Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2024 10:36:03 -0500 From: Robert Halstead Subject: Breaking Me In 18 Chapter 18. Dammit! I've simply got to let go of my own resistance. I've got to learn that what Tyler wants for me will always be what will bring me more deeply into the type of submission he wants for me. I have to learn to trust that whether it be pain or pleasure, it is what he knows I need. As my Master, he directs the course of my existence and there will always be unexpected surprises along the way, no matter where I find myself---in the stocks or bound to a whipping post or simply resting in sumptuous bliss unlike anything I ever thought I'd deserve, unlike anything I ever thought I'd desire. I keep quiet when we leave the restaurant and get on our way. As so often happens, Tyler speaks to me in his seductive voice. "I want things for you that you don't realize you need. You are my slave, pup. Earlier today you had your hole opened and penetrated by my friends' cocks so you could understand how much it pleases me to share you with others, how much it pleases me to show you that your body no longer belongs to you. I'm sure your hole is still throbbing a bit. I bet you were hoping that one of us had fucked you all the way and shot our load inside you, but I'm saving that for later. I'm turning you into a catamite, boy. Do you know what that is?" "No, Master, I don't." "A catamite is a boy who gets fucked. It's simple. I enjoyed watching my friends shove their dicks up your ass. I enjoyed seeing the look on your face when you realized that I want you used this way, that it gives me pleasure to turn you into a slut who gets both holes filled on a regular basis. That is what I want you to be. That is what I want to keep enjoying. That is what I envision when we are all together, my tribe and you, and you realize that each one of us knows what it's like to be inside you. To be inside you when your own insignificant dicklit is locked up and you're unable to touch it or to pleasure yourself with it. WE pleasure you by pleasuring ourselves. That is the kind of slut you're becoming, baby. Not only my slut but our slut. Open to all I choose to share you with." "But some things are reserved for just you and me, boy. For now, you serve as my urinal. You drink my piss several times a day. Only mine. Only I see how beautiful you look with my cock in your mouth and my piss causing you to gulp me down. The fact that this is difficult for you and causes tears to flow down your face while it's happening gives me great joy because it tells me that you have surrendered. It tells me that I own you." "But that's not enough. That's only half of the coin. The other half is one that few slaves like you are lucky enough to experience, the part that Bobby could never have exposed you to. But I've told you, boy, not only do you belong to me but also you and I are in a relationship, bound by an emotional intensity that most bdsm slaveboys never get to taste. That's why I'm bringing you to Fernando now after you've been gang fucked. You need to be love-fucked as well." The place is beautiful and the pattern of the strobes is hypnotic. The music is ethereal, unlike anything I have ever heard before, and it fills me with peace. "What is this music, Master?" I ask. "It's not music, boy. It's brain waves. It feels good to listen to, doesn't it? "Yes, Sir. Your boy is feeling very good right now." "My boy should be naked. Beautifully naked. Offering his Master his entire body." Quickly I shed my clothes and even get barefoot because there's plush carpeting everywhere and I feel like I'm walking on clouds. I stay close to the ground and kiss his feet and even try to make love to his ankles, but he gently tells me stand up and follow him. He brings me into a lavishly appointed bedroom (or maybe I should say "bedchamber") and has me lie on the bed with my legs spread and my hands beside my head and I watch him as he sensuously undresses, and I've never seen him undress this way before, so artfully. So seductive. And I cry out, "I want you!" and then feel embarrassed for admitting it while a little while ago I was thinking of running away. But whenever I'm with him I always seem to tell him my deepest secrets. "I know what you want." "Please whip your boy tonight, Master." I don't know why I said that, but it just felt like I wouldn't be at peace unless he took charge of me that way. "Don't worry, baby. I know what you need. I love you, my adorable faggot cocksucking piss-drinking slaveboy. But now it is not time for whipping. It's time for love." He lies down alongside me and uses his mouth and his fingers and his tongue to draw such awesome painful pleasure out of every part of my body and the brainwaves subtly shift and I lay there trembling with tears flooding out of my eyes and I don't know why. "That's my good boy. Shed your tears for me. Shed me an ocean of devotion. Understand your life's purpose, to be a slave, a slave that is loved by its Masters." He has lube ready for me, I don't know how, but things like this happen in stories, I guess. He lays me over his thighs and I brace for another spanking, but there is none of that. Only gentle motions. His fingers encircle the hole that I used to think was mine but now I know is his and anyone he wants to share it with. I remember earlier today when the four entered me just to get me acquainted with their cocks, but now it is only my Master and his fingers are opening me up and every tiny motion they make is pleasurable. "That's my good boy," he whispers. "Open for your Master. Give your Master your hidden places." I don't remember how, but I am now on my back and he is raising my legs and telling me to hold on to them and keep them on high so I can offer my hole to him. "My hole," he says to me and I remember him telling me that it is not a pussy. It is a boy's hole. His boy's hole. I am offering it to him and he looks down at me and smiles as I continue to shed tears. "Please, Master," I utter with a sigh, and he enters me and claims what belongs to him. It seems like hours that he keeps fucking me and exploring different places inside me. He finds my prostate and I hope and pray that he'll give me an orgasm that way but I dare not ask for such a selfish thing, but I want so much to cum, so so much. "Please, Master, Please make your slave cum in its cage," I say over and over and he begins moving in the way that is going to cause it to happen because I feel things arising from inside me that I haven't felt for a very long time, and yes, oh yes, I feel myself spilling into the cage and through the openings made by the design, and there is a strange sort of pleasure in the head of my little cock and it lasts for a very long time—much longer than my orgasms used to be back when I was allowed to jerk off. A lifetime ago. He smiles down at me. "See how much I love you?" he says, as he leans down to kiss me, still inside me and now fucking me again. "You even get fucked after you cum, boy. That's what you're here for. Now make love to your Master with your body." Suddenly he is motionless and I know what he wants. He wants me to use my body to jerk him off while he is buried in my ass. And I do exactly what he wants and I can read it in his face, and as I fuck myself on him he starts to drool and lets it fall all over my face. His mouth is adorable while he baptizes me with his spit once again. At last, he growls like a bear as he shoots his load into me and then collapses on top of me to rub his spit into my face and to kiss me the way I love so much. We fall asleep for a short time. Finally, Master gets up off the bed and takes me by the hand and brings me into a very large shower area and we're flooded with sweet-smelling warm water and my Master washes my body the way he always does when he's feeling especially romantic. For the first time I don't tighten up when he does this but naturally surrenders to his touch because he owns this body and I have no right to deny him access, at least for now. Once showered, he dries me with the softest towel I've ever felt, and himself, and attendants bring our clothing to us so we can get dressed. The outside air smells so strange after being in that atmosphere for long. As he drives me home he tells me that the staff was intrigued by our making used of that facility because Fernando's Hideaway is there for lovers, but it's never been patronized by a Master and his slave and they must have learned a lot from seeing us together, but of course they don't know the rest of my life as Tyler's slave. And I'm not sure they would enjoy seeing some of it. When he brings me home that night, naked and warm and slowly coming back into my ordinary mind, everything seems different. We leave the car and I crawl through the grass and the dirt, up into his home—our home. I hear his ordinary commanding voice. "I need to piss," he says. I kneel up and put my mouth around the head of his magnificent cock and eagerly await the awful taste of his piss and the feeling that I've become the most degraded of all slaves. It flows into my mouth, warm and acrid and before long I'm gulping it down. Gulping down my Master's piss. I hate it and love it all at the same time, but I know it must be because he wants to be able to subjugate me this much. I gulp. He puts a hand to my throat to feel the action. Finally, he's finished. "Suck what's left out of my cock, faggot. Suck it dry and clean it with your tongue like the slut you are. Suck it so it can give you strength, because I plan to whip you." I do what he says. I fear the whipping to come even while my flesh cries out for the agonizing lashes and I don't understand why it is that I'm so willing to surrender to this, but I do understand that it makes me a better slave. He takes me into the dungeon, him on foot, me on all fours, and clears a wide space in the middle of the room. He selects a whip, a long brown single lash. He knows this whip isn't severe. It stings a lot and leave light marks on the flesh, but there's a lot more to it when he whips me while I'm down on the ground like this. "Take it," he says, and he lays the lash across my back stretching form my neck and down my back and up around my balls. I scream. A second lash wraps completely round my chest and the tip of it manages to whip my left nipple and I scream again. He shouts back at me: "Mine!" and the lash strikes my ass and the side of my leg. "Dance!" he commands, and I do so gladly so that the lashes won't keep landing in the same place. He orders me to dance but the truth is that I'm writhing and screaming and crying as I try to escape the whip but only present another part of my body to be lashed. At one point I'm on my side and he kicks me so I land flat on my back. "Stay!" he commands, and marks the front of my slaveboy body with the evidence I've been whipped. He holds his foot over my groin, pressing it down as he continues to whip my chest. Finally he takes his foot off me and I scamper up and try to crawl as far from him and his whip as I can. This time he lets me get away. He hangs the whip on a hook in the wall and then comes to me and I wrap my arms around his legs and old on with all my might as I continue to sob from the pain almost all over my body, but despite that pain, in the midst of my sobs I hear myself saying the words, "Thank you, Master. You own me." I keep saying it and as I do, the biting pain starts to soften and eventually I feel nothing but a warm pleasurable glow in all my flesh. "Mine," he says, and "You are my good boy," and my heart swells to hear those words being engraved into my spirit. He clips a leash onto my collar and he pulls me in the direction he wants to go, over to a set of stocks such as used to be seen in Western movies. He makes me stand and lays my wrists and my neck on the lower part of the stock and then closes the top over me and I am trapped there and I can't help but remember a whipping scene I once saw in one of the movies where the young guy was whipped unconscious while all the townsfolk looked on. He wasn't naked—that would be unheard of at that time. He was fully clothed but as the whip fell on him it tore his shirt and shredded it. I remember that he was screaming even between the lashes of the whip and I thought this was over-acted until now, when I have learned that the pain is there after the lash so yes, I was also crying between lashes. And then my mind leaves the daydream and I focus on where I am now, and my entire naked body is glowing. Tyler walks up to me and leans over a bit so he can kiss me on the lips. He's holding a bottle of water and he feeds it to me, mouthful by mouthful, and suddenly the humiliation of that action is more acute than it's ever been before. He keeps me there for a very long time—I can't say how long because I had lost all sense of time by that point. Eventually he comes back and he's holding a bowl of food. He takes a piece of meat out of the bowl and holds it before me. I snatch it with my teeth and he smiles at me. Next I get a piece of cooked carrot soaked in some kind of liquor. Then comes a piece of potato. This continues until the bowl is empty. Master takes the bowl inside and leave me there still bound in the stocks and now my lips and chin are covered with grease and juices from the food. He comes back with something to wipe my face. And then he kisses me again. "I love feeding my boy, teaching him that everything good comes from his Master," he says after a long wet kiss. Then, oh thank God, he releases my head and hands from the stocks and carefully helps me get back down on the ground. I belong on the ground. At his feet. Never higher except when he wants my mouth on his cock and balls. Not now, though. I'm kissing and licking his bare feet, ready to spend the whole night cleaning them and giving them pleasure. And, more than ever, every pleasure I give him is giving me pleasure as well. He is the Master. I am the slave. He whips my flesh. I lick and suck his feet. Finally he pulls on the leash he's just attached to my collar again, and I follow him, keeping myself as close to the floor as possible. He leads me to his bedroom, and against the wall about ten feet from his bed there's a steel cage that's never been there before. Inside there's a very soft mattress, a hospital-style urinal, and a tube leading to a receptacle hooked to the side of the cage I guess for water. I'm really spooked. I never realized he had a cage. Oh shit!!!! He's not gonna cage me, is he? I . . I . . I don't think I could handle it. Shit, fuck and double damn! I know he knew how I was reacting. (Try reading that one fast a few times!) "I'll be right here near you all night. If you panic I'll take you out right away. Come on, baby boy, press into this for me. Let me lock you up because you know I love you and I will like it very much." I take a couple deep breaths. He waits, patient as always. Time doesn't matter. Not while I'm struggling inside about this. Goddam, locked up in a cage like a captured animal. His possession. Oh shit, it has so many meanings. Fuck. I'm gonna do it. I nod my head humbly and submissively and hear him whisper, "Good boy." He brings me right up to the open door of the cage and my face is looking inside already. I take baby steps forward. Damn, I'm willingly letting him do this to me. He smacks my ass and the pain pushes me right into the cage and I collapse down on the mattress. I hear him shut the door of the cage and I think I heard a lock clicking as well. That click hurt more than the lash of his whip. No matter, though. I'm wiped. "Sleep now, slave," he says quietly and walks away and I lie there in the cage still feeling the pain from the whipping he gave me, and I feel I am slipping more and more into a deeper slave state. Or now they call it "subspace," if I remember correctly. Anyway, soon, despite it all, I snooze. Sometime in the middle of the night I jerk awake and hit my hand on one of the bars of the cage and begin to panic. Tyler immediately springs to the cage and starts speaking to me. "Put your hands on the bars and squeeze them. Inhale for a count of seven. (he counts for me) now exhale slowly and keep squeezing the bars of the cage." We do this a couple times and I see Tyler holding a small light which he shines on his cock. "Look at my cock, boy. Stare at it and remember all the times you've had it in your mouth, when you've sucked me or cleaned my slit or when I pissed into your faggot mouth. My cock rules you, boy. Calm yourself down now, boy. You're locked in my cage because this is where I want you tonight. You don't have anywhere to go. You belong here with me. I own you, boy. I love you. I want you in this cage tonight so you can learn how little freedom you have in your life anymore. But you are mine, boy. I've put you away for the night because I want to sleep alone tonight and didn't want you wandering around. I'm right nearby, boy. I'm here when you need me. I'll let you out in the morning so you can fix my breakfast. But now, I want you here. Locked up like a valued possession. Because that's what you are. All mine. Safe. Understand?" With a faint and quivering voice, I answer him, and it takes every ounce of my strength because I hate this: "Yes, Master. I am yours." "Now go back to sleep or you'll be caned." That's the last thing he said to me. There were marks of tears on my cheeks in the morning light when he unlocked the cage so I could make my way out and then kiss his feet. "Thank you, Master. Thank you for keeping me safe." And I must confess that I began wondering if life as his slave might end up being far too much for me. I have to confess that to him. Maybe after breakfast. #### Please write me and let me know what you think of this new story. subkodak25@gmail.com I now have a pictures of BOBBY, TYLER, and the boy (narrator). Ask and I'll email the ones you want. Here are the other stories I have posted, with the dates where you can find them: The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022 Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023 Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023 Brandon's Brothers 5/19/2023 Total Subjugation 5/25/2023 Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 Training Toby 12/31/2023 Finally, please make a donation to Nifty, no matter how small. Our contributions help keeping this wonderful site alive.