Date: Sun, 5 Jun 2011 05:32:02 -0700 (PDT) From: Vincent Vincent Subject: Whittling a Fucktube, Chapter 4 First, the basics. This is, once again, a work of FICTION. Real-life considerations will take a back seat to erotic pleasure and story-telling; this slave does not exist. Wanna change that? Or just wanna share comments/praise/criticism? Fine: Not_your_Typical_Master@yahoo.com Copyright 2011 Whittling a Fucktube, Chapter 4 Hey, thanks for inviting Me over for lunch. Tastes great. You're a damn good cook. No, seriously. I'm impressed. This is one top-notch burger. Hmm? Oh, yeah, back to the fucktube. Hey, whorehole, get over here and worship My pal's shithole. Slide your tongue in nice and deep. Um, buddy, you're gonna have to help the bitch a little; slide your shorts down . . . . There you go. Now just put your feet up on the chair so it can slide itself between your legs. Great, man. So, where was I? Oh, so I was telling you that I told it I'd be inviting friends over. Yeah, that's true, but I gotta backtrack a little first. Explain to you how I had to not only whittle its insides, but also its flesh. Make everything match, you know? Hmm? Don't follow me? See, it was feeling truly submissive and docile, but it still carried itself like a dude, you know? All those years of hiding its true self from itself and the rest of the world, the facade had become very strong. I needed to get it to look in the mirror and see a fucktube looking back. Forever reinforcing its real identity, its true self. So how the fuck do you accomplish something like that? Body art, man. Body art. Fortunately, I've gotten a little art work done over the years. Yeah, I don't show it off. Someday, if you're lucky, I'll peel off some clothes and show you. But anyway, I knew where the good talent was in the field. So I dragged the bitch in with me and we made it happen. Yeah, I see you're making the connection already. Right. "FUCKTUBE" across its collarbone. It wasn't born with that. I put it there, of course. I fucking love the way it surrounds its neck. Makes you instinctively want to plunge your dick down its throat, doesn't it? It's so much better than some stupid chain or slave collar. It's not jewelry; it's a label, but it's so much more. It's inspirational. It's art. Just like the ink around its fuckhole. That circle on its ass, colored like a dartboard with its hole as the prize in the center. Any man sees that, he can't help but imagine hitting a bullseye with His cock. It's fucking beautiful, don'cha think? You can't help but stare at it, the colors are so rich and deep. And as soon as you see it, your dick is already fucking it inside your head. Just gotta follow through and make it happen for real. And there's no way a fagbitch like this is going to stop you. No fucking way. And then there are the rings. I know you've noticed them. Just been too shy to ask, I guess. No problem. The one in its nose -- that marks it as chattel. Like some prize bull. Or some prize bitch, more appropriately. I enjoy using that ring for My leash. Walking My fucktube down the street. It gets so fucking humiliated when I do that. But it gets so turned on as well. Heh. Never felt a faggot moan up your ass before? Fuckin' great, isn't it? Which leads Me to the second ring. The chastity ring. You ever seen one of those before? They're pretty rare. Any guy can get a PA, but a chastity ring is something special. Yeah, it slides in its piss slit like a PA, but it slides all the way down its prick, coming out at the base. So its prick wraps around the ring. No fucking way it can get an erection. Not without ripping its flesh from the ring. Yeah, I know. Long-term chastity can cause problems. I make sure it gets milked. But I mean by pounding its prostate, fucking its guts, until it leaks and drools out some seed without ever getting hard. At this state of its training, it's nearly always dripping a little. I've had to train it to watch and lick up any leakage off the floor. Or else all My floors would be stained by now. And then, there's the piece de resistance: its nip rings. Yeah, I know, almost every fag bitch in town has nip rings. What makes these so fucking special? Back out of his hole, queerbitch, and sit up straight. Let him stare at those nips. You see that nice thin bar attached to his rings? You ever seen My fucktube without it? Of course you haven't. It's a permanent fixture. Welded onto the rings. Fuck, yeah, that process was fun to watch. But keep staring at that bar. See those markings? Looks like a small grab bar, doesn't it? You see that bar and again, your instinct tells you to grab and pull. That's what it's there for. Go ahead. Do what your brain tells you to do. Grab and pull. Fuck yeah. See that look in its eyes? Hear that sweet moan? See its impaled prick pulse around that ring? You know what to do. Exactly right, pal. Pull even harder. Look at its eyes. See how they're begging you? What do you think -- is it begging you to stop, or begging you for more? Perfect answer, buddy. It doesn't know either. It's caught in that sweet cycle of agonizing bliss. That's the beauty of fucktubes like Mine. Pain, pleasure, it's all the same thing. All mixed up together. Used to be, its life would be one without the other. Now it's discovered the joy of this synergy. The two together are way more powerful than either one alone. Isn't that right, dickbreath? Yeah, thought so. So anyway, it wasn't until after I had added all this gleam, all this bling to My bitch that it was ready to be found by my "friends." And by friends, I mean complete strangers on the web who liked the idea of putting a cocksucker to use. Yeah, you can see where this is going, can't you? I like the way you think, buddy. But, man, that's a whole discussion onto itself. I need to take My fucktube and head back home. Tell ya' what. I'll see you at the gym during the week. Oh, crap, I gotta take this call on my cell. Hang on a second. Yes? Oh, hey there Mr. Besst. Yeah, we're working on that shipment for you. Our quality control validated the initial inspection, so I'll probably have it in within the next couple of weeks. But then we'll still need time for . . . Exactly. Probably another six months or so. Thanks. I'll call you then. Take care. Sorry, pal. Work shit. Can never quite get away from it, can you? Anyway, yeah, I'll see you at the gym and I'll have the fucktube make us some dinner. Then I'll tell you about its time with My "friends".