Date: Sun, 15 Nov 2020 10:55:46 -0500
From: Jeff Hamby <jeffhamby1025@gmail.com>
Subject: Brandon's Boots 8

This story is an original work. It should not be reposted or reproduced
in whole or in part without the author's consent.
Copyright 2020 by Jeff Hamby.  All rights reserved.

Warning: This story contains sexual acts between adult males and/or
females. If you do not enjoy this type of material, or if it is illegal in
your country or place of residence, please stop reading immediately. This
story is not in any way an accurate depiction of reality, and any
relationship to real persons or acts are unintentional. This story is
fiction.

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Brandon's Boots


Chapter 8


I sat there in the closet, surrounded by Brandon's clothes, feeling like
just another thing he owned. I tried to figure out how I'd ended up here,
naked, on the floor in the dark, sore inside and out from having cocks
rammed in me, welted and bruised from being beaten for the amusement of
three young bullies, exhausted both mentally and physically. My stomach was
sour from drinking so much piss last night and this morning. What had
happened to me?

I used to be somebody. I was a respected member of the community: a
husband, father, educator, and leader. Now, I was treated like a piece of
property -- used, then stored away until needed again. It felt like the
last of my dignity had left me, and I had no idea how to reclaim it, or if
that was even possible at this point. I wanted to fight back, to reassert
my manhood and reclaim my self-esteem. The more I was degraded, however,
the more impossible that seemed to be. I was overwhelmed with fear, guilt,
and shame, as much a prisoner of my emotions as I was a prisoner of Brandon
and his friends. I felt myself falling into a downward spiral, my sense of
self disintegrating rapidly, leaving me feeling like I had no choice but to
obey, no options left but this nightmare my life had become. I sat there in
the closet and cried from my shame.

I have no idea how long I was in there. Time seems to lose its meaning in
the dark. I think I eventually fell asleep, because I had a nightmare of
being pissed on by a crowd of faceless men. I awoke abruptly when I was
kicked lightly in the stomach. The light coming into the closet temporarily
blinded me, but I could see the silhouette of someone standing in front of
me, looking down.

"Get the fuck up, cocksucker. You got a big day ahead of you," I heard
Travis say. I struggled to my knees and crawled out of the closet,
shielding my eyes from the light. When I was finally able to see, I saw
Travis standing in front of me, holding the wire hanger in one hand.

"Open up your mouth, fag. I gotta piss, and your mouth makes a good
toilet," he smirked. God, how I loathed him! Brandon was bad, but Travis
was so much worse. Brandon liked using me and didn't seem to care what it
did to me mentally or physically. Travis, on the other hand, really
relished abusing and degrading me. I could tell he got off on it: the
power, the exercise of cruelty, seeing me suffer. This young skater punk
was a true sadist, and my fear level spiked just thinking about what he
would do to me with nothing to stop him and a full day at his disposal.

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth. Travis unzipped his pants, pulled out his
cock, and waved it at me. I had to crawl towards it. He wanted me to come
and get his piss. The idea alone made me want to vomit. When I got close
enough, Travis laid his cock on my bottom lip and began filling my mouth
with his disgusting, bitter piss. I swallowed as fast as I could, knowing
he would enjoy any chance to beat me with the hanger.

When he finished pissing, Travis used his shoe to point to a few drops on
the floor. I bent over and licked them up, then he put his foot on my head,
forcing my face on to the floor. All I could see was the dirty sole of his
ragged, worn out Vans.

"Listen here, cunt," he said savagely, "you belong to me, and I'm not
putting up with any shit from you. Got it, fag?" He put weight on his foot,
grinding my face into the floor.

"Yes, Sir!" I grunted, my mouth distorted by his dirty shoe.

"You give me any trouble, you're going to hurt like you've never hurt
before, you feel me, bitch boy?" Travis threatened, pushing down even
harder on my face.

"Yes, Sir, I'll behave Sir," I grunted. Anything to appease him and get his
foot off my face.

"Show me you understand your place, cumdump," he ordered, moving his foot
around so his sole was directly over my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and
started licking the dirt and grit from the treads of his Vans. My tongue
was quickly coated with whatever filth was on the bottom of his shoe.

As soon as he was convinced I would be compliant and behave the way he
wanted, Travis removed his foot from my face. I could still feel the
imprint of his shoe tread on my cheek.

Travis turned to the bed. I noticed a bag sitting there. He opened the bag
and began laying things on the bed, though I couldn't see exactly what they
were. Suddenly, he turned around and threw something at me. It was a
thong. A very small, bright red thong.

"Put that on, piss boy. Can't have you wandering around naked," Travis said
with a smirk. I stood up and put the thong on. It was tight, at least one
size too small. The pouch in the front was tiny, and barely big enough to
contain my dick and balls. The thin strap going up my ass was tight, and
rubbed right against my asshole, which was already very sensitive from all
the abuse and fucking I'd received. Travis ordered me to turn around and
model it for him, then started laughing.

"Fucking perfect! You look just like the little faggot whore you are. I
love the way it shows off all those welts on your ass, bitch. Now, you just
need two more pieces of clothing and you'll be all set." He picked up
something off the bed and walked over to where I was standing. He looked me
in the eyes for a second, then, quick as a snake, he slapped me hard across
the face."

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, asslicker? Did I say that you
could stand up, fag? Get back on your knees where you belong!" he barked. I
dropped to my knees immediately. Travis walked behind me and slipped
something around my neck, then fastened it in the back. When he was done,
he walked back to the bed. I looked down to try and see what he'd put on
me.

It was a dog collar. Not a leather collar like you see kinky people
wearing. A real dog collar, for a large dog. It even smelled like a dog,
which made me wonder if it had been worn by one recently.

Travis came back over to me and grabbed the front of the dog collar, then
clipped a metal leash to the front of it. I couldn't believe this was
happening to me. This evil young skater had me collared and leashed like an
animal at his feet, and I was unable to do anything about it. As much as I
wanted to scream and make him stop, I was paralyzed by my own shame and my
well-earned fear of Travis's violent tendencies.

"Let's go, loser," Travis ordered, pulling hard on the leash as he turned
and walked out of the room. I crawled behind him as fast as I could, but
there was no way to keep up with him. Very quickly, the leash went taut and
the collar choked me. Travis turned around as soon as the leash was jerked
in his hand. He came back toward me, the wire hanger in his hand, and
whacked me on the ass and back several times. I screamed from the pain.

"On your feet, you stupid fag" Travis said. "Don't ever make me wait on
you, bitch." He turned and started walking away. I quickly stood up and
followed him. He walked through the living room and opened the front
door. Oh, no! No! He wasn't going to take me outside like this! Dear God,
what would my neighbors think? Anyone could see me like this, collared and
leashed like an animal, the leash held by a 22-year-old skater punk. I was
practically naked in this tiny thong, my appearance obscene. I wasn't even
wearing shoes! He couldn't make me go outside like this. I wouldn't go!

But that's exactly what Travis planned on doing. He unlocked the door and
walked out, the leash in his hand. I stopped dead on my feet in the
doorway. As soon as the leash pulled in his hand, Travis turned around and
came at me with the hanger, a menacing look in his eyes. I immediately
dropped to my knees and bowed my head, cowering from his anger.

"Is there a problem, fag?" Travis growled.

"N...No Sir," I stammered, cowering. I wanted to fight. Or beg. Or
both. But I couldn't seem to do either. The idea of him hurting me more
turned my insides to water, and I knew Travis didn't need much of an excuse
to inflict pain on me. The only thing I was more afraid of at that moment
than going outside and being seen like that was the idea of Travis beating
me with that damn hanger. I knew if he got angry, he might not stop.

Travis whirled around and jerked on the leash, pulling me out the door by
my neck. Before I had time to think, I was outside the apartment, the warm
sunshine beating down on my bare skin. Travis stopped to lock the door. I
suddenly realized: he had a key. I hoped, prayed, that Brandon loaned
Travis his key, and that he hadn't made a copy and given it to Travis to
use when he wanted. That would make this entire nightmare even worse.

Travis turned and started walking towards the parking lot. I followed
behind him, hoping he'd parked close by, silently praying that no one would
see us. Travis started walking across the half-empty parking lot toward an
older Honda parked on the far side. The bastard had deliberately parked a
long way from my apartment, just so he could parade me around on this
leash! The hot pavement under my bare feet was painful. I felt hot all
over, though whether it was from humiliation or the sun I couldn't tell. As
we were crossing the parking lot, I saw a car driving towards us. I
recognized it as one of my neighbors who lived next door. As she got
closer, I could see her looking at me standing there on a leash in nothing
but a thong. Her face went from confusion, to shock, to anger, all in a
matter of seconds as she drove by and parked. By the time we arrived at
Travis's car, she'd parked in front of our building. I saw her standing
there next to her car staring at me with a look of disgust on her face. I
wanted to melt into the pavement and disappear forever.

Travis popped the trunk with his remote, then looked at me. "Get in,
bitch," he said, indicating the trunk. "Fags don't ride in my car." I
looked down, disbelieving. The trunk was scattered with trash, including
beer cans, fast food wrappers, and a skateboard. I moved some of the trash
out of the way and climbed into the trunk. It wasn't easy. As soon as I was
in, Travis unhooked the leash from my dog collar, then slammed the trunk
lid.

As I lay there in the dark, musty trunk, I realized I knew next to nothing
about Travis, except that he was a cruel, sadistic little shit. I tried to
remember some details about him from when he was a student at my school,
but I couldn't. Even with a troublemaker like Travis, there were too many
kids over the years to keep them all straight in my head. Which is to say I
was now locked, nearly naked, in the trunk of a car, being driving
God-knows-where by a young sadistic bully I barely knew, to a fate I
couldn't even imagine. Whatever he had planned, I knew it would be horrible
for me.

Travis drove for a while. The motion of the car and the stench of the
trunk, combined with my own dread of what awaited me, began to make me feel
ill. I was afraid I'd throw up, but soon he parked. Travis opened the trunk
and attached the leash to my collar as I climbed out. I took the
opportunity to look around. We were in a trailer park, and a
rundown-looking one at that, parked in front of an older double-wide mobile
home. I could see people walking around nearby, and a few sitting in front
of their trailers. Many of them stared at me, obviously noting my bare ass
and the fact that I was collared and leashed like some sort of
animal. Travis, however, took no notice. He tugged hard on the leash as he
led me into the trailer.

This was obviously where Travis lived. After he led me inside, he snapped
his fingers and pointed to the ground. I knelt at his feet, preparing
myself for whatever tortures he had in mind. The place looked like it
hadn't been cleaned in a while. I guess that Travis lived there alone. His
clothing was scattered around the messy living room, and the place smelled
of weed, sweat, and dog. I didn't see a dog anywhere, though. Travis tugged
on my leash and led me toward the kitchen area. That's when I saw a large
dog kennel in one corner of the room with a water bowl inside it. Travis
led me to the cage and opened it, making it clear he wanted me to crawl
inside. Reluctantly, I crawled into the cage. The bottom of the cage had a
ragged, dirty blanket on it, which smelled strongly of dog. Travis had put
me in a real dog's cage. I figured the collar I was wearing belonged to his
dog, as well.

Travis placed padlocks on the cage so I couldn't get out. Once I was
secured in the cage, he sat down in the living room and started texting,
ignoring me. I was thankful he was leaving me alone for the moment, but
horribly humiliated to be treated like an animal. Up to this point, my
treatment had been bad and very degrading, but not inhuman. Now, though,
Travis seemed to be working to take away even my humanity, trying to turn
me into some sort of subhuman beast.

As I was contemplating the cage I was in and what it meant for me, I heard
a knock on the door. The guy who came in was obviously one of Travis's
buddies from the way they greeted each other. I was mortified yet another
total stranger was seeing me in my degraded condition: collared and locked
in a smelly dog cage like an animal, wearing nothing but a tiny thong, the
marks on my ass and back from my beatings clearly visible. If I knew then
how I'd look by the time I left Travis's trailer, I probably would have
pissed myself right then.

After chatting for a few minutes, the stranger came over to check me
out. The cage was large enough for a dog to move around in, even a large
one like a Great Dane, but people are a good bit bigger. I'd crawled into
the cage headfirst, and it was too tight for me to turn around. I was stuck
on all fours, with my ass on plain view for Travis and his buddy. I could
feel this new guy standing right behind me but couldn't turn around to see
what he looked like. He was looking at my ass and the marks from where the
Travis, Brandon, and Jesse had beaten me with their belts and the hanger.

"Fuck, dude! You guys did a real number on this fag's ass, huh?" he said,
laughing. He reached through the bars on the cage and poked the welts on my
ass, causing me to jump and wince. He laughed harder.

"Yeah," Travis said, "faggot needed a lot of correction and training before
he'd act right. We've just about got him trained, though. Still needs some
work. He's gotten real friendly with Mr. Wire Hanger here," he
chuckled. "Isn't that right, bitch?" he said, poking my ass with the hanger
through the bars.

"Yes, Sir!" I replied quickly, my voice trembling with fear. I didn't like
where this situation was going.

"So, is he tight?" the stranger asked Travis.

"Yeah, not too bad. Sucks okay. Needs more practice, but that ain't gonna
be a problem," Travis replied, laughing again. "So far Brandon, me, and
Jesse are the only ones been up his hole."

"Cool," the stranger replied. I felt them walk away, back into the living
room. It was horrible, having this young skater punk calmly discussing my
ass and my performance sucking cock with a total stranger as if I wasn't
even in the room. Now I really knew what a dog feels like, when its owner
discusses its behavior with others. I wanted to just melt into the bottom
of the cage and disappear forever, but I couldn't. Just like a dog, I had
no choice but to put up with this.

I couldn't see them, but I could hear Travis and the stranger talking in
the living room a few feet away.

"So, what did you bring me, dude?" Travis asked.

"Just a couple of things you're gonna find handy. Remember that faggot I
told you about, the one that I had before I got locked up that last time?
Got some stuff here I made him buy me. It was real useful, and funny as
hell, man."

I heard one of them rummaging around in a bag, then heard Travis exclaim,
"Holy fuck! Dude, is that even for real? Where the fuck did you get that?"

"Ordered it online," the stranger replied. "Yeah, it's real. Scary as fuck,
ain't it? You should have seen my fags face when I made him unwrap
it. Dude, it was fucking hilarious! I thought he was gonna faint right
there! Just be careful if you use it though. Gonna be pretty noisy. You
don't want the cops getting called or nothing."

Travis laughed, "Yeah, man, I gotcha. What's that other thing?"

"Dude! That thing is pure fucking evil. Stick your finger in there! Feel
all that shit? Now imagine having that on you!" the stranger replied. Right
at that point, a truck pulled up outside the trailer, drowning out the rest
of their conversation.

I didn't have long to wait to find out what they were talking about,
though. A few minutes later, I smelled marijuana smoke coming from the
living room. Travis and his friend were smoking weed while casually
chatting like friends do, completely oblivious to the fact there was a
grown man locked in a cage a few feet away.

As soon as they finished smoking, I heard Travis unlocking the cage behind
me. He ordered me out, and I slowly crawled out backwards, only to have him
reattach my leash to my collar. Great. I'd already started thinking of it
as "my" leash, like it belonged on me, along with the dog collar I was
wearing. Travis jerked on my leash, and led me, crawling on all fours, over
to the living room. He stopped in front of the couch. I didn't dare look up
at the stranger sitting there. I was too scared of what Travis would do to
me, let alone what this guy might do. I kept my eyes on the floor. All I
could see of the guy was a pair of tan leather work boots and his
jeans. The boots looked like they'd seen better days. They were scuffed and
covered in dirt, dust, and grime.

"This is my buddy, Josh. Show him what a good dog you are, cunt. Clean
those nasty ass boots," Travis ordered.

I leaned down and began licking Josh's boots. I couldn't believe I'd sunk
so low. I was on a leash like an animal, following the orders of a former
student, being made to lick God-knows-what kind of nastiness off the boots
of a total stranger. I suddenly became aware of the only thing that could
have made the situation worse: my dick was getting hard as I licked. The
more my tongue ran over the rough, dirty leather of Josh's work boots, the
harder my dick became. I could feel it tenting the small pouch of the
thong, pulling the strap in the back even tighter into my ass crack. Why
was this happening to me? This sort of thing disgusted me; it didn't turn
me on! I was humiliated beyond belief, hating every second of this
treatment, but my dick felt differently, and I didn't know why. I felt
betrayed by my own body, my stiff dick making me look like I was doing this
willingly, as if it was giving me pleasure instead of causing me physical
and mental anguish.

I'm not sure what Josh did for a living, but his boots were nasty. The
grime and dust coated my mouth and almost choked me. It got worse when he
lifted his right foot and pressed the thick sole against my face, grinding
the rough tread into my face and nose. There was a lot dirt in the treads
of his soles which quickly turned to mud from my licking. Suddenly, I heard
the wire hanger cutting the air behind me, and felt my ass explode with
pain as it made contact with my already-welted cheeks.

"Get all that fucking dirt out of there, slut. His boots better be fucking
spotless, you understand me, bitch?" Travis demanded. I redoubled my
efforts, licking the soles harder, trying to get every bit of dirt and mud
out of the treads. I was continually tasting and swallowing all that mud
and grime. It was enough to make me puke, but I continued to lick, knowing
the punishment for failure would be terrible and incredibly painful.

Once Travis and Josh were satisfied I'd cleaned out his soles sufficiently,
Josh took his booted foot and rested it on top of my head, forcing my face
on to the floor. He added his other foot, too, using my head like it was an
ottoman. I heard Travis pull his chair over to the couch, then felt him
roughly propping his feet up on my back. I couldn't see anything. My face
was being ground into the floor from the weight of Josh's boots on my
head. Travis apparently fired up his pipe again, because I could smell more
marijuana smoke. I was stuck there, nothing more than a footrest for these
two cruel men.

I was used as a footrest for a while. My back was beginning to cramp when I
finally felt Travis remove his Vans from my back and stand up. He grabbed
my leash and pulled me up from under Josh's feet.

"On your feet, asslicker," Travis said. "Time to get you dressed right," he
sneered. He jerked on my leash until I stood up, then ordered me to put my
hands behind my back. As I did, I got my first real look at Josh.

He looked like he was about 5'9", with brown hair cut into a very short
buzz the same length all over. He was clean shaven, with piercing blue eyes
and lots of tattoos. Like Travis, most of his tattoos looked like they were
done by amateurs, possibly in prison. Josh's whole look sort of screamed
ex-con. He was only in his mid-twenties but looked like he'd done some hard
living. He looked tough and mean, a lot like Travis, only he wasn't a
skater punk. He looked like he worked construction, with a compact,
muscular build that obviously came as much from hard work as it did from
lifting weights. I could see he had the rough hands of a manual laborer.

Josh stood up and walked around me, looking me over like I was a piece of
meat or an animal he was inspecting.

"Get that stupid thong off, bitch," he said coldly. I quickly pulled down
the thong and stepped out of it, standing there fully exposed in front of
this stranger, my dick hard and throbbing, much to my continued shame. Josh
reached down into a bag sitting on a side table and pulled out a thick
leather collar with metal rings hanging from the sides. He pulled the dog
collar off my neck, then attached the leather one. He produced a heavy
padlock from the bag and clicked it in place on the collar. The collar was
very wide, preventing me from lowering my head past a certain point. Next,
Josh reached into the bag and pulled out some matching leather wrist
cuffs. He similarly attached them to my wrists and padlocked them on me
with small luggage padlocks. I was now stuck in this gear, looking like
some sort of leather freak. I had no doubt Travis planned to parade me home
looking like this as well. The dog collar had been bad. This was far
worse. Josh, however, wasn't finished "dressing" me.

The next thing he took out of the bag I didn't recognize, but I saw an evil
grin come across Travis's face. It was a small plastic device with a
padlock, which Josh unlocked and took apart. He looked down at my erection,
still throbbing despite my debasement, and smacked it with his hand.

"That's gonna have to go. Can't get it on the bitch with that," he said
very matter-of-factly, like he was making a repair and needed to change out
a part. Travis grinned even bigger.

"No sweat, bro, I got this," he said. Travis suddenly brought the wire
hanger he was holding around and smacked it into the head of my dick. I
heard the hanger cutting the air a split second before it tore into my most
sensitive flesh, eliciting a scream from me and driving me to my knees with
pain. I covered my dick and balls with my hands in hopes of protecting them
as I knelt there on the floor, the pain bringing tears to my eyes. I felt
Josh grab my right wrist and twist it up to my neck, then heard a click. I
tried to lower my arm, but I couldn't. He'd attached it to my collar. I saw
him as he grabbed my other wrist. He attached a short clip to the ring on
the top of my wrist restraint, then clipped it to the other side of my
collar. My hands were simply immobilized, and it was impossible for me to
unclip them. That easily, Josh had made me completely helpless and at the
mercy of these two cruel bullies. Josh grabbed the ring on the front of my
collar and easily pulled me to my feet. Even in pain, I was no match for
his strength, and had no way to fight back, even if I'd dared to do so.

Once I was back on my feet, with the head of my dick burning like it was on
fire from the pain, Josh calmly grabbed my balls and slipped them through a
tight, unyielding plastic ring, then shoved my now-flaccid dick through it
as well. I could feel what must be a large welt forming on the top of my
dick head, the result of Travis's hanger. Holding me by my ringed genitals,
Josh picked up another piece of plastic and spit inside it several times,
using his thumb to rub the spit on the inside of it. I could see the
plastic piece was shaped vaguely like a very short penis. Inside it were
small protrusions. They weren't very long, but they lined the entire inside
of the device. Josh pulled my dick forward roughly, then worked the device
on to it. His spit lubed it up just enough to go on, but not enough to keep
the small spikes on the inside of it from biting into my flesh as he forced
me into it. Once my dick was completely imprisoned, Josh added a small peg
to the top, then slipped a very small Master Lock though a hole in the peg,
locking me securely into the device.

"There ya go, dude," he said to Travis, "that's all taken care of. That
shit ain't coming off unless you take it off. Trust me, you'll like the
results. Nothing like a chastity cage. Makes fags behave a whole lot
better."

"Cool," Travis grinned. "I can't think of any reason we'd need to take it
off, can you?"

"Nah, no need really. Plenty of water can get in so it stays pretty
clean. That faggot I had before I went inside? I kept him locked in this
thing for almost a year and never took it off. Worked like fucking charm,
man," Josh replied.

"Sick, dude! Thanks! What happened to your fag? Did you ever find him when
you got out of prison?"

"I tried," Josh replied. "Little bitch moved during the year and a half I
was locked down. Oh well, not like they are hard to come by anyway. Plus, I
got a girl now. She's a bitch sometimes, but the pussy's good at
least. Can't suck as good as a faggot, but she's tight." He
laughed. "Besides, now that you got this cunt, maybe you'll let me use
him."

"Fuck yeah, man!" Travis replied, giving Josh a high five. "Anything for my
buds. You wanna try out his holes?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Josh grinned, rubbing his crotch.

I couldn't believe this was happening to me. Here I was standing naked and
helpless while these two discussed me as if I were an object. I wanted to
die. Even worse, the humiliation was making my dick throb. The welt on the
head of my dick was still burning, and the cage Josh had locked on me was
tight and small. As my dick began to expand, it encountered the small
spikes lining the cage. Each one began digging into the tender flesh of my
sore penis. I'd seen them: they were tiny and blunt. But now that my dick
was filling with blood and pressing against them, each one felt like a
knife cutting into my dick from all sides. The entire cage was filled with
these horrible little spikes; the spikes were biting into every inch of my
dick, from the base of the shaft, up the sides, and all over the head. It
was torture. My dick started to soften from the pain while the humiliation
was making it hard. I didn't know what was going on, but it was frightening
and constantly painful. I couldn't imagine being trapped in this device for
a day, let alone an entire year! I said a silent prayer it would come off
whenever Josh left.

Josh grabbed the ring on the front of my collar with his finger and used it
to lead me back over to the dog cage. Instead of locking me in it, though,
he forced me over the top of it face down. Then the unhooked my hands from
my collar and clipped my wrists to the side of the cage. That quickly, I
was secured to the top of the cage and helpless, my ass exposed on one
side, my head on the other side of the cage. As Josh walked behind me, I
heard him unzip his pants.

Meanwhile, Travis walked around the cage to my head, unzipped his pants,
and pulled out his long cock. He grabbed me by the hair and unceremoniously
shoved his limp cock in my mouth and held it there where I licked and
sucked on it. Behind me, I could feel Josh spit on my asshole, then he
shoved his cock all the way inside me. He immediately began pounding my
hole. His cock wasn't nearly as big as Travis's, but it was very hard, and
apparently had a curve to it that made it especially painful, jabbing at my
hole and my prostate. Josh was compact and muscular. I could feel the
strength in him as he grabbed my hips and pounded my hole, taking no notice
of my grunts of pain, which were muffled by Travis's big cock down my
throat. The big knob of Travis's cock nearly sealed my throat, my cries
from Josh's anal abuse merely adding to Travis's pleasure as he plowed in
and out of my mouth.

It didn't take long before Travis dumped his load down my throat. The
bitter taste of his cum filled my mouth and made me want to retch. Josh,
however, continued pounding me. Each time he drove his cock into my hole,
it made my dick throb inside the cage, driving the cruel spikes deeper into
my dick. I was sure my dick had been punctured in a hundred different
places based on the way it felt. Josh's pounding was causing the dog cage
to rattle with each thrust, adding to the noise in the trailer. I felt Josh
pause, then pull his cock completely out of my ass and ram it back into my
hole as hard as he could. In the process, he also pounded my balls and the
chastity cage against the dog cage, crushing my tender nuts and ramming the
spikes even deeper into my dick. I screamed in pain, only to be slapped
hard by Travis. Josh let out a groan and shot his load deep up my ass.

I didn't get a moment to catch my breath, though. Travis moved out of the
way, and Josh shoved his softening cock into my mouth for cleaning. I
didn't even try to protest or pull away; I just licked all the nastiness
off his cock as it rested in my mouth.

"Dude, this dog cage is pretty handy. I may have to get me one of those
next time I get a fag," Josh remarked, as I was tonguing the remains of my
ass from his cock.

Travis replied, "Yeah, I was gonna get rid of it after Rocky died, but I
thought I might get another dog. Never did find one I liked as much,
though. Glad I kept the cage and stuff. Perfect for a faggot."

Josh pulled out of my mouth, and he and Travis both zipped up and walked
back into the living room, chatting, as if they'd just finished a game or
something. I was left there, trapped, cum deep inside both ends of me,
waiting until they wanted me again.

The two men sat in the living room, relaxing for a while. Eventually,
Travis came over to the cage and released me. He ordered me to stand up and
clean up the place. Clean every room, he told me. I silently nodded,
realizing what a task that would be, considering what a wreck the place
was. Travis was obviously a slob. Like a lot of stoners, his motivation to
clean was apparently non-existent.

I spent hours cleaning the place while Travis and Josh watched TV in the
living room. I scrubbed the kitchen, swept the floors, picked clothes up
from Travis's bedroom floor and put them away. Travis didn't own a mop, so
I was forced to use a rag to clean the floor while on my hands and knees.

The bathroom was the worst. I couldn't imagine how long since it was
cleaned, but it was very filthy. It took significant scrubbing to get it
clean. I couldn't believe my life had somehow come to this, kneeling here
on the floor, cleaning a vicious young skater's piss and shit off his
toilet.

While I was cleaning the bathroom, I took a moment to inspect the horrible
device locked on my genitals. Josh had called it a chastity cage, and I
could see why. Even with my dick completely soft, it was firmly and
securely locked in place. I couldn't even touch my dick through the hard
plastic. It was obvious I'd have to sit down if I needed to pee, further
emasculating me. My dick wasn't full of holes or bloody from the spikes the
way I'd feared it would be. The spikes hadn't broken the skin, though they
had certainly irritated it, leaving tiny red circles all over my dick from
where they'd pressed into it. I'd hoped it would be less painful once my
dick wasn't pressed against the spikes, but that wasn't quite the case. My
dick still made contact with the spikes, mostly as I moved. Instead of
digging into my flesh like when my dick tried to get hard, when soft they
merely scratched the skin lightly. It was pleasurable, like having my penis
lightly tickled. Unfortunately, it also made my dick start to swell from
the sensation. It would get as hard as it could locked in that terrible
cage. The result was more pain as my swelling dick pressed into the
spikes. Of course, the pain eventually made me go soft, which just started
the entire process over again in a terrible cycle, repeating for hours. I
quickly realized that this alone would be enough to send me over the edge
if I had to wear it for very long, and I took pity on whatever poor fag
Josh had kept in this hellish device for a year! I prayed repeatedly he
would remove it soon. There was no way I could live in this thing for
long. It was constant, unending torment.

When the trailer was clean, I went and knelt at Travis's feet to let him
know I was done. He got up and started walking around, inspecting the
place, checking on my work. It was humiliating as hell, this stoner punk
making sure I'd completed menial tasks to his satisfaction. When he got to
the bathroom, Travis snapped his fingers and pointed to the base of the
toilet.

"What the fuck is that, you stupid faggot? I thought I told you I wanted
this place clean, shithead?" he demanded.

I looked where he was pointing. There was a pubic hair on the side of the
bowl, perhaps one of Travis's, maybe someone else's. Travis grabbed the
ring on the front of my collar and dragged my head to the bowl. He ordered
me to lick it clean. I licked the pubic hair off the bowl, then continued
to lick the outside of the toilet until he released my head.

"You're gonna clean this fucking bathroom again, faggot, and this time
you're gonna do it right. Understand bitch?"

"Yes, Sir," I replied, keeping my eyes on the floor, hoping he wouldn't hit
me.

"Yeah, I know you're gonna do it right this time, and I'm gonna make sure
of it. Yo, Josh, come here!" he hollered.

Josh came up and stopped at the door to the bathroom. "Sup?"

"Fag here needs a little cleaning lesson. And something to remember it
by. Got your phone?"

Josh grinned, "Yeah, go for it."

Travis unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and began pissing all over
the bathroom floor. He pissed on the toilet, in the tub, everywhere except
in the toilet itself. Josh was laughing the entire time, standing behind
me. I noticed from the corner of my eye that Josh was recording the whole
thing on his phone.

When Travis was finished, he zipped up and turned to me, "Now, faggot,
clean this fucking bathroom again, only this time you're gonna do it with
your tongue. It better be fucking spotless, too, or I'm gonna wear you out
with Mr. Wire Hanger. Got it, cunt?"

I just nodded, not believing what he had done.

"No, fuckhole, that ain't good enough. Tell me you understand. And you
better thank me for teaching you a lesson, fag." Travis said menacingly.

"Yes, Sir! I understand, Sir! Thank you for teaching me, Sir!" I swiftly
replied.

"And what else, bitch?"

I thought for a second. "Thank you for your piss, Sir."

"That's more like it, shithead." Travis said, satisfied. "Dude, you need to
piss?" he asked Josh.

"Yeah, don't mind if I do," Josh chuckled. He followed Travis's lead and
pissed all over the floor and toilet, recording the entire time. When he
was zipping up, I thanked him for his piss as well.

Travis walked away, but Josh stayed for a few minutes, recording me as I
bent over and began slurping and licking two full bladders worth of
stinking yellow piss from off the floor, then began the process of licking
the toilet and tub clean.

It seemed to take forever. The taste of their piss was rank and strong, and
licking it off the floor was the most humiliating thing I'd done yet. I was
deathly afraid to report back to Travis; if the toilet wasn't spotless,
there was no telling what he would do next. My attention to detail, as a
result, was very high. I cleaned parts of the toilet you could barely even
see, trying not to visualize what kind of grime was caked there which was
now in my mouth.

Once Travis was satisfied the bathroom was clean to his satisfaction, he
locked me back inside the dog cage. A moment later, he came walking back
over, Josh right behind him, recording on his phone. Travis had something
behind his back, which immediately made me scared as hell. What new torture
did he have planned for me?

"Guess what, fuckboy? Josh brought you a special gift! I really like it,
and I think you're going to love it. Don't you want to see what it is,
pissbreath?"

"Yes, Sir, please show me what it is, Sir," I replied with no enthusiasm,
my voice trembling with fear.

From behind his back, Travis pulled out...well, it couldn't be real. It was
some sort of a butt plug, I knew that, only far too big. It was made of two
cone shapes, a smaller one on top, a larger one on bottom, with a thick
shaft in between the two joining them together. The top cone was big, but
not by comparison to the larger one on bottom. This plug was monstrous!
There was no way that would fit inside me. The bottom cone, at its widest,
was at least as thick as a baseball bat. Even worse, there was a large ball
on top of the plug, crowning the small cone, which would obviously lodge
deep inside the wearer. I couldn't imagine having such a thing inside me. I
began to tremble in fear, praying they wouldn't try and put it inside
me. It would rip me apart!

"Heh, look at the faggot's face, dude! Yeah, this is gonna be fun!" Travis
said. He opened the cage and ordered me to crawl out. I was afraid he was
going to violate me with the plug, just ram it in my hole the way he liked
to with his cock, but Travis had other ideas. Instead, he ordered me to
crawl backwards into the cage, so that my face was pointed towards the
living room. Then, he placed the plug upright on the floor of the cage and
locked the cage door again.

"Take some time and get to know your new best friend, cunt. Lick it. Suck
on it. I want you to know exactly how big that fucking thing is. Show us
how much of it you can get in this hole before it goes in the other one,
you pussy bitch," Travis ordered.

They both walked back into the living room. I could see them watching me,
Josh recording it on his phone. I started licking and sucking on the butt
plug. It was huge. If I really stretched, I could just get the first cone
past my teeth. There was no way I could get the second cone in my mouth. It
was too wide. As I was licking and sucking on the plug, I tried hard not to
imagine either of two things: where it had been before, and what it would
be like to have it inside me. I didn't know which would be worse - the
anticipation of having it forced inside me, or the reality of being
stretched by this horrible plug. Unfortunately, I was certain I'd soon find
out.

After an hour of licking and sucking the plug, Travis pulled me out of the
cage and locked me back across the top of it face down. I was afraid he was
about to use the plug on me, but apparently, Travis had other plans for the
evening. He went and found a nasty old bandana and wrapped it around my
eyes as a blindfold, then left me like that. Shortly after, I heard a knock
at the door. Travis let someone in. Several people actually, all male, from
the sound of the voices. I could only imagine what they thought, seeing me
spread out naked like this over the dog cage; collared, blindfolded,
reeking of cum and piss, my ass welted, my penis locked in a plastic cage.

As I heard the men talking, more people arrived. Travis was apparently
having a party, and I quickly realized I was the entertainment. From the
conversations I overheard, it sounded like he invited some of his skater
friends, as well as guys he'd met in jail, like Josh. One or two seemed to
be neighbors from the trailer park. I have no idea how many there were. I
lost count shortly after the first guy helped himself to my mouth. That was
all it took. Immediately after, someone started fucking me. It felt like
Josh, but I had no way to be sure.

More and more guys used my holes. As soon as one would finish, other would
take his place. Most came over to my mouth after they'd fucked me and made
me clean their cocks off. Some of the cocks were small, others big and
fat. There was one I was sure was Jesse's, given how thick it was. It
smelled like Jesse, at least. I had no way of knowing who these men were
that were using me. Were some former students? Did any of them know me
socially, or professionally? Even worse: I didn't know who was using me,
but they certainly would recognize me if they saw me again. I was
completely exposed to their view.

I went into some sort of a fugue state I think, completely zoned out,
merely a vessel for cock, as man after man raped both ends of me. I
remember vague snatches of conversation from throughout the night.

"Fuck, man, I can't believe he's a faggot. Wish I'd known this in school!"

"Dude, that thing on his dick is wicked! I can't believe anybody would let
you do that to him!"

"Yo, let's flip him over! Trav says he'll drink right from the hose. I
gotta see that!"

Someone unhooked my hands and flipped me over on the top of the cage, so I
was on my back, then fastened my wrists to the sides of the cage. I felt a
cock being laid on my lips, then warm piss start pouring into my mouth. I
had no choice but to swallow as fast as possible.

"Dude! Look at this! This sick queer is drinking my piss, man!"

"Me next, man. That beer is going through me. Ahhh, yeah, I think this fag
loves my piss! Look at his dick. What a sicko!"

This new position allowed them better access to my balls, too. Many of them
were fascinated by the chastity cage. They took great delight in smacking
my balls or shaking the cage to make the spikes drive into my dick more. I
also started feeling something weird against my skin from time to time, all
over various parts of my body, from my face to my feet, but I didn't know
what it was.

I don't know how long it lasted. It seemed like forever. Worst of all, my
dick was as hard as it could get in the cage, despite the spikes making it
feel like it was being cut to pieces.

Travis fucked me twice that night. I know, because he was the cruelest one
of the bunch, repeatedly smacking my balls while he rammed his big cock
inside me. He also used his fingers to brutally pinch my nipples, pulling
on them and practically lifting the upper part of my body off the cage by
my tits. I thought he would either crush my balls to mush, or rip of my
nipples, or both. It was exactly the kind of brutality he got off on, and
he pumped big loads in my hole each time.

Finally, they were all spent. I don't know how many guys were there using
me, but they all must have emptied their balls inside one of my holes at
least once, and probably several times. My belly felt bloated from all the
cum and piss I'd been forced to swallow. I wondered if I needed to have my
stomach pumped. My mouth was so cramped from sucking cock and drinking piss
I couldn't close it, instead lying there drooling on myself.

This was the worst. This was the absolute nadir, the lowest point of my
life. Travis, the sadistic young fiend, had done this to me. And he had
more in mind. Right when I was most exhausted, most psychologically
fragile, the most abused and used I'd ever been, Travis took off the
blindfold.

My eyes adjusted slowly. I could see Travis standing over me, an evil grin
on his face. He was holding the monstrous butt plug.

"Time to show everyone how much you like your new best friend, faggot" he
said ominously.

I tried to speak. I tried to protest, but I wasn't able to form words; my
mouth too exhausted from being used as a cumdump and urinal. I shook my
head weakly. In doing so, I saw a few of the men around me: a few I
recognized as former students, though my brain was too fogged to name
them. Some looked like criminals, others like skaters. All of them were
young and kind of trashy. Most were white, with some Hispanic and black
faces in the bunch. All were staring at me in fascinated disgust. Most had
their phones out, recording what was happening.

"Grab those legs," Travis ordered.

Two of the guys grabbed my legs and pulled them wide apart, holding them
firmly, exposing my ravaged hole to the entire room. At this point, I
couldn't fight back no matter how much I wanted to. Travis held up the plug
so everyone could get a good look at the size of it. I heard a few gasps,
mixed with a few comments like, "No way!" and "Where is all that gonna
fit?"

Travis stood between my legs and positioned the plug at my hole. I began to
whine like a dog, begging him without words not to do this. He started
pushing the plug against my hole. All the cocks that had been in me that
night had stretched and bruised my asshole inside and out. I hoped it would
make the plug easier to get in, but it didn't. The cum from all these men
was the only lube Travis used as he relentlessly pushed the plug into my
ass. I began to wail, a high keening sound as the first cone stretched me
deep inside, the ball on the tip of the plug pressing against the bruises
inside me left from all those men raping me.

"Stuff something in the fag's mouth, will ya?" Travis said. Some guy I
didn't know shoved a sock in my mouth - a very dirty, sweat-filled sock. I
didn't know whose it was, but the taste of sweaty feet mixed with the taste
of cum and piss in my mouth.

When my anal ring stretched over the widest part of the first cone, I
screamed into the dirty sock. The pain was intense. Then my hole contracted
just slightly as it met the thick connecting shaft between the two cones of
the plug. The shaft itself was almost as fat as Jesse's big prick.

Travis continued his relentless pushing of the plug. I heard a few guys
around me begin to debate if it would fit, and a few even made bets on it,
as if my torture was a side show for entertainment. Travis used his other
hand to reach out and smack me in the balls very hard. I screamed, my body
tensing, trying futilely to protect my balls and force out the giant plug
in my ass. Travis had it braced against his hand though, so instead of
going back out, he simply shoved it in further. I began to pant from the
pain.

"Yo, Josh," Travis said, "Hand me that wire hanger over there on the
table."

Josh handed the hanger to Travis, who looked at me while holding the plug
halfway up my ass. "All right fag. You're going to take this fucking plug,
even if I have to beat it into you. Either get this plug up your ass, or
I'm gonna beat your balls." He whacked the hanger against my nuts to drive
his order home. I screamed into the sock, pain radiating throughout my
body. I was afraid I would vomit, but fought it back down, terrified of
what would happen if I vomited up all that cum and piss. With my mouth
stuffed full of a dirty sock, I might well choke to death on it.

Travis pushed harder, holding the hanger at the ready to beat my nuts
again. I don't know what happened. Somehow, some way, the plug slowly slid
in. I didn't want it to. I've resisted something as much in my life. But
slowly, inch after painful inch, that enormous plug slid into me, making me
feel stretched like I hadn't imagined possible. When the second cone
reached its widest point, stretching my hole to the limit, Travis hit my
balls again with the hanger. As soon as I screamed and thrashed from the
blow, he shoved hard, forcing the plug the rest of the way inside me.

I passed out. Everything went white, then black.

I was only out for a few seconds, apparently. When I came to, it felt like
there was some creature lodged deep inside my guts. It was like I wasn't
even myself anymore; something else had taken over my insides, something
cruel and foreign and endlessly painful. Even slight movement caused the
plug to shift, driving it into me from different angles as it shifted.

"Ha! Told ya he'd take it, dudes!" Travis crowed, like he'd accomplished
something and proven a point at the same time. "Unlock the faggot." The
guys holding my legs let go, then unhooked my wrists. "Get him up," Travis
ordered. They lifted me, but my legs wouldn't work. "Put him on his
knees. That's where bitches belong, anyway," he said with a smirk. I
collapsed on to my hands and knees. It was all I could do to hold myself
up. From this position, the plug inside me reached even deeper. The small
cone with the ball on top was lodged deep inside me, stretching my second
sphincter, causing a deep ache to radiate throughout my abdomen.

Travis walked over, his bare feet right under my face. He grabbed me by the
hair and pulled the sock out of my mouth. "Time to say thank you, fag."

I lowered myself slowly until I could kiss his feet, trying to move as
little as possible to avoid moving the plug inside me any more than
necessary. "Thank you for your cum, Sir," I gasped, kissing both his feet
as pain radiated through me.

"Yeah? What else, bitch?"

I kissed his feet again. "Thank you for your piss, Sir."

"And what about your gift, ungrateful cunt? Did you forget about that
already? Do I need to take it out and put it back in again, pervert?"
Travis demanded.

"Thank you for the gift of the butt plug, Sir!" I practically shouted into
his feet as I kissed them both repeatedly, all the men around me watching,
many of the laughing as well.

"You better crawl over and thank Josh, too, faggot. He got you all that
nice stuff you're wearing."

I crawled over to Josh slowly, every movement a torment because of the
massive plug in my ass. Josh was wearing just his boxers. I kissed his
sweaty, bare feet. I thanked him for the plug, the collar, the chastity
cage. Anything to make these men happy, to keep them from abusing me more.

It was when I was bent over kissing Josh's feet that I noticed the writing
on my forearm. Black marker, Sharpie from the looks of it. The kind that
takes forever to get off. It looked like graffiti: "Derek fucked this fag!"
It was scrawled across my arm. I glanced at my body, and saw I was covered
in more comments, all in black Sharpie. It was all over me: my legs, my
chest, my feet. I was sure it was all over my face and ass as well. These
men, most of them strangers, had not only used me however they wanted,
they'd marked me after they were done. Some made comments; many wrote their
names, to prove they'd been part of the fun, that they'd had their way with
me.

"I think you need to thank everyone here, don't you, shit stain?" Travis
demanded. I knew what he wanted. I slowly began to crawl from man to man,
kissing each one's feet, thanking him for his cum and his piss. A few
decided they wanted photos. Two stood on one side of me, two on the other,
each resting a foot on my back, like I was a trophy animal they'd captured
or killed. One grabbed my hair and forced my head up, so I was looking
right at Josh, who was taking pics with his phone.

I kissed the feet of every man there. I tried to count how many there were,
but lost track due to the pain. Some men were barefoot, and I kissed their
smelly, sweaty feet, one or two even sticking their toes in my mouth. Some
were in shoes, some in boots, two in flip flops. I groveled in front of
each one, praying it would be enough, that they were satisfied with my
performance and wouldn't hurt me further.

Finally, it was done. The men left after saying goodbye to Travis. Josh was
the last to leave. He stayed long enough to make me lick his feet clean,
then put his socks and boots back on for him. After making me lick his
boots one last time, he said goodbye to Travis and walked out, taking my
hopes of being released from the plug and chastity cage with
him. Apparently, he'd given them, along with the the collar and wrist
cuffs, to Travis. I was stuck with them.

Travis ordered me back over to the dog cage. There were small puddles of
piss and cum around it; some that had missed my mouth or ass, some that had
dripped out of me.

"Clean that nasty shit up, freak," Travis ordered. I began scouring the
floor around the cage with my tongue, licking up the cold, mixture of piss
and cum from the men who had used me. Once it was cleaned up, Travis
ordered me to crawl in the cage and locked me in.

"Get used to your new kennel, fag," he said, walking away. He headed toward
the bedroom, turning out the lights and leaving me in the dark.

I lay down in the cage as best as I could. It was too small for me to
stretch out. The blanket on the bottom reeked of dog scent, not to mention
cum and piss. The ache inside me reached to my core, contrasting with the
sharper, knife-like pains coming from my imprisoned dick. There was no way
I'd be able to sleep.

I knew it would be a long, painful night.


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Thanks to all of you who have written to me about this story.  I love to
hear from readers!

Please contact me at jeffhamby1025@gmail.com