Date: Mon, 16 Jan 2017 21:25:45 -0700
From: Kirk McCorkle <avunculous@gmail.com>
Subject: Damon Caged, Part Three

Part Three: Damon's Collar


Damon's Collar

Part Three of Damon: Caged

by Kirk McCorkle

MM bd chastity puppyplay feet watersports

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This is a work of erotic fiction. All participants are fictional, and are
over eighteen years of age. If reading erotic fiction about adult male
participants that involves sex, sexual servitude, chastity, bondage, and
puppyplay is illegal wherever you are, don't read any further. But you have
my sympathies. I welcome your feedback, and hope you enjoy the story.

_________________________

It was six pm on Saturday when he arrived.

"You know what's going to be particularly fun?" I asked Damon as I opened
the door.

"Umm... what?" Damon stepped inside, looking at me suspiciously.

"Since you're trying to save up time, your worst enemy in the next
twenty-four hours is going to be your cock. The more times I can get you to
cum, the further you're going to be in debt. And the more you're going to
have to do to earn the time you need. You're about six hours ahead right
now, and you're going to need ninety-six hours. So this is going to be fun.
Come on."

I led him back to the bedroom. "Pick out what you want to wear to start
with, puppy. Oh, and I almost forgot!" I opened a drawer and pulled out a
leather contraption. "It's a loincloth with a built-in jockstrap. When you
wear it, you're in domestic servant mode. You think of nothing but serving
me, and you do chores, cleaning and cooking, as well as erotic massage. I
always liked Roman-style house slaves. Three hours for one hour."

Damon looked dubiously at the leather jock. Sunlight glinted off the bronze
buckles and buttons. "Thank you, Master."

"You're welcome, puppy. So, do you have any big plans for how to earn time
today?

Damon looked down at his sneakers. "I thought I'd be a puppy a lot. With
the mask and tail and stuff."

"That sounds pleasant." I smiled at him. He looked apprehensive. "Get your
gear on, then, puppy! Hop to it."

I stood and watched him as he shucked off his shirt and then toed off his
sneakers. He looked up at me as he was leaning against a wall, taking his
socks off. He looked uncertain, like there was something he was missing.
There was, of course.

He seemed a little embarrassed as he pulled his pants down, and then a
little more embarrassed as he pulled down his boxers. I admired his ass as
he went through the boxes of gear, pulled out what he needed, and put it
on. The mask was first, then the knee pads. Then he put the ankle cuffs on
himself, bending over to do so. He buckled on the wrist cuffs. He took the
tail and some lube out into the bedroom, and grabbed a towel from the
nightstand.

I watched as he lubed it up, then lubed up his ass. He was kneeling as he
did it, head down on the bed, reaching around behind himself. Then he
picked up the tail and started putting it in himself. He grunted and whined
while doing it, looking up at me pleadingly from time to time. His cock was
trying to get hard, but it was still locked up.

Watching him struggle to insert the big plug in himself was gratifying, a
humiliating show put on for my benefit. His grimacing eyes behind the puppy
mask, his exquisite ass high in the air as he worked to push the plug into
himself... it was art. When he finally succeeded, I applauded, then laughed
as he let go of the tail and it wagged proudly behind him.

He crawled back into the closet, and got the cockring and put it on. Then
he put his sneakers and the kneepads on, and finally came up to me with the
puppy mitts. He sat back on his knees with the mitts in his hands, begging
me to put them on him.

I took them from him and put one on his left hand. "You know, puppy," I
said as I locked the first cuff in place, "You've got a mask with a muzzle
over your mouth. A tail in your ass. And now," I put the other mitt on his
right hand, locked it closed. "And now you've lost the use of your hands.
There's just one problem."

The puppy cocked his head, puzzled.

I unlocked his cock cage, took it off of him, and put it aside. "I've been
looking forward to seeing you all day. I'm all horny. I want you to make me
cum."

First he looked happy. Then he looked puzzled. Then he looked mad.

I used two padlocks and four-inch length of chain to hobble his ankles
together, then patted him on the head. "I'll give you half an hour to get
me off. If you can, you earn twelve hours. If you can't, well, no harm
done, right?"

I lay back on the bed and watched the puppy struggle to climb up onto it.
The chain between his sneakers kept his legs together, and the kneepads
kept him from standing up. When he got on the bed successfully he crawled
between my legs and looked at my cock a moment. He tried nudging it with
his muzzle. Then he rubbed his face up against it, the leather of the mask
scraping against my cock.

"Hey," I said. "Dog. Too rough."

My puppy made a little whining sound, and tried rubbing against my cock
with his shoulder. It felt sort of pleasant, so I let him do that for a
while. It was pretty evident that it wasn't going to get me close to
cumming, so he started searching for other ways to stimulate me. His cock
wagged behind him as he tried rubbing at my cock with his chest, then his
belly. He tried putting my cock between his forearms, and that worked
pretty well for a while. He spent maybe ten minutes on that one before
realizing that while it could get me close, it wouldn't bring me over the
top.

He whined pathetically as he shifted around and tried putting my cock
between his calves. While I enjoyed the sight of his beskeakered feet,
chains clanking as he tried working my cock between his legs, it was clear
pretty soon that it wasn't going to happen. Frustrated, he turned himself
around awkwardly, straddled my body and started thrusting against my crotch
with his own. His face was up near mine, his eyes closed inside his mask as
he humped me, doglike, trying desperately to get me to cum.

I smiled down at him as he worked. I, of course, had jacked off the night
before. He'd been caged up for days. If it was to be a contest of who could
hold off from cumming the longest, I'd definitely bet on myself.

It only took a couple of minutes before he had to pause. Then he tried
again, but had to stop even sooner. He kept trying, though.

"And it's been half an hour, puppy. I'm sorry, I'm afraid your time has run
out."

Damon deflated with a little hopeless whine.

"Oh, don't worry about it, puppy. You'll have plenty more opportunities to
make me cum. For now, though, I want to play a different game." I pushed
him over on his back, and then chained him spread-eagled to the bed. "Would
you like a blindfold, puppy? I'll give you an hour for it."

He nodded. I fitted the leather blindfold over his mask.

One of the fun parts about being a dom is envisioning what things must
sound like to a blindfolded sub. The sound of chains, the sound of
breathing near you, or not... there are so many ways to mess with someone
who's tied up and blindfolded without even touching them. So once my puppy
was locked down, I took my time. I pulled a heavy-duty extension cord out
of a drawer, plugged it in, and dropped the coil at the side of the bed.
Then I opened another drawer and took out a magic wand style vibrator.

I plugged in the vibrator, put it about a foot away from his head, and
flipped it on. It sounded like a few dozen bees arguing politics. He
flinched away, looking around wildly. I chuckled, and then moved it around
his head a while, amused by his attempts to track it and identify it.

Then I brought it into gentle contact with his nipple. He yelped and his
body arched away from the device. I touched him again, more firmly this
time. He moaned, sounding distant and hollow inside the mask. I teased him
with the wand, holding it against his nipples, kneading it into his thigh
muscles, running it down his chest and belly.

Then I pressed the vibrator against the head of his hard cock, pushing it
up against his belly. He howled, a long soft pathetic howl. I withdrew the
vibrator, laughed, and grabbed a bottle of lube.

I dribbled some lube along Damon's thick cock, then went back at it with
the vibrator. I smeared the lube along it, then worked my way up and down
it a while. Damon had stopped all movement, and looked like he was
concentrating on holding himself back. Fortunately, concentration is
fragile.

I switched the vibrator to high and stuck it in Damon's armpit. He shrieked
through the mask, and then started howling with laughter.

I worked the lubed-up vibrator in his armpit, and he was yanking at his
chains, trying desperately to get away. I pulled it out of one pit and
stuck it in the other one. That got an even better reaction out of him; he
stopped being able to laugh or even breathe. He arched his body away from
the stimulus, but I just kept at him. He was panting, laughing, barking
whenever he could.

I took the wand away and gave him a moment to catch his breath, then I
tickled his right foot with it. I'm glad I use good quality cuffs and that
I'd made a sturdy bedframe. I thought he was going to pull his leg off
trying to get his foot out of that cuff. I tormented him with the wand
mercilessly, gently passing it over his toes, down his soles, pressing it
into his heel. He was in hysterics, laughing so hard he was getting
hypoxic. I switched to the other foot.

His cock was fully hard as I stimulated his foot far beyond what Damon
could reasonably tolerate. He wasn't laughing, just struggling to catch his
breath. When I was sure his concentration was completely destroyed, I
grabbed his cock with one hand and held the vibrator to his cockhead.

He was still struggling to breathe as I jacked his cock, running the
vibrator around the top of his cockhead. By the time he figured out what
was happening he was just about to cum.

The noise he made as he came was half laugh, half despairing sob. His hips
spasmed, his jizz rained down upon his chest, and he fell back in his
bonds, defeated.

I clicked off the wand, unlocked his chains, and then lay down beside him.
I drew patterns in his jizz while I waited for him to come down a bit, and
fed him his jizz off my fingertips through the mask. He licked it off with
little flicks of his tongue.

"So, let's see. For the first hour, you wore the cuffs, the mask, the
cockring, the blindfold, the knee pads, and the mitts. That's six hours.
Plus the six hours you had on the books, twelve hours. You came, so that's
minus twelve hours. But you came while still wearing the cockring, and
without my permission, so that's minus six hours after an hour's work."

He whined. I undid the snaps that held the muzzle to his mask.

"What was that, puppy?"

"It's not fair!" Damon's face was flushed inside the mask. "You can make me
cum whenever you want. I'll never make enough time for the weekend this
way."

"No, you won't. That's true," I said.

"What do you want from me? What can I do?" Damon was close to crying.

I stroked his chest. "I want you to beg me to put the collar on you. I want
you to turn yourself over to me for the next twenty-three hours. Follow my
every command. Answer my every question, completely and honestly. Do that,
and at the end of the day I'll give you the time you need."

Damon closed his eyes. I let him think about it.

"Do I have any choice?" His voice was husky, and his eyes were still closed.

"Of course you do, puppy." I patted his chest. "You know I'll give you
every opportunity to get the time you need. It'll be hard work, but I'll
make sure there's always a path to get there. It'll just be infuriating."

"Why?" He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Why do you want me to put on
the collar?"

"Because you don't trust me yet," I said. "You trust me a lot, but not
completely. Every time you've shown me a new part of yourself, it's worked
out pretty well, right? Each time I get to know you better, and you get to
trust me more. Put on the collar for a day and you'll find out what I want
to do with you. And you'll find out how much you can trust me."

"One big leap of faith, huh?" Damon asked. "No limits?"

"Oh, no, fuck that," I said. "I'll always respect your limits. No blood, no
scat, no permanent damage or markings. I wouldn't violate those under any
circumstances. I'm not a monster, puppy. I want to show you that you can
trust me."

"Oh." Damon thought for a moment. He looked me in the eye, trying hard to
read me. "All right. I'll do it."

"Go and get your collar."

He got down off the bed and scuttled to the closet. Staying on his knees,
he reached up with his pads and got the box marked collars down carefully.
He laid it on the floor, opened it clumsily with his paws, then nosed
through the contents until he found the thick black leather collar.

He took it in his mouth and trotted back over to my side of the bed. He
knelt, paws up.

"Beg me to put my collar on you," I said. I stood up.

He looked embarrassed a moment, then put the collar down across his paws.
"Oh great Master," he said, "Please put your collar around my neck. I want
to belong to you, I want you to own me body and soul. I want to turn myself
over to you to do with as you want. Please accept me as a gift to you for
these hours."

"Well put, puppy," I said. I took the collar from his paws and buckled it
around his neck. "In less than a day you will go back to being yourself.
But until seven pm tomorrow, you belong to me." I shut the little padlock
closed with a sharp click.

He shook his head like a dog, rattling the buckle on the collar. "Yes,
Master."

I took off my puppy's mitts. "Rub my feet." I lay back down on the bed and
propped myself up against the pillows.

Damon crawled up on the bed and took my left foot in his hands. I lay back
and enjoyed the sensation of his fingers working over my soles and my toes
for a bit.

"Why were you afraid to wear my collar?" I asked. "Are you afraid I'm going
to hurt you somehow?"

Damon stayed focused on my foot. "There are questions that I don't want to
answer."

"What are the questions?" I asked.

He looked up at me, alarmed. My foot felt neglected, so I wriggled it in
his lap. He went back to rubbing it.

"What do I want. From my life, or from you," he said. "How I feel about all
of this. What it's doing to me."

"Okay. Now that I know the questions you don't want to answer, I won't ask
them. Tell me the answers when you know what they are, and when you're
ready."

Damon was still looking down at my feet, rubbing them devotedly. "Yes,
Master. Thank you, Master." He kissed my big toe.

"Oh, now you've done it," I said. "Rubbing just doesn't seem like enough
anymore. Start licking my feet, puppy."

"Yes, Master!" Damon lay down on the end of the bed and started licking my
right foot, still rubbing with both his hands as well. My left foot felt a
little jealous, to be honest.

"Here is what I expect from you today," I said. "I want you to serve me. I
want you to attend to me like the world's best butler. Bring me whatever I
ask you for, and try to anticipate things I need. If I need food, you make
it and bring it. If I need a drink, you fetch it. If I feel horny, you suck
on my cock or offer up your ass. Your job is to be unobtrusive when I don't
need you, and to be there with what I need before I even know I need it.
Can you do that, puppy?"

"Yes, Master," Damon took a break from licking between my toes. "I will try
to be a good slave for you."

"I know you'll do great, puppy. You're already making my foot feel amazing.
Better switch to the other one, though, before I start kicking myself."

Damon put my right foot down gently, picked up my left and started rubbing
and licking. All the tension in my lower body dissolved.

"You're really good at that, puppy."

I could see his smile between my toes. "Thank you, Master."

"All right, puppy, let's get you kitted out," I said, and got up off the
bed and went to the closet. Damon followed me on his knees.

"Take off the knee pads, puppy." I got out the loincloth I had showed him
earlier. I'd found Damon's size at a little leather shop online. It was
black leather and brass, with wide strips of leather coming down from the
front. The pouch behind them held his junk, with a leather thong running
between his asscheeks to hold it in place.

"Here, put this on." I handed him the loincloth.

Damon stood and put it on carefully.

I snapped the muzzle back onto his mask. "Stand up straight. Shoulders
back. Feet at shoulder width. Chin up. Hands clasped behind your back."

I walked around him, inspecting. In the loincloth, cuffs, sneakers and mask
he looked like a modern Anubis come to life. I smacked his magnificent ass.
"Whenever I'm not using you for anything, you're to find an unobtrusive
place to stand like this and watch me to see if I need anything. Be as
still and as quiet as possible and try to think only of serving me. If you
get tired standing in that position, think of something you can do for me
and do it. When you're done, go back to standing. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"All right, puppy." I walked back into the bedroom, and lay down on the
bed. Damon paused a moment, but hearing no orders he went to the closest
corner and stood as I'd shown him.

I read for a little while just to enjoy the feeling of Damon's eyes on me,
his expectations, his longing to serve, his impatience with waiting.
Eventually I got bored.

"Come take my clothes off," I said.

He took off my shirt, then my pants, then underwear, and I was laying naked
and hard. My slave puppy stood by the bed.

"I want you to make me feel as good as you possibly can. Treat it like a
work of art, a well-told story. Let tension build, establish your themes,
bring everything together in a climax. You are an artist and I'm a canvas,
and you'll write your signature in my cum. Got it?"

He nodded.

I unsnapped his muzzle. "No talking. Get to it."

And I lay back and enjoyed the tender ministrations of my young puppy slave.

He started by rubbing and licking my feet, and then moved up to my calves.
He ran his fingers along them gently, kneaded the muscles, kissed my knees.
Then he worked his way up to my thighs, and he rubbed those for a while. He
kissed and licked up from there, up my hips and across my belly, up my
chest and into my pits, on to my nipples, then back down in a straight line
towards my cock.

When he got there, he kissed the tip of it passionately. Then he let me
know that he wanted me to turn over, so I did. He started rubbing at my ass
mightily. There's nothing like a buttrub. Those are big muscles, and they
need serious work. Damon was taking my ass seriously.

He made his way up my back, working the muscle groups firmly and patiently.
He did my neck for a while, then made his way back down to my legs. I
particularly enjoyed when he made out with the back of my knees. And then
he got back to my ass, and started kissing it. He kissed my ass cheeks for
a while, which felt nice. Then he kissed at the top of my crack, which felt
nicer. And then he spread my legs, and started kissing down my crack to my
asshole. He kissed it, and that felt nicest of all.

Then he started making out with it and I started humping the sheets.

He spent a long time licking, probing with his tongue, lapping at me. The
ganglia in my brain were firing like the fourth of July. He pulled at my
hip to get me to turn over, and I did so reluctantly. Damon started licking
at my cock, jacking it with one hand, licking the head. I groaned. He kept
licking and sucking, and then reached over and grabbed the magic wand from
the nightstand. He put the head of it up against my cock and hit the switch.

My cock lit up like the Burj Khalifa on New Years Eve. He was working the
shaft with his hands and the vibrator, and he had the head in his mouth and
was licking at it. The assault on my senses was relentless and
overpowering. I grabbed at the sheets, held out for just a few more
seconds, then let go with a tsunami of an orgasm.

Some indeterminate time later, I felt my puppy sign his name in the puddle
of cum on my belly, then start licking it off.

When I became aware of my surroundings again, I had my puppy under my left
arm. I took a few moments to regain my bearings, then said fuck it and
basked in the post-orgasmic glow a while.

"That was a job well done, puppy. I'm proud of you." I patted Damon on the
head, and he wagged his tail. "Now go clean up. Then I'm going to shower.
I'm going to be playing Fallout for a while, so I'll want iced tea and
something light to eat."

He nodded, then headed for the guest bathroom. I went into my shower and
got myself recivilized. By the time I was back in the living room, in sweat
pants and a t-shirt, Damon had fixed a plate of crackers and cheese and
grapes.

The latest Fallout was at the login screen on my monitor. I sat down,
clicked Continue, and had a cracker while it loaded. Then I got down to
serious business, wiping out radscorpions.

I was peripherally aware of Damon standing in a corner nearby for a while,
hands behind him, chest out, chin up. I looked over at him from time to
time. He really did look good in that loincloth. After a while I got
absorbed, and while I was deep in the wastelands he bowed and walked away.
I heard him in the bedroom, cleaning up the gear and the mess from our
latest session. He threw in a load of laundry, then I heard him cleaning in
the kitchen. I paused and had a couple of grapes while I listened. It
sounded like he was cooking. Back in the wastelands, though, there were
mutants to kill.

Sometime later on I became aware of the fact that I'd been smelling
deliciousness. I glanced over at Damon, who was back in position near me,
but where he could see the kitchen. I heard something boiling in there.

I completed another couple of quests while Damon split his time between
standing at attention and attending to dinner. When cooking sounds had
faded out and there was a candle lit on the table, I saved my game and
exited. I put some quiet music on before I went in to dine.

Damon had a nice place set. As soon as I'd made a motion to get up he'd
busied himself putting a plate together for me. When as I sat down and put
the napkin on my lap he had a meal in front of me consisting of meatloaf,
mashed potatoes and green beans. He poured me a glass of red wine.

There were a lot of possible meals Damon could have made with the contents
of my cupboards, so I could only assume this was one of his go-to recipes.
And once I tasted the meatloaf, I understood why. Meatloaves can rarely be
described as delicious, but this one deserved the adjective.

Damon had gotten things in the kitchen settled down and was standing in a
corner of the dining room.

"Come over here," I said, indicating a spot beside me.

He came over and stood beside me, facing the table, at attention.

"Give me your face," I said. He bent down and I pulled the muzzle off his
mask. "You may not speak. Go serve yourself dinner. Your dishes are in the
pantry, on the very top shelf."

Damon went over to the pantry, paused a moment, and then brought down the
dog dishes. Big stainless steel ones. Dog written around the edges. Rubber
rings for traction. Serious dog bowls. He filled one with water, and turned
toward me. I indicated a spot by my feet. He put the water dish there, then
made up a bowl of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans.

He brought it over to my feet, and stood beside me again.

"Go ahead, puppy. Eat."

He knelt beside me, put his face into his bowl, and started eating. He
alternated between that and lapping up water from his bowl. I watched in
amusement as he started off tentatively, but eventually was thrusting his
face into his food joyfully. Puppies love a face full of food. He ate
vigorously, and had just about finished when I had my last bite.

"Okay, puppy, that was good. Now clear the table." I stood up and headed
back to my computer.

It's a strange thing to realize, but it's actually difficult to accept
service as your rightful due. Saying please and thank you are deeply
ingrained in our natures, and there was a huge part of me that wanted to
thank Damon for the meal. But I knew that doing so would make this day less
intense and less effective. Damon needed to serve me, at a level even he
couldn't understand, and having things simply expected of him was part of
that.

But now my belly was full and my email was taken care of, Damon had
finished cleaning up in the kitchen, and I was in the mood for a movie. I
leafed through Amazon Prime until I found something good. I flopped down on
the couch. "Iced tea, and then turn the lights off."

Damon got me a glass of iced tea, then flipped the lights off and headed
back over to his post. I whistled for him, and pointed between my legs. He
came over and cocked his head.

"Sit with your back against the couch between my legs," I said, and Damon
did.

I put my legs over his shoulders, which put my feet in his lap. "Rub my
feet while I watch the movie."

Damon rubbed my feet throughout the first half of the movie. I don't think
my feet have ever felt so relaxed. I was pretty sure I was going to have
trouble walking.

Fortunately, I didn't have to. I put the movie on pause. "All right, puppy,
bring on dessert."

Damon scrambled up and headed for the kitchen. I heard him wash up, then I
heard bowls and spoons as I checked in on all the stuff on my cell phone.

He brought out a bowl of ice cream with a couple of cookies in it.

I gestured for him to get back between my legs and started up the movie
again. Damon resumed rubbing my feet. There may be a more rewarding sexual
orientation out there than dominant gay top, but I have trouble imagining
what it might be.

It was getting towards the climax of the movie when I felt an urge begin to
build in my bladder. For a moment I considered getting up and going to the
john, but then I came to my senses. I paused the movie.

"Kneel and put my cock in your mouth," I said.

Damon turned, knelt between my legs, and put his mouth over my soft cock
and started sucking.

"Just hold it in your mouth, nothing else. Now look up at me." I patted his
head and scritched behind the leather ear of his mask. "Sometime in the
next few minutes I'm going to have to piss. I want you to make sure you get
every drop of it. If there's any on the couch when we're done, you'll be
punished severely. Got that, puppy?"

He nodded, my cock in his mouth.

"Oh, and you're allowed to cum, but only if you can cum when I'm pissing."
I flipped the movie back on.

After a moment, I felt Damon's shoulders start moving as he began jacking
himself off. I smiled and settled back into the couch.

I haven't done an awful lot of piss play, but I do know that it's harder to
piss on demand than it seems. I figured I'd give myself a good window of
time to let loose in my devoted puppy. I hadn't counted on just how
comfortable it would be, settling back completely relaxed, free to pee
whenever I needed. I got back into the movie, and in a few minutes I felt
the piss start flowing out of me into my slave.

He started swallowing and jacking his cock harder. I'd been drinking water
and iced tea all day, so I felt like a garden hose, but Damon gulped it all
down. When I started slowing down he was jacking his cock frantically. I'd
figured there was about a fifty-fifty chance he'd be able to cum, seeing as
he'd just cum a couple of hours ago. It didn't matter. If he came, he'd be
showing himself how subservient he really was, how much he loved drinking
my piss. If he didn't, he'd be incredibly horny for whatever I wanted him
for next, while still associating drinking piss with sexual pleasure.

He moaned in frustration as I finished pissing, but he cleaned off my cock
with his tongue. "Okay, puppy, back to my feet," I said.

He took his place between my legs and rubbed my feet as the movie ended. I
played with his hard cock with my feet every so often, just to make sure he
was primed. When it ended, I stretched, got up and went over to my computer
to check in on things. Damon cleared away the dessert dish and cleaned up
in the kitchen while I worked.

He came back in and stood at attention. I turned to him immediately. "I'm
going to fuck you. Go take the gear off except the mask and the collar,
clean yourself out well, take a quick shower and lube yourself up. Put on
the cuffs and your sneakers, and report back here with a padlock and the
keys."

I went into Steam and started playing FTL. It was one of those scenarios
that's doomed from the start. I lost two crewmembers on the second level,
so it was pretty hopeless, but I kept trying to get my plucky crew through
the game safely. They'd run out of drone parts when Damon reported back.

"Get under my desk and suck my cock," I said. Damon crawled under my desk,
pulled down my sweats, and went to work.

I decided to try and take out the space pirate ship, despite my armor being
almost completely gone.

That turned out to be a bad decision, of course. When I'd finished watching
my ship disintegrate, I pulled Damon out from under the desk and locked his
wrist cuffs to the D-ring on his collar. Then I took him by the back of his
neck and walked him into the dining room. I pushed him face-down on the
dining room table, then I kicked his feet so his legs were wide apart.

I put my cock up against his asshole and pushed into him. This time,
knowing he was prepped and he'd had the tail in all night, I just shoved my
way in as he squirmed on the table. I pulled almost all the way out, then
thrust back in again, keeping things slow for now. I did a couple of
minutes at that reserved pace, letting him get used to it, letting him get
comfortable. And then I let loose.

Now that I'd broken his ass in it was time for a vigorous fuck. I started
plowing into him with abandon, really enjoying the hell out of his tight
young ass. I leaned in close to him and growled, "You're not allowed to cum
this time."

He looked at me slightly panicked, and I shoved into him hard a couple of
times, watching him trying to cope with the assault on his ass.

There's something really liberating about fucking someone without any
regard for their pleasure. I mean, sure, Damon was enjoying this, but it's
great to just be focused on your own cock every so often. I fucked him
hard, without technique or thought or purpose other than my own orgasm. My
cock wanted to invade him, to take possession, to own him, and I concurred.
I pounded away at his recently-virgin ass with  animal vigor, shoving the
table gradually across the room as I did.

Damon, his hands locked to his collar, was making little dog noises each
time I thrust into him, somewhere between a bark and a grunt. It was
adorable. I fucked him faster.

There's not much to describe about it, really. I just pinned him to the
table and kept fucking him until I came. I'm not sure how long it took, but
I worked up a good sweat. Damon started making some distressed noises
towards the end, but I was just about to cum so I kept going. There was no
sign of a safeword.

I came into him hard, my body pressed up against his ass, cock completely
inside him, shooting my cum into him, making him mine.

I stayed there, breathing heavily on top of him. He was panting.

Damon moaned as I straightened up and pulled out. His cock was still hard
and there was no sign of cum anywhere. "Good puppy! You deserve a reward.
Clean up here, then bring a bowl of ice cream to me."

I unlocked his wrist cuffs and cleaned myself up a bit, then went back to
my computer. I surfed Reddit a while as Damon cleaned up.

He came in with a bowl of ice cream, a couple of cookies sticking out of it
jauntily, and stood near my desk.

"Follow me, puppy," I said, and went into the kitchen. I took the spoon out
of the bowl and tossed it in the sink. Then I pointed at the floor. "Put
the bowl right there."

He did.

"Now lie with your head next to it."

Damon lay down, head next to the ice cream, his long body stretched out on
the kitchen tiles.

I brought over a chair from the dining room and sat on it right above
Damon's head.

"You get to eat your dessert off my feet, puppy. And I'll even let you jack
off while you do. In fact, you're going to cum by the time the ice cream is
gone, or it'll be punishment time."

It sounds weird to say that I dipped my toes in the ice cream, but it's a
thousand times weirder to actually do it. First of all, it's cold. And
really slippery, but with a texture that's still delicious. As a sensual
experience, I recommend it. It's even better if you have a warm tongue
waiting to lick it right off your feet.

Damon was slowly jacking his cock while I fed him his dessert. Each bit of
ice cream I picked up left my toes colder. I started spending more and more
time between scoops with my toes in his mouth, warming them back up.

I picked up a cookie in between my toes, dipped it in ice cream and fed it
to him. I let him take a couple of bites and then mashed it into his face,
holding my foot over his mouth while he chewed. Then I made him lick the
crumbs off my toes before I went back for more ice cream.

The bowl was almost empty and my toes were covered in French vanilla and
inserted in his mouth when Damon came, his cum spurting out of him to
mingle with the ice cream on his chest.

I left my feet on his face for a while as he lay there, and then he went
back to cleaning them off.

"Puppy," I said, "When you're finished with those, I want you to go in the
bathroom, take off all your gear except your collar, and take a shower.
Then clean off your mask and anything else that got ice cream on it. Then
come out here and clean up this mess."

My puppy licked at my feet for a while, then got up and ran warm water over
some paper towels, knelt back at my feet and cleaned them off. I patted his
head and went off to do some reading. I've been looking into comparative
pre-axial Bronze age religion, it's fascinating stuff. I heard Damon
working away at his tasks, and smiled.

He came back in and stood at attention.

"Go put on your mask and your loincloth," I told him. He went off, did so,
and returned.

I finished off my chapter and turned off my phone. "Come over here, puppy.
Sit down." I threw a cushion on the floor at my feet and the puppy sat
down, looking up at me.

"You may now speak. Take a moment if you need to get used to the idea. Do
you have anything you want to say to me?" I asked.

Damon looked down, then back up at me. "Thank you for giving me the
opportunity to serve you, Master."

"How are you doing with your servitude, puppy?"

"I like it. I mean, I really like it." He thought a moment. "If I stay
focused on you, on what makes you happy, on finding ways to please you,
none of my own crap matters. I don't worry about anything but how happy you
are. It's... meditative."

"Interesting way of putting it. Is there anything we've done so far that
you didn't like?"

Damon paused. "On some level or another, I didn't like any of it. It's
like, when you're on a roller coaster. Part of you is really terrified,
deep down inside, but the rest of you is having so much fun it doesn't
matter. Or maybe it does matter, because without that one piece of you
resisting, it wouldn't be as fun."

"You've been meditating on that, haven't you?" I asked.

"Yeah." He smiled inside the mask. "I thought about a lot of stuff. Not in
a bad way, either. Just standing there, it gave me a chance to... I don't
know. Get some perspective?"

"You can never have too much perspective. Okay, I'm going to ask you some
of the hard questions now. Are you ready?"

He was sitting cross-legged on the cushion, the leather of his loincloth
falling between his legs, his cuffed hands resting on his knees. "Yes,
Master."

"What is it like wearing that face?"

Damon let his head fall back, his eyes closed. He took in a deep breath. As
he let it out he straightened up, and opened his eyes. "Are you going to
psychoanalyze me now?"

"No. I'm curious. I want to know." I reached out and stroked the side of
his mask. "Most of the people who see you want to know. It's intriguing. We
know life is different for you, that you have a different perspective.
Everyone's hungry for perspective. It's just that it's a terribly rude and
unfair question, so we never ask you. I want to know. And you're wearing my
collar, so I get to ask. What's it like?"

"Huh. Yeah, I hate this question. Okay." He looked down at his lap. "The
problem isn't really people staring. It's people not looking. People get so
hung up about looking at me that they'll look at anything else. They don't
know how much looking is too much, so they don't look at all. And there's
the initial reaction, when I catch that. When a total stranger looks at you
and their eyes go wide, and they look away and they won't look at you
anymore.

"There are times when I feel like a monster out of Lovecraft. Look upon me
for too long and be driven mad, that sort of thing.

"And they treat me like I'm stupid. Like having a skin condition means I'm
an idiot. It makes things easier in a way. I don't have to talk to anyone."

He looked up at me. "But you see me. How do you see me?"

"It's not hard. You're right there." I leaned back, put my feet up on his
legs. "Your face is unexpected, so people start off by having a reaction,
then they get embarrassed about having reacted, and every relationship is
off to a difficult start. Which must get tiresome. I got to have my first
reaction privately, and then figure out how I really felt. And what I felt
was indifferent. It's just a face."

"I hate that first reaction," Damon said. "People get all flustered. And
some of them even get mad at me, like it's my fault they're embarrassed."

"People are weird," I said. "And hostile to what they don't understand. But
I think I'm getting to understand you. Is there anything you don't end up
doing because of your face?"

"Dating, obviously. Going out much. That's about it."

"Why aren't you in college?"

"Because I don't want to pay tens of thousands of dollars for a piece of
paper that..." He touched his collar. "Because of my face."

"That's pretty sucky. Take the mask off."

He reached behind his head without looking up and started undoing the laces.

He pulled the mask off and put it on his knee, smoothing it out a little.
He ran his hands through his hair. He was still looking down at my feet.

"Look at me," I said.

I took the mask from him. "When you wear this, you can look angry, or
friendly, or funny, or goofy. I can tell if you're excited or if you're
upset. All I can see is your eyes and your mouth. That's all anyone needs
to see to know how you're feeling. And when anyone looks at you, all they
can see is that you hate being looked at.

"If you hide from everyone, no-one can get to know you. And you're worth
getting to know. You know?

"I can't know what it's like being you. But there's a lot of people who
won't judge you if you give them a chance."

"Be yourself. Fuck the haters. Got it." Damon was now just looking mildly
annoyed, down from being fully pissed off at the beginning of my soliloquy.

"Do you honestly believe that anyone can love you?" I asked.

Damon fumbled for words a moment. "That's not something you ask."

"I do. I did. Tell me."

"No, of course I don't. And of course I know it's stupid, and I see guys
uglier than me with someone beautiful, and I know that some people don't
care, but when I look in the mirror in the morning all I can think of is
that I could never love someone like that. So anyone I love is going to
have to have to be a better person than I am."

"I hope we all end up with better people than we are," I said. "Stand up
and take your gear off. All except the collar."

He stood up, and slowly stripped off the cuffs and the loincloth and laid
them on the couch.

I stood up and said "Follow me," and led him to the bedroom. I started
taking off my clothes.

"My order for you, puppy, is this. Show me how attractive I am to you. Have
sex with me in a way that lets me know exactly how much you want me. Now,
granted, this could result in you staring at me sullenly from a corner for
an hour, but I'm willing to take that risk. No gear. No talking. Show me."

"Isn't this just another way of asking me how I feel about you? That's off
limits."

"Nope. I'm not asking me to show you anything but how attractive you find
me. Honestly." I touched his collar. "How much do you really want me?"

"Look, I know this is a psychological trick to get me to see myself through
your eyes," Damon said.

"Close. I really want to know this. I know that you understand, very
deeply, how important it is to know that the people you're with really
think that you're attractive, despite whatever. In my case, my husky build
and liberal coating of fur."

"That's a lot of what I find attractive about you."

"And yet, having grown up with them, I'm insecure about them. If there's
anything I want you to take from this exercise, it's that everyone really
needs to know that they're attractive. So it's important to show them."

"You know what? I've got to be honest, right?" Damon said. "I don't want
you to be insecure. I don't want to make mushy-ass love with someone who's
all self-conscious, I want a man to take me and make me do what he wants.
I'm wearing your collar and all you want to do is an after-school special?
How do you think that makes me feel?"

I considered for a moment.

"You're right, puppy. And I want you to remember that this isn't for what
you said, it's for the tone you took when you said it. You should always be
honest with me, but you should always be respectful as well."

"Yes, Master. I apologize, Master."

I sat down on the bed. "Over my knee, puppy."

I positioned him across my lap so his cock was between my thighs. His ass
was pale, smooth, and beautifully formed, with curves like a 1930s Ford. I
rubbed one ass cheek a moment, then pulled my hand back, and took a huge
swat at his ass.

He yelped and tried to flinch away. I followed with two more strokes, both
on the same spot. He jumped each time. In fact, he started flinching when I
pulled my hand on his ass, so I had fun with that the next few strokes,
pulling away and then waiting, letting the suspense build then slamming my
hand into his ass when he least expected it.

I followed up with a cascade of spanks, each harder than the last. I didn't
stop until I heard him crying. His cock was hard between my legs, and he
humped my leg a little bit with each swat.

I slowed down to one spank every few seconds. "Why am I spanking you?"

"Because I was disrespectful towards you, Master," Damon said, his voice
hoarse and wet.

"Will you do better in the future?"

"Yes, Master." He was sobbing hard, making it difficult to talk.

"Will you still be honest with me? Respectfully?"

"Yes, Master."

"Very well. For your honesty, I'm going to give you a reward. I'm going to
spank you until you cum."

"Oh, god, Master." He started humping my legs in earnest, and I gave him a
swat or two for encouragement.

"The sooner you cum, the better your ass will feel," I said. "Get to it,
puppy!"

It was going to be tough for him. He'd just cum maybe forty minutes ago. He
was already crying and his ass was solid red, so he had a lot to distract
him from whatever pleasure he could grind out between my legs.

I got to admire the muscles in his back and ass as Damon tried to bring
himself off and end his suffering. He really was magnificent. Each time I
hit him his ass cheeks clenched together, giving him excellent definition.
Plus the color looked good on him too.

Damon put his back into it, grinding against me, and I was smacking him
every few times his ass came back up, and... then my leg was damp. Wet. I
rained down a hail of spanking on his ass as he came and he cried out,
sobbing and cumming simultaneously. It was a beautiful sight.

I gave him a couple of minutes, then helped him lie face-down on the bed. I
stroked his back.

"Thank you, Master," he said.

"For what, puppy?"

"For reminding me that you really are in charge. And for caring."

I tousled his hair. "You're easy to care about."

"Someday I hope I really can show you how much I lust after you, Master."

I laughed. "Nice flattery."

He turned over to face me. "I was serious."

I looked into his eyes a moment, then I hugged him to me. "That's really
good to hear, puppy."

"Just lay off the face stuff, okay Master?" Damon said into my chest.
"Someday, I'll be comfortable wearing it. I'm working on it. I've got
Edward James Olmos to look up to, right? I'll get there."

"I was just trying to help," I said.

"I know. You do help. It helps when you touch me. When you kiss me. When
you treat me like I've got a brain."

"Well, if you can think of anything else that I can do to help, I'm here.
Until then, I'll lay off. Except for the making out part."

He smiled up at me, and we made out a while.

He broke it off and looked me in the eye. "I'm going to answer one of those
questions now."

"Okay," I said.

"I don't know how I feel about you yet." He put his hand on my face. "But I
like where this is going."

I kissed him.

"I'm sorry this whole scene didn't work out like you wanted," he said.

"It did, actually," I said. "It got you to be honest with me."

"Huh. So it was all a part of your master plan?"

"So to speak," I said. "I knew we had to start talking about it, so I was
honest. Dumb, but honest. As long as you're honest, it tends to work out."

"I'll keep that in mind." Damon snuggled his face into my chest hair. "I
can't believe you're embarrassed about this."

"You try growing back hair at fifteen."

"I see your point."

"Okay, puppy, go clean up in the guest bathroom. There's a new toothbrush
in the cabinet for you, and anything else you might need."

"You got me a toothbrush?" Damon asked.

"Sure. Hopefully you'll be spending a lot of nights here."

Damon yipped happily, licked my face, and went to get ready for bed.

__________________

The End

Let me know what you think. avunculous@gmail.com