Joe Is Trained As A Doggy-slave free porn video
Joe is trained as a doggy-slave
by 2NN
Waiting for the man to arrive, Joe is thinking about how much things has changed since he met him. When they met Joe hadn't been in the least bit turned on by either breathplay or female footwear. Now Joe prances around in his home, wearing a pair of six-inch stilettos. He loves the stilettos now, but he didn't use to. Before he met the man stilettos did nothing for him, but now they make him terribly horny. The man made him love stilettos as he made Joe love several things he didn't like before. The memory of the horrible torture the man subjected Joe to when he broke Joe and made him his property makes Joe shudder. He will do anything to avoid torture like that again. He remembers his balls filled with sharp needles, his balls tortured by blows and electricity, twisting and kicking. Joe remembers the whips and crops beating him so badly that it took almost a month for the marks to fade. He remembers the burning liquids the man forced up Joe's cock and into his bladder, once more making Joe scream and beg. And finally he remembers breaking, giving into the man and becoming his property, vowing to do anything for the man, absolutely anything.
Since that weekend Joe has been the man's property, body and soul. Although the man lives far away he controls Joe completely and utterly. The slightest suggestion that he might disobey the man is enough to make Joe tremble and cry. A stray thought of how life as a free man would be makes Joe physically ill and the sickness does not pass until he has told the man of this and received proper punishment for it. The man's hold over Joe is so total and complete that that he can't even think of escape. In single weekend of torture he has broken Joe to a degree he will never, ever escape. So Joe loves his stilettos and he thinks that they make him look sexy, just as the man has trained him to think. Joe, however, does not like the chastity device. He doesn't like is one bit. He can perform all normal functions, but he can't get hard and he can't do anything about it. The man came by Joe's home unexpectedly on Monday. Joe was very surprised and very, very happy to see his Master. The man knew exactly when Joe would be home because Joe now lives according to a timetable set down by the man: when he eats, when he shits, when he works, when he works out, what he wears, what he eats, how he eats it, where he sits, where he sleeps and when he masturbates. Every last detail of Joe's life is regulated by the man. Nothing is left for Joe to decide. The man came by on Monday, made Joe blow him, locked Joe's completely hairless genitals inside the chastity device and left saying that Joe should be ready for him on Saturday afternoon.
With a shudder that almost makes him wet his pants, Joe remembers how the man trained him to love breathplay. The plastic bags, sealed with duct tape at the neck, cutting off his breath while the man played with Joe's painfully erect cock. He remembers the futile struggling, the panic and the acute fear of dying blending with fabulous orgasms as the man gives Joe one fabulous handjob after the other, all timed so that Joe's orgasm comes only a moment before he looses consciousness. After several days of this kind of training Joe has become addicted to breathplay. He knows that each time makes him dumber as the lack of air damages his brain, but he doesn't care. Not only is he unable to disobey the man when he strangles Joe, but Joe is also unwilling to fight the man on this. He has been too well conditioned and now loves is when the spots appear before his eyes and his muscles start to spasm from lack of air. Now anything that hinders his breath is a turn-on for him. It is also one of the few kinds of training that Joe is not allowed to perform himself. He would love to put a plastic bag over his head every time he jerks off, but the man has forbidden him to do so and Joe remembers the long, thick needles penetrating his testicles as the man demonstrates just how far he is willing to go to punish Joe.
Thinking of breathplay has made Joe enormously horny and he wishes he could jerk off. But of course this is impossible right now.
Finally the doorbell rings and Joe scampers to the door, his heart pounding and his cock fighting a loosing battle to break free of its hateful prison. He opens the door and the second he sees that it is indeed the man, he falls to his knees, leans forward and kisses the man's boots as he tries oh-so hard to show what a devoted slave he is. The man lets him sweat. For several minutes Joe kisses and licks the man's boots without him saying a single word. Only after Joe has begun whimpering with nervous agitation does the man speak: "All right you useless slut. Strip." The door is still open, but the man clearly doesn't care if the whole world can see that Joe is a useless sissified slut. Besides it is an order and hesitation will only result in punishment, so Joe strips as fast as he possibly can. The man has decreed that Joe wear super tight jeans and a tight little T-shirt at home and getting the jeans off is quite difficult, but Joe works quickly, carefully slipping into his six-inch Oxfords again once the jeans have been discarded.
Before the door closes Joe kneels in front of the man, legs and back ramrod straight and with his hands behind his head, clearly exposing his imprisoned sex. The man steps aside so that for a moment the world gets an unobstructed view of the slave boy. A large man in a tracksuit passes by and notices Joe, but instead of stopping and such, he merely smiles knowingly at Joe and continues. Joe's heart nearly stops from embarrassment at being seen, but at the same time his cock twitches longingly inside its cage.
Then the man shuts the door and orders Joe to crawl into the living room. Joe is desperately needy. He is used to cuming 8 times every day, jerking off at the times and places the man has ordered him to, and now he has been without an orgasm for 5 full days. In his head a single sentence repeats itself over and over again, one that he would love say out loud, but doesn't dare: "Please fuck me, please. Please fuck me, please. Please fuck me, please…." As he stops on all fours his hopes of the man fucking him and maybe even letting Joe get off, are briefly raised as the man lets his hand wander up Joe's backside, caressing him from his ass to the nape of his neck. A moan of lust escapes Joe. Then the man takes out his cock and pulls Joe up by his hair and makes him perform a blowjob. As the man cums, he forces his cock deep down into Joe's throat, making him gag and fight for his breath.
After releasing Joe and zipping up his pants, the man leaves briefly only to come back with a duffel bag. The mere sight of it sets Joe's pulse racing. In this bag the man has carried all the items used to inflict pain and discomfort on Joe beyond his worst nightmares and wildest dreams. All the wonderful and dreadful items that have come to play such a huge role in Joe's life have been taken out of this bag: stilettos, gags, needles, electric power supplies and cables, plastic bags and dildos. Even the hated chastity device came out of that duffel bag. The bag spells trouble and promise and Joe can't wait to see what comes next.
Joe has some difficulty discerning what the first items are, but he soon finds out as his hands are sealed inside rubber mittens, pressed into useless cone-like shapes. The next items make Joe whimper with fearful lust. It's a pair of stilettos, but far more severe and demanding than anything Joe has ever worn before. These are a pair of ballet-toed stiletto boots, with very high heels.
They are at least one size too small and hurt his feet badly even when he's just kneeling in them as he is now. After the boots come a collar and after the collar comes a ring-gag that is positively threatening. The man struggles to insert it, completely ignoring Joe's cries, and finally with a twist that Joe briefly thinks has dislocated his jaw, the ring slides into place. Joe is now gaping wider than he ever has before and he is unable to stop. Then the man pulls out the final items for Joe to wear. It looks like four heavy-duty rubber bags, two large and two slightly smaller. Joe is puzzled, but not for long. They are used to tie his forearms to his underarms and his thighs to his lower legs. Soon Joe is standing on all fours, on his knees and elbows, the rubber sacks making sure he can't use his arms and legs normally. As a final precaution to prevent Joe from escaping, a strap goes from one side of the bag to the other, but going around the heel of his boot. A similar tactic is used for his arms, but here the strap is tied to a ring at the wrist of his mittens, doubly preventing him from escaping.
As Joe stands tied up on all fours the man kneels down, grabs his chin and forces Joe to look him in the eye. This makes Joe weak with submissive lust. He is completely helpless and the man dominates him not only physically, but mentally as well. The man now informs Joe that until he is told otherwise he is a doggy-slave. This means staying on all fours, only lying down when told to, not speaking a single understandable word and of course obeying every single command from the man. But there is a twist. The man will not tolerate any silly doggy-sounds. No barking or growling. Joe can scream and cry when he is tortured as long as his screams contain no words. He can whimper and moan all he likes, as long as there are no words. With a shudder Joe realizes that this order should pose no problems at all, since Joe is usually in so much pain when the man tortures him that he is completely unable to form words. The same applies when the man lets him cum. This makes Joe completely incoherent with pleasure, reducing him to a moaning wreck babbling nonsense sounds.
Once he has instructed Joe, the man sets about training him. Joe kneels dutifully in front of the man when told to, his tongue hanging out as he pants for approval and looks adoringly at his master. Joe swells, or tries to swell, with pride as the man pats him on the head and says: "Good dog." Joe comes to stand at the man's leg when the command "heel" is given and he lies down when told to. He rolls over onto his back when the man commands him to and he nearly begs for release as the man's hands roam his stomach, crotch and the inside of his thighs. Once the man is satisfied that Joe has understood that he is a doggy-slave, he issues the command "stay" and leaves the room. Joe stands on all fours looking straight into the air, just as he has been told. Already his elbows and knees are beginning to hurt and a slow ache is spreading in his shoulders and hips. They have only been training for half an hour an Joe knows that the man will go on for hours before calling it a night.
When the man returns he first releases Joe's cock, nearly making Joe cry with gratitude as he becomes almost painfully hard. Then the man begins, slowly and carefully, to rub every available surface of Joe's skin with massage oil. The man is thorough, taking his time and to Joe's delight and frustration he also pays attention to Joe's rock-hard member. Once in a while the man cups Joe's balls, kneading them gently or he runs a well-oiled hand along the entire length of Joe's shaft. As the gentle massage continues Joe's hips begin thrusting involuntarily as his mind is filled completely by the overwhelming need to cum. But of course the man is not going the to let Joe off so easily. After what seems like hours of maddeningly sensuous massage Joe is whimpering with need as the man stands up and leaves him unfulfilled. He is too well trained to beg, but Joe still whimpers pathetically as the man leaves him.
The man returns with a leash and clips it to Joe's collar. Then he leads him out of the living room. As they approach the front door, Joe realizes that the man is leading him out into the street where all the world will be able to see what he is. Briefly Joe considers fighting the man and refusing to follow him, but not only does he know that this would be futile, he also feels a shiver of exhibitionistic delight at the prospect of being spotted.
It is early evening and not yet full dark. The street is deserted as the man and his pathetically horny doggy-slave make their way to the man's car at a very leisurely pace. Or rather the street is nearly deserted. As the man stops Joe to open the back of his large SUV a large man in a tracksuit runs by. With a start Joe recognizes him as the man who saw him kneeling nearly naked when the man had arrived. But this time he doesn't run by, but stops and approaches the man. As they talk Joe is left on all fours, bound and leashed in full view in a public street. They clearly talk about Joe, but Joe's mind is too preoccupied with his public nakedness and humiliation to be able to concentrate on what they are saying. The fear of being seen and the overpowering exhibitionistic delight fill Joe's slave-mind, pushing out all rational thought. After talking for what seem to Joe to be hours, the man writes down something on a piece of paper, gives it to the runner and says: "I'm sure you can make it. The more, the better."
Then his attention returns to his doggy, which he scoops up in his arms and deposits inside the cage he has installed in the back of his car. When the door to this cage closes, Joe is pressed against it on all sides, unable to even sit down. Joe can see the street quite clearly through the widow of the car, but no one can see him as the widows are darkened. During the drive Joe sees people in other cars going about their normal lives, completely unaware that mere feet away from them Joe, the severely bound and controlled doggy slave, is standing caged in the back of a car.
After an uneventful drive, they arrive at their destination, which is a large downtown office building. The man drives straight down into the parking basement and as he stops at the guard, Joe hears them both laugh and sees the guard nodding in his direction. Joe has no doubt whatsoever that the guard knows exactly what is in the back of the car, and he shivers at the thought of how vulnerable and exposed he is, how much he is at the man's mercy. If only the man would allow him to cum.
The garage is nearly deserted and completely quiet as the man lifts Joe out of the car and places him on the cold cement floor. They are parked next to some kind of service entrance, not far away from an elevator. Then, just as the man closes the car and prepares to move away, the elevator doors slide open and someone steps out. It's a woman and she walks straight at them. The man is completely calm as he tugs Joe's leash and sets him in motion, apparently not caring if the woman sees them or not. And the woman does see them. When they are twenty feet away from her, she suddenly notices Joe and stops in her tracks. At first she looks alarmed and looks around for attackers, reaching into her handbag for something. Then she notices the calm with which the man carries himself and that there are no one else in the basement. As the man and his doggy-slave get closer, her look changes from alarm to intense curiosity. As the man is about to pass her she asks him: "Is he your dog?" The man smiles and answers that the useless doggy at his side is indeed his, even if he is a poor excuse for both a dog and a slave. Joe's face burns with humiliation at these words, but his erection certainly doesn't go away.
The woman is keenly interested in Joe and with the man's permission she kneels down to feel Joe up and look at him more closely. She is an absolutely beautiful black woman, with skin the color of coffee with just a touch of cream. Her hair is in a tight bun at the back of her hair, so that her high, smooth forehead is exposed to her advantage. Everything about her spells success. Her suit, a stylishly tight black set, is obviously tailor made and both her black stilettos and her handbag looks like they have cost a fortune. Joe has also noticed that the only other car in this part of the basement is the newest Porsche model, top of the line. She is so obviously rich and successful. And obviously interested in the doggy that stands before her. She lets her perfectly manicured fingernails run down the length of Joe's body, lightly scratching him on the thighs, just touching his balls. When she has finished her examination, she stands up and asks the man if Joe is well trained, if he is housebroken. With a soft chuckle the man answers that Joe is indeed housebroken, as well as broken in other ways. This results in a small, wicked laugh from the woman. There is a small uncomfortable pause in the conversation and then the woman asks the man if she can be allowed to whip the dog? The man is a little startled at the request, but quickly comes back to answer that of course she can whip the worthless dog. This makes Joe start, but no one is paying him any attention as the woman looks around for something to whip Joe with. Her problem is solved when the man helpfully removes his leather belt and hands it to her.
The woman doesn't hesitate a single second, but starts to whip Joe's ass furiously. Soon she is panting with exertion and Joe is whimpering with pain. But the man clearly has other plans for Joe tonight and he stops the woman as Joe's ass cheeks begin to redden, well before she can do any damage. The woman doesn't seem too disappointed. Her eyes shine with sadistic delight, her lips shine and perspiration glistens on her upper lips. Her breath is shallow and exited and Joe can see her erect nipples even through her expensive suit.
As a compensation for not allowing her to whip Joe for longer, the man asks that she watch Joe demonstrate his devotion. The man's test of Joe's devotion is both cruel and exciting for Joe and deceptively simple. The man puts Joe's head inside a clear plastic bag and seals the bag at his neck with tape. The test is then for Joe to remain as still as he possibly can until the man removes the bag, which is most often well after Joe has passed out from lack of air. Joe must fight the muscle spasms induced by the lack of air and remain absolutely still as his body tries to fight for breath. Since Joe has been made to love breathplay he also loves this test, but he also fears it so very much. Most often the man lets Joe pass out, at last involuntarily twitching and spasming as his body gives up. Each time Joe is convinced that the man will just leave the bag on until Joe is quite dead and each time he wakes up coughing and retching as consciousness returns to him. Each time it makes him dumber as the lack of air damages his brain. And each time he is absolutely hopelessly aroused.
It is the same this time. While the woman watches intently, the man puts a clear plastic bag over Joe's head and in one quick movement he seals the bag at Joe's neck with few turns of duct tape. Joe can see the woman looking at this with both interest and arousal even as the bag begins to fog over. As his breath becomes shorter, his arousal mounts and then, to Joe's great surprise, the man kneels down and grabs Joe's cock. As it becomes harder and harder for Joe to breathe, the man strokes Joe closer and closer to a fabulous orgasm. Joe is absolutely sure that the man will let him cum this time and he is filled with deep gratitude towards him, even as his body begins to spasm and his consciousness fades. But then, just as Joe is about to cum, the man removes his hand and Joe is left hanging. He twitches and spasms with both lack of air and frustration as he looses bladder control and faints.
When he regains consciousness, heaving for breath, he feels the wetness from the pool of his own urine that he is lying in. He can also feel the pointed toe of the woman's stiletto probing his genitals, now flaccid, none too gently. As he looks up at the man smiling and the woman standing over him with one foot in his crotch, he is shamed to note that his cock becomes hard again within seconds of him regaining consciousness. After lightly stepping on his balls with her sharp heel, she turns to the man and asks: "How much?" There is no doubt that she means it. She wants to buy Joe. Joe's mind almost panics. On one hand he loves his master and wants only to belong to him. On the other hand he is also a slave and his slave self finds the prospect of being sold to this obviously cruel woman a huge turn-on. He has little doubt that she is cruel and demanding and that she will treat him like dirt. Just as he dreams of.
The man, however, politely refuses her offers, even when the amounts of money she offers for Joe become quite substantial. She is quite disappointed until the man offers that she can borrow Joe for extended periods of time when the man is not in town. As she smiles cruelly down at him, Joe knows that his life, already almost completely beyond his own control, has just become even less free and tightly controlled by others. He shudders with fear and arousal as there is no denying that he wants this. He will almost certainly regret it later, but right now he must express his gratitude and so crawls over to the woman and licks her shoes. With his mouth forced open by the ring-gag he can't kiss them and the man has forbidden him to speak, so all he is left with is licking his new mistress' stilettos. Both she and the man smile before shaking hands on their deal. Then the woman turns on her heels and walks to her car as the man gives the order "Heel!". Joe struggles to his "feet" and scampers over to stand by the man. Behind him he can hear the clicking of her high heels on the concrete and the sound of a car door closing. As the man and Joe begin moving away, he notices that the car doesn't start and he is quite sure that the woman is sitting in the car masturbating. His own erection is still throbbing with need, but there is no sign that the man will allow him to cum. They approach the service entrance and Joe sees that there are two men standing there. They are both quite large and burly and Joe recognizes one of them as a man he has previous had a relationship with, before he became the man's property. The man leads them through double doors into a large clinical looking room. The walls and floor are covered with white tile and the room is lit with glaring white lights. It is quite large, completely devoid of furniture and filled with men. Joe is so shocked he just keeps walking automatically where the man leads him, the drool spilling down over his chin and dripping on the floor. He looks around the room and sees that there must he thirty or forty men in the room, if not more. And what's more, he recognizes several of them. Some have been his sex partners in the years before he met the man, but he also shocked to recognize a couple of his colleagues including his boss. With a submissive thrill, combined with a familiar sinking feeling of being outmaneuvered, he realizes that he has just lost even more freedom. Now the people he meets every day will know what he is and he is quite sure that most will take advantage of his status as a slave.
As they reach the center of the room, the conversation dies down and all eyes focus on Joe and the man. In the crowd Joe recognizes the man in the tracksuit whom they met in the street. He is now dressed in discrete black leather and is sporting an expectant smile, as are almost all the other men. In the silence before the man speaks, Joe realizes that he is the only slave here and thus bound to be the sole focus of attention. The crowd pulls closer and the man speaks: "Welcome! And thank you all for coming. I trust that you will all enjoy fucking doggy here to the fullest. Please make sure that you use both his holes at least once." Joe begins to sweat from near panic. He is to be fucked at both ends by all these men? All of them? Being gang-banged has been a fantasy of his for a long time, but now that he actually sees all the guys who are going to fuck him, he realizes what he is in for. It is entirely possible that he will be unable to walk for several days if all the men in the room take him from behind. He also realizes that this is going to take some time. He has been standing on his elbows and knees for almost an hour and a half already, he has blown the man, he has been whipped, teased and subjected to breathplay. Already his elbows and shoulders, his knees and hips ache and he knows that the gangbanging is going to last for hours and hours. As he moans with fear he realizes that he has never been closer to cuming without being touched. He is so hard it hurts and his cock is doing pathetic little twitching motions as it prepares for an orgasm that is probably hours away at the very best. Meanwhile the man continues: "Before we start I have three requests: One: Use a condom every time. Two: Use lubrication. Three: Do not allow the bitch to cum. Oh, and one final thing: Do make him deep-throat you and do make sure that you hold it in his throat until he twitches. He so deserves to choke on you. Now let's get started. Enjoy!" There is wild applause and laughter and then all the men turn their hungry eyes at Joe, standing on all fours, just waiting to be fucked.
He doesn't have to wait more than a few seconds before the first pair is upon him. They have put on their rubbers quickly and lubing Joe's waiting ass doesn't take long and in two quick thrusts they have penetrated him. The fucking is vigorous, needy and more than a little violent. The guy holding his head makes sure that he spends more than enough time in Joe's throat. Joe barely has time to breathe as the guy pounds his cock in and out of his throat. The guy drilling Joe's ass has a vice-grip on his hips, a fair-sized cock and is fucking a near-inhuman pace. They are abusing Joe as brutally as they know how and Joe is loving it. For horny guys they take an awful long time, but when they finally finish, of course leaving Joe even more frustrated, two new guys stand by to take over immediately. The switch is so fast that he barely has time to catch his breath before a new cock pushes into his throat and a fresh dick rams up his ass. This time the guy fucking his face is so huge that Joe has trouble taking him in is throat and panic fills him as the oversized cock enters it. Not that it bothers the guy, who merely pushes harder to get it down Joe's throat. And not only is he huge, he also likes to keep is cock in Joe's throat until spots appear before Joe's eyes and his arms and legs start to give way. Not only does it fill Joe up with an extra strong dose of that familiar blend of fear and arousal, but it also prolongs the fucking a great deal as the guy isn't moving his cock around a lot. While Joe is being choked by a huge cock at one end, his other end is being subjected to what can only be described as an almost desperate fucking at the other. The guy gripping Joe's hips is hammering away at his ass at an incredible pace, a pistons seemingly unable to cum. The fucking is exhausting and lasts forever. When it finally ends another blindingly fast switch takes place. This time it is the cock entering Joe from behind that is huge. So huge in fact that Joe would scream had it not been for the cock being forced down his throat. This time the pace is more human, but Joe moans and whimpers at every chance as he feels the huge cock stretching his ass unbearably.
It goes on and on. As soon as one guy finishes, new one takes his place. Out of the corner of his eye Joe can see the bucket for used condoms filling up. His ass and the insides of his thighs are slick with lubrication. The ache in his limbs become a burning pain, his ass feels stretched beyond capacity, on its way to becoming permanently damaged and his throat is raw from all the deepthroating he has done. Joe's cock tells him that he loves, even if his brain tries to tell him that he doesn't. And still they keep coming. One guy is so fond of breathplaying that he makes Joe pass out six times before he cums. Another guy works his cock in such a way that he is almost in Joe's throat all the time, only just allowing Joe to breathe while the guys cock lingers at the edge of his throat. Yet another guys is so huge and so vigorous that he pounds Joe so forcefully and for so long that he nearly passes out from the beating his ass takes. Joe is exhausted and yet his painful erection tells him that he needs this. The fucking goes on. Guy after guy makes ever longer assaults on his face and ass, as their initial lust is sated; their second and third fucks take longer and are more thorough. All the individual fucks blend in to one endless fuck as Joe is depleted of strength. His whole body is in pain and he is not sure if he can go on much longer without passing out from exhaustion. Still his rock-hard cock is there informing him that he still loves this.
And then finally, mercifully, it's over. Joe stands on all fours, his limbs shaking with exhaustion. His cock is the only part of him that isn't ready to lie down and sleep. Standing a few paces in front of him is the only man in the room who hasn't fucked Joe at least twice. In fact the man hasn't touched Joe since they were by the car, hours ago. The man smiles sadistically down at Joe and says: "Will the gentlemen I talked with earlier please step forward?" Five burly men step up and Joe knows that his ordeal is not over yet. He doesn't remember any individual cocks, but he suspects that these were among the very large. The man's sadistic smile widens as he says to the five guys: "Please proceed as we agreed." The five men roll up their sleeves and Joe sees that they all have exceptionally large arms and very, very large hands. As they all make fists and smile at Joe, he realizes that this not about the size of their cocks. It is about the size of their hands. Joe looses control and begins to keen with fear as he realizes that he is about to get fisted by no less than five guys with fists so huge he can barely believe it. He wants to scream but doesn't have the energy. He wants to run away, but he is too afraid. Too afraid of the punishment that would follow such an attempted escape. So afraid of the fistings to come that is paralyzes him.
The men take up position. Two hold his arms, two hold his legs and the fifth man lubes up his truly massive fist, making sure that Joe can see it. Then he moves behind him and begins. Joe tries to relax, to let the guy in without too much pain since he knows there is no way around this. But it is no good. The guy strains and grunts as he tries to break past Joe's sphincter. It is hard work and for Joe the pain is unbelievable. He screams and moans as the guy tries to defeat Joe's ass. Finally, with a sensation that tells Joe that something in his ass has been broken beyond repair, the guys enormous fist slide all the way into him. His screams turn into low, unarticulated gurgles as he is longer able gather enough breath to scream. The fist fills him up completely. He is so full his whole body feels it, feels the pain and discomfort of it. His breathing is hampered and it feels like the fist is pressing against his lungs. This is the worst Joe has ever been subjected to and his throbbing cock tells him unequivocally just what a pain-slut he is, just how much he loves abuse of the most brutal kind.
Then the fist starts to move around. First is rotates, twisting Joe's gut with it. Joe is paralyzed with extreme discomfort. Then the fist begins to move back and forth ever so slightly, like an enormous, but relatively gentle fuck. Joe is unable to move, his breath shallow and ragged. The movements become bigger and bigger, pounding him as vigorously as the most savage of the fucks he has just received, but infinitely bigger. The fist pops out of Joe's ass and for the briefest of moments he is immensely relieved that it is finally over. Then it forces its way back in and Joe almost begins to cry with defeat. He can't take any more of this. But the fist doesn't care. It resumes its merciless pounding, its ruthless filling of his insides as it opens up Joe in a way he never intended for it do. The room and all the men in it disappear. Joe is aware of only three things: The enormous fist filling him up, his own cock telling him that he not only wants, but needs this, and finally he is aware of the man who ordered this done to Joe, who has enforced his will on Joe, once again bringing Joe completely and totally under his control.
Finally the fist is pulled out and Joe's body sags as he almost cries with relief. But it is far from over and as Joe sees the next guy, who has an even larger fist, move in front of him to lubricate his fist, he does begin to cry in defeat.
This time the fist has an easier time getting in, as Joe's asshole is already broken, but the it is larger and thus fills Joe out even more. It is also more thorough in its movements, lingering longer in all the places that cause Joe the most discomfort and pain. It pushes in deeper and it stays longer. Joe faints during this, but when he is slapped into consciousness, he is still standing on all fours, held up by the men and the fist is still inside his ass continuing its relentless probing. Joe has lost all contact with the outside world. The man's cruel smile, keeping him forever imprisoned, is all he sees.
After that fist are three more, each one bigger than the one before and each one pushing further up his insides and staying there for longer. When the last is finally withdrawn, Joe can feel the cool air enter his open ass unimpeded. His ass has been permanently damaged and with this ordeal also his mind. Joe was already a slave broken to his master's will, but now he has been brought down even further, stripped, beaten and abused to a degree he will never recover from. Now there is truly nothing he can refuse the man and no one he will not regard as his superior.
But as Joe stands with trembling limbs, barely able to do even that anymore, the man provides a suitably degrading end to the gangbanging. Joe doesn't hear the words, but at the man's command a tight circle is formed around him of men, all holding their cocks. Then they all let go and Joe is showered with urine. Every square inch of his body is showered with salty and smelly piss, his eyes burning with it as it runs down his face. When it is over, the next team steps up and releases their stream and so it continues until all have emptied their bladders over Joe, leaving him completely soaked. As the rest of the men leave the room only the man and Joe remain. Joe is shaking with exhaustion, pain and humiliation and barely able to stand, his vision blurred by all the urine in his eyes and his ass damaged beyond repair. The man stands directly in front of Joe. He says: "Roll over boy." Joe rolls onto his back and as he does, all the urine that had run into the rubber bags imprisoning his arms and legs empties over him, providing the last golden shower. Or rather nearly the last. As Joe is once again standing on all fours the man orders him to tilt his head back and swallow what is coming. He then empties his very full bladder into Joe's eagerly waiting mouth. Joe is careful to swallow it all, not missing a single drop. He may be near collapse from the brutal abuse, but his cock is still hard and his compete and utter devotion to the man is even more powerful than before.
Once he has emptied his bladder and Joe has swallowed it all, the man pats Joe's head and says: "Good boy." Then he takes the leash and leads Joe to the car. Joe is swelling with joy, his broken mind reveling in the knowledge that he is just a slave, a disgusting little doggy-slave that the man controls completely and utterly.
The ride back to Joe's place is uneventful. It is very early Sunday morning and the town is still mostly asleep. But as the man lifts Joe out of the car the paperboy passes by with the Sunday newspaper. Only he isn't a boy. He looks more like a college student and is clearly in his early twenties. He also looks very fit. He stops cold when he sees Joe and looks absolutely shocked. The man remains completely unfazed as he locks up the car and grabs Joe's leash and prepares to lead Joe indoors. The paperboy meanwhile, is over his shock and has realized that the situation is not illegal, merely perverse. He has also noticed the rank smell of urine emanating from the doggy-slave in front of him. He is clearly unsure of what to do until the man asks him: "How would you like to make a hundred dollars?" He is clearly interested now and so is Joe. The man paying this stranger one hundred dollars can only spell trouble for Joe. The paperboy is silent for a while and then asks: "What do I have to do?" To this the man smiles and says: "I'd like a newspaper." The paperboy is about to object when the man continues: "But I want it as a single roll, delivered as far up his ass as you can possibly push it." He points at Joe who gives a small shriek of panic. As the paperboy considers, the man finishes: "I want it so far up, that no more than an inch of it sticks out, further if you can do it." While Joe starts to breathe fast and shallow, the paperboy thinks about it. Then he nods in agreement and starts to roll up a newspaper, including all the Sunday specials. The roll is huge; with a diameter easily matching that of the biggest fists Joe's had roaming around his now broken ass. This time it's the man holding Joe while the paperboy works the roll into Joe's ass. And he really has to work. Not only is it huge, but also there is now no lubrication and the paper itself soaks up any moisture that might aid the process. It is immensely painful, but Joe is so weak from the ordeal he already been through, that only weak croaks escape him. Finally the paper is all the way in and Joe is again breathing in short gasps as the paper now takes up all the space in his insides. And what's more, he can feel it grow slowly as it absorbs more and more water from Joe, swelling as it does. The paperboy is sweating and panting with the exertion as he accepts the one hundred dollars from the man. He looks down at Joe's swollen cock and remarks: "He likes it, doesn't he?" The man chuckles and replies: "Oh, yes you can be damn sure of that." The paperboy nods and makes to continue his route when the man asks: "You should knock on the slut's door sometime," he indicates where Joe lives, "and give him a good fucking." This time the paperboy smiles for the first time and says: "Well, I'm usually not into guys, but I guess I'll try this slut out sometime. Thanks!" With that he runs off smiling. Joe's life has just moved further out of his control, but all he can focus on now, is the enormous roll steadily expanding inside his ass. The man pays it no heed but just leads Joe inside.
As the front door closes behind them, the man does not stop to release Joe. Instead he leads him into the bathroom. This makes sense to Joe as he smells extremely badly and a nice bath would be very nice after the night's punishments and fuckings. But the man does not release Joe. He doesn't even pour some water over him. No, the man orders Joe to sit. Then he removes Joe's leash and loops it around Joe's throat. Unzipping his pants, he shoves his hard cock into Joe's mouth and begins to fuck his face. At the same time he tightens the leash around Joe's neck, strangling him. Being allowed to service the man, while being strangled by him at the same time is almost too much for Joe and his throbbing and needy member is on the verge of exploding. It is, however, not Joe who explodes but the man, depositing his cum in Joe's mouth and throat. Joe is unable to swallow as his throat is closed by the strangling leash and instead Joe twitches and spasms from lack of air as the man finishes his face-fucking of Joe, while Joe himself looses consciousness.
When he comes to, Joe can feel the man's cum dribble out of his still forcibly opened mouth. The man is standing above him as Joe lies on the cold bathroom floor and the second he sees Joe has regained consciousness, he commands Joe to sit. With considerable effort Joe manages to sit before the man. The leash is still looped around his throat and to his terror and delight the man once again grips it tightly. He tightens it until it is just squeezing Joe's neck uncomfortably. Then he steps on Joe's still erect cock, squeezing the head of Joe's cock between the cold tile floor of the bathroom and the rough underside of his boot. "Go ahead doggy," the man says, "you may fuck my boot." It takes a second to sink in, but then Joe start to hump the man's leg furiously, like the pathetic, little dog he is. The bathroom floor doesn't feel nice against his exposed cock head, but the sole of the man's boot is outright murder on this most tender part of him. It doesn't matter. Joe fucks the man's boot like crazy, wrapping his folded up arms around his leg for support. As Joe moves closer and closer to his climax, the man tightens the leash more and more until Joe's breath is cut off completely. When he cums spots have begun appearing in front of his eyes and he has lost al control over his body. It jerks and twists, spasms and convulses, as Joe erupts into one of the most massive orgasms of his life. As the cum continues to pump out of him, he is engulfed in the fabulous orgasm, which is amplified many times by the fact that he being strangled at the same time. Finally Joe has no more to give and as the last cum pumps out of his cock, he looses consciousness, his face purple, his eyes almost popping out of his head, completely bloodshot. The man holds him longer than usual this time, savoring the look of Joe's swollen tongue hanging out of his mouth and the little twitches still left in him. Then finally, just before its too late, he removes the leash and lets Joe drop to the floor.
Joe wakes up coughing and retching, close to panic as he feels that he has come much closer this time than any of the other times this has happened. But he also feels good. No, he feels fantastic. He has had a fabulous orgasm and he has shown his devotion to his master, just as the man has shown Joe that he cares by arranging this brutal and demeaning ordeal for him. To show his appreciation Joe tries to lick up the cum on the floor and thus communicate his love and devotion to his cruel master.
While the floor is slowly cleaned the man laughs quietly. Then, when the floor is spotless, he kneels down and pats Joe on the cheek: "Time to sleep doggy." Joe moans both from gratitude and discomfort as the ever-growing paper is still in his ass. The man again chuckles softly and says: "No doggy, that stays." Then he fastens a thick rubber blindfold over Joe's eyes and ties him by the neck to the toilet.
He leaves Joe on the cold bathroom floor his arms and legs still tied, his hands in mittens and his feet in very painful ballet boots. Joe is still wearing a collar, the huge ring-gag still holds his mouth so open that he fears he will never be able to close his mouth properly and he is equipped with a new blindfold. And in Joe's much abused and broken asshole resides a huge newspaper roll, expanding ever so slowly.
With the taste of the bathroom floor, his own cum and the man's boots in his mouth, Joe falls asleep filled with deep gratitude towards the man.
THE END
By 2NN
Joe is trained as a doggy-slave
by 2NN
Waiting for the man to arrive, Joe is thinking about how much things has changed since he met him. When they met Joe hadn't been in the least bit turned on by either breathplay or female footwear. Now Joe prances around in his home, wearing a pair of six-inch stilettos. He loves the stilettos now, but he didn't use to. Before he met the man stilettos did nothing for him, but now they make him terribly horny. The man made him love stilettos as he made Joe love several things he didn't like before. The memory of the horrible torture the man subjected Joe to when he broke Joe and made him his property makes Joe shudder. He will do anything to avoid torture like that again. He remembers his balls filled with sharp needles, his balls tortured by blows and electricity, twisting and kicking. Joe remembers the whips and crops beating him so badly that it took almost a month for the marks to fade. He remembers the burning liquids the man forced up Joe's cock and into his bladder, once more making Joe scream and beg. And finally he remembers breaking, giving into the man and becoming his property, vowing to do anything for the man, absolutely anything.
Since that weekend Joe has been the man's property, body and soul. Although the man lives far away he controls Joe completely and utterly. The slightest suggestion that he might disobey the man is enough to make Joe tremble and cry. A stray thought of how life as a free man would be makes Joe physically ill and the sickness does not pass until he has told the man of this and received proper punishment for it. The man's hold over Joe is so total and complete that that he can't even think of escape. In single weekend of torture he has broken Joe to a degree he will never, ever escape. So Joe loves his stilettos and he thinks that they make him look sexy, just as the man has trained him to think. Joe, however, does not like the chastity device. He doesn't like is one bit. He can perform all normal functions, but he can't get hard and he can't do anything about it. The man came by Joe's home unexpectedly on Monday. Joe was very surprised and very, very happy to see his Master. The man knew exactly when Joe would be home because Joe now lives according to a timetable set down by the man: when he eats, when he shits, when he works, when he works out, what he wears, what he eats, how he eats it, where he sits, where he sleeps and when he masturbates. Every last detail of Joe's life is regulated by the man. Nothing is left for Joe to decide. The man came by on Monday, made Joe blow him, locked Joe's completely hairless genitals inside the chastity device and left saying that Joe should be ready for him on Saturday afternoon.
With a shudder that almost makes him wet his pants, Joe remembers how the man trained him to love breathplay. The plastic bags, sealed with duct tape at the neck, cutting off his breath while the man played with Joe's painfully erect cock. He remembers the futile struggling, the panic and the acute fear of dying blending with fabulous orgasms as the man gives Joe one fabulous handjob after the other, all timed so that Joe's orgasm comes only a moment before he looses consciousness. After several days of this kind of training Joe has become addicted to breathplay. He knows that each time makes him dumber as the lack of air damages his brain, but he doesn't care. Not only is he unable to disobey the man when he strangles Joe, but Joe is also unwilling to fight the man on this. He has been too well conditioned and now loves is when the spots appear before his eyes and his muscles start to spasm from lack of air. Now anything that hinders his breath is a turn-on for him. It is also one of the few kinds of training that Joe is not allowed to perform himself. He would love to put a plastic bag over his head every time he jerks off, but the man has forbidden him to do so and Joe remembers the long, thick needles penetrating his testicles as the man demonstrates just how far he is willing to go to punish Joe.
Thinking of breathplay has made Joe enormously horny and he wishes he could jerk off. But of course this is impossible right now.
Finally the doorbell rings and Joe scampers to the door, his heart pounding and his cock fighting a loosing battle to break free of its hateful prison. He opens the door and the second he sees that it is indeed the man, he falls to his knees, leans forward and kisses the man's boots as he tries oh-so hard to show what a devoted slave he is. The man lets him sweat. For several minutes Joe kisses and licks the man's boots without him saying a single word. Only after Joe has begun whimpering with nervous agitation does the man speak: "All right you useless slut. Strip." The door is still open, but the man clearly doesn't care if the whole world can see that Joe is a useless sissified slut. Besides it is an order and hesitation will only result in punishment, so Joe strips as fast as he possibly can. The man has decreed that Joe wear super tight jeans and a tight little T-shirt at home and getting the jeans off is quite difficult, but Joe works quickly, carefully slipping into his six-inch Oxfords again once the jeans have been discarded.
Before the door closes Joe kneels in front of the man, legs and back ramrod straight and with his hands behind his head, clearly exposing his imprisoned sex. The man steps aside so that for a moment the world gets an unobstructed view of the slave boy. A large man in a tracksuit passes by and notices Joe, but instead of stopping and such, he merely smiles knowingly at Joe and continues. Joe's heart nearly stops from embarrassment at being seen, but at the same time his cock twitches longingly inside its cage.
Then the man shuts the door and orders Joe to crawl into the living room. Joe is desperately needy. He is used to cuming 8 times every day, jerking off at the times and places the man has ordered him to, and now he has been without an orgasm for 5 full days. In his head a single sentence repeats itself over and over again, one that he would love say out loud, but doesn't dare: "Please fuck me, please. Please fuck me, please. Please fuck me, please…." As he stops on all fours his hopes of the man fucking him and maybe even letting Joe get off, are briefly raised as the man lets his hand wander up Joe's backside, caressing him from his ass to the nape of his neck. A moan of lust escapes Joe. Then the man takes out his cock and pulls Joe up by his hair and makes him perform a blowjob. As the man cums, he forces his cock deep down into Joe's throat, making him gag and fight for his breath.
After releasing Joe and zipping up his pants, the man leaves briefly only to come back with a duffel bag. The mere sight of it sets Joe's pulse racing. In this bag the man has carried all the items used to inflict pain and discomfort on Joe beyond his worst nightmares and wildest dreams. All the wonderful and dreadful items that have come to play such a huge role in Joe's life have been taken out of this bag: stilettos, gags, needles, electric power supplies and cables, plastic bags and dildos. Even the hated chastity device came out of that duffel bag. The bag spells trouble and promise and Joe can't wait to see what comes next.
Joe has some difficulty discerning what the first items are, but he soon finds out as his hands are sealed inside rubber mittens, pressed into useless cone-like shapes. The next items make Joe whimper with fearful lust. It's a pair of stilettos, but far more severe and demanding than anything Joe has ever worn before. These are a pair of ballet-toed stiletto boots, with very high heels.
They are at least one size too small and hurt his feet badly even when he's just kneeling in them as he is now. After the boots come a collar and after the collar comes a ring-gag that is positively threatening. The man struggles to insert it, completely ignoring Joe's cries, and finally with a twist that Joe briefly thinks has dislocated his jaw, the ring slides into place. Joe is now gaping wider than he ever has before and he is unable to stop. Then the man pulls out the final items for Joe to wear. It looks like four heavy-duty rubber bags, two large and two slightly smaller. Joe is puzzled, but not for long. They are used to tie his forearms to his underarms and his thighs to his lower legs. Soon Joe is standing on all fours, on his knees and elbows, the rubber sacks making sure he can't use his arms and legs normally. As a final precaution to prevent Joe from escaping, a strap goes from one side of the bag to the other, but going around the heel of his boot. A similar tactic is used for his arms, but here the strap is tied to a ring at the wrist of his mittens, doubly preventing him from escaping.
As Joe stands tied up on all fours the man kneels down, grabs his chin and forces Joe to look him in the eye. This makes Joe weak with submissive lust. He is completely helpless and the man dominates him not only physically, but mentally as well. The man now informs Joe that until he is told otherwise he is a doggy-slave. This means staying on all fours, only lying down when told to, not speaking a single understandable word and of course obeying every single command from the man. But there is a twist. The man will not tolerate any silly doggy-sounds. No barking or growling. Joe can scream and cry when he is tortured as long as his screams contain no words. He can whimper and moan all he likes, as long as there are no words. With a shudder Joe realizes that this order should pose no problems at all, since Joe is usually in so much pain when the man tortures him that he is completely unable to form words. The same applies when the man lets him cum. This makes Joe completely incoherent with pleasure, reducing him to a moaning wreck babbling nonsense sounds.
Once he has instructed Joe, the man sets about training him. Joe kneels dutifully in front of the man when told to, his tongue hanging out as he pants for approval and looks adoringly at his master. Joe swells, or tries to swell, with pride as the man pats him on the head and says: "Good dog." Joe comes to stand at the man's leg when the command "heel" is given and he lies down when told to. He rolls over onto his back when the man commands him to and he nearly begs for release as the man's hands roam his stomach, crotch and the inside of his thighs. Once the man is satisfied that Joe has understood that he is a doggy-slave, he issues the command "stay" and leaves the room. Joe stands on all fours looking straight into the air, just as he has been told. Already his elbows and knees are beginning to hurt and a slow ache is spreading in his shoulders and hips. They have only been training for half an hour an Joe knows that the man will go on for hours before calling it a night.
When the man returns he first releases Joe's cock, nearly making Joe cry with gratitude as he becomes almost painfully hard. Then the man begins, slowly and carefully, to rub every available surface of Joe's skin with massage oil. The man is thorough, taking his time and to Joe's delight and frustration he also pays attention to Joe's rock-hard member. Once in a while the man cups Joe's balls, kneading them gently or he runs a well-oiled hand along the entire length of Joe's shaft. As the gentle massage continues Joe's hips begin thrusting involuntarily as his mind is filled completely by the overwhelming need to cum. But of course the man is not going the to let Joe off so easily. After what seems like hours of maddeningly sensuous massage Joe is whimpering with need as the man stands up and leaves him unfulfilled. He is too well trained to beg, but Joe still whimpers pathetically as the man leaves him.
The man returns with a leash and clips it to Joe's collar. Then he leads him out of the living room. As they approach the front door, Joe realizes that the man is leading him out into the street where all the world will be able to see what he is. Briefly Joe considers fighting the man and refusing to follow him, but not only does he know that this would be futile, he also feels a shiver of exhibitionistic delight at the prospect of being spotted.
It is early evening and not yet full dark. The street is deserted as the man and his pathetically horny doggy-slave make their way to the man's car at a very leisurely pace. Or rather the street is nearly deserted. As the man stops Joe to open the back of his large SUV a large man in a tracksuit runs by. With a start Joe recognizes him as the man who saw him kneeling nearly naked when the man had arrived. But this time he doesn't run by, but stops and approaches the man. As they talk Joe is left on all fours, bound and leashed in full view in a public street. They clearly talk about Joe, but Joe's mind is too preoccupied with his public nakedness and humiliation to be able to concentrate on what they are saying. The fear of being seen and the overpowering exhibitionistic delight fill Joe's slave-mind, pushing out all rational thought. After talking for what seem to Joe to be hours, the man writes down something on a piece of paper, gives it to the runner and says: "I'm sure you can make it. The more, the better."
Then his attention returns to his doggy, which he scoops up in his arms and deposits inside the cage he has installed in the back of his car. When the door to this cage closes, Joe is pressed against it on all sides, unable to even sit down. Joe can see the street quite clearly through the widow of the car, but no one can see him as the widows are darkened. During the drive Joe sees people in other cars going about their normal lives, completely unaware that mere feet away from them Joe, the severely bound and controlled doggy slave, is standing caged in the back of a car.
After an uneventful drive, they arrive at their destination, which is a large downtown office building. The man drives straight down into the parking basement and as he stops at the guard, Joe hears them both laugh and sees the guard nodding in his direction. Joe has no doubt whatsoever that the guard knows exactly what is in the back of the car, and he shivers at the thought of how vulnerable and exposed he is, how much he is at the man's mercy. If only the man would allow him to cum.
The garage is nearly deserted and completely quiet as the man lifts Joe out of the car and places him on the cold cement floor. They are parked next to some kind of service entrance, not far away from an elevator. Then, just as the man closes the car and prepares to move away, the elevator doors slide open and someone steps out. It's a woman and she walks straight at them. The man is completely calm as he tugs Joe's leash and sets him in motion, apparently not caring if the woman sees them or not. And the woman does see them. When they are twenty feet away from her, she suddenly notices Joe and stops in her tracks. At first she looks alarmed and looks around for attackers, reaching into her handbag for something. Then she notices the calm with which the man carries himself and that there are no one else in the basement. As the man and his doggy-slave get closer, her look changes from alarm to intense curiosity. As the man is about to pass her she asks him: "Is he your dog?" The man smiles and answers that the useless doggy at his side is indeed his, even if he is a poor excuse for both a dog and a slave. Joe's face burns with humiliation at these words, but his erection certainly doesn't go away.
The woman is keenly interested in Joe and with the man's permission she kneels down to feel Joe up and look at him more closely. She is an absolutely beautiful black woman, with skin the color of coffee with just a touch of cream. Her hair is in a tight bun at the back of her hair, so that her high, smooth forehead is exposed to her advantage. Everything about her spells success. Her suit, a stylishly tight black set, is obviously tailor made and both her black stilettos and her handbag looks like they have cost a fortune. Joe has also noticed that the only other car in this part of the basement is the newest Porsche model, top of the line. She is so obviously rich and successful. And obviously interested in the doggy that stands before her. She lets her perfectly manicured fingernails run down the length of Joe's body, lightly scratching him on the thighs, just touching his balls. When she has finished her examination, she stands up and asks the man if Joe is well trained, if he is housebroken. With a soft chuckle the man answers that Joe is indeed housebroken, as well as broken in other ways. This results in a small, wicked laugh from the woman. There is a small uncomfortable pause in the conversation and then the woman asks the man if she can be allowed to whip the dog? The man is a little startled at the request, but quickly comes back to answer that of course she can whip the worthless dog. This makes Joe start, but no one is paying him any attention as the woman looks around for something to whip Joe with. Her problem is solved when the man helpfully removes his leather belt and hands it to her.
The woman doesn't hesitate a single second, but starts to whip Joe's ass furiously. Soon she is panting with exertion and Joe is whimpering with pain. But the man clearly has other plans for Joe tonight and he stops the woman as Joe's ass cheeks begin to redden, well before she can do any damage. The woman doesn't seem too disappointed. Her eyes shine with sadistic delight, her lips shine and perspiration glistens on her upper lips. Her breath is shallow and exited and Joe can see her erect nipples even through her expensive suit.
As a compensation for not allowing her to whip Joe for longer, the man asks that she watch Joe demonstrate his devotion. The man's test of Joe's devotion is both cruel and exciting for Joe and deceptively simple. The man puts Joe's head inside a clear plastic bag and seals the bag at his neck with tape. The test is then for Joe to remain as still as he possibly can until the man removes the bag, which is most often well after Joe has passed out from lack of air. Joe must fight the muscle spasms induced by the lack of air and remain absolutely still as his body tries to fight for breath. Since Joe has been made to love breathplay he also loves this test, but he also fears it so very much. Most often the man lets Joe pass out, at last involuntarily twitching and spasming as his body gives up. Each time Joe is convinced that the man will just leave the bag on until Joe is quite dead and each time he wakes up coughing and retching as consciousness returns to him. Each time it makes him dumber as the lack of air damages his brain. And each time he is absolutely hopelessly aroused.
It is the same this time. While the woman watches intently, the man puts a clear plastic bag over Joe's head and in one quick movement he seals the bag at Joe's neck with few turns of duct tape. Joe can see the woman looking at this with both interest and arousal even as the bag begins to fog over. As his breath becomes shorter, his arousal mounts and then, to Joe's great surprise, the man kneels down and grabs Joe's cock. As it becomes harder and harder for Joe to breathe, the man strokes Joe closer and closer to a fabulous orgasm. Joe is absolutely sure that the man will let him cum this time and he is filled with deep gratitude towards him, even as his body begins to spasm and his consciousness fades. But then, just as Joe is about to cum, the man removes his hand and Joe is left hanging. He twitches and spasms with both lack of air and frustration as he looses bladder control and faints.
When he regains consciousness, heaving for breath, he feels the wetness from the pool of his own urine that he is lying in. He can also feel the pointed toe of the woman's stiletto probing his genitals, now flaccid, none too gently. As he looks up at the man smiling and the woman standing over him with one foot in his crotch, he is shamed to note that his cock becomes hard again within seconds of him regaining consciousness. After lightly stepping on his balls with her sharp heel, she turns to the man and asks: "How much?" There is no doubt that she means it. She wants to buy Joe. Joe's mind almost panics. On one hand he loves his master and wants only to belong to him. On the other hand he is also a slave and his slave self finds the prospect of being sold to this obviously cruel woman a huge turn-on. He has little doubt that she is cruel and demanding and that she will treat him like dirt. Just as he dreams of.
The man, however, politely refuses her offers, even when the amounts of money she offers for Joe become quite substantial. She is quite disappointed until the man offers that she can borrow Joe for extended periods of time when the man is not in town. As she smiles cruelly down at him, Joe knows that his life, already almost completely beyond his own control, has just become even less free and tightly controlled by others. He shudders with fear and arousal as there is no denying that he wants this. He will almost certainly regret it later, but right now he must express his gratitude and so crawls over to the woman and licks her shoes. With his mouth forced open by the ring-gag he can't kiss them and the man has forbidden him to speak, so all he is left with is licking his new mistress' stilettos. Both she and the man smile before shaking hands on their deal. Then the woman turns on her heels and walks to her car as the man gives the order "Heel!". Joe struggles to his "feet" and scampers over to stand by the man. Behind him he can hear the clicking of her high heels on the concrete and the sound of a car door closing. As the man and Joe begin moving away, he notices that the car doesn't start and he is quite sure that the woman is sitting in the car masturbating. His own erection is still throbbing with need, but there is no sign that the man will allow him to cum. They approach the service entrance and Joe sees that there are two men standing there. They are both quite large and burly and Joe recognizes one of them as a man he has previous had a relationship with, before he became the man's property. The man leads them through double doors into a large clinical looking room. The walls and floor are covered with white tile and the room is lit with glaring white lights. It is quite large, completely devoid of furniture and filled with men. Joe is so shocked he just keeps walking automatically where the man leads him, the drool spilling down over his chin and dripping on the floor. He looks around the room and sees that there must he thirty or forty men in the room, if not more. And what's more, he recognizes several of them. Some have been his sex partners in the years before he met the man, but he also shocked to recognize a couple of his colleagues including his boss. With a submissive thrill, combined with a familiar sinking feeling of being outmaneuvered, he realizes that he has just lost even more freedom. Now the people he meets every day will know what he is and he is quite sure that most will take advantage of his status as a slave.
As they reach the center of the room, the conversation dies down and all eyes focus on Joe and the man. In the crowd Joe recognizes the man in the tracksuit whom they met in the street. He is now dressed in discrete black leather and is sporting an expectant smile, as are almost all the other men. In the silence before the man speaks, Joe realizes that he is the only slave here and thus bound to be the sole focus of attention. The crowd pulls closer and the man speaks: "Welcome! And thank you all for coming. I trust that you will all enjoy fucking doggy here to the fullest. Please make sure that you use both his holes at least once." Joe begins to sweat from near panic. He is to be fucked at both ends by all these men? All of them? Being gang-banged has been a fantasy of his for a long time, but now that he actually sees all the guys who are going to fuck him, he realizes what he is in for. It is entirely possible that he will be unable to walk for several days if all the men in the room take him from behind. He also realizes that this is going to take some time. He has been standing on his elbows and knees for almost an hour and a half already, he has blown the man, he has been whipped, teased and subjected to breathplay. Already his elbows and shoulders, his knees and hips ache and he knows that the gangbanging is going to last for hours and hours. As he moans with fear he realizes that he has never been closer to cuming without being touched. He is so hard it hurts and his cock is doing pathetic little twitching motions as it prepares for an orgasm that is probably hours away at the very best. Meanwhile the man continues: "Before we start I have three requests: One: Use a condom every time. Two: Use lubrication. Three: Do not allow the bitch to cum. Oh, and one final thing: Do make him deep-throat you and do make sure that you hold it in his throat until he twitches. He so deserves to choke on you. Now let's get started. Enjoy!" There is wild applause and laughter and then all the men turn their hungry eyes at Joe, standing on all fours, just waiting to be fucked.
He doesn't have to wait more than a few seconds before the first pair is upon him. They have put on their rubbers quickly and lubing Joe's waiting ass doesn't take long and in two quick thrusts they have penetrated him. The fucking is vigorous, needy and more than a little violent. The guy holding his head makes sure that he spends more than enough time in Joe's throat. Joe barely has time to breathe as the guy pounds his cock in and out of his throat. The guy drilling Joe's ass has a vice-grip on his hips, a fair-sized cock and is fucking a near-inhuman pace. They are abusing Joe as brutally as they know how and Joe is loving it. For horny guys they take an awful long time, but when they finally finish, of course leaving Joe even more frustrated, two new guys stand by to take over immediately. The switch is so fast that he barely has time to catch his breath before a new cock pushes into his throat and a fresh dick rams up his ass. This time the guy fucking his face is so huge that Joe has trouble taking him in is throat and panic fills him as the oversized cock enters it. Not that it bothers the guy, who merely pushes harder to get it down Joe's throat. And not only is he huge, he also likes to keep is cock in Joe's throat until spots appear before Joe's eyes and his arms and legs start to give way. Not only does it fill Joe up with an extra strong dose of that familiar blend of fear and arousal, but it also prolongs the fucking a great deal as the guy isn't moving his cock around a lot. While Joe is being choked by a huge cock at one end, his other end is being subjected to what can only be described as an almost desperate fucking at the other. The guy gripping Joe's hips is hammering away at his ass at an incredible pace, a pistons seemingly unable to cum. The fucking is exhausting and lasts forever. When it finally ends another blindingly fast switch takes place. This time it is the cock entering Joe from behind that is huge. So huge in fact that Joe would scream had it not been for the cock being forced down his throat. This time the pace is more human, but Joe moans and whimpers at every chance as he feels the huge cock stretching his ass unbearably.
It goes on and on. As soon as one guy finishes, new one takes his place. Out of the corner of his eye Joe can see the bucket for used condoms filling up. His ass and the insides of his thighs are slick with lubrication. The ache in his limbs become a burning pain, his ass feels stretched beyond capacity, on its way to becoming permanently damaged and his throat is raw from all the deepthroating he has done. Joe's cock tells him that he loves, even if his brain tries to tell him that he doesn't. And still they keep coming. One guy is so fond of breathplaying that he makes Joe pass out six times before he cums. Another guy works his cock in such a way that he is almost in Joe's throat all the time, only just allowing Joe to breathe while the guys cock lingers at the edge of his throat. Yet another guys is so huge and so vigorous that he pounds Joe so forcefully and for so long that he nearly passes out from the beating his ass takes. Joe is exhausted and yet his painful erection tells him that he needs this. The fucking goes on. Guy after guy makes ever longer assaults on his face and ass, as their initial lust is sated; their second and third fucks take longer and are more thorough. All the individual fucks blend in to one endless fuck as Joe is depleted of strength. His whole body is in pain and he is not sure if he can go on much longer without passing out from exhaustion. Still his rock-hard cock is there informing him that he still loves this.
And then finally, mercifully, it's over. Joe stands on all fours, his limbs shaking with exhaustion. His cock is the only part of him that isn't ready to lie down and sleep. Standing a few paces in front of him is the only man in the room who hasn't fucked Joe at least twice. In fact the man hasn't touched Joe since they were by the car, hours ago. The man smiles sadistically down at Joe and says: "Will the gentlemen I talked with earlier please step forward?" Five burly men step up and Joe knows that his ordeal is not over yet. He doesn't remember any individual cocks, but he suspects that these were among the very large. The man's sadistic smile widens as he says to the five guys: "Please proceed as we agreed." The five men roll up their sleeves and Joe sees that they all have exceptionally large arms and very, very large hands. As they all make fists and smile at Joe, he realizes that this not about the size of their cocks. It is about the size of their hands. Joe looses control and begins to keen with fear as he realizes that he is about to get fisted by no less than five guys with fists so huge he can barely believe it. He wants to scream but doesn't have the energy. He wants to run away, but he is too afraid. Too afraid of the punishment that would follow such an attempted escape. So afraid of the fistings to come that is paralyzes him.
The men take up position. Two hold his arms, two hold his legs and the fifth man lubes up his truly massive fist, making sure that Joe can see it. Then he moves behind him and begins. Joe tries to relax, to let the guy in without too much pain since he knows there is no way around this. But it is no good. The guy strains and grunts as he tries to break past Joe's sphincter. It is hard work and for Joe the pain is unbelievable. He screams and moans as the guy tries to defeat Joe's ass. Finally, with a sensation that tells Joe that something in his ass has been broken beyond repair, the guys enormous fist slide all the way into him. His screams turn into low, unarticulated gurgles as he is longer able gather enough breath to scream. The fist fills him up completely. He is so full his whole body feels it, feels the pain and discomfort of it. His breathing is hampered and it feels like the fist is pressing against his lungs. This is the worst Joe has ever been subjected to and his throbbing cock tells him unequivocally just what a pain-slut he is, just how much he loves abuse of the most brutal kind.
Then the fist starts to move around. First is rotates, twisting Joe's gut with it. Joe is paralyzed with extreme discomfort. Then the fist begins to move back and forth ever so slightly, like an enormous, but relatively gentle fuck. Joe is unable to move, his breath shallow and ragged. The movements become bigger and bigger, pounding him as vigorously as the most savage of the fucks he has just received, but infinitely bigger. The fist pops out of Joe's ass and for the briefest of moments he is immensely relieved that it is finally over. Then it forces its way back in and Joe almost begins to cry with defeat. He can't take any more of this. But the fist doesn't care. It resumes its merciless pounding, its ruthless filling of his insides as it opens up Joe in a way he never intended for it do. The room and all the men in it disappear. Joe is aware of only three things: The enormous fist filling him up, his own cock telling him that he not only wants, but needs this, and finally he is aware of the man who ordered this done to Joe, who has enforced his will on Joe, once again bringing Joe completely and totally under his control.
Finally the fist is pulled out and Joe's body sags as he almost cries with relief. But it is far from over and as Joe sees the next guy, who has an even larger fist, move in front of him to lubricate his fist, he does begin to cry in defeat.
This time the fist has an easier time getting in, as Joe's asshole is already broken, but the it is larger and thus fills Joe out even more. It is also more thorough in its movements, lingering longer in all the places that cause Joe the most discomfort and pain. It pushes in deeper and it stays longer. Joe faints during this, but when he is slapped into consciousness, he is still standing on all fours, held up by the men and the fist is still inside his ass continuing its relentless probing. Joe has lost all contact with the outside world. The man's cruel smile, keeping him forever imprisoned, is all he sees.
After that fist are three more, each one bigger than the one before and each one pushing further up his insides and staying there for longer. When the last is finally withdrawn, Joe can feel the cool air enter his open ass unimpeded. His ass has been permanently damaged and with this ordeal also his mind. Joe was already a slave broken to his master's will, but now he has been brought down even further, stripped, beaten and abused to a degree he will never recover from. Now there is truly nothing he can refuse the man and no one he will not regard as his superior.
But as Joe stands with trembling limbs, barely able to do even that anymore, the man provides a suitably degrading end to the gangbanging. Joe doesn't hear the words, but at the man's command a tight circle is formed around him of men, all holding their cocks. Then they all let go and Joe is showered with urine. Every square inch of his body is showered with salty and smelly piss, his eyes burning with it as it runs down his face. When it is over, the next team steps up and releases their stream and so it continues until all have emptied their bladders over Joe, leaving him completely soaked. As the rest of the men leave the room only the man and Joe remain. Joe is shaking with exhaustion, pain and humiliation and barely able to stand, his vision blurred by all the urine in his eyes and his ass damaged beyond repair. The man stands directly in front of Joe. He says: "Roll over boy." Joe rolls onto his back and as he does, all the urine that had run into the rubber bags imprisoning his arms and legs empties over him, providing the last golden shower. Or rather nearly the last. As Joe is once again standing on all fours the man orders him to tilt his head back and swallow what is coming. He then empties his very full bladder into Joe's eagerly waiting mouth. Joe is careful to swallow it all, not missing a single drop. He may be near collapse from the brutal abuse, but his cock is still hard and his compete and utter devotion to the man is even more powerful than before.
Once he has emptied his bladder and Joe has swallowed it all, the man pats Joe's head and says: "Good boy." Then he takes the leash and leads Joe to the car. Joe is swelling with joy, his broken mind reveling in the knowledge that he is just a slave, a disgusting little doggy-slave that the man controls completely and utterly.
The ride back to Joe's place is uneventful. It is very early Sunday morning and the town is still mostly asleep. But as the man lifts Joe out of the car the paperboy passes by with the Sunday newspaper. Only he isn't a boy. He looks more like a college student and is clearly in his early twenties. He also looks very fit. He stops cold when he sees Joe and looks absolutely shocked. The man remains completely unfazed as he locks up the car and grabs Joe's leash and prepares to lead Joe indoors. The paperboy meanwhile, is over his shock and has realized that the situation is not illegal, merely perverse. He has also noticed the rank smell of urine emanating from the doggy-slave in front of him. He is clearly unsure of what to do until the man asks him: "How would you like to make a hundred dollars?" He is clearly interested now and so is Joe. The man paying this stranger one hundred dollars can only spell trouble for Joe. The paperboy is silent for a while and then asks: "What do I have to do?" To this the man smiles and says: "I'd like a newspaper." The paperboy is about to object when the man continues: "But I want it as a single roll, delivered as far up his ass as you can possibly push it." He points at Joe who gives a small shriek of panic. As the paperboy considers, the man finishes: "I want it so far up, that no more than an inch of it sticks out, further if you can do it." While Joe starts to breathe fast and shallow, the paperboy thinks about it. Then he nods in agreement and starts to roll up a newspaper, including all the Sunday specials. The roll is huge; with a diameter easily matching that of the biggest fists Joe's had roaming around his now broken ass. This time it's the man holding Joe while the paperboy works the roll into Joe's ass. And he really has to work. Not only is it huge, but also there is now no lubrication and the paper itself soaks up any moisture that might aid the process. It is immensely painful, but Joe is so weak from the ordeal he already been through, that only weak croaks escape him. Finally the paper is all the way in and Joe is again breathing in short gasps as the paper now takes up all the space in his insides. And what's more, he can feel it grow slowly as it absorbs more and more water from Joe, swelling as it does. The paperboy is sweating and panting with the exertion as he accepts the one hundred dollars from the man. He looks down at Joe's swollen cock and remarks: "He likes it, doesn't he?" The man chuckles and replies: "Oh, yes you can be damn sure of that." The paperboy nods and makes to continue his route when the man asks: "You should knock on the slut's door sometime," he indicates where Joe lives, "and give him a good fucking." This time the paperboy smiles for the first time and says: "Well, I'm usually not into guys, but I guess I'll try this slut out sometime. Thanks!" With that he runs off smiling. Joe's life has just moved further out of his control, but all he can focus on now, is the enormous roll steadily expanding inside his ass. The man pays it no heed but just leads Joe inside.
As the front door closes behind them, the man does not stop to release Joe. Instead he leads him into the bathroom. This makes sense to Joe as he smells extremely badly and a nice bath would be very nice after the night's punishments and fuckings. But the man does not release Joe. He doesn't even pour some water over him. No, the man orders Joe to sit. Then he removes Joe's leash and loops it around Joe's throat. Unzipping his pants, he shoves his hard cock into Joe's mouth and begins to fuck his face. At the same time he tightens the leash around Joe's neck, strangling him. Being allowed to service the man, while being strangled by him at the same time is almost too much for Joe and his throbbing and needy member is on the verge of exploding. It is, however, not Joe who explodes but the man, depositing his cum in Joe's mouth and throat. Joe is unable to swallow as his throat is closed by the strangling leash and instead Joe twitches and spasms from lack of air as the man finishes his face-fucking of Joe, while Joe himself looses consciousness.
When he comes to, Joe can feel the man's cum dribble out of his still forcibly opened mouth. The man is standing above him as Joe lies on the cold bathroom floor and the second he sees Joe has regained consciousness, he commands Joe to sit. With considerable effort Joe manages to sit before the man. The leash is still looped around his throat and to his terror and delight the man once again grips it tightly. He tightens it until it is just squeezing Joe's neck uncomfortably. Then he steps on Joe's still erect cock, squeezing the head of Joe's cock between the cold tile floor of the bathroom and the rough underside of his boot. "Go ahead doggy," the man says, "you may fuck my boot." It takes a second to sink in, but then Joe start to hump the man's leg furiously, like the pathetic, little dog he is. The bathroom floor doesn't feel nice against his exposed cock head, but the sole of the man's boot is outright murder on this most tender part of him. It doesn't matter. Joe fucks the man's boot like crazy, wrapping his folded up arms around his leg for support. As Joe moves closer and closer to his climax, the man tightens the leash more and more until Joe's breath is cut off completely. When he cums spots have begun appearing in front of his eyes and he has lost al control over his body. It jerks and twists, spasms and convulses, as Joe erupts into one of the most massive orgasms of his life. As the cum continues to pump out of him, he is engulfed in the fabulous orgasm, which is amplified many times by the fact that he being strangled at the same time. Finally Joe has no more to give and as the last cum pumps out of his cock, he looses consciousness, his face purple, his eyes almost popping out of his head, completely bloodshot. The man holds him longer than usual this time, savoring the look of Joe's swollen tongue hanging out of his mouth and the little twitches still left in him. Then finally, just before its too late, he removes the leash and lets Joe drop to the floor.
Joe wakes up coughing and retching, close to panic as he feels that he has come much closer this time than any of the other times this has happened. But he also feels good. No, he feels fantastic. He has had a fabulous orgasm and he has shown his devotion to his master, just as the man has shown Joe that he cares by arranging this brutal and demeaning ordeal for him. To show his appreciation Joe tries to lick up the cum on the floor and thus communicate his love and devotion to his cruel master.
While the floor is slowly cleaned the man laughs quietly. Then, when the floor is spotless, he kneels down and pats Joe on the cheek: "Time to sleep doggy." Joe moans both from gratitude and discomfort as the ever-growing paper is still in his ass. The man again chuckles softly and says: "No doggy, that stays." Then he fastens a thick rubber blindfold over Joe's eyes and ties him by the neck to the toilet.
He leaves Joe on the cold bathroom floor his arms and legs still tied, his hands in mittens and his feet in very painful ballet boots. Joe is still wearing a collar, the huge ring-gag still holds his mouth so open that he fears he will never be able to close his mouth properly and he is equipped with a new blindfold. And in Joe's much abused and broken asshole resides a huge newspaper roll, expanding ever so slowly.
With the taste of the bathroom floor, his own cum and the man's boots in his mouth, Joe falls asleep filled with deep gratitude towards the man.
THE END
By 2NN