Date: Thu, 25 Jan 2024 20:25:48 -0500
From: Robert Halstead <subkodak25@gmail.com>
Subject: Breaking Me In 20

Chapter 20

I couldn't believe it! Tyler watched me crying for a while. Then he came
over and—now get-this—he licked up my tears. Once he was done he got
close to me and looked into my face and I into his, and he said in a soft
loving voice, "The tears you cry are your gifts to me. Every time, even if
I'm not present. In a way you cannot understand, I drink all your tears in
my heart." Wow. That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard. But then
again, I can't forget why I'm crying so often. He's the one who is making
me cry. And each tear he drinks makes him have even more power over
me. When I look into his face after he stopped speaking, I could see the
face of a god of some kind. This god who created me for himself.  This god
who is taking me back to himself. And I am overwhelmed with love and
submissiveness.

Later he took me to an animal shelter. "When I find just the right puppy,
I'm going to get it," he tells me, and I'm happy about that. So once we get
there he tells the person running the place that he's looking for a puppy
so could they get into the enclosure, and she readily agrees, thinking that
she could change into a puppy right now. All this while I'm thinking that
I'm going to have to share Master with a puppy! How selfish! So anyway, we
get to the kennel the puppies are in and she opens the door so we can get
in. I got right on to the floor and had puppies all over me and I was
loving it and got completely lost in the experience for a bit, but once I
looked for Tyler, he was standing there in the corner watching me. I looked
up and smiled at him. He smiled back but told me to stand up. It was time
to leave.

So I did. Reluctantly, I admit. "May your pup ask a question, Master" He
chuckles. "Sure, pup. What's up?"

"Why did you just stand there watching and didn't touch any of the
puppies?"

"So I can find what I'm looking for: a puppy who will be part of you, if
you know what I mean?

"I . . . I think so, Sir ...a puppy who can bond . . . um
. . . .experientially with me?"

"So well bonded that you blend together."

I laugh my head off. Tyler is getting spooky today. So basically, he's
looking for the perfect puppy for me and he'll keep looking until he finds
it.

I get right into my head as we're riding along and he gives me the space to
do it. He's such a safe driver. So I begin to wonder if there's anything I
can do to help him make up his mind? Yeah, I know that sounds corny, but
. . . . I can be just as spooky as Tyler sometimes. And I get to try it out
an hour later because he takes us to another shelter about ten miles
away. Same deal. Same invitation. So once we get in their cage, I get
aggressive with the puppies and pick a couple for special attention. I
finally narrow it down to one and I'm snuggling my face into it's neck,

Tyler tells me put the puppy down and get back in the car. Shit! My theory
didn't work. I found the puppy I really wanted and he told me to put it
down and get outside. I guess it's not based on what I think I like. Oh
hell! I'm so confused. I have no idea what's going on and what Tyler's
looking for. But just the same, I had a lot of fun today playing with
puppies. Tyler found a way to make me feel real good after a challenging
day.

In the car I thanked him and even snuggled him a little the way the puppies
and me were snuggling today. He chuckles and kisses me on the side of my
head then orders me to sit up straight and put on my seat belt. "And take
off your shirt. I want to see the seat belt up against your bare flesh." I
got off my shirt easily before I put on the seat belt—smart. As he was
driving us either to another shelter or home, he started toying with my
nips when we stopped for a traffic light. One time a priest was in the car
next to us and he WINKED! before we both drove on. I had a good laugh at
that! Not everyone is an asshole.

Tyler slaps each nipple then puts his hand back on the steering
wheel. "Guess what we're doing when we get home?" I sighed. Deeply. He
smiled.  After I stripped he put his favorite collar around my neck and he
locked each of my wrists in an iron manacle usually used on one man. How
gothic! And then I couldn't think any more because he's hurting my nipples
so much. "Remember your safe words," he says, and damn, that means I have
control over how much pain I could take.

I gasp when he puts the clips on my nipples, metallic with heavy connecting
them and the pain digs itself more deeply in me. I'm so close to
breaking. But then he gives another command: "All fours," and I realize
what that's going to do to me as the clips and chain hang down from me and
I scream out "RED !!!!!!!" He reaches under me and takes one off and I cry
out more, then the other one, but the pain continues more.

He helps me kneel up, but the pain is the same. He gives me a hit of
popper—something he rarely ever does and I'm not allowed to ask for
it---and it helps stimulate my inner slave feel real good slave
pain. That's good because his next command to me is "blow me, slave."

He sat down and had me pull his pants off and massage his feet, but when he
opened his legs, I dove right down to his cock which was only half-hard, so
I worked my tongue and kept sucking and it was awesome to feel how it ended
up getting hard. I started bobbing on him, taking all of him after only a
few strokes and feeling myself gag but stayed right there for a bit. I
backed off and kept stroking and got my hands involved as well, and he
quickly came, saying, "here's a nice drink for my slave," and then, of
course, I cleaned him up, including his slit until he broke it off me and
said "feet!"

I wanted to stay where I was for longer, but I no longer have any ability
to create any circumstances when it comes to sex. He calls the shots. I
obey. And sometimes it's hard to do. Like now.

I slowly move down. He slaps me across the face. "Get your brain telling
you to obey," he says. Damn! I don't know how he manages to tell I wasn't
into it. He reaches down and pinches a nipple and I cry out and start
salivating over his feet and really wishing I could have another hit of
popper, now that I know he has them, but it doesn't happen. Once again I
have to remind myself that I'm his slave and that I better start better
service to my Master's feet. And I stay there for a long time, it seems,
until he tells me to get up and go brush my teeth. That sounds strange. He
didn't piss. Why brush now?

time passes . . . . .

Wow. We're making out and he is so goddam alpha even when he's kissing me
and I can easily give back what he does to me but he never lets me take
charge for a bit. No. Not Tyler. And it's so wonderful! After all, that's
what I've always said I was looking for. Sure. Sometimes I feel too
restricted or humiliated or unappreciated, but these are not emotions which
should take over in a slave's mind. It's the most basic rule: no
grumbling. I have safe words. I've only used one just a while ago. That has
to be enough.

At 5 pm I'm sitting alone in a chair in my little "safe space" room that
Master gave me, and I'm listening to Pat Conroy's The Lords of Discipline
which is a story supposedly about The Citadel military academy. It's very
homoerotic. Tyler suggested it to me and I can see why. Even the worst he'd
ever want to do to me pales in comparison to what those cadets were doing
to the plebes on a regular basis. I guess it could really happen somewhere,
but I don't know for sure. I certainly wouldn't want to be involved in
anything like that.

Tyler comes to the opening (there's no door to close) to tell me that he's
going out to visit a friend for a couple hours, what I can have for supper
and that I should clean myself out and shower before around 7
pm. Interesting. Something's afoot.

I'm hardly ever here by myself like this and it feels weird. At least, I
think, he didn't just lock me up on that fucking cage. But that would be
too dangerous to leave someone in inescapable bondage alone for any period
of time unless this was pre-arranged and accepted. That would definitely be
a RED for me!

I fix my supper (an omelet, which I hardly ever get to have), and then just
keep listening to the book until it's time to clean up and get myself ready
for him. I could play on my phone, which I'm allowed only at certain times,
but everything I do on it is reported to him, so I can't get into any
mischief. If I want to watch porn, there's plenty in Master's mailbox and
he likes me to view it because it teaches technique and helps get me into a
more permanent submissive state of mind. I don't like most of it. The
Masters are always too mean and the subs are obviously masochistic actors
who I hope make a lot of money going through the things that are done to
them. I could never make it that way, although since Tyler's been
increasing the pain, I might end up surprising myself. But I really believe
I could only do it for Tyler.

Well, maybe for Bobby as well. Well, probably, for all the members of the
Tribe. If that would please Tyler. Sometimes I worry that he might be
training me to become a slave to all five of them, but then again that
wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing as long as it were Tyler's wish and
Tyler gets pleasure out of it. At this point, I don't even know if I could
ever go back to Bobby as his boy. Not after being with Tyler and tasting
his discipline and training.

Speaking of which: I'm now clean inside and out, freshly showered. It's
7:10 and I hear his car pull in and another car as well. Two doors slam and
he's talking to someone on their way in. I go to the door and
grovel. That's the way he wants me to be whenever he brings someone
over. They come inside and it's Stan with him. "What an adorable sight!
Does the boy always greet you this way?" he asks Tyler.

"Mostly only when we have guests. He heard us talking so he know I had
someone with me. Therefore, this is the way I've trained him to greet
us. It solves a lot of questions. Especially by some dudes who know nothing
about the scene other than I have a naked slaveboy at home, same age as
me. Their reactions are interesting. One guy just ignored him and we went
inside to have a drink and this slave simply fell asleep right there where
he was. Perfectly acceptable to me. The guy I was with never said a single
thing or asked a single question. We were talking about the next election,
mostly. Finally, when he left, he didn't even look at the boy sleeping on
the floor. Just said goodbye and made his way to his car.  I know to stay
in place until spoken to. Tyler speaks. "Kneel up, boy. Stan's here to look
you over. I'm going to let him watch me fuck you, then maybe do so
himself." I kneel up and Stan taps me on the head.

"You being a good boy?" he asks me. "Always, Sir," is my smart-alec
answer. "I'm taking my chance with you later and I'll see how good a boy
you can be."  "Yes, Sir, plea se enjoy yourself." I like that answer. It's
very open-ended because I'm not assuming I know what he will consider
enjoying.

"I intend to, pup, I intend to." I wonder if they even know my real name?
None of them have ever used it, including both Bobby and Tyler, who could
name me anything they want. For now they're just sticking with the generic
"pup." Meaningless. Just a place-holder.

Tyler takes over: "Let's go to the dungeon." He brings Stan and I come
crawling after, not even looking up because Stan really turns me on,
although I don't know what he's into. Tyler tells me to lie on my back on a
table by the wall and then he binds me with my legs all the way chained up
to the wall with my hole exposed. Tyler likes fucking me this way now that
he's broken me open. I like it as well. It seems to be the easier position,
especially when he's in the mood to fuck his slave roughly. Which he does,
immediately. No fingers. Just cock. Hard and invasive, claiming my channel
and gut, using me like I'm just one of those blow-up objects some guys get
hooked on. Never saw one myself. I'd have no use for it.

This is a bit strange. Tyler's said nothing to me at all. In fact, he's
talking to Stan while he's fucking me. "I can be as rough as I want when I
have the slave in this position. It's the easiest way in. You're certainly
welcome to rip off a piece of this slut yourself, Stan, unless you have
something else in mind."

"Will it lick my ass?" Stan asks.

"sorry, no," says Tyler. "I've had three doctors tell me it's too
dangerous. I'm not allowing it, even for myself."

"Really? I didn't know that," says Stan. "Well then, I could go for a long
slow blow job. With it in a sling."

"Be my guest," says Tyler, and dammit, he leaves the room to give Stan
privacy.

Stan strips off. Damn he's got a nice chest and his dick is thicker than
Tyler's but about the same length. Good. I can take it easily. He gets me
situated in the sling the say he wants. I'm practically upside down. He
orders me to open my mouth. He spits in it several times and slaps my face
a lot. Hard. Then he plunges in, and with me in this position he's able to
split my throat wide open and then hold himself deep inside with me gagging
and choking. "That's right, faggot. Choke on your man's cock." He pulls out
and a whole bunch of phlegm spills out onto the floor. "Probably should
make you lick that up, pup. Make it a good meal for you. Anyway, open
again!" And he plunges in and then fucks my head good without getting that
deep again.

Funny. He told Tyler he wanted a long slow blow job, but that's not what
he's going for when he's got me alone. Just before he comes, he reaches
forward and grabs my nipples and it causes my mouth to open wider since I
want to scream. At just that moment he shoots a huge load down my throat
and this time I do choke on it because I can't swallow it this way. Some of
it spills out and that really pisses Stan off. "You're fucking definitely
clean up that mess now, bitch." he says. It's a production to get me out of
the sling. Stan doesn't really have any experience with this, but he makes
good on his order. He grabs a crop lying nearby (how convenient!) and uses
it to "motivate" me to quickly slurp up the fowl load on the floor, both
his cum and my phlegm. He peppers my back with blows from the crop and
shit! that hurts a lot. I get real eager cleaning up the mess trying not to
think of what it's made of.

"Don't get much of a chance to work a sub," he tells me as he's getting
dressed. "Most of the time I'm just vanilla. The guys want me to come to
Hank's place, but I haven't gotten the urge yet. Maybe after school's
over. I'd hate to do something real depraved and then have to face my
innocent kindergarten children the next morning."

####

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

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Damn, he sounds like a really nice teacher. Good for him