders. His body was perfectly smooth and his skin looked soft
and tanned. His thick, black hair had grown to shoulder length and had
been done in a very pretty and feminine pageboy.

From his crotch a proud erection stood twitching and glistening, a pink
ribbon tied in a pretty bow right behind the cock head. He was ungagged
and when Mommy entered he began pleading to be let loose, that he would
never tell anyone, that he promised to be good and so on. Mommy's
response was simple and direct and without a single word. She took a
long step forward, gathering momentum, and kicked the useless shit
squarely in the balls as hard as possible. All air and sound disappeared
from the slave and his face became deeply red. The boi could see that he
needed to scream but was unable to. Just as he began breathing again
Mommy took a step back, came forward again with full force and kicked
his nuts again. She did this ten times in a row. By the fifth the slave
had begun vomiting with pain, but that didn't stop her from completing
the full treatment.

While the unbound maid slave was cleaning up the vomit and the impaled
sissy slave to be was still gasping in pain, trying to scream and cry,
Mommy stepped up to him and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him up
while tightening the grip until he could no longer breathe. "You are my
property bitch," she hissed into the sissy's face, "you are now past
your initial training and there will be no release for you; not now, not
ever. Three squirts and they're off for you; just like all the other
sissy bitches. Any more shit from you, you useless sissy bitch, and I'll
fucking strangle you!" The tone shocked the boi, if not the words. To be
spoken to like that as a sissy slave seemed pretty standard to him, but
it was a shock to hear them come out of the mouth of such a dignified
lady such as his new owner.

In the meantime Mommy had turned around and now lifted up her feet, one
at a time, and allowed the unbound sissy to lick them clean of puke so
her mistress could walk around unsoiled by the ugly leavings of her
sissy slave. Her shoes nice and clean, Mommy came over to the bound form
of her new acquisition. Her fur coat had been put away by a slave and
she now gracefully squatted down dressed only in her outrageously classy
and expensive, black silk dress and doing so with unmatched elegance in
her six and a half inch heels. Even squatting down she was very big. Her
hands were no longer covered by silken gloves but sported discrete and
obviously expensive jewelry. She looked the boi over carefully and the
raised her hands, snapping her finger as she spoke a single word:
"Scissors". Nearly instantly the silk clad maid appeared and delivered a
pair of scissors in her owner's hand. These were then used to cut away
all of the boi's clothes, leaving only his golden stilettos. Once his
clothes were gone the evil woman ran her hands over his smooth skin with
obvious relish and after a while she spoke to him in soft tones: "You
are my bitch now and make no mistake: you are a bitch to me; a sissy
bitch. The other sissy shit here," she threw her head, indicating the
maid, "will show you proper dress shortly and introduce you to most of
the routines around here. The rest you will learn soon enough and unless
you really are as well-trained as you former Master led me to believe,
this learning process will involve a lot of screaming on your part" Her
hands lingered on the boi's testicles, cupping them with one hand and
slowly increasing the pressure. "There is, however, one rule you must be
told straight away, which applies to all my sissies once their initial
training is complete, as your own is. It's simple: Three squirts and
they're off. Cumming is forbidden in my house, but stimulation is
constant so you get three squirts. As soon as you've shot the third load
I castrate you. Sometimes I spend a great deal of time crushing them
first, but in the end I always band them and leave them to fall off.
With your conditioning it should be no problem, but now you are warned".

With that Mommy stood up, leaving the terrified boi on the floor,
dropping her dress elegantly as she went over and removed the impaled
sissy from his pole and took him to bed. Soon her moans of passion could
be heard as the newly sissified bitch was forced to go down on her
mistress. Through the slobbering produced by the slave's tongue the boi
could hear her cries of pain as Mommy used a belt to beat his ass and
genitals as she reached one orgasm after the other.

Meanwhile the maid in the full body suit freed the boi from his bonds
and helped him stand. She then led him from the bedroom to begin
instructing and outfitting him properly. Right outside the bedrooms,
before doing anything else the maid dropped to her knees and looked up
at the boi and said in a very high pitched falsetto: "Mommy said that
you had been conditioned to be unable to cum and that I should test
this". Without further delay she then put his cock in her mouth and used
one hand to rub his shaft and the other alternate between fondling his
balls and fingering him deep in his ass. The maid was good; no
fantastic! With no one around to support him this time the boi's legs
soon collapsed under him and landed on the floor enveloped in a haze of
extreme stimulation and arousal. The maid's tongue was unbelievable and
very nearly as good as Mommy's marvelous hands. Nearly, but not quite as
good. Good enough, however, to make the boi loose all track of time and
surroundings and after an hour of continuous stimulation scream with
frustration. His balls were as ever filled to the point of bursting but
even the maid's expert manipulation could not bring him an orgasm.

After about an hour and a half Mommy came out of her bedroom with the
other sissy slave in tow. Mommy wore only a black leather bustier, a
pair of black leather panties, very long, very thin black leather
gloves, reaching past the middle of her upper arms and a pair thigh
high, black leather boots laced up the front. The boots shone from
carefully applied leather polish and their pencil thin seven inch heels
made from high gloss polished high strength steel only made Mommy tower
even higher over her utterly subjugated and demeaned subjects. In one
hand she held a riding crop and in the other a piece of rope by which
she led her victim.

The new sissy bitch she had in tow offered the perfect contrast,
superbly underlining her dominance. Her hands were still sealed inside
their pink leather mittens and her lower arms were still fused with her
upper arms. Now her lower legs were also fused with her upper legs with
the same kind of pink leather straps used for her arms and she "walked"
on all fours, on her elbows and knees. While this was certainly painful
in itself, it was the least of her problems. Her pink stiletto boots
were connected, pulled as close to each other as possible in fact, by a
piece of white rope encircling each foot at the instep. This rope was
again connected to a piece of rope pulling at her balls. Her balls had
clearly taken a serious beating and quite possibly also more than a mere
beating. Both testicles had swollen to the size of grapefruits and were
deep purple in color. Their skin was marked by welts and scratches as if
they had been both beaten with an object and scratched by fingernails.
Finally she was being dragged along by Mommy by a rope tied so tightly
around neck her that it dug deeply into her flesh; so much so that face
was a shade of deep red, her very bloodshot eyes looked ready to pop out
of their sockets and her tongue, now dark blue, hung out of her mouth
and she struggled with the slightest of movements, her breath a
profoundly troubled wheeze. When Mommy stopped, the sissy slave stood
completely still, trying desperately to catch what little breath she
had. Her eyes stared sightlessly ahead as she used all of her energy
just to try to breathe.

Mommy stopped by the two slaves on the floor and asked: "Well?" The maid
pressed her forehead to the floor in front of Mommy's feet and answered,
out of breath herself from the effort of trying to make the boi cum:
"Nothing Goddess. This sissy slave has been unable to make the other
useless sissy slave cum. Goddess, please Goddess". The maid's entire
body shook with exertion and fear as she was unsure which response this
would elicit from her owner.

Mommy's response was a high, sparkling and obviously delighted laughter
with a sound so cruel and psychotic it shook the boi out of his haze of
arousal and made all the hair on his head stand on end. After a short
while Mommy, the laugh still in her voice, said: "Oh we like that; we
like that very much, don't we?" At the last word she turned to her sissy
doggy and brought the crop down on her exposed and already brutalized
balls with all of her considerable force. The effect was to make all of
the sissy's limbs spasm uncontrollably. She didn't have enough air to
produce a scream and her face was already locked in a contortion of pain
and strangulation so all she could do was to spasm. Spasm, lose control
of her bladder and in short order collapse unconscious on the floor, her
limps continuing their spasms for a little while until she lay
completely still.

Mommy just dropped the leash, instructed the maid to get on with her
work and left the slave on the floor, not caring if she was dead or
unconscious. In the boi's very diminished mind, heavily conditioned to
accept everything he was subjected to and to never harbor independent
thoughts, the thought that the woman he now belonged to was far more
cruel, dangerous and unstable than even Daddy had appeared and real fear
permeated his body. He looked up at the maid, who stood over him and saw
the same fear in her. The boi shuddered, but could do nothing. He was
after all just a slave.

Chapter 7: Turned into a bitch
The maid helped the boi stand and led him to dressing/grooming room for
his transformation into what Mommy required. When the process was done a
couple of hours later the boi was no more. What emerged was a complete
sissy bitch: the pink bitch.

She had perfect make-up with large, moist and perfectly painted lips.
Her hair was now smooth and platinum blonde with pink bows placed in it.
Her hands were now clad in lacy, pink, fingerless gloves so that her
perfectly manicured pink fingernails were clearly visible. Around her
throat, hiding the permanent scar from Daddy's strangulations, was a
collar made of pink leather with a pink, heart shaped pendant hanging
from it, with the words "Mommy's darling" written in white. The maid had
a similar pendant with the same wording.

The pink bitch's upper body was clad in an ultra short pink T-shirt,
showing all of her midriff. Only calling it a T-shirt was misleading; it
was an ultra tight lace thing, which might as well have been called
"pinkish nakedness". The pink bitch had short, short pink silk hotpants
covering her perfect sissy ass and from the crotch of these her
ever-hard cock protruded, openly proclaiming her status as an owned
bitch. The cock had a pink ribbon and bow tied around it right behind
the cockhead and was held tightly to her abdomen by three pink, silk
ribbons or straps. As the hotpants were very small this meant that her
ever excited cock rubbed against her bare belly, leaving a growing wet
spot there as the day progressed. Finally her feet were clad in ankle
high white socks with a lace trim around the edge and a pair of seven
inch pink stilettos. The stilettos were a full size too small and very
pointy and had a narrow strap encircling her ankle. At the tip was a
decorative pink bow and the same kind of decorative bow was placed on
the heel of the shoe. On the stiletto heel itself three more decorative,
pink bows were placed.

The pink bitch didn't walk as much as mince carefully, her hands held
almost at shoulder height and moving in a wildly exaggerated feminine
manner giving new meaning to the term "loose-wristed". Like all of
Mommy's slaves she spoke in a high squeaky falsetto and behaved as one
would expect: like a complete bimbo.

Mommy had two kinds of slaves: the ones she called "slaves for simple
consumption", like the newly made sissy she had very nearly strangled,
and the "maids". All were sissified to an extreme extent and all were
subject to the "three squirts and they're off" rule, but beyond that
there were huge differences: The simple slaves, of which there were
never less than five, performed maid duties around the house; cleaning,
washing and such. They also made sure that Mommy's small army of burly
and brutal, but well-dressed and soft-spoken guards were happy. At any
given time at least one of the sissies was being fucked, beaten for fun
or giving a blowjob.

At Mommy's house there was even a favored style of blowjob: The sissy
placed her hands behind her back and did all the work with her mouth,
from opening the pants and pulling them down, doing the same thing with
the underwear, sucking the cock and reversing the process. The blowjob
itself was always performed by sucking only the tip of the cock while
looking up at the cock's owner with large begging eyes. It was a process
with room for many mistakes and thus also for many punishments. It also
demanded great oral skill of the sissy and so Mommy's sissies, if sold,
were prized as prime cocksuckers.

The simple slaves for consumption seldom lasted more than a few months
after initial training. Mommy was both demanding and cruel and saw her
slaves as being far, far less than human, mere playthings for her
psychopathic tendencies. Often her games went too far and the slaves
were snuffed, either by accident or on purpose when one of her foul
moods came over her. Usually she strangled the poor sissy slaves, but
fucking them to death with a huge strap-on or fisting them until they
gurgled and died was not unusual either. Mostly though, her slaves left
after being castrated for cuming three times. Usually castration was
achieved by first crushing the balls in a very lengthy torture session,
after which Mommy would band them and leave them to die and rot off.
Only when the black, dried nuts fell off did Mommy have the slave's
crotch trimmed to look nice and sell them off to a new psychotic
pervert. Given how many slaves Mommy sold, the demand for castrated
sissies must have been huge.

The second type of slave in Mommy's house was the "maid". The maids, of
which there was always two, took care of Mommy in every way she desired,
always hovering next to her, ready to obey her every command. They did
not participate in the regular housework as the other slaves did, but
they were required to please Mommy's guards when these demanded it. When
they did, the guards saw to it that they only abused one maid at a time
so that one was always available to serve Mommy. The maids had the power
to command the other slaves and were required to orchestrate and oversee
some very specific, recurring punishment and training sessions for the
other slaves.

All of Mommy's slaves were in a state of high sexual excitement every
second of every day and every night, their cocks always rock hard and
ready to cum (even if cuming was not allowed). The pink bitch had of
course been like that for years, but she had achieved this through the
brutal and continued conditioning of a master pervert, Daddy, who had
focused all of his effort on her. In Mommy's house there wasn't enough
time to condition the slaves in this manner, so other means had to be
used.

Every morning and every evening right before bedtime all of Mommy's
slaves were lined up under the supervision of the maids and at least one
guard. They would then all be required to drink a glass of a deep, red
liquid which taste vile. The color was so that all spills could be
detected and punished. The maids also drank a glass of this, but they
drank less than a fifth of what the others did. The liquid was a truly
evil aphrodisiac; it not only gave the sissies an erection guaranteed to
last at least sixteen hours; it also made them profoundly horny, an
effect lasting just as long. Finally it made thinking about subjects of
any meaningful complexity very, very hard. It reduced the slaves to
permanently horny bimbos with empty heads; perfect for slaves who needed
to be controlled. It meant that even the most strong-willed and
intelligent young man caught and enslaved was turned into a simpering
sissy bimbo with a rock hard cock destined for castration. Between the
training, the drugs and the guards there was no room for escape or
release, only castration or strangulation. The reason the maids were
given far less of the substance was that they were actually required to
do some thinking from time to time. Thus Mommy actually trained the
maids properly and usually had a sick kind of fondness for them. Usually
a maid stayed quite a bit longer than the other slaves; usually at least
a year and often as much as two, maybe even three.

The slaves were encouraged to kiss and fondle when not performing other
duties and being permanently horny they did. It was perfectly normal to
see two sissies standing around kissing each other deeply while fondling
each other frantically. Touching each other's cock, sucking them or even
fucking was allowed too, but of course cuming was not. So the sound of
one sissy squealing in terror for her sissy lover to stop, please stop
her wonderful yet terrible touch was not uncommon. Neither was the sound
of inconsolable crying as one sissy stood with a large spot of cum
drying on her clothing, hands or dripping from her mouth or ass, as the
other wept in terror. If it was the third time she had cum, the smell of
shit as she had soiled herself was far from uncommon either.

When the pink bitch was introduced Mommy had only one maid, the one who
had turned the boi into the pink bitch. Her other maid had accidentally
died during a night of extreme lovemaking when Mommy in the throes of
passion had strangled her without really meaning to. Acquiring a sissy
who could step into the position of maid without a lot of training was
thus a real find for Mommy. The fact that the newly formed sissy was
unable to cum, was a find too, albeit one that made her maid "sister"
very jealous as she had to hold her orgasms back herself without the
"benefit" of conditioning. Had she known the details of what the pink
bitch's prior owner had done to achieve this she might have been less
jealous.

The maid had only a year before been an up and coming banker; a young
man with good-going-on-great income, a gorgeous girlfriend from a rich
family, a very nice condo and a very flashy car. All that had changed
when he had met the woman he came to call "Mommy" at a reception. As one
of the bank's most wealthy and influential customers she had warranted
special attention by the young man, including a visit to her house,
requested by her, to deliver some paperwork. The task could have been
done by anyone, but since she had called him personally and made it
clear that she had wanted him to deliver them, he had seen no way in
which he could refuse. After being admitted to the grounds of her house
by a couple of huge guards who smiled strangely as they did so, he had
rung the doorbell and had been admitted by a maid like no other he had
ever seen. He was still transfixed by the "girl's" openly displayed and
openly aroused member when his client appeared. She had smiled at him -
a sick, yet very pleased smile he thought - and asked him if enjoyed
what he saw. As he feebly held out the paperwork towards her,
momentarily unable to speak, she had continued by saying that she hoped
that he did since he would shortly look like that himself. At this point
all his internal alarms rang and he turned to escape only to find the
way blocked by the two guards. From behind two more guards appeared and
soon he had been in Mommy's bedroom, body shaved completely smooth,
wearing his first stilettos and screaming as she fucked him with a
strap-on while squeezing his balls. Two months later, in a haze of
excitement and with a fear of Mommy that overshadowed everything else in
his life, he had assumed the position of maid to her as she got rid of
his predecessor in a most painful manner. The outside world thought he
had died in a violent car crash before reaching his client, very
professionally arranged by Mommy's guards, so no one was looking for
him. He was her maid until she chose to get rid of him.

As a maid the pink bitch and her "sister" had two main tasks each day,
apart from obeying every whim of their evil owner: The first was the
administration of drugs to the other slaves as well as to themselves.
Every morning all the sissies were lined up and made to kneel with their
hands behind their backs. Under the supervision of at least one guard a
maid then went down the line, pouring a large glass of the deep red
liquid into the eagerly awaiting mouths of the slaves. Then the maids
themselves had to drink a glass of the same liquid, albeit a much
smaller one so that they maintained more mental sharpness and thus would
be able to better serve Mommy.

In a matter of days after her "employment" as maid it became very clear
that not only did the pink bitch not need any drugs to stay aroused,
excited and suitably dim-witted; giving them to her reduced to a state
in which she was effectively unable to function properly. Daddy's focus
on training her to never think for herself combined with his many, many
intelligence-reducing breathplay sessions, had diminished her mental
capacity to the point where the intake of the drug given to the others
was simply too much, reducing her to an oversexed sissy minx unable to
understand even the simplest of commands, with a motor control so
impaired that she needed help navigating a simple flight of stairs. So,
since the pink bitch was far better conditioned than the other slaves,
she was the only one not forced to drink the drug. This did not mean
that she had any special advantages over the other sissies, apart from
her inability to cum of course, but rather that she was already a dumb
sissy who did not pose an escape risk and was as pliable as could hope
for.

The second task performed each day by the maids followed right after the
first one and it consisted in testing the sissies' conditioning and
ability to withstand stimulation as required under the "three squirts
and they're off"-rule.

Mommy had established it not only because she was a cruel psychopath,
but because not squirting was far too easy if one's cock was never
stimulated, a situation the more intelligent and robust of the sissies
might have been able to achieve otherwise. Furthermore the drug the
sissies were fed worked better if the arousal induced by the drug itself
was further fuelled by physical stimulation. Thus physically stimulating
the sissies increased the drug's effects, making the sissies even dumber
and less able to concentrate. This made them far more likely to seek out
stimulation themselves and thus feed the loop. The result was not only
the incessant kissing and fondling among the sissies, but also a
complete lack of attempted escapes, in spite of the fact that none of
Mommy's property were there of free will. They were simply too dumb,
unfocused and horny to try anything so complicated as escape. This meant
that the guards' primary role was keeping outsiders away from what went
on inside Mommy's house.

The mandatory simulation took place right after the administration of
the drug as the sissies knelt with their hands behind their backs. The
maids then dropped down on all fours, one at each end of the line, and
at a signal from the guard they began sucking an already visibly excited
member, twitching for attention. Unlike the cocks of the maids, the
cocks of the regular slaves were not held against their abdomens by
pretty ribbons, but stood free with only a pink ribbon behind the
cockhead as decoration. Each slave had to withstand fifteen minutes of
intense stimulation by the best cocksuckers Mommy's house had and do it
twice a day and at their third failure they were be castrated. These
stimulation sessions usually involved a great deal of moaning, followed
by first begging and pleading and then screaming for the maid to stop,
please stop. And sometimes, not infrequently, a period of crying and
begging for mercy would follow as the slave who had cum for the third
time was taken away to see Mommy; a meeting which at best cost her only
her balls.

Once the maids had finished sucking the regular sissy slaves' cocks,
leaving a line of moaning and whimpering sissies with very, very excited
cocks, they of course had to perform just like the others. Only as maids
they were held to higher standards than the regular sissies and had to
withstand twenty-five minutes of cocksucking. This was always achieved
by a very intense sixty-nine between the two maids, a show so arousing
that the guards usually turned up in force, fucking the other sissies as
they watched the maids go at it.

The pink bitch and her newfound sister turned out to be an unusually
well matched pair and their live performances of such intensity that
Mommy intensified her number of appearances to watch them. The pink
bitch was of course unable to cum and the other maid was unusually well
trained and disciplined as well as sexually inventive, often using her
hands to great effect since the maids were not bound by the usual
conventions when going at it. The effect was not only a great
cocksucking show, but a show encompassing a great deal of fondling,
fingering and even something which could be called fisting. The result
was always two completely spent maids, panting with excitement and
barely able to see straight once the twenty-five minutes were up.

Life as the pink bitch, and indeed as a regular sissy, was challenging
even without the two daily stimulation session. The maids got up before
five in the morning, first waking up the other sissies, and then began
the day's grooming rituals. Mommy demanded perfection and this took up a
great deal of time each morning; hair removal, shower, brushing teeth
(in the pink bitch's case her dentures), newly washed clothes worn
perfectly, decorations (not jewelry or such but mostly pink ribbons and
bows) placed equally perfectly and of course perfect make-up. This was
followed by a tiny breakfast (Mommy liked skinny sissy bitches),
followed by more oral hygiene and reapplication of make-up before the
sissies were finally able to wake up Mommy; something always done with
trepidation.

If Mommy was in a good mood she would only pull the one waking her up
down to her, make that maid drink her urine and then have sex with her;
either forcing the maid to eat her or forcing her to fuck her using the
sissy's overworked and overexcited cock and invariably making the sissy
cry with frustration (if it was the pick bitch doing the fucking) or
scream and beg (if it was the other maid). That was if Mommy was in a
good mood. If she was in a foul mood things could be much, much worse.
The pink bitch and her sister were both strangled to the point of
actually dying from it on a number of occasions, only waking up hours
later. Mommy might also engage in brutal testicle torture, fierce
whippings and even the breaking of fingers and toes just for fun.

Pleasing Mommy - not pleasing Mommy was the worst thing in the whole
world - took on many forms. Apart from acting like a completely
sissified bimbo, exaggerating every little feminine movement and gesture
to a nearly ridiculous degree, the pink bitch and Mommy's other slaves
frequently had to humiliate themselves in front of guests, asking to be
please be fucked, fisted, beaten or such and doing so with eager eyes
and displaying all the signs of a bitch in heat.

Then there were the ball busting sessions, of which Mommy was so fond.
The unlucky bitch would be tied down in Mommy's bedroom, usually on all
fours her arms and legs secured to the legs of a purpose built frame. A
bucket would then be placed in front of the sissy to catch the vomit
that the sissy would inevitably produce. Then Mommy took up position
behind her victim and began. Usually she began by kneading the balls
together; gently at first, then with ever increasing pressure until the
sissy screamed. Then a pause would ensue so that the balls became more
sensitive as blood rushed in. Once this was accomplished she would
continue with whichever torture she has chosen. A favorite was grabbing
a testicle in each hand and then squeezing them as hard as she could,
making the sissy count out loud, usually screaming out the count until
the words were lost and there was just screaming or retching. Slapping
and kicking were also favorites and of course there were also the many
instrument assisted kinds of testicle tortures to be performed. A simple
riding crop was a fantastic instrument for beating and Mommy had also
invented special air filled bladders to apply pressure to one testicle
at a time.

Needles were of course useful, although Mommy mostly used them for shock
effect as few things matched beating and squeezing with regards to
testicular pain. Of course needles could be used for effect on the
victim's cock, where squeezing often produced the opposite of the
desired effect.

When a sissy had cum three times, or had simply caught Mommy in a foul
mood, she was taken to the testicle torture frame. The torture sessions
leading up to a sissy's castration were much longer and much, much more
brutal than regular testicle torture sessions and often they spun out of
control as Mommy lost what little restraint she had and mangled the
sissy almost to the point of her actually dying of her injuries. And
sometime not even stopping there.

If Mommy stopped in time the sissy would leave Mommy's bedroom crawling
(standing up would be too painful), her balls barely recognizable globes
of swollen, lumpy, purple flesh. Around their scrotums a thin black wire
would be wound several times very, very tightly and tied off. This would
then be left in place until the balls died and fell off. The process was
excruciatingly painful for the first day or so (and the sissy would be
tied with her hands behind her back so she would not claw at her broken
sex) after which the testicles would turn black and loose all feeling.
Gradually they would then shrink and begin to smell putrid and rotting
until they eventually dried out and shriveled completely. Not long after
this they would simply fall off. Occasionally the crotch of the sissy
would become infected and require treatment, but in most cases the tiny
black sack would simply fall off as would the wire that had cut off the
blood. Mommy's men would then do some simple trimming of the dead flesh
with a scalpel and the sissy would be ready for sale.

During this whole ordeal, except for the first day or so, the sissy
would be required to perform her normal duties as a house maid and sex
slave. The exception was of course that she now didn't have to
participate in the twice daily drugging and sexual stimulation. Since
the sissy would now be without the drug which had kept her horny and
stupid, most regained a measure of mental clarity. While castration
tended to make them more docile, some of the newly castrated sissies
suddenly found an appetite for escape. These were quickly spotted by
Mommy's men and soon the unfortunate could be seen performing her duties
chained hand and foot, often gagged and frequently "enjoying" increased
attention from these hard men. The guards all shared a fetish for
castrated sissies and once a sissy had been banded she usually got more
and not less sexual attention from them.

Once her crotch was smooth and healed the sissy would be put up for
sale. While most were glad to escape their cruel, volatile and brutal
mistress they were also very nervous about their future owners. And with
good reason. Slaves such as themselves usually ended up with the most
brutal of owners. Some of course ended up with owners who merely wanted
a soft and pliable sissy to control and have mostly vanilla sex with,
but these kinds of masters and mistresses usually found the slaves in
legal ways and lived in consenting relationships. The ones who acquired
their prey illegally were usually of a much more brutal nature and most
had short, painful lives after leaving Mommy. Much like life as Mommy's
slaves.

As with her time with Daddy, life at Mommy's house was mostly routine.
Brutal, demeaning, subservient, painful, arousing and unfulfilled, but
set as a series of routines nonetheless. After the morning rituals and
if she had not been injured by Mommy during morning sex - this happened
alarmingly frequently - the pink bitch would then spend her day waiting
on Mommy if she was at home or supervising and helping the regular
sissies if she was not.

If Mommy was away she would usually give a blowjob to the huge blonde
hunk of a guard who loved her talented lips and tongue. He would always
start by grabbing her from behind kissing the nape of her neck, let his
hand find her erect cock and manipulating it while whispering in her ear
what a sexy bitch she was. This would invariably make her moan with
passion and throw her head back against his strong chest. He would then
turn her around and kiss her and fondle her body like a real lover,
still whispering sweet things in her ear. She would always coo with
pleasure at this, squeaking that she loved him and wanted him so badly -
all of which were entirely true. After a period of fondling he would
tell her to blow him and she would, keeping strictly to the regular
house policy regarding blowjobs and do everything with her mouth,
leaving her hands behind her back - or if he so requested - behind her
head. She would look up at him adoringly as she used all of considerable
skill manipulating just the head of his cock and she would greedily
swallow his wonderful load as he deposited it in her mouth while holding
her hair. Once she had cleaned up his cock and put his underwear and
trousers back on using only her toothless mouth, he would give her cock
an affectionate squeeze and leave her feeling pleased yet unfulfilled.
As always.

On the days Mommy was away, the attention of another guard, an even
bigger man than her blowjob lover, would also be nearly guarantied. He
was a man she feared nearly as much as she feared Mommy and yet she
looked forward to his affections every time Mommy left the house. The
man was tall, broad, burly and dark haired with well-kept black beard.
He was an ass man, loving to spank and fuck her inviting ass, but he was
also very fond of making her scream; something which he excelled in. The
pink bitch's testicles were the sole domain of Mommy, so the guards had
to use other areas of their bodies to torture and this one was very
inventive. Cock, nipples and the insides of the pink bitch's thighs were
just a few of the places where his attention could make her scream in
pain. And yet she loved it when he took her, looked forward to when he
would grab her, make her scream in pain and the finally and gloriously,
fuck her. The dark and burly guard with the beard fucked her ass like no
one else but Daddy had been able to. With his strong arms twisting her
own weak arms into painful positions and holding her securely in place
while his tool pumped in and out of her, the pink bitch would scream
that she loved him - and mean every word.

However, everything the guards might want to do to her paled to
insignificance compared to what Mommy did to her and her maid sister.

One Saturday morning right after the usual rituals were over and done
with, Mommy ordered the two maids into her bedroom. Both stood at
attention as the door slammed shut behind them. Both were very, very hot
and bothered, their now neatly tied, red, overworked and hypersensitive
cocks slick with saliva and pre-cum from their recently finished ordeal.
At Mommy's command both stripped until only their collars and their
heels remained. The maid wore her usual black, knee high stiletto boots,
with six inch heels and laced up the front, the pink bitch her seven
inch pink stilettos, two sizes too small, with an ankle strap and pretty
pink bows for decoration. Now free their cocks seemed to hunger even
more for attention, twitching rhythmically with the heart beat of the
two excited sissies.

"Did you know bitch", Mommy began addressing the pink bitch, "that your
sister here has the distinction of being the only maid I've ever had -
apart from yourself - who has never cum in my service after completing
her basic training"? The bitch curtseyed, as was customary before
answering, and squeaked: "Goddess, no Goddess. Goddess, please Goddess".
Mommy smiled patronizingly and said: "No I am quite sure you don't, but
you will after today, that I guarantee". The pink bitch shuddered with
fearful anticipation, but remained quiet. "You see bitch, you are either
going to make her cum or lose your balls trying". The pink bitch emitted
a small squeal of terror and the maid's eyes suddenly became very large
and fearful. A hint of anticipation crept into them too, but she denied
even to herself that she looked forward to cuming. Such a thought was
potentially devastating, since it opened the way for thoughts of how
having three good orgasms before castration might be preferable to her
current existence and that was surely the path to ruin, wasn't it?

Either way Mommy made the maid kneel, tied her thighs and lower legs
together so that she would remain kneeling and the used leather straps
to tie her wrists and elbows together. Her breathing quickened as the
pink bitch was made to stand on all fours in front of her and informed
that the usual house rules applied: no hands and only stimulation of the
cock head. Then Mommy leaned in close to the pink bitch's ear and said,
just loud enough for her sister to hear it too: "You have one hour to
make her shoot her load or lose your sorry balls. Give her a good show".
With that she started her timer and sat down on the floor right next to
them, positioned so that she could see everything. She was naked
herself, wearing only her thigh-high seven inch stilettos. Her presence
was not only frightening to both sissies, but also intensely arousing.
Not just because she was their owner, but because intense fear can be
sexy too under the right circumstances.

The pink bitch lowered her head and with a smooth move slipped her moist
lips slowly down her sister's cock head, letting her tongue follow as
soon as her lips reached the back of the cock head. The sound made by
the maid, a cross between a very passionate moan and a scream, combined
with the violent twitch going through her sister's whole body, told her
that she was going to win the contest. Her maid sister was already in a
state of high arousal from the morning ritual and Mommy's presence and
her demeanor had not worked to cool her off. Quite the opposite. The
task was by no means easy but after about half an hour the sounds and
movements from her sister began to get desperate. Five minutes later she
began begging and pleading and five minutes after that she shot her load
into the pink bitch's mouth, screaming so forcefully that she produced
no sound at all. Her mouth was wide open, her face red and all of the
tendons in her neck stood out, but no sound came. Her body almost
convulsed and she managed to jump nearly four inches into the air,
briefly pushing her tool deep into the pink bitch's mouth, even though
her legs were tied together as they were. The amount of cum was equally
staggering and had the pink bitch not been trained by Daddy, she would
have been unable to keep up with the flood. As it happened she was just
a very out of breath sissy as she eased her sister down after her
incredible high. The maid's body relaxed completely and she flopped
backwards, bonelessly landing on her strapped-together arms. Her body
continued to be wracked by orgasmic aftershocks for nearly ten minutes,
during which the pink bitch continued to suck her cock gently as it
regained its erection. As the aftershocks began to be replaced by
full-body twitches of a much more excited character, Mommy gently
ordered her to stop.

The pink bitch felt fulfilled in a manner she hadn't in years. She had
made Daddy and Mommy and many other dominants cum for years, catering to
their every need and whim and it had brought her great satisfaction, of
the psychological kind if not of the psychical kind. She had also made a
number of screaming and begging slaves cum, helping whoever owned them
to lead those slaves further down the path to destruction. In a sense
this was the same and yet it wasn't. Far from it. Her maid sister had
been Mommy's slave for quite a while and by all accounts she was of a
much stronger constitution than most of the others. This meant that the
pink bitch had just given her sister the first orgasm in almost two
years. And the pink bitch loved that sister of hers even if they fought
it out two times a day, desperately fighting to make the other cum
against her will. She loved fondling her and she loved being fondled by
her, but most of all she loved her kisses. The pink bitch loved the
maid's kisses, kisses that the both of them stole from each other every
time they could. And now she had been able to repay her sister - even if
it was at the threat of losing her own balls.

As the maid was freed from her bonds, the same sensation showed on her
face too, but there was something else there as well. A certain
hardness, coldness, as if she also wanted to get back at the pink bitch,
wanted to hurt her for what she had done to her. Mommy certainly saw it
too and whispered into the maid's ear as she freed her: "Easy pretty,
now it's your turn. You are going to do that bitch so good". Mommy's
words made the pink bitch shudder with fear but as usual she could do
nothing but wait for Mommy's perversion to strike her with full force.

After releasing the maid from her bonds Mommy proceeded to bind the pink
bitch. It was a quite simple tie: a strap went through her armpit and
around her lower arm, trapping it against her upper arm and leaving her
hands sticking out uselessly. This done Mommy turned to the maid again
and equipped her with a monstrous strap-on; a giant, black thing made
from hard plastic and full of ridges and knobs and mounted on an
intricate harness, complete with an integrated, violently vibrating plug
for the one wearing it, securing it to the maid's lower body. The
strap-on was hollow and the maid's overworked, but still terribly
frustrated, cock rested inside in a cavity filled with warm gel. She
would never be able to produce enough friction to cum, but the warm gel
surrounding her cock would provide low-level stimulation as well as a
constant, if vague, reminder of real pussy.

Dragging her two helpless sissies along Mommy set up the next bit of
play. She sat down in or on something looking like a gynecological
examination chair, complete with stirrups for her feet. Only this one
was obviously specially built, designed to look good and with a
luxurious leather seat. It also had an electric motor drive for
positioning the seat at exactly the right height. Mommy used this
feature and positioned herself so that she was at optimum fucking-height
for the pink bitch, who was then instructed to slide into Mommy's
waiting pussy. The sensation was, as ever, fantastic and the bitch
moaned with passion, her cock already twitching uselessly. Next the maid
pushed her massive strap-on into the pink bitch's exposed and vulnerable
ass, changing her moans to a protracted scream. Once in, both were
instructed to begin fucking, only the maid was to fuck the pink bitch
out of sync with the bitch's own fucking of Mommy. That way the pink
bitch pushed into Mommy while at the same time the strap-on was pulled
nearly all the way out of her and on the return stroke, as she pulled
nearly all the way out of Mommy, the evil strap-on was forced all the
way into her.

Not only did Mommy writhe in clearly displayed passion as she moaning
approached her first orgasm, both sissies made sounds putting their
arousal on display. The pink bitch alternated between moans of passion
going in and the screams of the violated as the strap-on went into her.
Just before Mommy came, she instructed the maid: "Break the bitch right
little finger when I tell you. Wrench it outwards at my command." The
pink bitch barely had time to let this command sink in before Mommy
said: "Now slut!" and the maid twisted the bitch's little finger
viciously out until it snapped in at least two places. The pain was
instant and coincided with a thrust into Mommy's cunt and as she
screamed her head off in pain she distantly registered Mommy writhing in
passion, scratching her shoulders as she came for the first time, her
eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. The pink bitch was frozen, her cock
inside her evil owner as she tried to cope with the pain and soon came
the sensation of the strap-on sliding quickly and forcefully into her at
Mommy's command as the maid trapped her in position. While the pink
bitch screamed in pain and Mommy jerked violently as the orgasm
continued to wrack her body, the maid bit into the pink bitch's shoulder
further adding to the pain. The moment stretched forever, but finally
the pink bitch had been reduced to sobbing and Mommy's orgasmic
twitching had died down.

Then Mommy ordered her slaves to resume the same rhythm as before. The
pink bitch had nine more healthy fingers...

Three hours later, after nine more of Mommy's orgasms, the pink bitch
was nearly screamed out, her ass felt like a gaping hole and her cock,
still hard and needy, felt like all the skin had been worn off. All of
her fingers were broken in several places and stuck out at strange
angles from her hands.

Both sissies and their owner were completely covered in sweat; close to
exhaustion. But Mommy wasn't quite done with the pink bitch yet. With
the maid now positioned between her legs for oral service Mommy released
the pink bitch's arms only to begin breaking them. The pain went from
unbearable to unbelievable and the pink bitch had to be brought back to
consciousness several times during the process, but after one more hour
and several more of Mommy's orgasms, her arms were yet again tied, this
time in an impossible backprayer cutting off all blood supply to her
hands and most of her arms.

The pink bitch was also pretty badly beaten, her face and upper body
full of bruises and scratches and she nearly wet herself when Mommy even
looked at her. She had been afraid of Daddy: terribly, horribly and
overpoweringly afraid of him; a fear which had come to dominate her
entire existence and force her into a sick and twisted version of love
and lust for the man. But Mommy was something else, something far worse,
far more frightening. Looking into Mommy's face the pink bitch, even
with her damaged mind and heavily reduced mental capabilities, saw pure,
undiluted psychotic rage; evil of proportions she had never encountered
before.

As she lay on Mommy's floor, her broken arms slowly dying and her nose
and lips bleeding from repeated beatings, Mommy went ahead and confirmed
every fear that the pink bitch had about her: Sweating and trembling
with exhaustion she called for one of the other sissies. The poor slut
wet herself with terror when she was the look on Mommy's face, but she
nonetheless knelt obediently as ordered. Then Mommy dragged the pink
bitch over to her by her hair and hissed into her face: "I want to break
a set of balls tonight you worthless piece of slave meat; hers or yours.
This one already has had two orgasms so one more will push her over the
limit. You have half an hour or yours go instead". Exhausted, in pain
and utterly terrified the pink bitch still knew that this was the time
to perform the extraordinary and soon she was sucking the poor sissy's
cock for all she was worth. The first sound the other sissy made when
the pink bitch took her cock into her mouth was a sharp intake of breath
followed by a long, deep moan of lust. For a couple of minutes there was
nothing but heavy breathing as the pink bitch, kneeling and held up by
her collar by the maid since she couldn't use her arms, worked the
sissy's cock the best she knew how. Then she truly began to see where it
was headed and the pleading began; high-pitched begging, desperate
squealing for mercy and finally wordless babbling as she lost control
and convulsed violently, shooting a staggering amount of cum into the
pink bitch's mouth.

What followed the sissy's third and final orgasm was yet more screaming
and begging as the maid and the pink bitch sat tied up on the floor
watching Mommy castrate her. The sissy was first tied down so that she
stood on all fours, her arms and legs tied to a stool on which her body
rested. A bucket was placed in front of her face and then Mommy went to
work: First she pulled the balls out from the sissy's body and slapped
them hard - very hard - a number of times, making the sissy scream.
Still holding them, she let the sissy recover a little before resuming.
Second time around she slapped them twice as many times as the first and
the third she around she doubled the amount of strikes yet again. As
Mommy let her balls drop the sissy's balls began to swell and gain
color, first red, the deep red. The sissy was already begging to be let
off the hook, for Mommy to simply cut them off and to be free of the
pain. Not a chance.

Next bit of torture was squeezing. Mommy grabbed a testicle in each
hand, enveloping the testicles completely, and then began to squeeze as
hard as she could; or very nearly so. She had commanded the sissy to
count out loud while she squeezed, but when the poor girl reached twelve
she vomited violently as the pain became too much. Not deterred Mommy
let per puking finish and then resumed. The second time she reached nine
before vomiting, the third time seven and the fourth time only three.
Mommy then used a bamboo crop to beat her plump ass viciously while she
told her what a useless sissy shit she was. The sissy tried to scream
for mercy or forgiveness, but no real words came out as her balls
swelled to the size of tennis balls and turned a light purple color. Her
whipping arm getting tired Mommy returned to squeezing her victim's
balls again, but this with herself doing the counting. In the first
round she got to twenty before stopping, with the sissy dry heaving
already at the count of five. Second time around she got to thirty and
in the third round she got all the way to sixty-two before the sissy
finally passed out. Her balls were now the size of grapefruits and skin
utterly taut and deep purple. They were obviously broken in some places,
displaying a lumpy surface. But still Mommy went on. She fetched a
narrow wooden paddle with metal studs on the surface and began swinging
the fearsome tool directly into the crotch of the unfortunate sissy, who
now had to be brought back to consciousness after every round of
torture. And the paddle was only the first of a number of tools employed
before Mommy finally had enough and tied a thin, black wire around the
scrotum of the sissy as hard as she could and repeated the process four
times until her scrotum was simply a large, shapeless purple sack dying
in her crotch. By then the sissy was thanking her cruel and evil owner
for her kindness and she ate Mommy with extreme gratitude as her
destroyed balls died slowly in her crotch.

Finally Mommy had had enough and the sissies were released - sort of.
The newly castrated sissy was allowed to crawl out the bedroom and
resume her regular working schedule; the first day crawling and the next
days on her feet just like normal. There was no mercy for the damaged
sissy and she was used and abused just as badly as she had been before
Mommy took care of her balls. Over the days and weeks following her
castration, her balls withered, blackened, dried and shrunk until
finally one day they simply fell off. This was the signal that her life
as Mommy's slave was at an end. Mommy's men cleaned up the remains of
her scrotum and whisked her off to a no doubt cruel, brutal and short
life as some evil bastard's slave. Right before she was led away her
handlers put her in a very tight, black leather straightjacket, confined
her feet in black seven inch stiletto boots, filled her head with a huge
black ball gag and finally pulled a black leather hood, only open at the
nostrils, down over her head. Right before she disappeared inside the
hood, she looked pleadingly at Mommy, her eyes brimming with tears,
seemingly imploring Mommy to keep her even if the brutal psychopath had
busted her balls in the worst possible way.

As for the pink bitch, she was leashed to Mommy's bed and was allowed to
sleep on the floor as Mommy took the maid to bed for some relaxing sex -
and a bit of light strangulation - before sleep. The pink bitch lay on
the floor, her arms now nearly numb but filled with a deep ache coupled
with terrible pain in her shoulders, and listened to her maid sister's
desperate sounds of choking as she fell asleep. When she woke up all
feeling had left her arms, but her shoulders burned with pain. Indeed it
was the pain which had woke her up. Mommy was still asleep so making any
kind of sound was completely out of the question. The pink bitch had to
remain utterly quiet as she lay there on the floor, shoulders burning
and with a bladder filled to a painful degree.

Finally Mommy woke up and pushed a very groggy maid out of her bed. The
bitch's maid sister had very bloodshot eyes and a set of very prominent
bruises on her throat where Mommy's fingers had very nearly squeezed the
life out of her. She was clad only in her black high heeled boots and
her body bore the marks of yesterday's brutal punishment, though not
nearly as prominently as the pink bitch who looked every bit the
battered and beaten sissy girl she really was.

As Mommy swung her legs out of bed and stood up, the maid was quick to
assume a kneeling position so that she would be able to swallow Mommy's
acrid morning urine. After swallowing her gift the maid proceeded to
help Mommy with every little aspect of her morning ritual. Only after an
hour and a half of grooming Mommy was she commanded to take care of the
pink bitch. The orders were simple and terrifying: "Let the bitch pee,
giver her water, gag her, hood her, leash her and give her to the
guards. Tell them she goes to the doctor for arm removal".

It was one thing having her fingers and arms broken and tied in an
impossible position where they lost all feeling, feeling them die
slowly. It was another thing entirely to hear Mommy order the obvious:
their removal. The pink bitch uttered a scream of terror and lost
bladder control as she heard the fate of her arms. Then she uttered
another scream of terror as she realized that she had pissed on Mommy's
floor. But amazingly Mommy merely smiled down at her bruised and beaten
property: "Oh yes you useless slut", she purred in a voice so loaded
with evil that the maid standing by her very nearly pissed herself too,
"you are going to become an armless cocksucker and torture doll, unable
to even defend yourself from the other slaves. Such a pretty bitch; such
a worthless piece of flesh". She then turned to the maid and still in
her most catlike, purring voice said: "Clean that up you slut and get on
with it". Then, as if to punctuate her command, she brought her fist up
in a vicious underhand blow, hitting the maid squarely in the balls so
hard that she lay soon knelt on the floor, vomiting with pain. Mommy
huffed with derision and left the two slaves, her stilettos clocking
away across the hardwood floors of the hallway as she sought out some
other poor shit to torture for breakfast.

Moaning with pain the maid cleaned up both the piss and the vomit -
licking the floor clean of course - and then attended to the pink bitch.
No longer in need of voiding her bladder she gave the broken sissy some
water and the produced her restraints: A huge pink ballgag for her
mouth, a pink rubber hood open only at the nostrils for her eyes and a
leash for her neck. Helping and partially lifting the pink bitch up, she
accidentally grabbed her arms. The pain in the bitch's shoulders was
considerable but the bitch was completely unable to feel anything in her
arms. As a response she stared at the maid, her mouth a big round and
silent O of horror. Only then did it dawn on her just how damaged her
arms really were and that the only thing which effectively could be done
was their removal. Her maid sister tried comforting her with kisses and
gentle fondling but as the hood slipped over the pink bitch's face all
the maid could see was tearful horror. Inside her pink rubber cocoon,
her mouth stuffed to capacity, the bitch mind was nearly paralyzed with
terror. She was going to lose her arms! They were going to cut them off!
As she stumbled along blindly in her pretty pink stilettos, following
the gentle tugs on the leash as she was led to the guards, the pink
bitch was unable to comprehend just what was happening, just how low she
had been forced.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the memory that she had once been a
boy, a young man, a free young man!, surfaced in her mind. She hadn't
always been like this; she hadn't always been a completely subjugated
sissy - a slave girl with a cock really - but a real and free person.
Her damaged mind seized the thought and tried to hold on to it; tried
using the outrage that she felt to boost her. It almost succeeded. The
pink bitch was beginning a mental rebellion which had been repressed for
so long, when the memories - very, very vague memories - of her past
freedom chanced upon the fact that she must have had a boy's name. But
what had it been? What had her name been? Panic seized her now tiny and
very impaired mind. She couldn't remember her own name! The name she had
had when she had been a boy was lost! Who was she? Who was she?

Everything stopped. She came to an abrupt halt as she began screaming in
panic into her gag. The maid was forced to stop as her charge would do
no further, but simply stood screaming as loud as she could while losing
all bladder and bowel control in the process. Inside her hood the world
had disappeared as the pink bitch's mind tried to recover what had been
lost. Tried and failed. There was only a tiny and fading memory that she
had once been a boy and that that boy had been free, but she was unable
to remember anything else, even her own name! In panic she simply stood
screaming as loud as her gag would allow her.

Meanwhile the maid, unable to move her, had fetched the guards. The two
burly and brutal men who came to solve the problem laughed quietly when
the saw what the problem was. They had seen it many times before and
knew what it meant. It meant that one of the worthless shits had finally
realized some horrible part of his predicament and at the same time
realized that there was no way out. There were other options, but really
they were all variations on the same theme. They ordered the maid to
clean up the useless little screaming shit and once that was
accomplished one of them punched the pink bitch hard in the stomach - he
was forbidden to touch her genitals as they belong solely to Mommy - and
the bitch's screaming stopped as her air disappeared. Then one of them
lifted her up, slung her over his shoulder and carried her to the car
and drove her to the evil doctor.

Inside her hood the pink bitch continued to try to think; to grasp who
she was and to rebel against her current position. But her mind was
damaged and heavily conditioned and thinking about anything but pleasing
Mommy for any length of time was supremely difficult for her. Had she
been able to get something to latch on to, who she had been, her name,
for example, she might have succeeded. As it was her name was forever
lost to her, as was any meaningful grasp of what being a free person or
even a young man meant. It kept slipping from her; remained just outside
her grasp. It was so frustrating that she wept and yet she was still
unable to focus enough for her to hold onto it.

Instead the unwelcome image of herself as a sexy armless sissy slave
popped up in her head. She tried banishing it from her mind, tried
making her insistent erection go away or at least stop twitching with
arousal at the prospect, but instead another image took its place: the
devastatingly sexy image of herself kneeling utterly helpless, now
without arms even, sucking a big fat cock. She cried harder as she knew
her defeat. Gradually more and more sexual images flooded her mind and
less and less of her nascent sense of rebellion remained.

By the time she arrived at the doctor's clinic she was still sad and
still remembered why she was sad, but the details were hazy. She still
recalled that she had been a young man once and that she had had a name
and had been free, but while she had known these as facts before, they
now seemed distant and somehow unbelievable. Could she really have been
a boy? A young man? Surely she could never have been free? And a name?
Having an actual name seemed somehow too incredulous to be true. Still
the gist of it, if not the details, seemed basically true to her and it
made her very sad and also a little angry.

Soon, however, the pink bitch had other things to occupy her mind. The
doctor turned out to be a small, bald and portly and ever smiling man
with small round spectacles. Assisting him were a handful of gorgeous
nurses who looked at the kindly man with abject fear. The fact that it
was no ordinary clinic open to the public was clear at once. All the
nurses wore white, which seemed pretty standard, except all the nurses
wore full-body suits made from thin and supple white rubber. None of
them had even the slightest bit of hair except for eyelashes and even
their eyebrows were gone. The suits covered their entire head as well
their hands and feet and had no openings except at the face. This meant
that the nurses entered the suits via the face opening; a very, very
difficult process. It also meant that they were all diapered since going
the toilet during the day was out of the question. On their feet were
shiny, white stiletto shoes with seven inch steel heels.

Mommy's men had deposited her on the doctor's floor and removed her
hood. They had then unceremoniously told the doctor what the useless
shit was there for, explained to him that she was unable to cum in spite
of her permanent erection and that she had apparently been having some
sort of "sad-sissy-shit"-attack. The doctor smiled broadly when told of
all this and asked the two fine gentlemen if they would like a nurse to
fuck before leaving? Soon two very nervous and eager to please looking
nurses had left the room with Mommy's evilly smiling men. The pink bitch
was left alone with the small, fat and sadistically smiling psychopath
who would soon cut off her arms.

He advanced on her, still smiling, leaned forward slightly and grabbed
her elbow. Then he pulled her up to a kneeling position, making sure
that her shoulders hurt as badly as they possibly could, while never
breaking eye contact. The pink bitch screamed her lungs out behind her
gag, but didn't dare look away. The doctor gave off the exact same vibes
as Mommy and this scared the pink bitch more than she would ever be able
to express.

The doctor then removed her gag and simply pushed his surprisingly large
tool into her mouth. Judging from his size she would have guessed him to
have a small cock, but he was hung like a horse; both long and thick. So
thick in fact that she had trouble even fitting it into her mouth. But
in it went and soon a kind of terrified bliss settled over her troubled
mind. Yes, she was terrified of the evil doctor. Yes, she was horrified
that she was going have her arms cut off. Yes, her mind was in panic
over her realization of what she was and just how heavy a conditioning
she had been subjected to in order to become the useless creature she
was now. But God! How she loved sucking cock! She tried to focus her
mind on her outrage and sorrow, but it was simply impossible when she
had such a wonderful cock in her mouth. It dominated her completely;
dominated her face, dominated her horny cock and dominated her tiny
mind, pushing all else away while she sucked that wonderful pole.

When he had shot his massive load into her mouth and she lay on the
floor, waiting, her mind again began to focus on her anger and rage, but
as before the pink bitch found that both had been dampened further. She
was still angry and more than a little panicky about her lost name, but
the thought that maybe being a slave was good for her; that getting
caught and subjugated was right for her. However, she had no more time
to think about these things as two gorgeous nurses rolled a gurney into
the doctor's office. Not long after she had been helped up on the gurney
and suddenly the doctor stood beside her with a syringe, which he
proceeded to plunge into her leg. First came a feeling of weakness and
then the darkness followed.

Chapter 8: The helpless sissy bitch
When the pink bitch woke up she felt utterly weak and helpless; with no
strength left in her at all. She simply lay there with her eyes closed,
trying to remember what had happened. Her perception and memory of
things was very vague and she simply couldn't recall how she had gotten
to this point. After a long time she was able to open her eyes, but her
vision was still blurred and after a while she just closed them again
and slept.

Finally she woke up for real and her vision and what little was left of
her mind cleared, although she still had trouble remembering what she
was doing here and how she had gotten here. It looked as if she was in
hospital. The room she was in looked bright and shiny and very, very
clean. There were no windows but that didn't bother the bitch's tiny
mind. Instead she focused on her body, which seemed to be covered with a
crisp, white blanket. With satisfaction she noticed that she was wearing
her heels and that under the blanket her body was strapped down to the
hard mattress. Her erection, clearly visible beneath the blanket, was
also full, hard and throbbing - just like Mommy wanted it. The pink
bitch did wonder, however, how her arms were secured. So she looked down
first her left arm and then her right. For a while she just stared as
her tiny mind tried to comprehend what it had seen - and then she began
screaming.

They had taken her arms! Her arms were gone! All that was left was two
bandages. The nurses rushed in and saw that she was just freaking out
over her arm removal. Not that the pink bitch could do so much about it:
Her legs were strapped down with wide rubber straps around her ankles
and above and below her knees. Her torso was strapped down with the same
type of strap around her midriff and just below her now nonexistent
arms. Finally a broad, padded strap went around her neck and held it
pressed securely to her bed. All she could really do was to scream. And
scream she did. Scream and curse right up until the doctor arrived and
injected her with a sedative and the world faded to pleasant, but
unwelcome numbness.

A few hours later she shook the stupor off and began screaming again and
again she was subdued. For a number of days this was all that happened,
all she was capable off. She spent most of those days drugged, sleeping
while her arms healed. After an untold number of days and many more
instances of awakening only to begin screaming, the bitch's mind finally
got used to the thought of her having no arms. No longer screaming and
trying to twitch she was allowed to stay awake and brought up to a
sitting position, although her bonds remained in place. She was,
however, still very sad and the realization of losing her arms had
brought back her state of mental turmoil. If she could only remember who
she had been before, remember her name! But her name didn't come back
and neither did any meaningful understanding of what she had been
before. What did come back was her relative combativeness. The rebellion
was of course spotted instantly by the doctor and after a brief
telephone conversation with Mommy a cure was devised.

As the pink bitch lay in bed feeling sad and angry, her body healing,
two nurses entered. Without saying a word they flipped back her blanket
and one of them lubed up her hands, took a firm grip on the pink bitch's
erect cock and began to masturbate it. A supremely arousing shockwave
spread throughout the bitch's body and she tried as best she could to
arch her back in pleasure. A moan escaped her mouth and all thoughts of
sadness and rebellion were pushed to the very back of her mind. The
nurse kept up her expert manipulation of her cock for what seemed like
hours. The nurse looked exhausted and her arms movements were beginning
to slow as the bitch saw how sweat poured down her tormentor's face. As
for the bitch, her only thought was of how fantastic and how frustrating
it was for her.

Finally the nurse stopped her manipulations and in that instant, as the
other nurse moved her freshly lubed hands towards the bitch's cock, the
pink bitch's otherwise very limited mind saw what was happening: They
were going to keep her in a state of arousal until she had healed and
all thoughts of sadness and rebellion had been erased by the waves of
pleasure and frustration inundating her. They were going to erase the
last part of who she had been! Outrage welled up in her and she opened
her mouth to scream. What came out was a protracted moan of pure lust.
The other nurse had grabbed her cock and had begun her equally expert
manipulations. Arousal and frustration took over her mind and she was
once again placed in a state where no other thoughts could enter her
mind.

And so it went. Every time one nurse was spent another took over. Expert
mouths took over after expert hands and after a long, long time with
soft and warm mouths enveloping her cock, soft but firm hands took over
again. Distantly the pink bitch noticed an IV-drop with fluids and
nourishment was placed in a vein in her thigh, but it was strictly
secondary.

There were no windows in the room and there was no way for her to tell
time and even if she had been able to, it would have made no sense to
her. She had no meaningful concept of time; only her steadily
manipulated cock mattered. There was no sleep either. The IV contained
stimulants to keep her awake and the only things that changed in the
room were the nurses and the way in which they worked her cock. It went
on for days and days and days, although the pink bitch of course never
knew this, but eventually she was allowed to rest, to sleep.

The pink bitch who awoke after a long, long sleep was even more
diminished than the creature that had been brought to the clinic in the
first place; diminished physically and diminished mentally. Gone were
not only her arms but all sense of rebellion and all thoughts regarding
her past. If she had had the ability to think about such things, she
would have asked: "What is a past?" She could clearly recall Daddy's
complete and utter control and conditioning and indeed the inability to
cum which he had planted in her would never leave her, but the man
himself had become vague, a fading memory. The realization that she had
once been a young man was lost forever. As far as the pink bitch was
concerned she had been a bitch with a cock always. Mommy and her cruel
domination were also quite clear in her mind - especially the fear she
had of her.

But apart from feeling a bit weak and unsteady on her legs as a result
of her new balance, the pink bitch felt fine; as if something heavy had
been lifted from her mind. She had no idea what that might be, but then
again she had no need. Mommy would tell her what she should do. The only
independent thought left in the poor bitch's head was a strong need to
suck cock. It had been so long since she had had one between her lips
and she hoped fervently that the guard Mommy had sent to pick her up
would be so kind as to fill her mouth. She was not disappointed.

Once back at Mommy's place the pink bitch was given a new uniform: a
once piece suit, looking like a pink bathing suit, but with an
integrated corset. Its high cut exposed her long, slender legs to her
definite advantage and the corset, artfully hidden below smooth and
shiny pink silk, narrowed her waist down impossibly. The suit ended in a
high, silken clad plastic collar hiding her strangulation scars. The
suit had a giant integrated vibrating butt-plug and her cock was now
encased in a cocoon of thick and constantly vibrating pink rubber, which
was held to her abdomen with a single pink leather strap and powered by
the battery pack in her vibrating buttplug. On her feet were now pink
knee-high boots laced up the front and with seven and a half inch
stiletto heels made from steel and thinner than even the thinnest of
pencils.

Since she no longer had arms, her duties were no longer that of a maid.
Rather she became Mommy's little terror tool, constantly following one
of the maids around. Whenever Mommy or one of Mommy's proxies deemed it
necessary (or fun) she would kneel down in front of the designated
victim and suck her cock for a period of time or simply until the poor
sissy came; perhaps for the third time, thus losing her balls.

Now equipped with a sheath which kept her cock constantly stimulated,
her ass owned and monopolized by Mommy's monster plug, her only use was
blowjobs. The pink bitch had been a very, very good cocksucker before
the removal of her arms, but after the removal she did nothing else.
Blowjobs were her only remaining sexual activity - except for
occasionally fucking Mommy - and all cleaning and grooming duties, even
her own, were now of course handled by others. As a consequence she
became terrifyingly good at sucking cock. So good, that the twice daily
stimulation sessions for the regular sissies, which was now handled
exclusively by her, had to be cut down in time from fifteen minutes per
sucking to first ten minutes and since to seven minutes. Otherwise too
many sissies lost their balls too soon.

When Mommy wanted to terrorize one of the sissies she sent a maid with
the pink bitch in tow and soon that sissy was screaming for mercy, on
her way to a thundering orgasm. When not sucking sissy cocks, she sucked
guard cock. Sometimes she got to fuck Mommy, but now the maid whom she
had been partnered with before had gotten a new sissy as her fellow maid
and the pink bitch's days of being a favorite in Mommy's bedroom were
over. When not sucking cock she was now mostly just parked in a corner,
blindfolded and with her ears plugged, ready for use but otherwise
completely inactive.

The other sissies came to hate and fear her as Mommy's proxy but were of
course unable to do anything about it. Hurting her was out of the
question and all attempts by the poor sissies at getting back the pink
bitch by other means failed. The only other means they had - poor,
conditioned sissy shits that they were - was trying to make her cum. And
that was impossible, no matter how hard they tried. At one time the pink
bitch was cornered by no less than seven scared and frustrated sissies
trying to make her cum. With Mommy's implicit blessing in the guise of a
strangely helpful guard, they managed to remove her plug and her sheath
and soon they held her in a squatting position, with one sissy fisting
her while one sucked her cock, one sucked her balls, two kissed her
passionately and two more held her up. When they finally shoved the plug
back in, slipped the sheath on her cock and turned both things on while
dressing her, all the involved sissies, including the pink bitch of
course, were crying with frustration. The guards quickly grabbed all the
sissies and began a fuckfest since all who had been watching were
desperately horny. Mommy had the pink bitch brought to her so that she
could enjoy her overworked cock in her own very excited pussy. Watching
the show on the surveillance cameras had been very arousing.

The pink bitch had no sense of time passing and existed simply as a cock
sucking tool with no will of her own, no ideas of her own. When left
alone she simply stopped where she was, absolutely nothing passing
through her broken mind. Around her things changed as they must in a
household so dominated by a brutal psychopath like Mommy: Sissies were
being castrated at an ever quickening pace and more were being damaged
in other ways as well as Mommy's brutality increased day by day.

The maid whom the pink bitch had been partnered with had long been a
favorite of Mommy's and her resistance to cumming was legendary. But she
had cum twice now, both brought about by the pink bitch's talented mouth
and at the direct command of Mommy. Now her time was up. Mommy had not
exactly tired of her, but her bloodlust had now grown to encompass her
as well. One evening the pink bitch was led into Mommy's bedroom where
the maid was tied up. Mommy had already been working her over for a long
time and she bore the marks of many, many hours of brutal torture. She
was standing up, held up by a huge dildo pole in her ass. Her legs were
secured to the pole and all she wore was her seven inch stiletto boots.
Her arms had long since been broken and were now secured in a vicious
backprayer, never to be used again. Her entire body bore deep red welts
from whips, crops and belts and around her neck a special breathplay
corset had been tied. On its back was a screw and when this was
tightened her throat was constricted further. When the pink bitch came
in the maid's face was deep red and her tongue stuck out of her mouth,
already a bluish color. Her eyes looked ready to pop out and were very
bloodshot. Her breath came in wheezy gasps.

Her cock, however, was as yet unharmed as were her balls and she sported
a very proud and insistent erection, knowing perhaps that this was her
last chance. At Mommy's command the pink bitch knelt in front of the
tortured sissy and as Mommy eased the pressure on the maid's throat ever
so slightly so that she wouldn't faint at once, the pink bitch began
sucking for all she was worth, using all of her considerable cock
sucking powers. The result was a tremor running through the whole of the
maid's body as a strange and strangled sound of pure lust escaped her
throat. Her orgasm was not long coming. Perhaps she had dropped all of
her defenses or the torture had reduced her stamina or perhaps it had
even turned her on to the point where resistance was useless. Either way
the result was the same. With her eyes nearly popping out of their
sockets as all the muscles in her body strained and trembled, a high
pitched keening escaping her mouth and a shamelessly pulsing cock, the
maid came for the last time in the pink bitch's mouth, flooding it very
nearly beyond the ability of the bitch to manage.

The maid's last orgasm all spent Mommy went to work on her balls as the
pink bitch was forced to stand by and watch. Mommy simply tied a strap
around the bitch's ankles and warned her very sternly that falling down
was not an option an neither was looking away. So the pink bitch watched
as Mommy, after first removing the strangling collar so that the maid
could scream more freely, enthusiastically and very systematically
crushed the maid's balls until her scrotum was nothing but one huge,
bloated, deep purple bag of distended skin and the maid's screaming had
become a constant sound only occasionally broken by the sound of
desperate retching.

The standard course for Mommy at that point would have been to tie off
the scrotum and let the testicles wither and fall off by themselves.
However, Mommy was not only quite fond of the maid and loath to let her
go, but also in the middle of a period of extraordinary cruelty and
bloodlust. And the long hours of brutal torture had gotten her blood up.
Way up. First she dragged the pink bitch over by the dildo pole and made
her kneel. Then the pink bitch was instructed to begin eating Mommy's
pussy as she started the final act. Mommy lifted the helplessly
screaming maid off the dildo pole - using her broken balls as one handle
of course - and then kissed her deeply, holding her by the throat,
stopping her screaming as she filled the maid's mouth with her tongue.
Then, while the pink bitch licked her to a thundering climax, Mommy
tightened her grip on the maid's throat and lifted her clean off the
ground with her considerable strength. As her throat constricted so she
couldn't breathe, the maid began struggling futilely, her legs drumming
helplessly into the back of the pink bitch as her face grew darker and
darker and her eyes moved further and further out of her head, becoming
more and more bloodshot in the process. Finally she gave up and with a
couple of tremors shaking her body lightly and a stream of piss running
down the pink bitch's back she died while Mommy's whole body shook with
a massive orgasm, the evil psychopath's moaning filling the bedroom. Her
orgasm over Mommy simply dumped the body of her favorite maid on the
floor, kicked the pink bitch in the head with her knee so that she
landed helplessly almost on top of the dead maid, her face right next to
the bluish face of Mommy's latest victim. Her ankle still tied together
the pink bitch was unable to stand by herself (she had been trained to
do so with no arms) and so squirming/crawling were her only options for
getting away from the hideously contorted face of the poor dead maid.
Even in her diminished state the pink bitch was near panic from the
creepy proximity to the result of Mommy's bloodlust.

Eventually she managed no squirm away to a "safe" distance and she
managed to do so without screaming in panic or uttering other sounds
which might have caused Mommy to turn her wrath on her as well. The pink
bitch's mental capabilities were poor, but not yet gone and her terror
of Mommy was well grounded and used to guide her every step. Just as
Mommy liked it.

Chapter 9: New owner and the creation of an object
After disposing of her favorite maid Mommy's bloodlust did not abate as
one might expect, but rather increased day by day. What had before been
a regime of strict sexual domination based on fear now became an all out
regime of terror with Mommy letting her ever increasing bloodlust take
over. Sissies were beaten severely, Mommy punching them until they bled
and passed out, something which had never happened before. Castrations
became much more common and attempts at proper training were dropped as
Mommy went through sissy slaves at a much quicker pace than before.
Mommy's behavior became erratic, becoming prone to fits of strange and
hateful babbling and other oddities.

The end came abruptly. One morning her maids found her dead in her
bedroom, apparently from a stroke or something similar affecting the
brain. She was found in bed, dressed in heels as always, with her arm
embedded in a poor sissy's ass. The sissy had been fisted to death by
Mommy's final death spasm, which had sent her arm into the sissy's ass
all the way up to Mommy's shoulder.

When the guards were notified, they shut all activity down. The sissies
were all chained hand and foot and placed in storage in the basement of
the house. To prevent even the hint of rebellion all were gagged and
blindfolded and secured by their collars to various points in the room,
but first all were given an extra large dose of the red mind numbing
drink to make them extra horny and stupid for an extra long time.

The sissies stood waiting for almost twenty-four hours, given no food or
drink and no potty breaks. So when the guards had finished cleaning up
the house above, divided up the loot and found new owners to the sissies
no of them wanted for their own, they opened the door to a room smelling
of waste and filled with thirsty sissies. The only good thing was that
all were too scared and still too horny and stupid to object and simply
stood passively - if trembling - by, waiting for their fate to be
decided for them.

The pink bitch was one of the first to go. Stripped of what little
clothing she wore, she was gagged with a giant blow-up gag, hooded with
a thick rubber hood and tied up, ankles and knees, before a guard
carried her out of the house and deposited her in the trunk of a car.

After a long drive, during which she mostly slept, the car stopped and
she was lifted out of the trunk. She felt herself being slung over a big
man's shoulder and then she was carried for some distance before being
dumped on a cold tile floor. Her hood was removed and after her eyes had
adjusted she saw that she was in yet another dungeon, this one very
simple. The room was not that large, perhaps twenty feet by twenty feet
and with a relatively low ceiling. All surfaces, except the door, but
including the ceiling, were covered with shiny white tiles. Strong and
harsh fluorescent light filled the whole room with an inescapable white
glare, almost to the point of eliminating the shadows even. Above her
stood two men, both completely unknown to her. One was a truly enormous
body building type, nearly seven feet tall, with platinum blonde and ice
blue eyes. He was dressed in an all leather outfit and when she saw him
the pink bitch's very first thought was that she'd love to suck his
cock. The other man was about half a foot lower, but also very
powerfully built. Whereas the giant looked to be around twenty-five,
this man looked about forty with graying black hair. Unlike the giant he
was dressed in an obviously expensive black suit over an equally
expensive black turtleneck sweater. He looked very much like a man in
charge. He bent down over her and slapped her face once and introduced
himself as quite simply her new owner; no name or other designation.
Owner. He also explained that he owned a club where she would spend the
rest of her life being tortured and fucked. He did not ask what she
thought of this and his words left no openings for questions or comments
of any kind.

Then the giant pulled her gag out and yanked her into a kneeling
position with a firm grip on her hair. And then she was finally allowed
to do what she had wanted to do ever since her hood had been removed:
blow the sexy giant. She threw herself at the task eagerly and soon her
eyes were closed as her talented, toothless mouth went to work in the
giant's equally gigantic cock. It was wonderful, everything her tiny
bitch mind had hoped for. It was good for the giant too; surprisingly
good. The pink bitch's skills in the blowjob department had not been
communicated properly so after a few minutes of obviously surprised
moaning he grabbed her head with both hands and came massively in her
mouth, clearly surprised at the turn of events. The Owner stood by
laughing at this turn of events. Then he remarked: "You'll make a fine
object for the club". Then he turned and left the pink bitch in the care
of the giant.

Only the pink bitch's days as a bitch in the feminine sense of the word
were over. The club, ominously named "The Slipknot", was a club for
brutal sadists and the slaves of the club were neither male nor female,
but rather objects. This meant that apart from things such as pussies or
cocks and balls or breasts, the slaves were strangely sexless, or rather
a mix of sexual characteristics. First of all none had any kind of hair,
except for eyebrows. Secondly, none had any teeth. Thirdly all wore at
least seven inch stilettos and fourth all were corseted and collared.
This meant that the transition was almost easy for the pink bitch. She
simply lost her all of her hair and became the object simply with the
addition of a set of ankle high, shiny black seven stiletto booties, a
narrow black and very constrictive corset and finally a tight, black
collar. In a matter of hours the pink bitch became the object and thus
no longer referred to as "her" but as "it".

Its daily routine changed a great deal and yet it was of course merely
more of the same it had been doing for years. Instead of following a
couple of maids around and blowing whoever she was ordered to by Mommy
or one of her proxies, it now stood chained at the bar of the club,
naked, bald and in heels. A short chain was clipped to her collar and
secured to a brass rail about ten inches below the bar itself. This
meant that it had to stand bent over forward with its face a few inches
above the polished wood surface of the bar, waiting for one of the
club's patrons to do something to it.

Often this something would be a brutal fuck from behind, or a simple
blowjob performed at the bar while the patron sipped beer. Other times
it was taken to one of the private dungeons in the club, all white tiled
rooms meant for serious torture, and subjected to brutal and protracted
torture sessions. However, it was already a well used slave, so the most
brutal of tortures were often done to slaves which were far fresher and
thus more interesting to torture and who had more limbs to lose. It was
favored among those who loved blowjobs as there were very few slaves in
the club who could match its skills in that department.

The slaves of the club were predominantly former males who had now been
turned into sexless feminized object, although surprisingly few were
actually castrated. All of them, except for the new addition, had severe
and unbreakable chastity devices locking up their cocks for good but of
course the new object had no arms, so masturbation was not a concern. A
few of the slaves were former females and these shared one common
feature: their clitorises had been removed and their pussies had been
sown permanently shut. While the ex-males were mostly miserable and
horny, the ex-females were mostly just miserable.

The new object adjusted quickly. It engaged in its favorite activity
nearly all day, every day: blowjobs. When it was not being used it did
not spend the hours bemoaning its fate or thinking about what came next.
It simply stood passively by with either nothing at all in its head or
visions of magnificent cocks penetrating its every orifice. Only the
outright torture sessions did it fear, but it did not have the mental
capacity to foresee them or worry about them before it was taken to one
of the shiny dungeons for use.

When the objects were not in use they were put into storage. For most of
them this meant being forced to crawl into tiny horizontal holes lined
with heavy rubber in a giant wall, none bigger than a coffin, and having
a heavy steel hatch closed behind them. Claustrophobia affected all of
the objects at one point or the other, locked as they were in a
completely dark and completely soundproof coffin sized space and for
most it took some weeks before they were able to sleep properly. For
slaves being punished the cells' rubber lining was inflatable and so the
occupant of the cells could be squeezed with inches of their lives and
left there for extended periods of time.

The slaves all slept with shoes, corset and collar on. When let out of
the cells they were marched into an adjacent toilet area to relieve
themselves and receive a sponge bath, administered by their fellow
objects. Only once a month did the shoes, corset and collar come off for
cleaning and soon the objects would find that they could not stand
flatfooted and could not support either back or neck properly without
the aid of corset and collar. This discovery was invariably followed by
a short period of panic, which in turn was severely dealt with by The
Owner and his guards. Brutal fuckings and random punishment was the
order of the day, whether a slave had behaved or not, but if they did
behave the guards were likely to beat them a little less.

Food was administered once a day, right before the slaves were forced
into their cells. Since none of them had any teeth a large portion of
disgusting slop was simply injected directly into their throats. That
way none could refuse and feeding was simple and speedy.

One day (or night, there was no natural light whatsoever so the object
never knew what time of day it was) it was taken to a dungeon in which
The Owner waited. Unlike most patrons of the club he was not only an
experienced and evil sadist, but also a man who enjoyed extreme and
sophisticated torture of slaves where others didn't. The object had for
the first year or so of its slave existence in his club, been used
mostly for more or less straight sex, blowjobs mostly, as it was already
too damaged for most patrons to spend too much time torturing it. There
had been some testicle torture and one evil man, when he had found out
about its inability to cum, had set a whole slew of other slaves to blow
the object without pause for a whole week. But these had been the
exception. Up until the point where The Owner called it into the dungeon
it had actually had a relatively relaxing life compared to how things
had been at Mommy's.

The object immediately dropped to her knees and leaned forward to kiss
its Owner's feet. The Owner was dressed in black leather from the tips
of his boots to neckline of his leather shirt. It was tight fitting and
had an expensive sheen to it. The Owner's graying black hair was cropped
short but stylishly and his black eyes shone with sadistic delight at
the mere sight of his prey. Even the much diminished object could see
that it was going to be a very painful session just by looking at him.

The object thought right. The Owner was not a man of many words and he
did not believe in explaining, especially not to slaves. He simply
reached down and grabbed the ring on the front of the object's collar.
Using only this he pulled it off the floor and carried it, feet dangling
more than a foot and a half above the floor, to a dildo pole mounted in
the center of the room. Here the object was deposited, the huge,
polished brass cock sliding easily into its well used ass. Where the
dildo met the pole there was a narrow bar on which the object could sit,
albeit very uncomfortably. Its stilettoed feet dangled a foot above the
cold tiles, as it squirmed uncomfortably, but still submissively excited
at the prospect of being used by such a powerful and sexy man.

The first step The Owner took was to secure its legs to the pole so that
it sat more still and specifically that it kept its feet still. He
accomplished this by clamping a pair of broad steel cuffs, mounted on
the pole, around the calves of the object. Then he stood up and moved
his body right up next to that of his prey. With one hand he held its
armless torso tightly while he used the other to stimulate its
ever-erect and ever-needy cock all the while he leaned in and kissed it
deeply. It was magical. The object, its ass filled to capacity, its
mutilated body controlled utterly and its cock manipulated for the first
time in months, loved the kiss; loved The Owner. No matter what he did
to it, it would love him for this and just this. In one simple move The
Owner had claimed not only the body of the object, but its heart and
soul. The object would endure any torture and still love The Owner.

The need for all of its love came immediately. The Owner let go of the
object and went to fetch a pair of pliers. Heart filled with a mixture
of love and dread, the object saw The Owner kneel down at its feet.
After that it was only screaming, thrashing and retching with pain.
Working methodically The Owner pulled off its toenails one by one. The
pain very nearly made the object pass out several times but in the end
all of its long years of slavery helped it stay awake when passing out
would have been much more merciful. When all of its nails were gone The
Owner sprayed the open wounds with a mixture of disinfectant and
coagulant, an operation which was very nearly as painful as the removal
had been.

The Owner then stood up and grabbed his by now crying and helplessly
mewling slave as he had done before and soon its pain was a minor issue,
something on the very periphery of its attention as The Owner once again
kissed it. When he pulled away the object couldn't help but moan
passionately and say, in the lowest of tones: "Master, please Master.
Master, i love you Master". The Owner smiled at this and with a quick
and vicious backhanded slap to the object's face he said: "Of course you
do". In spite of the outrageous pain, or perhaps because of it, the
object loved The Owner even more than before.

The Owner, however, was not done with his object. He fetched two more
items to torment it with. They were cubic boxes, a little bigger than a
foot to each side, had a circular hole on the top and were hinged on one
vertical side so that they could open up and become two halves. The
object knew it couldn't bode well for it, but had no idea what was
coming. The Owner opened both cubes and then clamped them around the
feet of the object so that its feet were now wholly enclosed inside
them. The Owner then hooked the cubes up to a power supply and took a
remote control out of his pocket. The object stared at its evil Owner
with deep fear, but was too dumb to figure out what was going to happen.
The Owner smiled at its incomprehension and again moved to hold his
prey. He threw one arms around the object's shoulders, holding the
remote in his hand and using his arm and wrist to hold the object
securely in place. The other hand he used to grab the objects cock and
begin manipulating it with exquisite slowness. The object leaned its
head back and moaned as it stared up at the evil man holding it. Then
The Owner pressed a button on the remote and the inside of the cube
holding the object's left foot began to compress around it ever so
slowly. The object's mouth and eyes formed huge O's of terror as it
realized what was about to happen. A very limited but desperate shaking
of its head further indicated its fear, but it could do nothing as this,
the latest of the evil psychopaths ruling its life, cruel man gradually
crushed its left foot.

For the first few seconds it was merely an increase in pressure and
nothing too painful or alarming. After about half a minute this changed
and the object began to scream as the bones in its foot began to break.
The object tried desperately to thrash and jerk, but The Owner held it
tightly, held its eyes too, so in the end all that was left was for it
to scream and eventually dry-heave. Its stomach, which had been nearly
empty when The Owner started on its foot, was utterly empty. To the
terrible sound of cracking bones The Owner held his victim's gaze while
manipulating its cock all the while. The object's screams were only
interrupted by desperate dry-heaving and yet it managed to look up at
its tormentor with a horrible mixture of fear and love; of terror and
arousal. When the left foot was completely crushed The Owner did the
same to the right foot and here finally and mercifully the object passed
out as the last bone in its foot was pulverized.

When it came to, a strangled scream escaping its lips, its feet were
free of the terrible cubes. Looking down on them the object thought that
the feet looked almost normal. Almost. There were no bones splinters
penetrating the skin and the toes all pointed in the same direction,
which was roughly downwards as normal. But they looked terrible; swollen
beyond recognition and steadily gaining a deeply purple color. Their
shape was also off. They looked like crude models of feet made by a
deranged child; all misshapen, swollen and bruised. They were beyond
repair.

But then again repair was not what was on The Owner's mind. After first
doing his hold, kiss and manipulate routine on his helpless prey, again
making it moan and cry with misplaced love, he fetched yet more to cause
it pain: a pair of ankle high ballet boots. And no ordinary ballet boots
they were either. They were made from completely stiff, solid and
unyielding stainless steel. Each boot consisted of two halves connected
by a number of ratchets, so that they could be tightened and secured.
The object screamed with terror when it saw them, something which only
made The Owner smile even more.

The ballet boots were of course much, much too small for the object's
feet in their current state or for that matter their previous state of
relative health, but again The Owner had a solution. The obvious
solution would of course have been to cool the feet down until the
swelling went down enough for the boots to be put on. But of course
cooling the feet would numb the feet as well, causing relief from the
pain. The Owner did not want the object to get off easier. So instead he
took a roll of non-adhesive rubber tape and began binding its feet;
winding foot after foot of it around its feet until they were compressed
down to the proper size. Of course the pain was unbearable for the
object, but that was how it should be. Then, when the feet had been
inside the rubber compresses for a while and the compresses had been
tightened a few times to achieve maximum compression of the hopelessly
damaged feet, The Owner moved one foot in position over a boot, cut the
tape off quickly, snapped the steel ballet boot down over the crushed
foot and tightened the ratchets until the foot was compressed even more
than it had been. He then repeated the process with the other foot.

The object was completely delirious with pain. The pain was so bad it
had trouble even screaming as its breathing nearly seized up from the
shock. It retched hopelessly, but there was nothing to throw up anymore.
It snapped in and out of consciousness, the pain being too bad to stay
awake and too bad to stay unconscious. The object was yet again inside a
complete and perfect nightmare, where escape was impossible and where it
was utterly unable to help itself in any way.

And it got worse still. The Owner now lowered the dildo pole until the
object's ballet boots rested on the ground and began to carry its
weight. The object could not scream any more or react stronger even if
the pain got worse, but it could try to lift its feet. This, however,
was also impossible as it was secured to the pole with bands around its
calves. These now served to hold its feet in place as the weight on them
was increased until it bore its own entire weight on its destroyed feet.
The dildo was still solidly embedded in its ass, but it no longer
supported it. To make sure that the object did not fall forward The
Owner brought up a second pole from behind to which a broad leather
strap was secured. This went around the object's chest, holding it
approximately upright.

The Owner stood back to admire his handiwork. The hairless, armless and
now permanently stilettoed slave object was literally out of its mind
with pain and writhed in it, trying desperately to scream, to thrash, to
do anything to relieve its plight. It tried and failed utterly.

And yet its cock was still stiff and throbbing. Laughing, The Owner sent
for two slave objects. The two entered with the utmost subservient of
attitudes, kissing The Owner's feet as they knelt to receive their
orders. Both were former males and both had been castrated and had had
their sorry cocks removed as well. They knelt trembling in their heels
before the man ruling their universe completely, terrified for what
would happen next. Their bodies bore the marks of his evil in the past
and the helplessly writhing slave behind them was a testament to how
evil he really was.

The two sorry objects need not have feared what would happen to them. As
it turned out The Owner made the first one blow the object with the
crushed feet while the second was made to gently suck The Owner's cock
under strict instructions to not make him cum before ordered to do so.
Both slaves were very much surprised that a slave should be blown until
they realized that being unable to cum, the blowjob was just another
layer of torture and degradation.

It went on forever. The object was trapped in a nightmare that now also
included hopeless, sexual frustration. The pain in its ruined feet
dominated its universe and yet a sharp thrust of deep sexual frustration
penetrated this cocoon of pain; not providing relief but rather more
discomfort. The Owner enjoyed the show thoroughly but after an hour of
watching the useless shit writhing he had had enough and made the object
kneeling in front of him, suck him to an orgasm. Then he left with the
two nullified formed males crawling after him. Some hours later the
object finally became so exhausted that it fell unconscious.

The object stayed on the pole for four weeks, until its feet had assumed
the shape of the boots permanently and the broken bones had set
sufficiently to bear walking.

After the fifth day the pain began to lessen somewhat and after the full
four weeks it had been reduced to an ache in its entire body due to the
fact that standing up for so long put an outrageous strain on its
system.

The waking hours on the pole were nightmares of pain, now extending to
its back as well since it couldn't lie down. Other objects came to feed
it and give it water and once a day it was lifted off the pole for half
an hour to be cleaned inside. After being deposited on the pole again
and its full weight again rested on its ruined feet, it was washed with
cold water and left to scream and moan on its own.

After the four weeks were over (the object of course no idea whatsoever
of time, locked in a nightmare of pain inside a room where the light
were never turned off) The Owner had another slave take off the armless
object's boots to clean and wash its feet. When the object saw the
result, it screamed in horror. Not only was every little fine detail of
the inside of the boots imprinted in its skin; the whole foot had taken
on the exact shape of the boot. Right down to the point of the boot
where the objects big toe, together with the toe next to it, had assumed
the shape of a very pointed cone.

Also, the toes had effectively fused together and after four weeks of
confinement it was impossible to separate them. The toes of course had
no nails either and this only contributed to the nightmarish appearance
of the feet. They didn't even look like feet anymore, but rather like a
skin colored replica of a ballet boot; minus the stiletto heels of
course.

After washing and drying, the also washed stainless steel boots went on
again and the object was again placed on its feet, but this time without
the pole in its ass. The pain in its feet had become bearable or at
least routine as had the terrible pain in its back from not being able
to lie down for four whole weeks. The object accepted them as simple
facts of life because it had been trained to accept everything, because
it had become too stupid to do otherwise and because it simply had no
choice.

It now had to learn how to walk again. Not only did it have to learn
walking in ballet boots, something it had never done before, but it had
to learn walking in very heavy and completely inflexible boots. Nor was
that all, because while most ballet style boots have a somewhat rounded
tip (at least the one slaves are actually meant to do some kind of
walking in) these had tips of both heel and the boot itself that had an
area of less than a tenth of a square inch; real points.

The process was very laborious and as a consequence very painful.
Walking in ballet boots is difficult at best and so one might have
expected that the object would fall down all the time, thus relieving
some of the terrible stain on its back, if only for a very short while.
This was, however, not the case as The Owner had decreed that this
particular object would spend the rest of its slave life standing up.
There would be no sitting down under any circumstances. Since this was
the case a harness was rigged for the slave, with straps around the
chest and crotch securing that that it could not fall down. To prevent
the object from hanging in the harness and thus get a measure of rest,
it was rigged with sensors and electrodes so that even the slightest
hint of the object hanging in the harness caused it to be shocked
violently.

So one nightmare was exchanged for another. For four weeks the object
spent every waking hour - eighteen hours a day, every day - training
walking in ballet boots and all mistakes, even the very minor ones, were
punished with electrical shocks to its entire body. All of it automatic
and all of it without the presence of another person or even a slave
object. The armless object stumbled alone for eighteen hours a day, at
the end of which two other slave objects came into the room, removed the
harness, force fed their armless fellow object, flushed waste out of it,
washed it in cold water and deposited it on the pole for about five
hours of "rest". All of it conducted in complete and utter silence.

In the morning two other objects came in to the room and did the same
again, only in reverse, and another day was spent learning to master the
evil footwear. After two weeks had passed a slight change was
introduced: The object was hooded, so that now everything had to be done
in complete darkness. When the four weeks had passed the object's form
was perfect. It had been four days since it had last been punished and
it was getting used to not only its new footwear, but also its new life
standing up all the time.

After a proper cleaning of the object and its steel ballet boots, it was
reintroduced to the club as an object for use. Standing leashed to the
bar, leaning forward all the time had now become far more difficult but
of course the object had no choice in the matter and failure to comply
with The Owner's orders was completely out of the question.

The object had now achieved a certain fetishy novelty status and as such
received a lot more attention than it had before The Owner had crushed
its feet. Not only was it fucked a lot more and used for blowjobs a lot
more, but far more people were now interested in beating it, shocking
it, strangling it or whatever kind of torture they happened to fancy.
The object loved the increased attention even when some evil bastard was
fisting its ass while squeezing its balls or using a plastic bag to
asphyxiate it. The object had long since reached the point where human
contact in nearly any form was good. Nearly any form. The Owner, whom it
loved deeply as a result of his simple manipulations, was not a man to
cross in any way and the mere thought of doing it made the object
tremble with fear. And made its mouth water with a hope of sucking his
magnificent cock.

The rule that the object never lie or sit down again posed a number of
challenges. First there was sleeping. Here The Owner could have opted to
keep it on the pole always when in storage, but he chose another path.
The object was instead stored using three D-rings anchored in a concrete
wall. Broad leather straps were tied around the object at mid-thigh,
upper torso and across the eyes. These straps were then fastened to the
D-rings in the wall using simple padlocks. That way the object had to
stand mostly on its own as the straps were placed so that hanging by or
in them wasn't much of an option and the D-rings were mounted so high it
had to stand at attention when the padlocks were locked for the night.
D-rings were also mounted mid-wall instead of in a corner, so the object
didn't have another wall to lean against either. The object simply had
to sleep standing up.

The same rule posed challenges when it had to perform its sexual duties
as well, but here too The Owner was kind enough to provide solutions.
Since kneeling was also out of the question, providing blowjobs had to
be done standing up. With no arms to use for help in balancing and in
footwear that was far from helpful it had two basic choices, none of
which worked. It could bend only at the waist and use the customer's
cock as a balancing point. This was of course unacceptable. The other
option was to squat down as low as possible and stick its ass out. But
with no arms this tended to make it ass-heavy causing it to topple over
backwards. The Owner helpfully provided a solution: a heavy steel
counter weight in the form of a large dildo. Carefully measured to be
just right, the steel dildo allowed the object perfect armless blowjob
balance when bending only at the waist. Needless to say the object loved
the dildo and it looked up at the cruel man with deep affection when he
shoved it up its ass for the first time.

Getting fucked also posed balance problems since throwing the object
across a table either on its back or its front was out according to the
new rule. There proved to be no way the object could be fucked face up
without it resting in some way so this was simply forbidden. For face
down, however, there was a simple solution: a noose hanging down from
the ceiling. That way the object could balance while being fucked and it
had the added bonus of getting it strangled all the while. The Owner was
a great man.

Chapter 10: The sexless object
The object had now been constantly hard but without an orgasm for more
than ten years and a slave for even longer than that, even if time had
long since stopped having a meaning for the object. The memory of Daddy
had faded now to the point that all that was left of his influence was
its perpetual inability to cum while being constantly aroused. All that
had been before Daddy was gone for good. The memory of Mommy still
lingered but very, very faintly and only as something that came to haunt
the object in its nightmares. It existed only in the moment; always
obeying without question and always glad when penetrated at either end
or when beaten by a wonderful Master or Mistress.

Three more years in the state of perpetual horniness passed. Then The
Owner again led his armless object into a white tiled torture chamber.
The object was giddy with love for The Owner and only its training kept
it looking submissively at the floor and not stealing glances at The
Owner all the time.

The Owner had yet again been gripped by an acute desire to hurt the
object and of course he had found a way. He had in fact over the years
reserved this for himself and kept those who had asked to do it from
performing it.

What The Owner wanted to do, was to castrate the object or rather he
wanted to destroy its sex. The object was as always completely unaware
of what was about to happen and stood hoping to be asked to suck some
wonderful cock.

First The Owner placed the object on a dildo pole. This one didn't have
a perch to sit on, so the object simply stood on the floor with a giant
steel cock in its ass. The Owner secured its legs to the pole with three
broad straps and then went to work.

He started by holding and kissing the object while manipulating its
erect cock, now entering its fourteenth year of complete orgasmic
deprivation and permanent arousal. The object whined with pure joy at
The Owner's undivided attention and as he pulled away it again chanced
to whisper how much it loved The Owner. As always the reply was a
forceful backhand slap delivered with a cruel smile.

Then Owner fetched a smooth tube, made from light brown, flexible rubber
about two feet long and a twelfth of an inch in diameter. The object
didn't understand anything but merely watched passively with a happy
smile on its face. Then it began moaning and squirming as The Owner
pressed the catheter tube down its erect penis and up its urethra. The
process was extremely uncomfortable, causing the object to squirm wildly
while it alternated between moaning and whining loudly. At last the
catheter reached the object's bladder and The Owner connected the
catheter to a tube, which in turn was connected to a urine collection
bag. The bag was hung from a hook hanging down from one of the straps
around the object's legs and urine began dribbling into the bag
completely beyond the control of the object.

Then the torture began. First The Owner focused on the object's cock.
Two copper bands were wound around its shaft, connected to electrical
wires and then the electricity began flowing. The object's desperate
screaming was punctuated by violent spasms in its abdomen as the current
wreaked havoc on its muscles. When the current stopped the object was
yet again a sobbing wreck, but of course The Owner was just warming up.
The next step was chili oil smeared on the objects cock head
supplemented by a sandpaper masturbation. What little stomach content
the object had came up and out and it started dry-heaving. When The
Owner asked the object it loved him, the object keened loudly and
desperately that it loved The Owner more than anything in the world and
asked him please hurt it as much as it liked. A barrage of brutal slaps
to the face was the reply for this impudent request that no slave has
the right to make.

The cock torture continued with a rough sandpaper rubbing of the
object's cock head followed by a reapplication of chili oil. The keening
had now turned into near constant screaming, occasionally interrupted by
dry-heaving. Then came needles and yet more electricity. When The Owner
was done hours later the object was very nearly unconscious from pain.
But of course there was a remedy for that too. A hefty injection of a
never-sleep substance woke the object up. The injection had the added
bonus of making the object's heart beat much quicker and inducing
considerable discomfort in the form of nausea and tremors throughout the
object's body. The object's attention restored, The Owner a pair of
elastrator thongs meant for banding the balls of sheep and other
livestock. He had, however, found some elastic bands that were much more
constrictive than the usual ones and he now, to the horror of the
object, proceeded to place three of them in close succession around the
very root of its cock, right where it met the abdomen. Then he stood
back to watch the first effects on his helpless victim. At first the
pain concentrated in the narrow area where the elastic bands were
placed, but soon it spread to the whole cock, which was of course
already aching from the extended torture session. The cock grew even
darker red in color, being already red and bleeding from many wounds,
and the bluish, deep purple and beyond. By now the object was screaming
its lungs out in pure unadulterated terror as it watched its cock die.

The Owner, however, was far from done. When the cock had turned deep
purple, he turned his attention to the object's balls. The first inkling
the object, which was completely occupied with screaming as it watched
its cock die in front of its eyes, had of what was going on, was when
The Owner's hands cupped its balls and began to knead them. The pain was
intense, sickening and unlike anything else. Even screaming was out of
the question as it tried to control its breathing. Tried and failed.
Stars appeared in front of its eyes and its gorge rose, ending it yet
another round of dry-heaving. Finally it stopped and the object was able
to breathe in and out in great heaving sobs.

When it got a little control over itself, it looked into The Owner's
cruel eyes, just inches from its own. It them it saw nothing but pure
evil, sadistic pleasure. Even in the object's diminished mind this
spelled deadly trouble and in a sudden and rare flash of insight it knew
that not only would it loose its balls, but also that this man had never
had any love for it, no matter what it had told itself. The Owner only
loved its screaming, its writhing and thrashing; its pain. It opened its
mouth to scream in terror; the scream of the damned. But no scream came
as The Owner cupped her balls again and began kneading.

Three hours later The Owner had kneaded its balls; he had slapped,
squeezed, punched, kicked, beaten, stuck needles through them,
electrified them in three different ways and pressed them beyond any
recognizable shape using four different instruments. Every time the
balls had tried retreating into the object's abdomen, The Owner had been
able to pull, squeeze, prod and coax them out so that they were now
grapefruit sized sacks of tight, bruised, battered and wounded skin,
bursting with extreme pain. The object was beyond screaming, its voice
long gone. It was completely delirious with pain, incoherent and only
still awake thanks to the evil drug The Owner had injected into it.

Its balls were of course long beyond salvation, but The Owner wanted to
do things properly so he once again took the elastrator. He used the
same elastic bands as before, but of course they now had to be pressed
down over something much larger and much more tender than before. But of
course he was up to the challenge and after nearly half an hour of
squeezing and pressing, accompanied by desperate gasps, moans and small
screams, the objects balls were banded at the root of the scrotum with
four heavy duty rubber bands. Again it watched as a part of its body
caused yet more pain, changed color and began to wither. The experience
very nearly cost it the few remaining grains of sanity, but in the end
it remained an obedient, pliant and docile slave object, subject to The
Owner's every last whim.

The Owner, who had been sucked by several terrified slave objects during
the torture session, was now done with the armless object. Resting was
of course out of the question for the object, so The Owner simply placed
it back on its feet, piss bag now attached to a strap tied around one of
its lower legs, and sent it back into the club's main room for use. Fear
and yet more of the evil drug were the only things preventing it from
falling over.

And in the club a great many of the patrons got very, very turned on by
the sight of the mutilated object. So much so that it spent the next
fourteen hours in a constant state of being fucked or sucking someone.
It had never had so much to do in all the years it had been in the club.
Cum flowed freely out of its ass and down the inside of its leg, while
its stomach looked visibly bloated from all the cum it had swallowed.
When it was finally strapped to the wall to "enjoy" a few hours of
sleeping standing up, the object was for all intents and purposes
already unconscious.

Over the next weeks the object's genitals withered, gradually becoming
black, dried lumps in its scrotal area. The smell was quite bad, but
many patrons found this amusing and enjoyed commenting on it as they
were blown by a deeply unhappy and humiliated object.

Finally, after weeks of misery, first the balls and then the cock simply
fell off. To the sweet sound of the object's crying The Owner pulled out
the catheter and removed the remains of the elastic bands along with the
few dried remains still attached to the object's scrotum. The object was
now completely nullified and had, apart from the scarring, a completely
smooth crotch with only a tiny pee-hole left where its genitals had once
been. Sobbing helplessly at its loss the object thanked The Owner
profusely, had the steel balance-dildo inserted in its ass and then bent
over to blow him as way of proper thanks. Deeply unhappy at the loss of
what had only been a constant source of frustration and pain for it over
the last nearly fourteen years, the object was calmed considerably by
having The Owner's cock in its mouth. Maybe it was for the best, since
The Owner surely knew what was good for it. The Owner was good and the
object loved him dearly as a proper slave should. Gone was the
realization that The Owner was nothing more than an evil sadist - like
all the people who had owned it over the years. The object was - and had
been for a long, long time - a slave only; heart and soul.

The object now again became a standard object for use in the club, one
of many sexless slave objects. Some had been female, but most had been
male since it was so much more fun to debase, feminize and emasculate a
male than a female. The males had much more anatomy to torture, much
more to lose in terms position and understanding of self and since both
sexes ended up looking pretty much the same, the preference and the club
was to torture males.

There weren't many armless slaves, only two in fact, and no other slaves
had had quite so extensive things performed on its feet, so the object
still attracted special attention for those reasons. It primary use
again became blowjobs and fucks, but soon many patrons developed a
penchant for whipping it severely.

As for the object, being nullified as it had been did seem to have some
positive effects. The castration had a calming effect on it and combined
with its cock removal it was no longer subjected to constant
frustration. There was no horniness, no unfulfilled desire. There was
now only the deep-seated desire to please; a desire every slave should
have and nurture.

The object lived four more years as a subservient, sexless object, until
finally the long years of abuse began to become too apparent. It was no
longer able to follow all commands because it did not register them
properly, due to too heavy brain damage from breathplay. Its
coordination began to falter and it stumbled in its heels and sometimes
it simply stopped in the middle of what it was doing, unable to
understand what it had been doing and how to proceed.

The Owner had no romantic ideas about retiring slaves and while he had
derived special entertainment from the object, this had always been
derived from its pain, not from its sexual prowess. Standing in the main
room of the club he called a brand new slave object over. This object
still had its male characteristics, a frustrated cock locked securely up
and a pair of badly beaten balls, and cowered before The Owner, naked
and in heels. This new object had only recently come realize just how
evil the man who owned it was and had reached the stage where it would
do anything to avoid punishment. Anything. Now it obey the command given
and took out The Owner's cock and took it in its toothless mouth and
began to suck as best in knew how.

Meanwhile The Owner called over the armless, sexless and irreparably
damaged object so it stood right beside him while he was being blown.
The club's patrons had moved a little closer as they sensed something
underway. The object stood passively by as The Owner slipped a clear
plastic bag over its head and tied a string around its neck, sealing its
head inside the bag. Immediately it began to fight for air. At first it
tried sucking the bag harder, but only achieved sucking a large portion
of the bag down its throat, thus making the bag fit more closely to its
head and face, a large depression visible where the bag had been sucked
in. Then it began using its legs, first walking in place, then running
in place to no use at all as panic gripped it completely. The Owner
noted with satisfaction that the new object at his feet was now keening
with fear around his cock. The armless object's struggles reached a new
level of desperation as its legs buckled under it and it fell down. It
body convulsed, spasmed, jerked and its heel drummed uselessly against
the floor. Nothing but pure panic filled the object's mind, but after
years of intense breathplay it was unable to identify this as the moment
it would die and not simply yet another round of sadistic asphyxiation.
The object's struggles grew faint, its heels drumming weakly and
erratically against the floor as it emptied its bladder. It last
thought, looking up through the plastic covering its face, was how much
it would love to be the one sucking the magnificent cock.

THE END

If you liked the story, please drop me a line and tell me what you liked
about the story at: story_2nn@yahoo.com


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