Date: Sat, 2 Apr 2011 00:24:44 -0700
From: MACK Wayne <mackxwayne@hotmail.com>
Subject: A slave's Induction - Ch

Disclaimer: All rights reserved.  No part of the story can be reproduced in
any form without the express permission of the author, me.


A slave's Induction


Ch 6 -
	Ch 6 - Abject Violation

	Nick and I massaged the Boss together for an hour, with Nick
instructing me on how, and what to do, for the Boss's highest level of
pleasure.  It was obvious Nick had had plenty of practice at it.  Being
allowed - even privileged to touch, and feel, and comfort, and pleasure,
arguably the most beautiful and masculine man in the world, while that same
man has you like this one had me, was creating thoughts that were a hundred
and eighty degrees from each other.  I hated him for the relentless pain I
was suffering, and I worshiped and respected him for the power he had to
give it to me.  The feel of his hairy body was inexplicable.  Every part of
it was a celebration of macho - of manhood.  And he gave ME the privilege
of his nether region.  I made it all feel good, cock, balls, asshole - good
to the point he was responding with moans of delight.
	He was fucking both my body and my mind.  I had only been here a
few days, and he was as present in my head as he was in my bowels - ass and
belly.  I was his toy, and right from the start, he'd been playing with me
like a cat with a mouse.  During the massage, he had as much as told me so,
"I could tell from across the room that you were vulnerable to me.  You saw
us laughing?  We were laughing at, and about you.  One of the things Nick
said that made me laugh, was when I was talking of what I might do with you
and how I was affecting you, he said - like a lamb to the slaughter Boss."
Bill looked up at the naked muscular hairless stud - his seeming # one,
"Right?"
	"Yes Sir Boss," Nick replied.
	I kept reminding myself of the threat of a, "time out," hanging
over me, and I completely internalized the agony of my cramps and pain.
When the Boss had had enough of the massage he sat abruptly up and clapped
his hands together, "Ok boys," he said.  "Lets hit the showers.  You can
wash this oil off me and get me cleaned up.  He had me walk ahead of him so
he could watch the plug keeping my asshole open and my cheeks distortedly
spread.  He said I looked ridiculous and obscene, and that he loved me
struggling just to walk - and even more, to do so upright.
	The large bathroom had a huge shower.  There were multiple shower
nozzles on each side of about a twenty-foot deep room - each with its own
attached hose and each with its own drain.  This end of the room was
completely open without a wall.  There was about a chair height 4X8 raised
platform in the center of the room.  It was tiled like all the rest, but
covered by a thin but dense waterproof pad.  As Nick started a couple of
showers and adjusted them for temperature according to the Boss's
preference, Bill put a hand on my shoulder and said, "I have to piss." He
pushed down lightly on my shoulder and I descended to my knees as he
finished his sentence, "And you're the closest toilet." As I was thanking
him, he stuck his fingers roughly in my mouth, opening it for his cock.
	Having sipped and sucked on his piss for hours from a bucket in the
cage, this would be the first time he pissed in my mouth and I feared
failing.  He started going and I started swallowing to manage the flow.  I
guess fear made me keep up.  There was more, and coming faster than I
imagined it would.  In short order he had pissed my belly completely full
of himself.  "There now. You have me in both ends," he bragged.
	He pulled me by the belt of the harness at my waist to the platform
affair in the middle of the room - how different from his first tug at my
belt line in the bar. He turned my back to the bench, "Sit down," he said.
As my weight came to rest on the plug with the hard unforgiving seat I
tried not to do so, but my, "Thank You Sir!" was not without reaction.  I
yelled it at the top of my lungs, quickly apologized, tried to compose
myself, and spoke it again and again, and finally on the fourth time, my
voice was fairly natural sounding and almost conversational in tone.
	I steeled myself, ready for the worst, but the Master was not to be
second-guessed.  To my amazement he lifted my vocal restriction and said I
could yell, or cry, or holler, or moan, or groan, as loud as needed.
Simply by his will and for his selfish pleasure, he had turned something as
rudimentary as my instinctual hollering from pain, into a matter of
permission - removed it, and now he was giving it back.  It was a graphic
affirmation of his ultimate power.
	He told Nick to take the harness off me and sit me back down.  The
short muscular stud stood me up and unbuckled the harness belt.  He lowered
the assembly to the floor and had me step out of it as my imprisoned
genitals crept slowly out of their hiding places.  With the pressure of the
piss behind it and how stretched I was, it felt like I could blow the
unwanted object of my anal torture right out of me.  Before I could know if
that was possible, Nick pushed me on the chest and I sat back down hard on
it.  Knowing I could yell, I let it rip.  I never would have believed that
just hollering could feel so good, but it did.  I screamed as I formed my
obligatory words of thanks.
	I didn't realize in my pain that I had closed my eyes.  When I
opened them I was sorry I had.  The Boss was standing in front of my seated
form stroking his big, now hard, pussy ripper, and playing with his tits
with the free hand.  A most entrancing sight indeed.  The Boss told Nick to
get lube, which was presented post haste, and he it set next to me on the
bench.  Leaving me seated he thrust his free hand into what I had always
referred to as my personal space - the space around you that is yours - not
usually invaded - in the army it was your, "AO" (area of occupation).  I
had no personal space here - no AO.  Hell. As far as personal goes, my
person had been a gift to the man with the hand in my face.  I had declared
it when I handed him my crotch hair in a box.  My person, as well as its
space, were now his to do with as he wished.
	"Lube my hand bitch," He said.  "Guess what I'm going to do to you.
And I expect you to get it right on the first guess," he added.
	I felt a flush from fear and embarrassment that I knew had to be
showing.  Very sheepishly, with my voice shaky and quiet and unsure, I made
my guess.  I didn't even like hearing the words come from my mouth, "Fist
me Sir?" He made a fist as I continued lubing, and told me to go higher on
his arm.  Nick wiped my hands off and the Boss told me to get on all fours
on the raised platform, and told me what direction to face.  I wished so
badly I could stop this.  Id been fisted once by smaller hands than Bill's.
I'd been tied up and when the guy finally got in me he pulled right out
from my screaming and pleading with him to stop.  And that was years ago.
	I had been longing for the huge black plug to be taken out of me.
Now, it would be removed, only to be replaced by Bill's hand.  I felt the
Boss slathering up the area around my torturously spread ass hole.  He even
forced a finger in alongside the plug and lubed around it.  My groaning
increased considerably.
	Nick roped my wrists to my knees with slack enough not to disturb
their natural supporting position under me, and then wrists to each other,
and knee to knee the same way.  Satisfied with the greasing of my rectal
area, the Boss added some more on himself, "And a little more for me," he
said.  There was a disturbing sound of finality in his tone like he was
ready.  He was.  Nick stepped up on the platform and walked into my view.
I watched his muscular hairless legs and powerful kickboxing feet as he
stepped up to me, till the fronts of his knees were in contact with each of
my shoulders.
	"Ok," Bill said.  "I like going right in.  So your pain and
suffering has all been worth it to me, to enable my quick, Ôno beating
around the bush' entry.  Lets time it." He said with enthusiasm.  "As I
remove the plug, you start counting, Ôone Sir, two Sir, etc, and count till
my hand is in u." He said he would tell me when to start.
	"Ok, ready Tom?" I was never less ready for anything in my life.
When I answered, that I was, he would know that, but it wouldn't matter.
He gets the answers he wants.  That had been made painfully clear.
	"Oh my god," I thought to myself.  It's really going to happen.
He's really going to fist me.  And according to him, this plug has made me
ready to enable his, Ôgoing right in' as he put it.  "PLEASE NO!" is what I
was shouting on the inside.  The answer I gave - "Yes Sir, Boss."
	"Show me how you're going to count." He said.  I gave my sample
count to his approval.  "Ok. Start counting," he instructed. As I began to
count, he pulled on the plug base and by the time I got finished screaming,
"2 Sir," the plug had dilated me to the widest point and I began screaming
the next numbered time demarcation.  On 3, it was leaving me and his piss
was too. At 4, his hand was at the door and pushing in, stopping the piss
flow.  I was barely able to think enough to remember the next number or be
able to shout it out.  But I did somehow, through the blinding anguish, and
by the end of, "5 Sir," he was at his widest knuckle point, and just stayed
there.
	"Keep counting," he yelled over my racket.  I had to remind myself
that begging him to stop, would only make things worse, and I counted, six
and seven and eight and nine.  I felt him pushing slowly and steadily into
me.  "Fuck yeah, " he said.  "My hand's inside you along with my goddamn
stinking waste!" Nick told the Boss it was great, and Bill's answer almost
snapped me, "No.  I can do better than that.  I was doing Tom a favor and
lingering to open him up a little.  Lets go again.  This time I'll go for
speed." I couldn't help it.  My head slumped in disbelief.  The words
played over in my mind, "Doing Tom a favorÉ Opening me up a little," and,
"go again." I couldn't believe it.  I don't even know what the words were
that I yelled.  I think they were, "Oh my God Sir!!"
	Yelling over me, Bill hollered, "I'll give you some time out if you
need it Tom?" Anyone seeing this would think me crazy not to accept his
offer.  They would have no idea what that meant. I turned it down heartily
to his taunting me.  "I don't know," he said, "You sure?"
	"Please Sir," I yelled and begged with belabored words and feeling
his hand moving inside me.  "Please do it again!  I'm sorry if I seemed
less than thankful.  I didn't mean to, Sir." The Boss was quiet.  "I beg
you Sir to do it again.  I want you to be satisfied with your time.  And I
yelled out my mantra, "You first Sir, always and in all things!  Thank you
Sir!"
	"Great!" he said with enthusiasm.  "Lets do it!" He pulled his hand
slowly back - the intensity of my screams increasing from the added pain -
as the rest of the piss ran out with his excruciating withdrawal.  He had
Nick re-grease the plug, which had been washed clean of it by my gut full
of their acidic urine.  As I felt the plug it was moving forward.  No
warning - no pause at the entry.  Bill rammed it in at lightening speed.
It had split me to its widest and was wedged inside me in a few seconds.
Nick hollered over my primordial screams, "Wow Boss.  That was a record for
sure.  You never did it like that before.
	"Good eh?" the Boss beamed.
	"Yes Sir Boss!  Good Sir!"
	Bill rubbed my back just above my ass and spoke just loud enough
for me to hear him.  "Ok Tom," he patted to get my attention, "Ok
bitch. Bring it down a few notches.  Come on back down to earth for me."
His hand felt so good there on my back.  It was so gentle.  He let it
linger on me while I quieted down as ordered.  And with the black monster
still in place, he got in my ear and spoke softly.  "I need for you to
count again." He patted the small of my back again.  It almost felt
affectionate, "Can you do that for me?" Maybe he did it just because he
thought it would wreak havoc with my unstable emotions.  Whether or not
that was the reason, it did.
	"You gonna do a good job for me, to apologize for the things you do
that disappoint and displease me?  You gonna work with me so I can get a
record time for my fist in your pussy?" With the gentleness of his touch
and his low voice whispering in my ear, I kind of blubbered out my answer
in a sudden rush of pure emotion.  "Yes Sir.  I will work with You Sir.
I'm sorry Sir for disappointing you.  I'll do a good job to apologize for
those times."
	He told me he wanted me to push back so Nick didn't have to apply
any more pressure with his legs to my shoulders than was absolutely
necessary.  I was to pretend Nick wasn't even there and to do it on my own.
Nick had bent forward and was greasing around my hole again and then Bill's
hand.  I heard Bill say, "That's enough." and Nick's respectful reply, and
I went rigid from fear.  Now, I knew what to expect.  The Boss saw what I
was doing and told me to think of someplace beautiful and peaceful in my
mind, and let go.  Patiently he coached me to relax.
	As soon as I did, I felt his hand grabbing onto the plug and
started counting. "One Sir!  Two Ssss" was issued in a shout, and before I
could finish hollering the word, the giant plug was yanked from within me.
Instantaneously as I shouted, "three Sir," his hand was pushing on me and
against all that was instinctive and natural, I remembered and pushed back
into it.
	Immediately I knew it was different.  This time he was entering me
with a wider less collapsed hand.  He jammed with atomic force, and I
screamed at the top of my worn out lungs with a voice beginning to fail,
and lost the cadence of my count.  I quickly realized, and yelled, "four!"
And as I was screaming out the word, "Sir!" my ass hole spread to a new
dimension to accommodate the god-man's big hairy hand and he was inside me
with it, with my anus wrapped around his hairy wrist.
	The vision of his hand wrapped around the weight bar in his gym as
I was spotting him came to me - how beautiful it looked - its hairy
knuckles and all.  I never imagined it would be inside me turning me into
what I had heard referred to as a hand puppet.  I had become just that as
he had turned my tortured anus into a bracelet on his wrist.
	"See if you can work your pussy muscle," he shouted.  I knew what
he meant and I tried with all my might, but there was no discernable
response.  The Boss said he'd have been surprised if there had been.  "Go
ahead," he said to Nick.  Nick placed a little breathing apparatus on me
and stretched the elastic around my head to hold it in place. He adjusted
it for perfect position, and informed me about it.  "If you breathe through
your nose you will get poppers.  The Boss doesn't always do this.  You're
very lucky."
	I was not feeling lucky, but I believed him.  As the Boss played
around inside me to my disbelief, I inhaled through my nose and began to
feel better, the second breath, better yet.  And the third and fourth, I
sucked air through the instrument of mercy strapped to my head like there
was no tomorrow, and at present, I was wondering about that possibility.  I
stopped hollering and began moaning and groaning and grunting and floating.
	"There we go," the Boss said quietly.  Much better.  That's enough
poppers for a while," he said.  "Breathe through your mouth for a while."
He twisted and turned his hand and moved his fingers around and then exited
with a collapsed hand.  Bill said now that his septic tank was empty and
his piss wouldn't degrease things, he was going to have a little fun.
	I felt the tips of his fingers as he pushed into me with his
collapsed hand.  I sucked hard on the breather repeatedly. It truly was an
instrument of mercy.  Not hollering, but with a voice completely strained
and distorted and broken up in conjunction with the intensity of the Boss's
activities, the Boss used his new toy for a little bit, exiting and
entering it.  Each time he exited he clenched up and stretched me and
stayed there for a moment before pulling out.  His reentry was almost
immediate and usually fingers first.  By the hardest I was able to keep the
hollering down, opting for loud groans, and other sounds I cant really
describe.  I never heard them coming from me before.
	Bill told Nick to go get something he called by a name I didn't
recognize.  He returned holding something in his hand I wished he hadn't
been sent for.  The bottom of the terrible looking instrument was
essentially, a duplicate of the cone plug I'd had in me.  Out of the top of
it, protruded a thick shaft few inches long, and atop that, sat another
smaller cone all molded as a single unit.
	Bill rolled me over on my back and indicated where on the padded
platform he wanted me.  He told Nick to grease the new plug - while he
explained the next act of sadistic abuse I would be expressing my thanks
for.  "I told you I'm going to go deeper in you.  This means going through
your second sphincter.  Yours is tight as expected.  It hasn't been trained
or used before your time in the cage, right?"
	"Nor had it even been considered as a possibility," I thought to
myself, but I concurred that he was correct.
	"Well, what I'm going to do to the inner one will make things
easier for me, just like the first plug helped to open up the outer one for
me today.  When I think you've adjusted to this one, Nick will put a larger
one in there for me." Bill stepped up on the platform and stood with a foot
on either side of my head.  "Hand me your ankles.  I'll hold your legs up
for you," Bill instructed. I raised my legs into the air, and Bill's big
strong hands met them.  He told me to spread Ôem as wide as I could, and to
keep them spread no matter what.  He pulled them back till my ass was
somewhat in the air and gave Nick an admonition.
	"Remember boy, you're going for speed here.  Tom's going to count
for you.  Right toilet mouth?"
	"Right Sir," with a "Thank You Sir." Was pretty much a standard
reply, which covered the requirements.
	"You remember how to do that right?" Again I repeated the same
response.
	"Ready Nick?"
	"Yes Sir, Boss!"
	"Ok Tom you can start counting."
	I said, "One SsÉ" and before "Sir" could be spoken, the thing that
looked so terrible felt ten times worse.  As I completed the word, "Sir,"
the ass plug entered and snapped into place, the pain deep inside was
unimaginable.  The upper cone had split me open up there in that second
sphincter, and the thick shaft was holding it open.  I hollered, yelled,
shouted and screamed - all.  And while I was doing so, Bill let go of my
ankles.  They fell.  Where I was lying, my ass was all but hanging over the
edge of the platform.  So the effect of my legs falling down to the floor,
tended to make me sit up.  Bill made sure that's just what I did.  He put
his hands in my armpits and lifted me up to a seated position and said one
word, "Stay."
	I sat there, wanting to stop screaming, but I couldn't.  Not only
was my ravaged "pussy" as he was calling it, on fire, but that place up
inside me, ravaged only 24 or so hours earlier, now felt the same Ð worse
actually.  He rubbed the top of my head affectionately.  "You're a fun
toy," he said.  And then to Nick as he stared to walk away, "Get it
harnessed up and bring it to my office."
	Nick picked up the harness and in no time it was retaining the new
instrument of horror in me, just as it had the old one.  In my anguish he
required my help effectively positioning the flat codpiece until all was
secure - my frontal appearance as if I had no genetalia at all.
	I was imagining how walking was going to affect my new appliance -
hell even standing would be unbearable.  The small, perfect, naked,
hairless, man, listened to me yelling and encouraged it.  "Go ahead.  Get
it all out of your system." And then the bad news, "Cause when you go to
the Boss's office your noise abatement requirement will be in effect again.
So take a minute and let it all out.  When you hear the snap of my fingers
in your ear, begin bringing it back down to earth.  You can moan and the
like, but you need to hear what I'm going to say to you.  So keep it low
and subdued."
	I yelled out, "Thank You Sir." And started to try to minimize my
loud way of dealing with the pain.  Nick patted me on the thigh and walked
over to the running showerhead, to luxuriate under the spray of warm water.
He shot some soap into his hand from a dispenser and began to wash himself.
He faced me and lathered up. It was a show to beat all shows. Though he
avoided completely his cock and balls, which pretty much confirmed my
suspicion about them.
	"Talk to me," he said.  "Tell me about it.  I won't tell the Boss."
I thanked him first and hesitated.  "Go on," he said.  "Its ok." He said I
was doing good, coming down on my own.  The slightest commendation was
magnified ten times.  It was so good to hear - something akin to water for
a man dying of thirst.  Then right there before me, he turned around, bent
forward and soaped up his hairless ass crack in my plain view.  Even
hurting like I was, I became stunned like a deer in the headlights, glued
to what I was seeing.  "Go ahead," he said, as he straightened up and
worked on his beautiful ass cheeks next, still letting his fingertips find
the crack, and lingering to wash it some more.  I remembered my face being
roughly ridden by that heavenly crevice and its hairless pucker.
	I did what he said, hoping it was not a test or a trap.  I was
crying, groaning, and yelling to try to cope.  As I writhed, my emotion
filled distorted words, were the perfect compliment.  "It hurtsÉ soooÉmuchÉ
Sir!"
	"Listen," he said, "I'm going to tell you how it is for me and for
you.  I belong to the Boss.  He saved my life and now it's his.  He said
when he found me in the gutter, I reminded him of a stray dog he once
rescued.  He took me from that gutter, a homeless crack addict on the
bottom of the heap and brought me back from certain death that would have
come soon.  He was hard on me.  He hurt me like he's hurting you, and he
kept me here against my will, before he got me dried out.  He worked me out
like the devil and still does.  I hated him till he made me realize he was
the only reason I was alive. He was the reason I could be proud again when
I looked in the mirror.  He fed me what I needed to build back up, and he
made me work hard."
	Nick finished showering, picked a towel off the wall and threw it
at me.  Reacting quickly to catch it, as it was about to hit me in the
face, hurt me deep inside.  "Dry me," he said, and continued on.  I stood
up and it hurt from the tip of the inner cone to the base of the outer one.
Every movement I made to dry the god off, was agonizing - especially
bending over, and kneeling down.  Squatting tightened the crotch strap
against the plug and drove it in further, and again, a little was a lot.
Through my agony I listened intently to his story feeling privileged and
taken aback that he was even telling me.
	"The Boss is not a friend or buddy or pal or employer - although
that's what some who see me with him believe, and that's the way he wants,
and has designed it.  What he IS, is my unquestioned Lord and Master.  What
I am, is the Boss's slave and grunt and pig and boy and gofer and anything
else he wants me to be.  He is my owner, and I am his property.  All
decisions are made with his purposes in mind.  He has complete control and
I obey him unconditionally." He took the towel and rubbed his body, as only
a man can dry himself.  My privileged duty over, he told me to walk around
the platform as he continued on.
	Walking was as bad as bending over and kneeling, only the pain from
bending and kneeling, ebbed just a bit after I had gotten into position.
Walking, I discovered, hurt all the while.  Instinctively, to minimize the
misery, I stepped lightly and wide legged with my shoulders hiked up
practically to my ears trying to work into the difficult task.  Nick
disappeared for a minute and came back with a belt in his hand.  He laid
one across my cheeks with a force I knew would have left an immediate
scarlet welt.  "You know better than that!" he shouted.  Walk as if the
Boss was behind you!"
	I straightened up by the very hardest and took a step and got
another stripe - another step and another stripe. Nick pushed me on my arm
and I landed on the padded platform.  Landing on my side the way I did
would not have mattered at all under normal circumstances, but with the
plug in me, it was a horrendously painful fall.  I yelled out and he
grabbed my balls crushing them.  "Yell again," he said.
	I moaned knowing I could not holler out again.  "Get up!" he
shouted.  I stood, and forced myself to put my feet together, and did all I
knew to do.  I started repeating with an astoundingly strained voice,
"Thank You Sir.  I'm sorry Sir.  Thank You Sir.  I'm sorry Sir." He let me
stammer on while he sat down on the platform holding on to my balls with a
grip like a vise.
	"Keep thanking me and apologizing no matter what, till I tell you
to stop." Then he issued one word, "Walk!" As I took a step, mercifully he
let go of my balls.  I started to walk like I remembered doing before -
only now it was harder, hurt deeper, and although I wouldn't have thought
it possible, felt more humiliating.  I walked and moaned and spoke my two
obligated statements.
	He sat there as I came by him from a full revolution around the
platform and laughed.  "Well at least you're entertaining," he said.  "You
should see yourself.  You can't believe how ridiculous you look and sound.
People that have known and respected you, should see you now - see what you
really are - see you being made to walk with about fifteen inches of plug
harnessed up your pussy - see the angry stripes on your ass from being
beaten just for walking to try to make it hurt less - hear the misery in
your voice as you repeatedly thank me for beating you and apologize for
causing me to have to do so.
	I hadn't really thought about the outside world since I got here.
My focus had been totally redirected.  Hearing him paint the picture, did
make me feel embarrassed - but only for a moment, before the pain in my ass
brought me completely back to the here and now.  The outside world seemed
so far away and immaterial to helping me, it might as well have been Mars.
	Nick ordered me to jog once around the platform and then come and
sit with him.  I tried not to even moan knowing the time was drawing close
I would be taken to the Boss.  I did grunt once with each step.  I
approached Nick and feeling humiliated, stood there unable to sit.  He
patted the pad right next to him, and used the economical, one word
command, "Sit."
	As I did, he told me to get close to him so my leg was tight up
against his. That feeling of humiliation wasn't going away, but now was
accompanied by awkwardness - confusion and uncertainty.  I had always been
self confident - my reasons for it always affirmed in my associations.  He
put his arm around me and all the negative feelings went postal.  There was
no confidence - no self-assurance - no pride - no courage.
	I could smell his light pit aroma where he hadn't soaped himself
and wanted to tell him how good it smelled.  Maybe I would have the chance
to speak it, if I were addressed.
	He put his muscular arm around me and tugged on my shoulder a
little.  What's more, he put my hand on his smooth hairless leg.  My brain
was cross circuiting.  Nick told me to move my hand around and kind of very
lightly massage where it was resting on the inside of his thigh.  I felt
like I was making out in the back of the movie theater when I was in high
school.  He held onto me and talked his talk.
	"My allegiance is to the Boss.  If he told me to kill you, I would
- no questions asked - and dispose of your body.  But he hasn't said that,
and he hasn't said I can't be nice to you when I don't have orders to the
contrary.  So in the spirit of being nice to you, and befriending you, I'm
going to tell you about you.  You are very lucky.  I know it's hard for you
to believe right now, but trust me it is so. You should go into his office
aware of that.  It is seldom he is as lenient with someone as he is being
with you.  He's done some really terrible things to a lot of men that have
passed through here.  He is a premier sadist, as you might believe from the
movies you watched and will become a part of.
	"A number have left in bags, but not till days after they were
begging for one.  When he decides to retire a slave, he pulls out all the
stops for a few days to a week, before.  The other way they leave is being
sold to who ever has the money.  And some of the men with money are real
freaks."
	With his arm over my shoulder, I sat there on my fifteen inch
intruder listening, massaging the thigh of the man telling me he would kill
me if its what the Boss wanted, and informing me of guys leaving here in
body bags, tortured to death.  He was terrifying me, and comforting me at
the same time.  In this place where I'd never felt so isolated or alone, he
felt like a friend at this moment.  He, like the Boss, was not to be
second-guessed.  Each was capable of everything from cold-blooded murder,
to his own brand of compassion.
	There had been an act of compassion in the Boss's rescue of this
man, and he required his slavery as a payback.  But it had worked
unequivocally.  It was obvious Nick was an absolute extension of Bill's
will. Even from where I sat in such pain, something in me allowed for
validation of what was here, and respect for its all-controlling creator.
I was under his complete domination - control and spell.  How I spoke, how
I reacted to his pain, even the way I walked, was by his prescription, to
maximize both my discomfort and his pleasure.  Nick said to eliminate any
misplaced ideas of intrinsic value. He asked if I understood what that
meant, and I concurred.  Any worth I had here was in how carefully I obeyed
- quickly I learned - completely I acquiesced - respectfully I served -
pleasurably I performed - lived up to my all-important mantra.
          Sitting there plugged in astounding pain listening to the words
he was speaking - his arm around me while I rubbed his leg should have been
anathema - but they weren't.  Nick was painting a picture of my, "good
fortune," as to the Boss's lenience with me.  He said if I didn't go into
his office with an appreciation of that, I might end up like the others.
He would give me a short period to prove my allegiance - that if he didn't
see himself when he looked at me, I would not make it.
         "Its obvious the Boss thinks you have potential, "Nick said, "or
you would not be having it so easy.  He's mentioned, he wants a permanent
slave as a new domestic.  It doesn't seem he's taken you to be put down or
sold like the others.  Maybe he believes you have the possibility of
performing in that role.  And believe me," he said with a warning in his
tone, "If that's so, you are about to partake in the most important
interview you could possibly imagine."
	He seemed almost empathetic as he spoke, and definitely so as he
allowed me a few minutes to get quiet, before he took me in to the Boss.
He took his arm from around me.  Something so simple had been so important.
Having done so gave me a sense of yearning for more.  He pulled away to
stand, and my hand lost its connection with Nick's warm thigh.
Instantaneously I missed that too.  What ever he was, what ever he'd done
to me, he had befriended me as well.  Whether it ever happened again or
not, I would remember it had happened here and now.  "Think about what I've
said," he warned as he walked away and disappeared out of the shower.  I
watched his naked ass cheeks do the alluring dance ass cheeks do, when a
man like this, has a bubble butt like his.
	What he'd said sunk into me deep, and with all I had been through -
more, I thought, than any man should have to endure, I realized I really
WAS lucky.  Being quiet was hard but I was succeeding.  I practiced out
loud speaking conversationally.  I was working on hypnotizing myself to
help bear the invasive presence of the intruder in me when Nick returned.
There was nothing in his hand like I feared there might be when he came
back.  As he walked toward me he instructed, "Stand up shithead.  What
you've been waiting for has come. The Boss is ready to allow you some of
his valuable time.
	He aimed me toward the door we'd come in earlier, and gave
instructions from behind me.  "Go!" was the first one.  "Slow!" he barked.
I thought about how ridiculous my ass must appear from behind - how
different from Nick's dancing cheeks from just moments ago.  He steered me
as if by spoken remote.  First, "Left," and then, "Right," and then,
"Stop." My legs were trembling noticeably and I felt faint.  I hoped
informing Nick would be a better decision than falling over so I did, "Sir.
I think I'm going to pass out." He grabbed my head and pulled it down by my
knees and I could feel the blood returning.
	"Ok?" he questioned.  I said I thought I was, and he told me to
come up slowly and take a few deep breaths.  He waited a moment before
knocking at the door.  He placed me so my nose was all but touching the
door as his knuckles hit the wood.
	"That the toy?" It was muffled, but it was unmistakably the Boss's
voice, "Bring it in Nick."
	"Yes Sir Boss." As he pushed the door open exposing my naked form
to the one I feared, I felt embarrassed about my nakedness.  I never
remembered feeling it before, but I was, here, now.  Bill was completely
dressed, so much the worse, for my humiliation.  He held a stogy in one
hand and was writing something with the other. "Put it over there." He
pointed with the back end of his pen without looking up from his work.
	"It," echoed in my head.  My long enjoyed presumption of personhood
was being stripped away and I was being referred to as an object for this
powerful man's purposes.  He saw a living, breathing, painfully stuffed -
thing - being brought before him.  I was a toy for his amusement.  Human
rights would become things of the past - hell - humanity itself was a thing
of the past for me.  How & when I suffered - how & what I learned to think
- how I served - what I did - would all become maters for his disposition
now.  But I looked at the beauty of the man before me and thought about the
words Nick had just spoken to me - the words of his slave and thought how
it could be worse.
	Nick pushed/ guided me to a place about ten feet from the side of
Bill's desk.  He grabbed a towel, put it on the floor and told me to sit on
it.  It was so difficult getting into position, but I did.  And once I did,
the weight of my body on the plug forced it to a new place a little deeper,
and again, a little was a lot.  Nick asked if there was anything more the
Boss wanted, and was told he could leave.  As he walked away I felt alone
and deserted.  My spirit was crying out, "Please don't leave me here." My
voice said nothing as I waited for the Boss to acknowledge me.
	I took the quiet time, to work on psyching myself or hypnotizing
myself, to try and minimize the pain of the plug. I was in a fairly deep
trance when the Boss spoke, positioning himself comfortably at the same
time in his reclining leather office chair.  He pushed back, turned in my
direction, and put his feet up on the desk, crossing his legs.  I felt a
new flush of red appearing on my face I knew he could see.
	His cigar lent itself perfectly to his macho image.  He sucked on
it, turned it around to examine it, and blew smoke rings.  And still
looking at his cigar, he acknowledged me.  "You said you would think about
your decision before giving it to me.  I went out of my way to make sure
you had the opportunity to do that. So talk to me. Tell me where u stand on
the issue of my offer to you."
	The time was at hand, to put into my most carefully chosen words
ever, the things I needed to say.


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