Date: Mon, 12 May 2008 19:02:29 +0200
From: Batardsm <batardsm@orange.fr>
Subject: skin fuck 8

The stench from the bucket burnt the back of his nose and throat. He wanted
to wretch but knew that would only get him into trouble and make matters
worse.

His Master picked up the rags of his Fred Perry and plunged them into the
bucket. This stirred up the piss and made the smell over-powering. His
Master had said bath time and he knew what was to come. He closed his
eyes. This was how low he had become. To be washed in stinking days, if not
weeks, old piss. How low could he descend?

But this was only the beginning. The beginning of his breaking down. His
dehumanisation. His reduction to nothing before he could be rebuilt by his
Master into the slave that his Master wanted him to be.

The piss was cold and viscous as it ran down his face. Over his eyes, down
his nose and over his lips. He fought with the revulsion he felt at the pit
of his stomach. He fought the need to scream out to fight against his
Master.

The piss just kept on coming. More and more washing over him. His Master
washing away the mud and the cum. Replacing them with a slick of filth. His
skin now glistened under the bare light bulb. Glistening because of the
stinking film that now covered every inch and crevice of his useless flesh.

Next he felt a tugging at the back of his head. Something sharp pulling
again and again from the nape of his neck towards the top of his head. His
Master was now shaving him. His head was normally shaved anyway, but his
Master wanted to shave his property himself. To take away every piece of
hair from his slave's body. Slaves do not even own the hair that grows on
their bodies. It, together with everything else, belongs to his Master. Men
have hair. Slaves do not.

After his head, came his eyebrows. His fucking eyebrows. How silly would he
look without eyebrows. But then who else was going to see him now? Nobody
except his Master and his Master did not want to have a slave with
eyebrows. Then the hairs on his arms fell to the floor. Then his armpits.
Every man has armpit hair. It's the first sign of his development from a
boy into a man. But a slave was not a man. He has no need of armpit hair.

The same was true of his pubic hair. He always kept his crotch trimmed but
now there was nothing. His crotch looked so bare, so innocent in a way. His
dick was now painfully full. Fighting against the constraints of its own
skin.

As the hair from each part of his body fell to the floor to mix with the
piss and the oil, something else fell from him as well. His own will. Each
part of his body in turn gave up the fight. Giving into the humiliation of
being shaved by another to being turned into something less than a man by
another man.

He sighed deeply when the last of the hair was removed from his legs. Only
his balls and the crack of his arse remained. But not for long. The blade
of the razor scratched cruelly across his arse cheeks and bruised
sphincter. The pain reminded him of his Master's last punishment, when his
hole was an open invitation to be fucked indiscriminately by any passing
punk or creep who wanted to get his nuts emptied.

Finally came the hairs on his balls. There was a sharp intake of breath as
his Master squeezed his balls to the bottom of their sack, tightening the
skin to make it easier to shave. He held his breath and hung his head with
the shame of it. With the humiliation of it. The humiliation of having your
balls, the symbol of your manhood, shaved at the behest of another man. And
nothing that you can do to stop him.

After it was done, he just hung there in his chains, just staring at the
piss on the floor, not thinking about anything. Just empty.

The remains of the bucket made him concentrate on what was happening to him
as it was thrown all over him in order to wash away any bits of hair. He
coughed. His mouth must have been open when the last piss from the bottom
of the bucket was thrown at him. He coughed some more and spat. Anything to
get rid of the acrid taste of the disgusting liquid from his mouth. His
mouth was covered in a sticky filthy film that just stuck there no matter
how many times he tried to spit it out. His Master just laughed.

"That's better isn't it cunt?"

"Yes sir," he said hanging his head in shame.

"You're nearly ready for the pit........ But we've got a bit to do yet
cunt."