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……..When I wake up in the morning
And the 'larm lets out a warning
I don't think I'll ever make it on time….
This is what happens when I watch
wholesome TV. Feel free to not comment ;)
Pinkybell
Slater saw him at the bar, sitting quietly and blankly watching the news on the screen. He was still gorgeous, all blond and blue-eyed and perfectly dressed – Preppy had just become full grown, all GQ man now. But Slater could see the frayed edges, had known Zach too long to be fooled by that immaculate front. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen him in over two years – nothing had changed. Nothing, except one little thing.
“Preppy.”
Zach turned, smiled his
bright smile which quickly dimmed when he realised who it was. Said it all
really. “Slater.”
Slater held up his
hands, slid easily into the stool beside him. “I know, I know. I’ve been busy.
Don’t give me that look.” Zach didn’t bite, just turned back to his drink and –
he looked really good. “You look really good.” That got a reaction. A quick
jerk of the head, surprised eyes all big and blue. “You’ve lost weight. Suits
you.”
“Mom doesn’t think so.”
Slater shrugged. “She’s
your mom.”
Zach shifted in his
seat. Slater watched, liking the almost shy vibe coming off his friend, the way
those eyes had trouble keeping eye contact for long. If he was reading this
right, this might go easier than he’d anticipated.
“Me, I think you could
do with losing more. That bulked up look wasn’t you.”
Zach shifted again. He
didn’t say anything, and Zach lost for words was enough of a novelty that
Slater leaned closer, grinning. “You blushing?”
“Fuck you.”
Slater leaned closer,
then backed away. “Buy you a drink?”
Zach shook his head.
“I’m -.” And that was a blush. Looked like the cluebus had hit. And hit on
target. He’d suspected it was a mutual thing, the Thing that had never happened
between them in school, but now he knew. Suddenly buzzed and hard, he stood up
abruptly, waving the bartender over.
“A couple of whatever
he’s having, and two Coronas. Send it up to 513.”
Zach hesitated only
briefly, finishing up his drink in one gulp before following him out to the
elevators. The ride up was uncomfortable, and not only because his dick was
dying to be set free – which it was going to be soon, and thinking thoughts
like that wasn’t helping. He bit his lip, holding back a groan. He didn’t look
at Zach, not even when they were walking to his room, not until the door shut
behind them and two steps was all Zach took before Slater was on him, pushing
him back against the door and kissing that pouty mouth.
And Zach was kissing
back.
~~
There wasn’t any
talking, no discussion about who was doing what to whom. Slater knew what he
wanted and it seemed Zach was on the same page. There was a quick rummage
through his pockets for the lube, something he’d put in optimistically, and
Zach was lying on his front, naked and lightly tanned white flesh gleaming and
making him close his eyes and strangle his dick to stop himself from coming.
He managed to dab on
some lube on his dick before he was clutching that body, holding on to those
wrists and thrusting in hard. It took a few hard thrusts to get his dick in,
and when he did feel that hole clench around him, his body just took control
and all he could do was rut like some mindless animal and he knew he was going
in too hard, too rough, knew it in the back of his mind where he could still
think, but he couldn’t stop. His grip tightened on the wrists, and he was
grunting and cursing and fucking harder than he’d ever fucked in his life.
And when he came, it
was a whiteout, a flash in his head that blinded him and made him yell and bite
and growl it was so fucking good all over.
~~
Six weeks in, and he
couldn’t get enough. Every spare second he got, the first thought in his head
was Zach. Like now. Slater took out his cellphone, ignoring the knowing smirk
Don sent to Felicity.
“Hey,” Zach said, smile
clear in his voice.
Slater grinned. He
leaned back against the wall, forgetting all about his curious team. “Hey
yourself. Busy?”
“Always.” Deep sigh.
Voices in the background, Zach muttering something back. “How did it go?”
“Great. Fantastic. I’m
taking you out tonight.”
“I can’t – I’ve got
this -.”
“I’m taking you out
tonight.Wear the red thing.” And his dick twitched at the memory of Zach in the
red panties.
“Slater!” But Zach was
laughing. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“Pick you up at 7.”
“But – yeah, fine, ok.
7.” Zach gave in. He always did, and Slater loved it. They never spoke about
it, but they didn’t have to. They fit, yin and yang. It was perfect. “But come
to the office.”
“You got your red
panties on now?”
There was a brief
silence. “No.”
“Then I’m picking you
up at home. 7.”
He hung up, not worried
in the least. Zach would be home at 7.
That night, in the
alley behind Henry’s, he had Zach on his knees, jeans pulled down and his red
panties clear for any passersby to see. His dick was deep down that throat, and
he never tired of watching that pretty face suck him. Slick lips, saliva
drooling out of the sides and dripping down the chin, his balls making wet
slapping sounds as he fucked that mouth, and his hands clenched tight in the
blond hair, much easier now that Zach was growing it out. Because Slater had
told him he wanted longer hair.
~~
“You’re working too
much. Cut down.”
“I can’t cut down -.”
“Then quit.”
“It’s going to be the
same at every company.”
“So quit and stay quit.
You don’t need to work.”
“Because I’m rich? –
Hate to break this to you, Slater, but I’m not.”
“Because I’m rich and
I’ll look after you. Move in with me, that’ll make looking after you easier.
Move in with me. Quit.”
“I’m serious. I want to
see you every day, not a few days in a week. And I don’t want to wake up and
find you gone again. I hate that. Move in with me, quit. I’ll look after you, you
look after me. It’ll be perfect.”
It had taken Slater not
returning calls for three days for Zach to give in and quit and to move in with
Slater. Slater had never felt so powerful in his life – he’d made Zach his
housewife.
~~
It was their one year anniversary.
Slater was taking him out to dinner. Dress sexy, Slater had said, which hadn’t
helped much as he always dressed sexy even when he wasn’t planning on leaving
the house, because Slater was who he dressed for.
Zach looked at himself
in the mirror. One year, that’s all it had been, but it felt like years. He
could barely recognise himself. Gone was Preppy, although Slater sometimes
still called him that, and in his place was Baby.
Skintight light pink
tank top, wide scoop neck and leaving his belly button bare and tight black
leather hipsters hung low on his slim hips, so much slimmer now than they’d
ever been as Slater liked him thin, didn’t like him muscled. It showed off his
tats - a stylised S on his biceps, the back of his neck, at his navel and the
small of his back – and Slater always liked that, liked seeing his initial on
Zach from every angle.
He liked doing what
Slater liked. It had been hard to face, this submissive need, but giving in to
it and being with Slater felt too good to resist and one year on, he was quite
happily being femme for Slater. For his man.
His dick twitched at
that – his man – and he winced as his cock cage punished him for it. It was
part of the chastity belt Slater had gifted him with 43 days ago. And he hadn’t
been out of it for 43 days. He was so frustrated all the time, and it was like
every minute of the day was taken up thinking about sex. But it was their
anniversary today, so he was quite hopeful there would not be a day 44.
Zach stretched, arms up
high and watched as his hipsters let peek out a hint of his red silk panties.
He stroked it with an immaculately manicured finger – he’d spent over three
hours at the spa today, and his nails were nice and long and a glossy frosty
pink. He was also perfectly smooth and hairless, and his face was still
tingling from the new treatment Andre had applied. His crotch and ass though,
were feeling quite numb – and his face flamed again at the memory of being
naked in front of Andre, revealing his chastity belt.
Is that the one with
the electroshock pager in the cage and butt plug? Andre had asked, all curious
and looking not in the least bit shocked. But then, it was a gay spa, so maybe
it was quite commonplace.
He’d nodded, blushing.
Pager. Nice way of saying punishment device. He supposed it could be used as a
pager, where an electric shock in your cock and balls, or in your ass, let you
know your man wanted your attention, but the only time Slater had used it was
as punishment and with good reason. It hurt like hell, making him crumple to
the floor, flopping around as his muscles went out of control. He’d vomitted
all over himself one time when Slater had kept it going on too long. But it was
ok, because Slater didn’t use it often, because Zach was very good and tried to
please Slater, and not only because he was afraid of punishment, but because he
honestly wanted to and liked pleasing Slater. It had quickly become the most
important thing in his life.
Slater was the most
important thing in his life.
Zach smiled goofily,
and did a little twirl on his pink kitten heels.
He was in love. He
thought he’d been in love before, had married Kelly – stupid mistake. That
hadn’t been love. He’d never felt this level of obsessive need with Kelly. He
loved Slater. This was his true love.
Why else would he be
the way he was now if it wasn’t true love? People laughed at him now, when once
he’d been the most popular guy around. Guys had wanted to be him, girls had
wanted him. Now, people spit on him on the street, and he was frequently the
target of fagbashing, but he put up with it because Slater liked the way he
was, the way he looked. Slater wanted him this way, and what Slater wanted was
the only thing that mattered.
The tight top clearly
showed his pierced tits. Big steel rings, heavy and obvious through the thin
fabric, hung down from his nipples. And the other set, bigger still, hung down
from behind his nipples, the rings deeply embedded through his chest muscles.
Another steel ring was at his belly button, and a pair in his ears. And one at
the tip of his tongue, big enough to interfere with his speech. It made him
lisp, and Slater liked that. The more sub and femme he was, the more Slater
liked it, so even though he had hated it when Slater had taken him to get the
piercings done, had cried when he’d seen the end result, Slater loved it. So he
loved them too now.
Five more big steel
studs in his tongue made his speech even worse, but again, Slater liked it.
Especially as it had made blowjobs even better.
More rings hung from
his balls, smaller ones that practically covered his balls and made his balls
look like they were in some kind of metallic bag. His dick though, had the
heaviest, biggest ring hanging off the tip. After getting him circumcised,
Slater hadn’t wanted his dick to be able to rise, and the heavy ring certainly
made it difficult. It had also made it impossible for him to fuck anything,
which had soothed Slater’s jealousy somewhat. His dick hadn’t been inside
anyone since he’d hooked up with Slater, not even in Slater’s mouth. Or his
fist. Or his own fist. If Zach wanted to come, if he was allowed to come, he
had to rub his dick on something, usually carpet.
But he had the chastity
belt now and that had become the main way for Slater to control his dick.
There were piercings in
his ass too, around his hole, but ones placed under the skin. They looked like
ten little bumps in his skin. Slater had loved it when he’d first tried them
out. He loved fucking Zach’s ass, he’d said, but the piercings just took it to
another level.
The buzzer sounded, and
hurriedly Zach lined his eyes with black kohl, brushed on some black mascara.
Pale pink glossy lipstick, one last brushing of powder over his face, and he
was set. The buzzer sounded again. He fluffed up his long blond hair and taking
a deep breath, grabbed his handbag and opened the door.
~~
He opened the small
jewellery box, expecting a ring and finding it. But it didn’t look like any
engagement ring. It was thick steel, and looked too big for his finger. His
stomach fluttered nervously again, but not in excitement this time.
“What is it?”
“I’m asking you to
marry me, Baby,” Slater said, grinning and rolling his eyes. He was on bended
knee. “I thought that was obvious.”
They were at Sol Park,
a small space in a corner of the city that had become one of their special
places. He had sucked Slater here for the first time, three days after they’d
fucked for the first time. Slater had leaned back against a tree, the one right
behind Zach’s back right now, and Zach had been on his knees giving his first
ever blowjob, ever. It had been clumsy, couldn’t have been any good especially
now that he was so good at it and knew the do’s and don’t’s, but Slater had
reacted like it was the best thing in the world, had quickly turned them
around, and Zach had found himself with his head trapped between the tree and
Slater’s crotch. Slater had pounded into his mouth, into his face, and his head
had thumped back against the tree repeatedly. It had been painful and his lungs
had hurt from lack of air, and yet he hadn’t tried to stop Slater. Just like he
hadn’t protested when Slater had fucked him so viciously that first time,
leaving his ass torn and bleeding.
It just never occurred
to him to protest.
“It won’t fit my
finger.”
Slater frowned. “Of
course not. It’s for your nose.”
Zach blinked, feeling a
sudden urge to run. As if reading his mind, Slater stood up and pressed him
back against the tree, kissing his neck and giving a light bite. It was meant
to soothe and to be a light warning to behave.
“I thought you said you
didn’t want that.” And he definitely didn’t. He was Slater’s girl, and he’d
accepted that, and he wanted to do everything Slater wanted of him, but a ring
in his septum – he felt his face flame at just thinking of the humiliation of
it.
“I said it would out
me. And it will. And I’m fine with that now.” Slater pulled back, but kept his
body firmly pressed against Zach’s. “My job is secure no matter what – Trenton
and I became partners on Monday. My own company, Baby. Now, where’s my good
girl?”
Slater kissing his
neck, gently thrusting against his caged crotch. 43 days. He groaned as his
dick strained painfully against its cage.
“I’m waiting,” Slater
said, pulling sharply on one of his nipple rings. Zach squealed, quickly
silenced by Slater’s hand over his mouth. His dick was hurting so much, and it
was stupid even trying to resist Slater. He couldn’t resist Slater. He didn’t
really want to.
“Yes,” he breathed
against Slater’s palm.
An hour later, he was
hanging off Slater’s arm, newly nose-ringed, and walking into a new restaurant.
Gay restaurant, he thought with some relief, as he discreetly looked around.
His nose hurt, ached, and the ring felt heavy and cold on his upper lip. It
wasn’t a piece of jewellery, or delicate – it was a heavy ring of dull grey
steel and a sign as sure as any slave collar. If anyone still had any doubt as
to how their relationship worked. Slater had always been blatantly controlling
around him, and everyone could tell who wore the panties in their partnership.
Slater led them to a
table at the back, nicely apart from the rest of the place. There were a few
men there, which surprised Zach; he’d thought this was going to be a private
celebration.
“This is Zach, my
fiance,” Slater said proudly, and Zach blushed. “Baby, this is Grant, Brandon,
Koln and that big guy is Trenton, my new partner in crime.”
~~
“Open your mouth,
bitch.”
Zach opened his mouth,
not even flinching when Koln hawked loudly and spit a glob of yellow phlegm
into his mouth. The last few days had made him resigned to this kind of
treatment. He kept his mouth open – you didn’t swallow until you were given
permission. You didn’t do anything unless you were given permission. It had
been hard to learn, but he’d learnt.
“Kneel. Face down. Hold
my cigar until I get back.”
The lit cigar was
shoved into his ass, and he was trained enough now to react with only slight
shaking.
“What do we have here?”
A hard tug on his hair
had him nearly lose his balance, but he adjusted just in time and looked up
into the blackest face he’d ever seen. Another tug had him scrambling to his
feet, and he was still looking up. The man was huge. And he was still pulling
on his hair and Zach was teetering on his toes, eyes watering as he practically
hung by his hair.
“I’m Ali, but pretty
pigs like you call me Sir. What’s your name, pig?”
“That’s Slater’s cunt,
Ali. Married it, the whole shebang.” Grant slapped the man on the back, trying
to lead him away. “Let me show you more.”
“No need.” Ali tugged
on the hair he still held, and Zach stumbled closer. He squealed as fingers
wrapped around his balls and lifted. “This doesn’t look very married.”
“Slater’s generous.
Seriously though, there are real girls this way – and much prettier than that
wannabe.”
~~
His wrists were tied to
the middle of the spreader bar, and his ankles were raised up and tied to the
ends of the bar. He hung in the centre of the room, twisted slowly one way,
then the other, open and vulnerable.
Slater watched the
video play out, jerking himself off leisurely.
He’d watched it about
ten times already, but he just couldn’t get enough. Ali knew how to treat a
pig, that was for sure, and watching him break Zach was even better than he’d
expected. His dick was all worn out.
Ali had injected some
liquid into Zach’s balls, and they were the lowest part of him now, hanging
down like some grotesquely swollen fruit.
“He wants to keep him,”
Trenton said, coming into the room and flopping down onto the sofa. He grabbed
the remote and turned the volume up. “Must be all that blond hair – blondes
drive the Arabs wild.”
“He can’t have him,”
Slater murmurred, eyes not leaving the screen. Zach jerked, screamed, a spark
of light at his balls showing why. Ali was shocking the shit out of those
balls, or rather, the shit out of Zach as the pain had loosened his bowels and
dribbles of brown shit was leaking out of his ass and onto the floor. There was
coarse laughter on-screen, Ali and his men having a good old time. Slater
envied them. Watching it was good, but doing it was so much better.
“How’s the Romero phase
going?”
Slater sighed, annoyed
at being distracted from the show and at the Romero mess. “Nowhere. It’s going
fucking nowhere.” Hundreds of millions of dollars, that was the loss he was
looking at with Romero.
“You could ask Ali to
buy into it.”
And that was something
he had considered, but he’d known Ali would ask for Zach as an incentive. The
black Arab had taken a real liking to Zach, although ‘like’ was not exactly the
right word for it. On screen, Ali’s face was seen briefly, dark eyes burning
with hatred and laughter as he repeatedly pressed the button to shock Zach’s
balls, then he kept the button held down. The camera switched to Zach again,
and he was jerking about like a fish on a hook. Shit and piss spurted out, but
he wasn’t screaming anymore – he was too busy vomitting all over himself.
Slater squeezed his
dick hard. He didn’t want to come so soon again.
“You should ask Ali.”
He turned and looked at
Trenton, seeing the fat white face red and shiny with sweat. His shirt was
gone, probably back in one of the fuck rooms, and the rolls of white pasty skin
on show was disgusting. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that the
Romero fuck up could have wider consequences than spoiling your reputation. Ask
Ali.” Trenton’s pale grey eyes met his seriously, and Slater knew he wasn’t
going to have a choice. “You’ve got a gorgeous wife with connections, Slater,
who’s expecting your first child. You’re going places.You have me, us, this
place. And pigs are disposable, should be disposable – and that pig there? You
can do better. I can get you a fresh one by the end of the week. Ask Ali.”
Monique. She was
beautiful, and she was giving him a son in less than a month’s time. And her
father adored Slater, and he knew that if he played it right, he would be a
senator within two years. Senator Slater.
“I’ll ask Ali.”
~~
Everything hurt, and he
couldn’t stop crying and begging. I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please, please,
Sir, please, Master, I’ll be good, please, Master, please.
He was stuck in a box,
he’d done something wrong and he’d been beaten and whipped bloody and then
stuck into a box so small his knees were by his ears.. But at least there was a
small light coming from somewhere. Sometimes they put him in the dark, box or
no box, and he hated the dark. He never used to, but now even dark corners were
enough to panic him.
The light was good, but
what he saw wasn’t that reassuring. He saw his own crotch. He was so folded up
that if he’d had a normal dick, he’d be able to suck it, but his dick had been
cut off long ago now. All he had left was a stump maybe an inch long, and
tattooed pink, pierced by a big ring with a little bell. That’s why he was
called Pinkybell now.
His balls hung near his
left tit, big swollen pink balls hanging off yellow flesh. When he was
crawling, they dragged on the floor.
His ass was stained
brown and red – shit and blood. It wasn’t pretty, and stunk. He didn’t know how
long he’d been left, but he’d shit himself twice and pissed more, and he was
lying in that shit and piss mixture.
His tongue had been
trimmed too, and he’d sounded dumb when his mouth had had so many piercings,
but now with a good length of the tip missing, he sounded completely retarded.
He didn’t like to speak much, not that he was allowed to, but he spoke now –
begged – because he was so sorry and he hurt so much.
His teeth were gone.
They’d been made into dentures, but he hadn’t been given them in a long time.
He remembered kidding around with his friends about toothless whores, and now
he was one.
“Master,” he cried
again, voice barely a whisper. His throat was raw from screaming, but while he
still could be heard, he was going to keep on begging. Master might ignore him,
but Master was the only one who could save him. Nobody else. “Master.”
Master hurt him, Master
took the pain away. Master starved him, Master fed him. Master was everything.
Once upon a time, he played at being a slave and now, years later, he was a
real one and there was no safe word and no escape. Master owned him, had the
papers to prove it – the power of life and death over a slave, just like in the
old days. Or what he’d once thought were the old days, but were just normal
everyday life for the people of this desert country.
He was a slave, and
there was no way out but death. The slaves had taught him that, and he hadn’t
believed. But it hadn’t taken long for him to change his mind, before he
understood what he was, before he accepted it.
He’d seen other slaves
with their heels cut, crawling around, unable to walk anymore, and it was
terrifying. However bad it was, it could always get worse – he knew that, and
he tried really hard to please his Master. But he also knew it was nothing to
do with how he behaved in the end. It was all up to Master. If Master wanted to
cut off his slave’s nose, hand, ear, poke out his eyes with a hot poker, Master
would. No amount of good behaviour would spare him from Master’s wants.
“Master,” whimpered
Pinkybell, and cried himself to sleep.
~ the end ~
I was going to make it
longer, expand it, really go into detail, especially on the cock torture and
eventual castration and destruction of Zach – but I ran out of energy. Sorry,
or lucky you. J
(IM me at yahoo:
y_dee_x codotuk)