Date: Thu, 10 Dec 2020 22:44:27 +0000 (UTC) From: Kai Anderson Subject: SLUTTY WHORE -- BECOMING A CHINESE DOG 02 SLUTTY WHORE -- BECOMING A CHINESE DOG 02 by GWMSUB4DOMGAM This story is a fantasy, yet it is based on things I've done in the past. Remember - Nifty needs your donations to provide these wonderful stories. Please consider donating at: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html I lay there, rolling from left side, to chest, to right side, and back again. Stark naked, cuffed and chained to the post in front of me on the rough, dirty, cold, concrete floor. I could hear the rain falling on the skylight that allowed a little light into what was otherwise a very dark, large, cold, and somewhat imposing basement. I could also hear the pitter patter and splash of some raindrops that were clearly making their way into the basement through that skylight, and occasionally I'd feel a gust of cold wind blow over my goose-fleshed naked skin and swirl around me like the icy caress of a ghost. Above me I could hear the faint sounds of people walking in the store, but otherwise this dark, cold, dirty, damp, ominous space was pretty quiet, which left me alone in my thoughts. As the thick leather collar around my neck dug in painfully at times, especially when I tried to roll from one position to another, and as the harsh cold steel of the cuffs dug into my wrists and ankles, I moved between telling myself that this was precisely what I wanted, what I needed, what I fantasized about, what I deserved; but then thinking, what the hell was wrong with me, why am I giving myself to someone I really don't know? Why am I so quick to put my life, well-being, hell -- my survival in the hands of a complete stranger? Why am I lying uncomfortably, naked, cold, and ignored in this prison below ground -- listening desperately for any sounds of someone coming for me? Every time in the past I had submitted to someone, it was typically the same scenario. I met them briefly somehow, chatted with them a little and we found a kindred interest in Domination and submission, Master and slave, Sadism and masochism, with them in the Controlling side, and myself overly eager and essentially begging them to take, abuse, use, and fuck me to their hearts content. Every time, I'd agree to meet them, or go somewhere with them, without really knowing too much about them, or really thinking of my safety and survival. My sexual urge to submit and be used by someone dominant, aggressive, assertive, and in charge completely overwhelmed any thoughts of whether they were sane, and whether I'd survive -- until I found myself naked, bound, isolated, and in a situation I could not resolve myself. Then, THEN, I'd start fucking considering whether I'd made a mistake. Only then would the doubts and worries and fears begin to surface and take hole -- when it was already too fucking late to do anything about them. I'd had some amazing experiences, but I'd also had a few bad ones. Fortunately no crazy serial-killer type bad ones, but bad enough that I really, REALLY, should know better by now, yet, when that opportunity arises, when that dominant voice commands me, when I'm told I'll be naked, bound, isolated, used, and totally under their control, my cock takes over and my intellect seems to disappear entirely. I came to the conclusion a long time ago, that I am a total sex whore, and I am also an eager and willing dump for most things people want to fill me with, and most of all, I was born to be submissive and controlled by one -- or more -- or many more -- others. I accepted this side of my nature, yet, I would also question it and the safety and logic of it, especially in situations like this, when it was too late to do anything about it. The door above the stairs creaking open and the room flooding with painfully bright lights, brought me out of my sleep. I blinked and squinted through the sudden brightness around me and I tried to turn and sit up. I was confused and dazed. I didn't recognize my surroundings. Fear gripped my stomach and I was about to say "What the fuck," when the chain attached to my collar restricted my attempt to sit up, and the collar dug into my neck. A glance at the chain, the post, the skylight, and it all came back to me. I rolled on my left side and saw Master walking slowly down the stairs from the store. He was talking on his cell phone with someone in Chinese, I presumed. I certainly didn't understand any of the conversation. He walked slowly over to me and moved his cell phone from left to right, and I realized he was using the phone to expose me to whomever he was talking to. Lying on my left side, my hands and legs still hog-tied behind my back, my chest, cock, and balls were all visible, as well as my face and the collar around my neck. I tried to look down at my own body, but the chain pulled the collar pretty tightly and I really couldn't push my head down far enough, so instead I resigned myself to looking at Maters feet in front of me, not wanting to look directly into the cell phone that was presumably beaming my naked and submissive image to -- I didn't know who. A friend. A couple of friends. A live-streaming internet porn site. A dark web auction room. Master walked closer to me, and using his foot on my hip, he rolled me on to my belly and chest. The chains made clanking sounds as I rolled. I just stared forward at the post around which my collar chain was fixed. Master continued to speak in Chinese, and I could hear the metallic voice of someone on the other end of the conversation responding. Master knelt down on one knee beside me and grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back towards my cuffed wrists and ankles. I grunted and strained as he moved my head from side to side roughly. I also felt my cock stir and begin to grow under me. I'm such a fucking whore. Master released my hair and I felt his hand slide down my back to my ass. He slipped with purpose between my ass cheeks and in a single thrust invaded my hole with what felt like three fingers. I had cleaned myself thoroughly and lubed before coming, so fortunately they slid into my hole without too much difficulty, but the suddenness and force of the intrusion made me clench my ass involuntarily, and I let out an appreciative, "AAhhhoooooooooo......." As his fingers explored my hole, I continued to tighten and release my sphincter and flex my ass cheeks, encouraging him to go deeper, harder, faster. I heard him chuckle and the person on the other end of the phone laugh, then the fingers were gone and my hole felt abandoned. Masters hand slipped down between my legs, grabbing my balls and tugging them upwards between my thighs. Pain shot through my lower abdomen as he squeezed and pulled them up towards my wrists which were cuffed just above them. "AAArrrrggggggggowwwwww...." I responded, trying vainly to breath through the pain, but with each twist and tug the pain seemed to increase. Just as suddenly as he grabbed and pulled them, he released them as tears welled up in my eyes. I was completely at his mercy. I could do nothing to resist anything he desired. This was what he had agreed, along with some hard limits. His rough handling of my balls suddenly made me think I really should have been much more clear on those limits, but, my whorish sex drive had made me agree excitedly with very, very few limits. I felt Master release the chain that had bound my ankles to my wrists, and my thighs lowered to rest on the cold concrete. Master then reached to my collar, turned it to access the padlock that kept me bound to the chain around the post, and he released that padlock. "UP, on your knees, Dog," Master commanded. My arms and legs were cold, my muscles tight and sore, and I was extremely stiff from the hog-tied position I had been in for a long time. My wrists were still cuffed behind my back, and my ankles were still cuffed, but I rolled onto my side, bringing my knees up then tried to twist my torso up into a sitting position. It took me three attempts to finally manage to sit up, my muscles complaining the whole time. Once sitting I was able to shift up to kneel upright on my knees, with my toes on the floor behind me. Master suddenly slapped me forcefully on the side of my face, almost knocking me back down to the ground. I felt the heat build up in my cheek immediately, and my eyes welled up with tears. "What do you fucking say, when given an order, DOG?" he screamed at me, just inches from my still turned face. "YES, S........" Another hard slap on my other cheek sent my head reeling in the opposite direction. "Do animals fucking talk, you stupid faggot!" he screamed. Grabbing my hair, Master pulled my face up towards him so his nose was literally touching my own. He looked enraged, and as I blinked to try to clear the tears from my eyes, and as I took a deep breath to try to regain my composure, "Woof," I got out, but rather quietly. He looked pissed, and fear gripped me. What have I done. This guy is going to kill me. He is fucking crazy. I saw him suddenly shift weight, and felt the heavy impact on my balls which literally lifted me off the ground. Pain shot through my balls and abdomen, and I screamed a scream I had never heard come out of me before. As my knees landed hard on the rough concrete floor again he let go of my hair and I fell forward hard onto my left side, curling into a fetal position, and shaking uncontrollably. He spoke softly in Chinese to whomever was still on the phone, giving me a few minutes to recover. Should I tell him I don't want this any more? Should I tell him to let me go? Would he even let me go? I had agreed to this? Master put his cell phone in his pocket and smiled down at me nodding in approval. "Good Dog," he said as he walked around me in a circle, a little like wolves or lions may stalk their prey in the jungle. "You waited in the cold, without complaining," he said, pausing and continuing to walk. "You didn't freak out and ask to leave when things got a little tough," he said, pausing again and continuing to walk around me. "Maybe you will work out, after all," he said, stopping by my face. Despite the fear and doubts I had just seconds before, his compliments and affection totally took me over, and my cock started to get hard, even though my balls were still throbbing from the vicious kick they had received. I leaned out and started to lick his very white and clean Black Addidas sneakers. He let me do this, me shuffling closer to work on both feet. Licking the toe, down each side of both shoes. I shuffled myself back up onto my knees, my back straining to keep me in this bent position to lick, without leaning on Masters feet. I felt -- vindicated -- in my decision to come and submit. This is what I want. This is where I should be. This is right. After some time, Master backed away from me and walked over to the toilet seat that was next to the cage about ten feet in front of me. Master snapped his fingers and pointed to the toilet. "Woof, Woof," I responded and walked slowly and painfully on my knees over to the toilet, next to Master. There was no toilet seat on it, just the porcelain of the bowl and the tank above it. The porcelain was white on the outside, but the as I glanced inside the toilet, it was streaked brown and looked as though it had not been cleaned in years. Master grabbed me by the hair, and pulled my head down and into the bowl, stopping before my nose hit the water in the bottom of the bowl. "Stay," Master commanded. "Woof, Woof," I confirmed, the response amplified by the bowl, making Master chuckle a little. I waited for the piss to hit the back of my head, or for my face to be pushed into the water in the bottom of the bowl as he flushed, or for the command to lick the toilet spotlessly clean which looked like an impossible task without dynamite. As I contemplated my fate, I heard the unmistakable sound of electric hair clippers start up. Master pushed my head to one side of the bowl and I felt the clippers touch my neck, then cut up the side of my head just above my ear. I watched as my hair fell into the water below me. The cutting continued, until Master pushed my head to the other side of the toilet bowl and repeated the haircut, and finally he cut up the back of my head. Master was still grabbing some hair on the top of my head, so he had not shorn me completely, but I felt the cold porcelain against my scalp on the side he had already cut, and I feared what the result would look like. The clippers stopped, and Master used scissors to finish up his handiwork on the longer hair on the top of my head. I stared forlornly at my hair, floating on top of the water and coating the sides of this filthy toilet bowl. Certainly the most unusual haircut I'd ever experienced. Master got up and I then felt a stream of cold water hit my head from behind. I heard the hissing sound of a tap and realized it was water from a hose, running down my head and into the toilet bowl as Master cleaned off any residual hair that was hanging on me. I shivered for the five-hundredth time as the cold water flowed over my head. Pulling my head out from the bowl, and pulling me into an upright kneeling position Master surveyed his work, nodding approvingly. I looked into the toilet bowl at my hair as master pressed the lever and my hair swirled away with the flushing water. I was not someone particularly focused on my hair cut or style to be honest. I kept it fairly short, just because it was faster and easier to dry quickly, throw on some gel, and go. Seeing my hair shorn off and disappear like this though, made me wonder what my new hairstyle was. I could feel the breeze on the sides and back of my head, and I suspected -- maybe even feared -- that I was now bald with just a tuft of hair on top of my head for Master to control me. Master walked over to the area under the skylight, pointed to the ground before him and snapped his fingers. "Woof, Woof," I responded immediately, and still shuffling on my knees predominantly on the rough, hard, concrete floor, I made my way painfully to him. As I was concentrating on shuffling on my knees and trying to avoid falling when one or the other knee would land on a sharp and uncomfortable ridge or point in the concrete, I didn't realize Master had taken his cell phone out once more and was pointing it at me as I shuffled to him. I looked down to the floor at his feet as I finally reached him. The floor here was actually pretty filthy, with dust, dirt, I didn't quite know with what. A gust of cold air hit me and I shivered, glancing up to the skylight, where I noticed a few of the glass tiles that made up the skylight were completely missing, and more than a few were cracked or partially broken. That is where the wind and rain was coming in, and undoubtedly why the basement floor here was so filthy. I wondered for a second, if anyone on the street above, could look down through one of the missing tiles to see me naked, collared, cuffed, on my knees, with my new haircut, looking like the fucking whore I know I am? Master walked to the side of the room, grabbed something from the wall and as he turned to walk back to me, I realized it was a flexible steel rope with a circle at the end to form a securing position, attached to a pully type system high up on the wall. Master wrapped the rope around my right wrist and secured it with a padlock. He repeated the same procedure with a chain attached to a pully system on the opposite side of the room to my left wrist. Master then stepped in front of me, smiled, took a large industrial looking control box from the wall behind him, and pressed one of the buttons. I heard a motor kick in and the steel rope attached to each of my wrists began to retract towards the pully system on either side of the basement -- pulling me up to my feet and stretching my wrists out towards each wall. As I got to full arm extension, only my tiptoes were barely touching the dirty ground below, and the rope dug painfully into my wrists. I looked from one side to the other, seeing my arms outstretched towards the ceiling on either side of me, my wrists complaining and my hands beginning to tingle. Master put down the control box and circled around me again, his hand brushing over my goose-fleshed skin, cold from the general coldness in this basement, but also from the wind that continued to blow in from the broken skylight panels. My wrists were sore, my balls still ached from the kick, my toes were cramping from trying vainly to take some of the weight off my wrists as I hung, crucified in this basement, yet my cock. My cock was the hardest it ever gets -- almost painfully hard and throbbing. Master had his phone out again, and once again I presumed I was being recorded or live-streamed, or something. This just served to get my cock even harder and throbbing even more. To be naked, crucified, at the mercy of this Master in his basement, vulnerable, submissive, and to think hundreds, maybe thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of people all over the world may see me like this. My cock started to leak pre-cum. Master started a conversation on his phone once again in Chinese, and this time I was sure I distinctly heard more than just one voice replying. There were definitely at least three or maybe more voices talking with Master. My cock twitched and I smiled at that thought. Master walked in front of me and set his phone on a shelf that I hadn't really noticed before. The phone was standing upright on the shelf, with the camera lens facing towards me. Master was putting on a show, and I was the entertainment for whomever was on the other end. Running his hands over my naked chest, Master produced a large spring-loaded clip with yellow plastic handles. Pinching my right nipple, Master closed the clip over my nipple and let it go. The burning and pressure was intense and immediate as the weight of the clip itself pulled on my flesh. It felt as though a knife had just cut my nipple off entirely. I tensed my chest muscles, stomach muscles, butt muscles -- every muscle I could tense, tensed in that moment, in sweet agony. Master walked behind me and repeated the process on my left nipple. My eyes were screwed tight shut, as I tried to breathe through the pain and burning sensation from my nipples, but when Master suddenly grabbed my balls and tugged them down swiftly away from my body, I screamed, and my eyes shot open in terror. I tried to look down but as Master was behind me I really couldn't see what he was doing. I felt Master force the skin above my balls between some cold metal, and I heard the familiar click of a padlock locking -- above my balls. Not too bad I momentarily thought to myself, until Master released my balls from his trip, and the padlock slid painfully down my skin, only stopping because my balls prevented it from further movement under the weight of what I discovered later was a heavy chain Master had attached to the padlock. I felt as though my balls were being ripped off me, and I screamed and tried to twist in my bounds to release my wrists, but I was firmly secured, and my twisting only increased the pain in my balls and the movement of the chain. Tears streamed down my face, as I tried to regain my composure and breath through this torture -- but it was not easy. Masters hands on my still fucking hard as a rock cock, despite the agony I was in, startled me and my eyes shot open once again. I felt him push back my foreskin, then looking down I saw the metal sounding rod with the electrical cable attached to it, as it approached my piss slit. Master slid it in effortlessly and with confidence, and surprisingly without any discomfort for me. Once the rod was fully inside me, Master pulled my foreskin over it, and using another large spring-loaded clip to seal my foreskin together, with the rod secured inside my cock. The pressure of the clip on my foreskin was not as bad as on my nipples, but the electrical attachment was rough and sharp, and felt like sandpaper on the sensitive skin on the underside of my foreskin. Master then hung the control unit for the rod on the clip he'd just attached to my foreskin, and turned it on. I saw the light flash, and instantly felt a light tickle of electricity in my cock. I shivered -- again -- though with pleasure and anticipation this time. I heard the whoosh, before I felt the leather flogger strands make solid and unmistakable contact with my ass cheeks. Thwap. I jumped and twisted at the ferocity and pain of the first stroke, and the sudden unexpectedness of it. I expected the next pain to come through the rod impaled inside my cock, not from a flogger on my ass. Thwap, another blow in roughly the same place, the middle of my ass cheeks. I inhaled quickly and scrunched up my face against the searing pain and heat in my ass. Thwap. Another strike, this time hitting below my ass cheeks on the back of my legs. FUCK, that hurts like hell. My toes left the ground on that one and I started swinging forward on each blow, only to swing back into the next one, my wrists providing the swivel point. I was able to tolerate the blows at first. A sharp intake of breath, a "FUCK" under my breath, but as the blows started moving up my back, down my legs, switching in intensity and strength, switching in rhythm, I couldn't anticipate the blows so I couldn't prepare for them. As the blows continued, the rod in my cock began to pulse more frequently, with more and more intensity and I found myself twisting and flinching my hips and trying to close my legs against the electrical pain coursing through my cock, balls, and abdomen from the sounding rod, only to be forced forward with my legs splaying apart as Master hit me full force on the back of my legs or my ass. The padlock around my balls attached to the heavy chain squeezing them lower and lower and adding to the intense pain in my balls and abdomen. I had never experienced so much pain, in so many different places of my body, in so many different ways, all at once. I was screaming with each pulse of electricity coursing through my cock, and with each strike of the flogger. I couldn't feel my hands and my wrists felt as though they were literally being cut off with the steel rope digging in further and further as I twisted and tried to avoid the blows and pain. I was trying to breathe, but screaming too much to take a full breath in, or to fully scream out. My head was turning from side to side as each blow or electrical charge hit me. My nose was running, my eyes were filled with tears, I was losing it. Was I going to die here and now, flailed to death, hanging naked in the middle of Chinatown. My cock cooked by electricity and my back shredded by this maniac? I was literally contemplating that I may never get out of this alive, when I realized the whipping had stopped. Master released the clip on my foreskin and as the blood rushed back in, I screamed and screamed as he completely ignored me. Pushing my foreskin back all the way over the head of my cock, he pulled the rod out in one single motion. It felt like I was shooting the hugest, most fantastic load of my life, but then, instantly, my cock felt -- "empty." It was the strangest feeling I've ever experienced. My cock felt "empty" without the rod in it. As I was thinking about this, Master grabbed both clips on my nipples and pulled both off at exactly the same time. I writhed and screamed again, my eyes screwed closed. I expected Master to torture my already sensitized nipples, but instead I suddenly heard the whir of the motor which had hoisted me up into this torture position, and I was slowly lowered to my knees -- relieving much of the pressure on my balls as much of the heavy chain around them now rested on the ground instead of dangling in the air adding weight to the padlock. I slumped, hunched backed, exhausted, hurting all over. My hands were still bound by the steel rope when Master pulled my head back by my hair and stared into my face. "Did DOG enjoy his playtime?" "Woof, Woof," I replied. Did I? I really wasn't sure in that moment. I knew exactly what Master wanted to hear. He really didn't care if I enjoyed it or not. I was not here to enjoy MYSELF. I'm here to give Master pleasure in any way he deems worthy -- within the very, very limited confines of the agreement we made for my ownership. I told myself I'd be much more careful with such agreements in the future -- but I also knew that probably was not going to happen. "Reward," Master said, and I suddenly found new energy and focus. I truly am a fucking whore. Master pulled his cock out through the fly in his trousers. It was dark in color, about six inches long, not super thick, and uncut with a dark mushroom head. It was already leaking pre-cum, and without any conscious thought, my mouth opened and I licked my lips n anticipation. Master face-fucked me pretty gently, compared to the torture moments before, for quite some time. He was gentle, and caressed my now shorn head as he did. He took his time, stroking in and out of my throat, resting his cock head on my tongue to let me lick off his salty pre-cum, pulling out completely so I could lick his balls. I was totally engrossed and focused on doing a good job, running my tongue around his piss slit when he pulled back far enough, and sticking my tongue out and opening up when his cock reached the back of my throat. I lost all track of time as I enjoyed Masters cock in my mouth and throat. I honestly have no idea how long I was on my knees as Master face-fucked me, but eventually, as must happen, he tensed, stopped thrusting, and spurt after spurt of his cum shot into my mouth. I swallowed it eagerly. "Good boy," Master said excitedly, and I responded equally elated for the praise and for Masters approval. I hoped Master would turn me around and fuck me hard in the ass, but instead he unlocked my wrists, walked over to the small cage by the toilet, opened up the door at the end and snapped his fingers pointing inside the cage. With my wrists now free, I expected to crawl over to Master on my hands and knees, but my hands were numb and tingling. I couldn't use them to crawl, so instead I shuffled over on my knees, dragging that fucking heavy chain still attached to my balls by the padlock. I started to crawl inside the cage, and that is when I started to appreciate just how small it really was -- at least for me. As Master tried to force me inside to close the cage door and lock it, my head and shoulders were forced towards one corner and my hips were forced into the exact opposite corner. My hands and arms extended outside of the cage. Master fed the rest of the heavy chain around my balls into the cage below me, then forced the cage door shut sealing me in the cage. The cage was tiny, and my body was forced against the sides of the bars at seemingly every point possible. I had no room to move, wiggle, or turn. Master took my wrists which were outside of the bars and cuffed them so I could not return my hands inside the cage. This largely fixed me in position at this point. "See you tomorrow, dog," Master said, and with that he walked back, picked up his cell phone, pointed it at me scrunched uncomfortably into the tiny cage, and he left, turning the lights off at the top of the stairs and closing the door. Master was gone. A gust of cold wind from the broken skylight blew around me in a familiar caress. Naked, face-fucked, my nipples aching, my cock rock hard and tingling for release, my balls aching from the weight of the chain on them for hours, my hands slowly returning to warmth and feeling. I was scrunched into this tiny cage for god knows how long now, until they reopened the store in the morning. How the fuck do I get myself into these situations? No, I knew HOW. WHY the fuck do I .......ok....maybe I know the why also. I sighed. I was not going to be able to sleep in this tiny cage, in this cold damp basement, naked, with the wind and rain coming through that skylight. Yet, that is what Master had offered and I had accepted. --End I would love feedback on this story, (or to hear from you if you are a dominant, aggressive, demanding Master who likes to keep his slaves naked and collared lol ) at ALL TIMES. GWMSUB4DOMGAM@yahoo.com.