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From Student to Slave


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Mr. Miller strapped Brian’s hands and legs in the harness, caressing his slave’s skin as he went. Some masters tattooed their slaves. Others even branded him. Both ideas made his cock throb. A biohazard tattoo was surely going to happen, but Mr. Miller didn’t know just how far he wanted to go. He would use Brian beyond merely fucking him; he would have him go out and buy him things, run errands, all the things that wasted his valuable time, so he couldn’t send him out with tattoos all over his face, attracting attention. Still, something permanent, something other than his strain, would get his blood flowing each time he saw it. It would take some planning on his part.

Once Brian was restrained, Mr. Miller lined his cock up with his hole, a glob of precum oozing out. “I hope for your sake, you’ve been a bottom slut with an open pussy to any and all men, opening you up, because other than my precum, there will be no lube.” He shoved forward, the head of his cock sliding past Brian’s initial ring and causing his slave to arch his back in pain.

The trance kept Brian under Mr. Miller’s control, but it didn’t stop him from feeling pain and reacting to it. It just stopped him from running away from what he secretly wanted.

Mr. Miller could have told his slave to let him inside, to relax his muscles, but the resistance caused the nerves of his cock to scream out in pleasure. The young man had said that he wasn’t a virgin, but he clearly wasn’t fucking as much as other college students. Years ago, Mr. Miller had been fucking one of his students every day for half a semester; that was before he was poz or had been able to create videos hypnotizing his prey. The last he heard, that student had moved to California, stared in a few pornos, and then vanished. He had been a good fuck, but his need to be equally pleasured had been such a hassle. Perhaps that is why Mr. Miller had set out to find a way to make fucking all about himself. After years of cycling through men, he learned that he only cared about his own dick.

Brian’s hole slowly opened up to Mr. Miller’s thick cock, but the way his legs and arms shook with every inch forced inside, it was clearly painful. Veins started showing along his body from the strain. There were poppers in the cabinet, but Mr. Miller rarely used them on slaves. There were times when he wanted them spun out, but this wasn’t the time. He wanted his slave to feel everything. Being numb was not allowed in sex.

Mr. Miller stopped forcing himself in once his cock was halfway inside Brian’s hole. The slave’s body was covered in sweat, glistening under the red light. The trance kept its hold, but a look of pain and pleasure still spread across Brian’s face. Without the television in front of him, the pain would bring to the surface a bit of Brian’s uncontrolled mind. Not enough for him to fight back, but enough to cry out in ecstasy when the time was right. Even with the gag, he would cry.

“Have you ever had a dick this big before, slave?” Mr. Miller asked, slowly pulling his dick out.

Brian shook his head.

“And does my dick live up to what you always imagined?”

He nodded.

“Do you want my poz cum?”

He nodded again, vigorously. 

“Good,” Mr. Miller said, knowing his slave would get it regardless of his answer. Even under the red light, he could see streaks of blood already covering his dick. Brian’s sensitive skin was making his job all too easy. He’d be a toxic slut in no time. If the plan hadn’t been for Brian to drop out of college, having him on campus for all the young men to fuck and contract Mr. Miller’s strain would have been a great idea. Perhaps, he thought, we can still make that happen.

He shoved his dick back into his slave’s hole, moving beyond where he had stopped before. Brian’s body shook, his back trying to lift out of the harness as his legs and arms tried hard to escape their restraint. What remained of Brian was trying to fight back. Clearly, under normal circumstances, Brian would have run for the hills if Mr. Miller had tried fucking him this way without putting him in a trance. There were few men who could take his dick, and even fewer who could do so without lube. Luckily, his bottoms made their own lube one way or another.

“Time to bottom out,” Mr. Miller said, shoving the rest of his dick into Brian’s ass. As his balls slapped against his slave’s ass, Brian’s eyes rolled back into his head. There was no scream, even with the ball gag in place. The trance removed his ability to scream unless requested. And while Mr. Miller loved to hear his slaves and any man scream when he fucked them, the room they were in wasn’t soundproofed. The basement, on the other hand, where Brian would be living, was a different story. He could do whatever he wanted to his slave there without anyone hearing a thing.

Mr. Miller reached a hand out and wrapped his fingers around Brian’s throat. “I won’t choke you yet,” he told his slave, holding on as he slowly slipped his dick out of the young man’s hole and shoved it back inside. Brian’s body shuddered with each forceful entry, a groan escaping. “You like having that gag in your mouth?” Mr. Miller asked.

Unable to speak, his slave nodded.

“Would you like your own balls in your mouth?”

He nodded again.

“Maybe we’ll get them long enough so you can manage to get them in your mouth. Haven’t seen that done before. I know several men who would pay big bucks to see a video of you trying.” The video from his office had already been sent to several men who Mr. Miller knew, all of whom were Masters themselves. Mr. Miller created hypnosis videos for them for the right price, though everything truly special he kept for himself. Already since that afternoon, Mr. Miller had received messages congratulating him on his new slave. Everyone was impressed.

Mr. Miller’s thrusts were no longer being met with the same resistance as before. A combination of his precum and Brian’s blood allowed for a persistent rhythm to be created. It had been almost two weeks since Mr. Miller had fucked someone (his neighbor Matt), and several days since he had jerked off. He had been saving up his load so he could fill Brian’s hole with as much toxic cum as possible. Normally, he was a huge shooter, but after days of buildup, he’d be a fucking geyser. It would take some time before he’d know if his slave was pozzed, but there was little doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t manage the task that night. His track record proved this. Many a one-night stand contacted him, telling him that he had pozzed them. A few had been angry, most worshiped at his feet, no trance required.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” Mr. Miller said, the hand not around Brian’s throat now taking hold of his slave’s balls. “Understand, slave, that you no longer have an asshole. You have a pussy. It’s made to be fucked.”

Brian tried to say something, but the gag kept him muffled.

“What was that?” Mr. Miller taunted. “Did you try to say, ‘My pussy is made to be fucked by your enormous cock, Master,’?”

Brian nodded.

“That’s right. Your whole body was made for me,” Mr. Miller said. “Your mind, no one gives a shit about. It’s worthless. Just look at the grade you deserved in my class. Pathetic. Your body, however, is the only thing that matters, and it’s mine.”

His hand could feel how hard his slave was trying to catch his breath. His Adam’s Apple kept moving along his palm. Mr. Miller squeezed a bit tighter.

“You know, a man’s neck was made to be used as a hold,” he told his slave. “A top needs something thick to hold onto.” He looked down at Brian’s cock which was swelling within the cock cage, bits of flesh sneaking out as his dick cried to be released. “So is a man’s dick when you have them in a sling. You grab on and use it to fuck harder.” He squeezed Brian’s balls again, another wave of pain coursing through his slave’s body. “The balls, on the other hand, are simply fun to torture.”

As he continued fucking his slave, Mr. Miller noticed something which made his dick even harder. Each time he bottomed out, there was a slight movement in his slave’s abdomen. His dick was so long and Brian’s body so skinny, that he could see his dick moving inside his slave’s gut. It almost looked as if an alien was trying to get out.

Mr. Miller released Brian’s throat and instead focused his attention on his slave’s balls. As before, he gripped around the scrotum and made them tight, the two egg-like balls veiny and visible. “Have you ever wondered why our testicles, the most delicate part of the male anatomy, hangs outside the body?”

Brian shook his head.

“So I can do this.” Mr. Miller slapped Brian’s balls, watching as his slave jumped in the sling, his pulling causing more pain as his master’s hold remained firm. “You’ll learn to love that feeling. You’ll get off on it. You’ll feel honored when I torture your balls. You’ll want me to stand on them, crushing them like grapes. It’ll get you off.”

Brian’s body continued to shake as Mr. Miller fucked him. He could tell that he was about to cum. He dropped Brian’s balls and grabbed hold of his neck again, this time using both hands. His grip was stronger this time, the veins along his slave’s neck jutting out.

“I’m going to give you my toxic load, slave,” Mr. Miller said, thrusting harder, trying to make as much damage inside as possible. “You’re going to take my poz cum and make it into a depraved creation, taking over your body.” His grip tightened as his balls rose up, waves of pleasure spreading from his groin and reaching every part of his body. “Fuck. I’m going to cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m cumming! I’m CUMMING!”

He burrowed himself deep into his slave’s ass and held still, feeling himself shoot ten shots of cum into Brian’s bloodied ass. His hands released his slave’s neck and grabbed hold of his nipples, twisting them. A shudder rushed over Brian as a tiny bit of cum leaked out of his caged cock, pooling and then running down his side onto the floor.

“What a pathetic last neg load,” Mr. Miller said. “I’m going to pull out of your pussy. Don’t let any of my cum escape.” He pulled out his dick and felt his slave’s hole close tight, not a single drop leaking out. He went to the cabinet and removed two items: a butt plug and a toothbrush. “Let’s make sure we fulfill your fantasy,” Mr. Miller said, holding the toothbrush out for Brian to see, knowing there would be no reaction. He shoved the bristled end into his slave’s ass and started scraping inside as hard as he could. Brian’s body shuddered, but he didn’t fight. This toothbrush was lucky, having been used on several men, all of whom converted. If it ain’t broke, Mr. Miller thought. After almost three minutes of constant brushing, Mr. Miller removed the brush and examined the bristles. Even under the red light, he could see blood.

“Perfect,” he said, placing the toothbrush on Brian’s stomach and shoving the butt plug inside his pussy. Just as with Mr. Miller’s dick, his slave put up a bit of a resistant fight. “This will keep my gift where it needs to be,” he said. “My cum is the most precious substance to you. It’s more precious than water or food to you. You crave my cum. Understand?”

His slave nodded.

“What you experienced tonight was loving,” Mr. Miller said. “You’ll see my brutality soon enough, so treasure these moments when you can. However, you’ll learn to love everything I do to you because all you crave is my attention.” He removed the gag from his slave’s mouth and threw it to the floor. “Open,” he said, grabbing Brian’s chin with one hand and the toothbrush in the other. Mr. Miller inserted the bristles into his slave’s mouth and started brushing his teeth. “What you’re tasting is the delicious delicacy of my poz cum and your blood. Enjoy it. You’ll be craving this flavor soon enough.”

Mr. Miller undid the restraints and helped his slave out of the sling. Brian was a bit unsteady on his feet, but he managed to stay upright as Mr. Miller went to the cabinet and retrieved a collar. It wasn’t one of the ones which was made of rough material, certified to make a slave bleed, but it was made of leather and was one of Mr. Miller’s favorites. He put it around Brian’s neck and pulled tight, watching as it pressed into the skin. His slave could still breathe, but it would cause him some discomfort.

“On all fours,” Mr. Miller commanded.

His slave complied, slowly moving down onto his hands and knees, the butt plug sticking out of his pussy.

“Follow me,” Mr. Miller said, turning and leaving the room.

Brian followed as quickly as he could, crawling on his hands and knees a new experience. He followed his Master down the hall to a door on which more locks were seen.

“This is where you will live from now on,” Mr. Miller said, opening the door to reveal wooden stairs leading down to the basement. “Since I’m a kind Master, I’ll allow you to walk down rather than crawl.”

Brian stood up and followed Mr. Miller downstairs where there was a room containing more slings, more benches, a mattress covered in stains, a crate, chains on the walls, and several television screens mounted in each corner. The air was cold, causing Brian’s nipples to harden and his cock to shrink.

“This is where you sleep,” Mr. Miller said, pointing to the crate. It was big enough to fit a person, but it would be a tight fit. “And to make sure that we keep you under my control,” he went to the televisions and turned them on, the same strobe effect and noise from the living room appearing on each screen. “Even while you’re asleep, the messages within the videos will enter your mind, changing it, poisoning it. There is no escaping my purpose. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” the slave said, his voice raspy.

Mr. Miller went to a chest in which he kept several items of apparel. The one he wanted was at the top since he had thrown it there only the day before. It was the jock strap he had worn every day to the gym for the past month. It was stained with sweat, piss, and cum. It reeked, but the odor made his cock hard.

“You will wear this,” he said, handing his slave the jock strap. “Anything I give you to wear will contain my scent. You will get high off of my stench. You will crave me more than life itself. Is this what you want, slave?”

“Yes, Master. It is all I want.” The slave took the jock strap and put it on, the pouch looking a bit odd with the cock cage inside.

“Get inside,” Mr. Miller said, opening the cage door.

Brian crawled back onto his hands and knees and entered the cage, his Master locking it behind him.

Mr. Miller left the basement, the lights turned off with the television screen still playing the video. Brian curled up on the floor of the cage, his eyes focused on the television screen, his body not only soaking in the subliminal messages from Mr. Miller but also his Master’s toxic cum.

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“How are you this morning, Andrew?” Matt called as he saw Mr. Miller walking down to his mailbox. Matt had been mowing, his face red with sweat dripping down. His shirt was soaked through. “Hot day, isn’t it.”

“Very,” Mr. Miller said. “How are things?”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Tracy is driving me crazy, just between you and me. Honestly, I’m relieved she’s going to visit her sister next week. I need a break.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mr. Miller said, hiding his desire to smile. He stepped closer to Matt and looked him straight in the eye. “Molotov.”

Matt’s face fell, a glazed look taking over. “Master.”

Mr. Miller had decided not to keep Matt under his constant control. That would create for him a ton of work and even more things to cover up with Matt’s bitch wife. Instead, his infiltration of Matt’s mind could be set off by the use of “Molotov.” Like a Molotov cocktail thrown into a building, Mr. Miller had entered Matt’s life and was destroying everything from the inside out. It hadn’t been hard to do. A tension already existed between Matt and his wife. All they needed was something to push them over the edge. If all went according to plan, Matt and Tracy would be getting divorced within the year, allowing Matt to become another slave.

Ruining their marriage was easy. One night Mr. Miller had invited both Matt and Tracy over for dinner. During their meal, he hypnotized them both. Nothing extreme. He simply instilled in their minds the instruction of not having sex anymore though blaming the other for the lack of fucking. Mr. Miller had already decided he was going to start fucking Matt, but he didn’t want to risk Tracy getting pozzed and starting a fiasco. Everyone would start asking questions. Instead, Tracy was left unaware of Matt’s poz status, that way there was no way for her to suspect Mr. Miller of ruining their lives. Plus, that would cut the risk of them having kids and causing their planned divorce to fall through.

Matt had no memories of the fuck sessions he had with Mr. Miller. Matt didn’t even know that he was poz like Mr. Miller, carrying his strain. Sure, there were moments the following day when he wondered why his ass was so sore. When he converted, there was a bit of fear as to why he was so sick. The little details were managed by Mr. Miller, his doctor friend taking care of appointments and tests, but it was all worth it. As Mr. Miller inspected the tranced Matt standing in front of him, he smiled, happy to have had such a wonderful neighbor move in next door.

“Matt,” Mr. Miller said, “when your wife leaves, you will come over to my house prepared to be fucked and to fuck. I have a surprise for you.”

“Thank you, Master,” Matt said.

“Have you been hiding your gym clothes from your wife like I commanded?”

“Yes, Master,” Matt said. “Their smell is strong.”

“Good,” Mr. Miller said. “I’m excited to smell them. For now, though, I’ll be taking your shirt.”

Without hesitating, Matt removed his sweaty shirt, revealing a hairy chest beneath and a slight belly below. Matt had clearly been fit when he was Brian’s age, but now, ten years down the road, he had fallen off the wagon of working out consistently. Mr. Miller had made sure he started again, his weight already having gone down slightly. More than anything, Mr. Miller wanted the man’s sweaty clothing. He didn’t care if he lost weight. A hot fucker is a hot fucker.

Mr. Miller hid Matt’s sweaty shirt behind his back and looked deep into Matt’s eyes. “Clover.”

Matt’s eyes fluttered, his expression first showing confusion and then a smile. “Sorry, Andrew,” he said. “My head wondered off there. What were you saying?”

“I just said congrats on your weight loss,” Mr. Miller said. “You’re looking good.”

“Thanks,” Matt said, looking down and noticing he was now shirtless. “I thought I’d worn a shirt out.”

“It’s too hot for a shirt,” Mr. Miller said.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Matt said, lifting an arm to wipe his forehead, revealing hairy, sweaty armpits. Mr. Miller had to stop himself from jumping his neighbor and burrowing his face deep. “Well,” Matt continued, “I’d better get back to mowing. See you soon.”

Mr. Miller returned inside and shoved his face into Matt’s shirt, inhaling deep the smell of the man’s musk. While he was a top and an alpha, Mr. Miller’s love for the smell of men couldn’t be helped. It had started back when he was a kid and he’d find his dad’s workout clothes in the hamper. He used to take them and cover his face with whatever he could find and jerk off. Some things don’t change.

He went to the basement and undid the locks, turning on the light. Walking down, he could see the televisions still playing. Brian was in his cage, curled up, his eyes closed. He approached the cage and looked down at his sleeping slave, admiring his smooth form. After taking in the sight, he pounded his fist down on the top, waking Brian.

“It’s morning, slave,” Mr. Miller said. He undid the cage’s lock and opened the door, watching as Brian gathered himself and crawled out. A combination of sleepiness and the trance caused him to faulter slightly, but Mr. Miller found it amusing. “Put this on,” he said, throwing Matt’s shirt to Brian.

“Thank you, Master,” Brian said, pulling the shirt on.

Seeing his slave wearing his used jockstrap and Matt’s sweaty shirt gave Mr. Miller a raging boner. “It’s time to inspect my work,” he said. “Climb onto the bench and lie on your back.”

Brian complied.

“Legs up.”

Brian lifted his legs, revealing the butt plug which was still firmly inside his ass.

Mr. Miller took a hold of the plug and pulled it out, his slave shuddering from the pain of having it so forcefully removed. Mr. Miller slipped his fingers into Brian’s hole and pulled it open, looking inside his pussy. Remnants of his cum could be seen along with blood. He had done a number on Brian’s hole. Damage had been done.

“Congrats, slave,” Mr. Miller said. “It looks like we made you bleed. Can’t say for sure, but I think I infect you with my poz cum last night. No chance of staying neg now.”

“Thank you, Master,” Brian said.

“But to be safe,” Mr. Miller said, “I think we should make another deposit.” He removed his clothing, revealing is rock hard cock. With the butt plug having been removed so recently, Brian’s pussy was slightly open, welcoming Mr. Miller’s cock. He lined up his dick and shoved inside, finding some resistance but nothing like the night before. “Fuck, I love your ass.” He leaned forward and pressed his face into Matt’s sweaty shirt, breathing deep, his head swimming from the smell. He pumped his hips, putting his weight on top of his slave, wrapping his arms around and holding his wrists. Fuck, I love my life, he thought, feeling Brian’s heart racing beneath him.

He pulled his dick out and walked over to the trunk in which he had stored his used jockstrap and pulled out a leash.

“Turn around on the bench,” he told his slave. “Chest on the bench. Straddle it. I’m fucking doggy style, as it were.”

Brian did as he was commanded and turned on his chest, his eyes catching sight of one of the televisions as he did so. His focus stayed on the screen as his master hooked the leash to the collar around his neck.

“I’m ready to breed you again,” Mr. Miller said, sliding his dick back inside his slave’s ass. He started his rhythm again, relishing the sound of skin hitting skin. He looked down and saw Brian’s balls resting on the bench, stretched out from his body having slipped out of the jockstrap. He wanted to stomp on them, to see his slave’s body contort from the pain, but he wouldn’t. Not yet, at least.

He pulled on the leash, bringing Brian’s head back, arching his back. He wrapped the leash around his wrist, making sure it was tight as he continued fucking hard into his slave’s ass. “Who’s the best fuck you’ve ever had?” Mr. Miller asked.

“You, Master.”

“Who’s dick do you worship?”

“Yours, Master.”

“Who’s cum do you live off of?”

“Your cum, Master.”

“And who will you serve for the rest of your life?”

“You, Master,” Brian said, eyes focused on the screen, his mind still diminishing from what he had been before.

“Fucking right,” Mr. Miller said, pulling back on the leash as he unleashed a load into his slave’s ass. His body shook with each pulse, a deep growl escaping his mouth. He pulled his dick from Brian’s ass and grabbed the plug, shoving it inside. There was fresh blood on his cock, meaning there were plenty of cuts to allow his virus to take over his slave’s body. “Clean me off,” Mr. Miller said, thrusting his hips out toward his slave.

Brian turned around on the bench and swallowed his master’s cock. While he would normally start to gag, deepthroating not being one of his specialties, the trance, along with removing his ability to scream, also controlled his gag reflex. He took his master’s cock down his throat, his tongue licking clean the cum from the night before, the fresh cum now swimming in his ass, and the blood which proved his life was no longer his own.

“That’s enough,” Mr. Miller said, pulling his dick out of Brian’s mouth. “Time to start more training.” He went to the trunk and pulled out a chain on which there was a leather clasp attached. “Take off the jockstrap,” Mr. Miller said. Once his slave had removed the jockstrap, he wrapped the leather clasp around Brian’s scrotum as tight as he could, the young man’s testicles stretched out on the other end. “Perfect fit,” Mr. Miller said. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”

Mr. Miller returned to the main floor and went to the room he had set aside as his weight room. He took four weights, all ranging in weight, and returned to the basement, waiting only a moment to stare out the window at Matt who was wandering around his yard, still shirtless.

“I said I was going to stretch out your balls,” Mr. Miller said, showing Brian the weights. “With the money I’ll be getting from selling your things, I’ll be able to buy some stretchers to really get you going. Fuck, just imaging you crawling on the floor, your balls dragging behind you, so easy for me to step on, it makes me hard. Still, it’ll be a while before we get you there. For now, a little torture is possible in the meantime. On the ground.”

Brian complied and crawled down onto the floor. Mr. Miller took the chain which was connected to Brian’s balls and latched it to one of the weights. He dropped it on the floor, watching as it pulled slightly on his slave’s scrotum.

“Now,” Mr. Miller said, taking hold of his hardening cock and massaging life back into it, “Crawl around and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

“Yes, Master,” Brian said, crawling forward only an inch before the weight pulled back on his balls, stopping him.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Mr. Miller said.

Brian moved forward, his balls pulling back toward the weight which didn’t want to move. Knowing he had to keep moving, Brian crawled forward, causing his balls to strain against the leather clasp. He couldn’t scream, but groans of pain escaped his mouth as he tried to move, but the weight’s hold on his balls wouldn’t let go. Face growing red, tears starting to form in his eyes, Brian leaned forward, mouth opening to scream a silent scream as the weight finally budged.

“Keep going,” Mr. Miller said. “Faster.”

Brian crawled forward again, the weight slowly moving. His balls were stretched back as much as they could go, the strain causing his scrotum to turn a reddish-purple, his testicles looking as if they would pop from the pressure forced upon them. Slowly, Brian moved three feet across the room, his arms and legs shaking from the pain.

“Slave,” Mr. Miller said, his eyes watching as the young man struggled to continue forward, “For this time, I want to hear you scream.”

As soon as Brian inched forward again, a painful cry of agony escaped his mouth. He cried again as he moved again, the weight still trying to remain behind as his balls pulled it forward.

Mr. Miller closed his eyes and listened as Brian’s cries filled the basement. He could feel another load swelling up in his own balls, knowing that his slave’s balls were being tortured.

Brian had almost reached the wall opposite the bench on which he had been fucked, his throat hoarse from screaming, when his master cried out himself.

“Fuck,” Mr. Miller shouted, one hand on his dick while the other twisted his nipple. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” Several ropes of cum shot out onto the floor, splattering. He opened his eyes and looked to Brian who was staring at the fresh cum. “Eat up,” Mr. Miller said. He left the weight attached to Brian’s balls and left the basement, listening as Brian’s cries filled the space as he tried to crawl back to where he started, hoping to lick up the cum his master had left behind.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

What else do you want to see? Let me know.

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On 6/17/2022 at 7:25 AM, blkcmslt said:

Yes another chapter please

Exciting to see another chapter. I have a few ideas to explore but I can't keep up with the story. I am only a chapter behind that was posted Sat June 18. 

I don't want to interrupt the story or make suggestions until I see how slave (formerly known as Brian) is USED and adjusted to his New Life.

Right now I am up to the slave tucked away downstairs in his cage with his Master's Poz cum in his ass with the butt plug to keep it all inside it's ass.

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Love it! I have never enough of good bdsm stories on here! You can only go harder and deeper from here, so more body modifications for our poor slave, more tortures, more pain. I think Miller is far more cruel ad sadist that we have seen so far😈. Since you are asking what do we wanna see, I'd say the slave doesn't need to be hypnotized anymore, so he is conscious and scared of what is happening to him, but he loves it too. And Matt is still a puppet mind controlled by Miller. Master could make him do crazy things to the poor slave, and since he is hypnotized he would agree to anything, while the slave cannot stop him as he screams in pain 😈😈

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Mr. Miller’s dick was starting to hurt after two days of constant fucking. It wasn’t until Monday morning when a knock on the door arrested his attention. He had just been planning to check on his slave when the guest knocked. Answering the door, he found Matt before him, his glazed look returned.

“Master,” Matt said, “my wife has left. I am here as you instructed.”

Mr. Miller smiled. “How long will she be gone?”

“Two days.”

“Plenty of time for what I have planned,” Mr. Miller said. “Go and get your used gym clothes and bring them here.”

“I also stole clothes from the gym like you told me.”

“Very good,” Mr. Miller said. “Have you pissed this morning?”

“No, Master.”

“Good. Don’t. And did you collect your cum like I told you to?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Bring that as well. You have five minutes.”

Mr. Miller went down into the basement, finding Brian on the floor, asleep, Matt’s sweaty shirt clinging to his own sweaty body. His testicles were pulled back, still attached to one of Mr. Miller’s weights. His scrotum was red, his testicles showing some swelling. The television screens were still playing until Mr. Miller opened the app and sent the screens to black.

“Wake up,” he said, crossing to his slave and slowly stepping down on his balls.

Brian jolted awake, Mr. Miller’s control taking over quickly after.

“Good morning, slave,” Mr. Miller said. “You’ve done well these past few days. I believe you’ll serve me well. I do want to try something new today. Undo the strap around your testicles and climb up into the sling.”

Brian did as he was commanded. As he stood up and crossed to the sling, Mr. Miller took notice of his balls which looked to be hanging lower than before. With his slave in the sling, Mr. Miller strapped his hands and ankles tight, doing so further up with his legs and arms. Once he was sure his slave was secure, Mr. Miller looked deep into Brian’s eyes.

“Awake.”

Brian gasped, the glazed look which had set in since Friday now gone. “What, what’s happening? Where am I?”

“It’ll take some time,” Mr. Miller said, reaching out and running his hands along his slave’s legs, “but you’ll soon remember.”

“What have you done to me?”

“I’ve given you what you wanted,” Mr. Miller said. “You said you wanted me to fuck you. I have. You said you wanted me to impregnate you. In a manner of speaking, I have. Everything you’ve wanted, I’ve given to you. I’ve also given you things you never knew you wanted. I’ve made your life simple. You live to serve me as my sex slave. You’ll never have to worry about making a decision again.”

“But,” Brian said, his memories of the last few days returning, “What about my life? What about what I want?”

“I’ve given you what you want,” Mr. Miller said. “I’ve blessed you with dozens of my poz loads. Soon, a part of me will be within you forever. I was planning on keeping you under my control forever, but I think I’ll allow you to regain some awareness. You still can’t run away. I won’t release you that easily. You also can’t hurt me. But I want to see you accept this fate. The brainwashing I’ve set within your mind will continue to break you down. Soon, I won’t have to put you under any trance. You’ll want to stay because whatever part of you that could resist me will be gone.”

“Master,” Matt said, the man standing in the doorway of the basement.

“Perfect,” Mr. Miller said. “You see, Brian, this is Matt. He is a man who I have under a trance, but only when I see fit. What I plan to do to him, to remove his will slowly, I am doing with you this summer. I’m giving Matt more time, though I’ve already pozzed him, making his loads toxic. Isn’t that right, Matt?”

“Yes, Master,” Matt said, entering the basement. In his hands he carried a duffle bag and a thermos.

“Place the bag on the ground,” Mr. Miller said. “Today, Brian, I am giving my dick a break. We’ve been fucking constantly, and, as you’ve noticed as I’ve sat here watching you pull the weight around by you balls, I like to watch every now and then. Matt here, another of my toxic slaves, will fuck you, unloading his toxic cum in your hole.”

“I don’t want—”

“Quiet,” Mr. Miller said.

Brian’s mouth closed instantly, his eyes looking pleadingly.

“Matt will fuck you, contribute his loads, helping ensure that you will be poz. There’s no doubt that you will be. I’m highly potent, as is Matt. But first, Matt here hasn’t had the chance to piss yet this morning, and I’d hate to have a strong bladder-full of piss go to waste. Brian, you will open your mouth and drink down Matt’s piss. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Matt said, walking to Brian’s head. Brian struggled slightly against his restraints, but as soon as Matt was next to him, his mouth opened. Matt pulled down his pants, revealing a cock that was slightly shorter than Brian’s but significantly thicker. It looked to be the same girth of a soda can, covered in veins. On his cock there was a tattoo, that of a biohazard symbol and the initials A. M. in the center.

“Drink up,” Mr. Miller said, opening the duffle bag and pulling out several pairs of clothing, dropping them on the floor.

Matt grabbed Brian’s hair and pulled his head down to his dick, unleashing a thick stream of golden piss into the slave’s mouth. Brian’s eyes widened as the liquid cascaded across this tongue, the pungent smell permeating the air. Even though he didn’t want Matt’s piss in his mouth, he started to swallow, just as Mr. Miller had ordered.

Meanwhile, Mr. Miller sorted through the clothing, finding several pairs of jock straps, a few pairs of briefs, shirts, and socks. One of the briefs sported a streak of brown on the ass while one of the jock straps was discolored yellow from years of stains. The jock strap Mr. Miller pulled up to his face and breathed deep, taking in the smell of unwashed months, piss, cum, and sweat attached to the fabric and sporting the odor of man. The smell alone got him hard. He looked across the basement to where Matt was still feeding Brian his piss, the young slave desperately swallowing to keep up, making his erection even firmer.

“I’m done, Master,” Matt said, turning to Mr. Miller, small drops of piss dripping to the floor.

“How did that taste, slave?” Mr. Miller asked, eyeing Brian who was shuddering as he swallowed the remaining piss in his mouth.

“Bitter,” Brian said.

“The taste of piss is something else you’ll soon crave,” Mr. Miller said. “You’ll want it more than water. Do you have to piss?”

Brian nodded.

“Matt, drink Brian’s piss.”

“Yes, Master.” Matt circled around to Brian’s caged cock, lowering his mouth over the cage as piss splashed out, running down over Brian’s body. Matt slurped up the piss as well as he could, his hand reaching down below Brian where he caught extra drops which he brought to his mouth.

Mr. Miller pulled on the briefs which had the stain on the back and brought the stained jock strap over to Matt who was finishing his drink. “Is this yours?” he asked Matt.

“No, Master.”

“Who does it belong to?”

“A man named Wes Little, Master.”

“The police chief,” Mr. Miller said, examining the jock again. “I wonder if he likes wearing a stained jock? Maybe, it’s communal for all his officers.” He ran his tongue alone the crotch, savoring the flavor. “Get me more of Chief Little’s clothing for the future.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And is that your cum?” Mr. miller asked, nodding down at the thermos.

“Yes, Master.”

“How many loads?”

“Twenty-three.”

Mr. Miller took the thermos and opened it up, breathing deep the scent of stale loads. “Just think, Matt, if it hadn’t been for me, all of this probably could have been used to make a person. A person you’d have to raise with your bitch wife instead of letting yourself fuck hundreds of people, no cares in the world. It’s a good thing I found you when I did. Now, all you have to do is do exactly what I tell you.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And what I’m telling you,” Mr. Miller said, drinking a large gulp of cum from the thermos, “is to fuck Brian’s brains out.”

Brian tried to escape the sling, but the restraints kept him secure.

“I don’t want my brains fucked out,” Brian shouted.

“Too late,” Mr. Miller said. “I’m in your mind. I’m slowly wearing down your defenses against me. Soon, you will serve me without the need of a trance. Just wait and see.”

Matt spit into his hand and rubbed it over his dick, lining it up to Brian’s hole. He grabbed Brian’s legs to stop the his moving and shoved his dick inside. Even with Mr. Miller’s constant fucking and the use of the butt plug, the girth of Matt’s dick proved to be too large, sending Brian into a blinding pain.

“FUCK!” he shouted, head tilted back, his body trying to move away from Matt’s intrusion, without success.

“Everyone talks about wanting a big dick,” Mr. Miller said, drinking more of Matt’s cum from the thermos. “But they only ever mean long. Sure, I love a long dick, 8, 9, 10 inches. But a thick cock, one that fills you up, opens you wide, that’s a different experience. It tears you open. That’s what Matt’s dick is meant to do. It’s meant to tear open holes and infect the ruined pussies with toxic cum.”

Matt’s thrusting had increased, a steady motion breaking Brian’s pussy now sending both waves of pain and pleasure throughout the slave’s body. Matt’s dick was pressed against Brian’s prostate, a constant feeling of pleasure spreading throughout his restrained limbs. His caged cock tried to break free from the cage, but it was no use.

“Once Matt is divorced from his wife,” Mr. Miller said, finishing the thermos of cum, “I’ll have him sleeping with as many men as possible, ruining their holes, filling them with toxic cum. Imagine every man being pozzed.”

Matt’s grip tightened around Brian’s legs, sweat pouring down his face, his chest hair slick. Mr. Miller approached, standing behind Matt, kissing his neck, tasting the sweat. He wrapped his arms around the man’s body and ran his hands through Matt’s body hair. While he loved Brian being smooth, Matt was the type of man you didn’t want to see hairless. His hair intensified his sexiness. Mr. Miller looked down at Matt’s cock as it entered and left Brian’s pussy, the tattoo seen between thrusts.

“What a beautiful cock,” Mr. Miller said. “Who does that cock belong to, Matt?”

“It belongs to you, Master,” Matt said, his breathing labored. “I belong to you.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Miller said, his eyes now looking at Brian who was looking up at the ceiling, his own body covered in sweat. “Matt knows who is in charge. Matt knows who he serves. How about you, slave? Who does your cock belong to?”

Brian looked down at his caged cock, anger and acceptance in his eyes. “You.”

“I’m sorry?” Mr. Miller said.

“You,” Brian said, the word an effort to say. “Master.”

Mr. Miller smiled, grabbing Matt’s face which he turned and started kissing. Matt continued fucking Brian’s pussy, blood covering his dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” Matt said, his eyes focused on Mr. Miller. “May I cum, Master?”

“You may,” Mr. Miller said, his arms around Matt’s body, one over his heart, the other reaching down to his dick. “Fill him up with our strain.”

Matt burrowed his dick deep inside Brian’s pussy, hands squeezing tight on Brian’s legs as his body shook. Mr. Miller could feel Matt’s heart racing while everything around his dick pulsed with each squirt of the toxic load.

Brian’s breathing was strained, his chest heaving, cock straining for release.

“I’m cumming,” Brian whimpered, eyes focused on his restrained dick. “I need to cum.”

“Do it,” Mr. Miller said. He reached down and grabbed Brian’s swollen testicles and pulled them hard. “Matt, put these in your mouth.”

Matt pulled his dick from Brian’s pussy, pink cum pouring out, splattering on the floor. Mr. Miller held Brian’s balls steady as Matt sucked them into his mouth, fitting both inside.

“Bight down a little,” Mr. Miller said, watching as Brian’s face contorted, his body trying to release his load but Matt’s hold on his testicles along with the damage done keeping him from cumming. “Cum, slave. I want you to cum!”

“Yes, Master,” Brian cried, eyes closing as spurts of cum shot out of the cock cage. The pain was clear on his face, but so was the pleasure. What Mr. Miller had noticed instantly was the fact that Brian had called him Master without being under a trance. Already the young man’s mind belonged to Mr. Miller.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

What kind of body mods are people thinking? 

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