Night Out with My Jeff

By fetishguy

Published on Jul 29, 2005

Gay

This story is generalized fiction with elements of real scenes included.

Contains strong references to incest, ws, authoritarian behavior. DO NOT READ if you are not permitted to read such material. Constructive comments appreciated to leathernvanillany@yahoo.com. FLAMES will be IGNORED.

I stand before my three-man panel, on trial for my life. I stand naked, literally, my soul bared to these men, with the threat of death before me or life servitude to Jeff for my severe abuse of him as my former father, former slave. That I had come to my former friend and now co-master Chad's dungeon/mansion to learn to be a master seems like a sick joke. I had rightfully and senselessly had these ideas beaten out of me over a long period of time by gay men much wiser than me. Now they would decide my fate, whether I will literally live to serve Chad and Jeff for life, or whether, because of my severe arrogance, my miserable life will be ended tomorrow when the verdict is in.

As my trial begins, I am manacled to a leg spreader, my arms chained to a set of rings overhead. My shaved balls hang low under five pounds of weights, under a cutting leather cock parachute. A chain tautly connects my pierced nipples and PA cockhead. A butt plug fills my asshole and is strapped in by buckles. Depriving my senses, and my ability to understand the words deciding my fate, are thick ear plugs underneath a rubber hood with nose and a small mouth holes only. Eye patches are removed at various times. My mouth is filled with a piss gag extending from a piss funnel. I am being fed currently with cold, stale, day-old piss, dripped into my mouth by a worker slave at Chad's dungeon.

I had once detested stale piss, as I had detested many things in my six-month training since being uncovered by Lord Chad and Master Jeff. Now I suckle the stale piss, knowing it comes from either Lord Chad, Master Jeff, or both.

Lord Chad and Master Jeff, and now their apprentice Sir Cole had made me spend the last six months undoing my many pretenses, my many foolish thoughts of being a master.

I stood in shame before them, and in extreme fear, because although my genital and anal areas had been kept shaved, my hair had been allowed to grow to beyond shoulder length while everyone else was buzz cut or clean shaven. Also, my beard was scruffy, which bothered me. I did not care for myself, but for my owners I was an embarrassment, a hairy, matted, unkempt object amidst beautiful, toned, hairless, buffed bodies, including Master Jeff. Did my owners not care how I looked? Was this a sign of their decision? Had I passed the many tests of being a good dog slave to which I had been submitted only to fail the trial, to fall short of making good for my deep transgressions?

Was I going to die tomorrow when the verdict came through?

As the trial went on in the main dungeon room that day, my thoughts wandered to my new life and if it would end here. The brutality they had shown me in my retraining was harsh and what I wanted. Chad first noted it when he raped me at gunpoint during my first few days on my "exploratory" visit here that never ended. He knew before we had even begun the trip that I was cut out for a life of a bottom and that being a top was just a fucking joke that I had tried to pull on myself, others, and Jeff.

Master Chad knew that I what I really wanted was to be a bottom, and that I had what it took to be the roughest, harshest, nastiest pig/dog bottom. It was talent that had to be exploited.

Gone was my identity: my job, my career, my name. I was no longer Billy Boyce, aspiring physicist, I was boi and that tatoo Chad had planted on my right butt cheek on my first day here was competed to read "Born to be...boi."

Standing before the tribunal, I thought back to the six-month retraining, the harsh brutality I had learned to endure, tolerate, and then embrace as me.

I had lost the gym-toned body, down from my 6'2", 195 lb. muscled frame to maybe 155 lbs. of scrawn. My diet was lab animal food, nutritionaly correct, but totally bland. For liquid, I was given regular amounts of tepid water.

I had spent most of my days shackled in a modified standing cage with spikes to keep me immobilized or layed flat in a dog cage, hideously double- and triple-hooked to the cage's rungs and sometimes encased in skin-tight rubber, or some nights simply shackled on all-fours for complete immobilization.

I drank piss morning, noon, and night. At one point, Master Chad installed a public-bathroom type urinal, without a flushing mechanism. The piping at the bottom was simply attached to a rubber tube, and then to a piss gag...and into my rubber hooded mouth. At parties, everyone--tops and bottoms, all friends of Sir Chad and Master Jeff--pounded away beers and pissed in me as the human urinal endlessly into the night. I came to savor every drop of their urine, particularly when two or three pissed at the same time, challenging me to chug it all down. Of course, overflow would run down my rubber suit, but if any came out my mouth, I was immediately stripped and whipped.

I was flogged ritually, too and unmercifully, until I begged for more because I came to crave it. Both Lord Chad and Master Jeff preferred over time to lead me to the saw horse, where they would lash me from completely, starting out slowly and finishing with hard, punishing blows that cracked in the air before meeting my skin. A sexual tension always resulted that set the perfect scene for a fucking, which always seemed a relief following a body thrashing.

I became a total piss bottom: showering and bathing in piss either naked or in my skin-tight rubber body suit, which my owners had purchased for their pleasure, and which encased my cock in its own rubber codpiece. They often fondled it, torturing me further while I lay bound and helpless, drenched in a tub of piss.

I had crossed mental boundaries I'd never thought possible during my training.

Most memorable was the night Lord Chad had returned from work in his conservative scientist clothes to visit me in the dungeon.

"We have a special training tonight, boi. It starts right away. Master Jeff, will get everything ready and oversee the proceedings."

Master Jeff unshackled me and led me by my slave collar to an area on the floor in the dungeon. He fastened chains connecting my nipple rings and PA.

Then he deftly tied rope around my balls and attached that rope to the chains connecting my body rings. He made sure they were all connected tightly, pulling them as I winced. He then pulled out a hood that must have just arrived from the mail, a special rubber hood that he pulled over my head. He made some adjustments and quickly there were two rubber tubes extending from the side of the hood inserted into my nostrils.

"You'll be glad for this, boi, believe, me. Now sit your ass on the floor and lie down."

I did exactly as I was told as Master Jeff inserted an object into the side of the hood. He connected the rings on the side of the hood to the complimentary rings that had been dug into the concrete floor to follow the contour of a human face.

I was now immobilized on the floor by my head--and now ankles were being shackled to D rings as well.

Prone on the concrete floor, my ass against the cold floor, I saw the familiar sight of Lord Chad, in his awesome studded codpiece, boots, and tonight for the first time, a gauntlet on his right forearm. He wore his half-executioner's hood and chatted a bit with Master Jeff, who, too, was wearing his half-executioner's hood and chaps to show off his beautiful cock and ass, which I had eaten out many times during retraining.

Lord Chad sat next to me with a box.

"Boi," as he opened the large, flat package, "this is a rim seat. Tonight, with the help of Master Jeff, and the poppers delivery hood sending some relief up your nose, you're going to learn how to eat shit. Your going to learn it and how to love it. Once you learn to eat my shit, you will eat Master Jeff's, then anyone's I deem worthy of lending you to. Let's begin."

I trembled, but I had no time to think. Within seconds the rim seat, the toilet seat without a bowl, the toilet seat with me as a bowl, was in place. Lord Jeff's beautiful, smooth ass was in place, over my immobilized, rubberized face. My lips met his ass lips. I sucked automatically, naturally.

"Suck deep, boi."

Then it came. A fart in my mouth. Shocking. I gagged.

"Get used to it, boi. Sniff some more. Stick that tongue up there."

As I sniffed and stuck my tongue, there was my first taste of turd--a hard, small log. I thought of the patterns of my shits. That was how they often happened.

Suddenly the small log slipped from Lord Chad's ass, from his sphincter and entered my mouth. Then another.

"You got things there, boi. Eat them, now!"

I hesitated. Then a harsh tug at my nipple, PA, and balls. I gulped.

I'd swallowed my first shit.

"That's a good boi. You're a cowboy now. Take a swig."

At that a blast of poppers entered both my nostrils, sending me into bliss. But as I took off, there came another sudden jolt at my piercings and balls, forcing my mouth open. Lord Chad knew to seize the moment. He made a perfect seal with his ass and my mouth.

And now the first full log of shit entered my mouth. Acrid and sweet at the same time, it filled my mouth.

"Suck it, chew it, swallow," ordered Lord Chad. Buzzed by the powerful poppers, I indulged in the intimate taste.

Lord Chad held back until I had taken in his first full log; he then delivered me another hit of poppers and grunted another full inch of shit into my now willing mouth. I masticated this new sensation, swallowing at every chance.

I could tell he had more shit left, but he let me go with this first session. Master Jeff, videotaping all for training purposes, came by to clean me up, shoving the extra excrement down my willing mouth.

I simply owed my life to Lord Chad and Master Jeff for rescuing me from a delusional life of mediocrity and showing me my capabilities. I would never have accepted the challenges they presented to me, nor without their encouragement and stinging, persistent and painful whippings, have overcome my resistance to the new world of being an insatiable, non-resistant piss drinker, ass-eater, and shit-eater.

They've also introduced me to long-term confinement, fisting, and the use of medical sounds to get my dick fucked.

Each practice took time and I only hope, serenely, that I have shown enough promise that they will extend my life so that I can continue to serve them....

THE VERDICT

Day two of the trial was moved outside into the beautiful sunlight, by the pool. I had not been in the outdoors since arriving here by captivity by gunpoint that day so long and far ago. Now Lord Chad, Master Jeff, and their apprentice Sir Cole were going to pass sentence after deliberating all night.

They had mercifully cleaned me up: shaved me from head to toe, eyebrows included. Suddenly from the house came a bunch of the most stunning young, athletic gay guys, dressed in see-through white speedos. These beefy guys were invited to help the judges make me perform a final series of demonstrations because the judges were deadlocked. They wanted me to prove myself again, one final time.

The speedo boys were a gay fraternity from a nearby college and they were ready for an orgy. First I had to watch these stunning studs fondle each other. Torture number one. Then I was to rim and suck to orgasm at least ten cocks. Then I needed to drink the piss of five of these boys completely without spilling a drop.

There's nothing so erotic, so sexual as a man's ass and I dove in as these studs dropped their speedos in front of me and opened their beautiful gay male asses to me. I licked around the buttocks, tantalizingly, and then worked my tongue slowly into their holes, more and more deeply, until I had begun a tongue-fucking rhythm with their assholes.

One by one they reported their satisfaction to each other and I had reached my quoted of eating out gorgeous asses.

Coaxing five boys to piss into my mouth took longer, but about an hour later that too had been accomplished. Obviously the boys had never done this, judging by the look of wonder and astonishment on their faces as I became their personal urinal and drained them. A few more naked gay boys wanted to participated, but I had to beg off. The rim seat awaited.

Lord Chad announced the stakes as I placed my head under the rim seat. No poppers, no restraints, no help of any kind. A full mouthful of shit from a stranger, consumed without hesitation--this was the final test.

For the longest time, there was no taker. I waited in the heat for what seemed at least 30 minutes, sweating profusely. Lord Chad gave me a cool drink. Stale piss. Everyone else drank beers.

Finally, a guy I would come to know as slave Dale, peeled off his speedos and nervously steeped forward. As the group stood around, he squatted. He had a load ready to go.

"We have a taker," said Lord Chad. "This is the final test for our trial of boi. Let us watch this important test of strength and determination."

I prayed it would be simple and it went better than I thought, just as with Lord Chad. A blast of fart. Small hard turns that I swallowed quickly. Then quickly large, pungent, foul logs. I chewed for my life. I swallowed. He kept shitting. I kept chewing and swallowing. I kept going. I knew I must swallow. I gagged.

Finally the tide ended. But I knew I had to clean his ass and leave it clean. I begged he wouldn't leave. I reached up and held his thighs. He stayed. I licked for dear life. Clean, finally.

Lord Chad, Master Jeff, and Sir Cole conferred as they pulled away the rim seat.

I lay there under the rim seat for at least an hour. Lord Chad, Master Jeff, and Sir Cole chatted with each other and the guests. They laughed, partied, drank, ate, and humiliated me by making me remain under the rim seat, awaiting my fate. One of the speedo boys came by and poured a beer over my body, and left a drop for me to drink. Another few did a circle jerk around me after they peeled off their speedos, drenching me in their cum, spattering my face.

Finally there was a decision.

"Boi," pronounced Sir Cole, "you have barely satisfied us. By 2-1 we vote to extend your life for one year. You will be reexamined at that point."

"Since you have not orgasmed in six months, let this young man, this Dale, suck you off, right now and eat your cum."

I embraced Dale's firm body wildly, grabbing madly his ass from which I had just eaten his shit. He fondled my shaved balls and seem to have a great affection and admiration for what I had endured. He stood behind me, and knowing my rhythm and using the cum from the others as lube, masturbated me. I exploded in seconds. He cupped my jism and swallowed it whole.

"Now," commanded Lord Chad, "boi, you will return to chastity for one year. Give me the special Chastity cock holder," he nodded to Master Jeff.

As I was held, Lord Chad took the shiny metal device and slipped my cock into a cylindrical stainless steel tube, providing complete imprisonment for my cock. Just the very tip of my dick showed, to allow for pissing. Lord Chad snapped the hand-cuff-like holding device and locked it completely shut with a key.

"Your life is saved. But by this day, you serve us for the rest of your life, however long we decide it to last, boi."

Lord Chad nodded to Master Jeff, who picked up the gun used to abduct me and rape me many times. For the first time. Master Jeff ran the cold hard metal against my naked, smooth skin, brushing against my nipple rings, against my new steel cock, my exposed balls, placing the gunhead into my mouth with a laugh, then lubing it and working it into my ass.

"You're a fucking piece of shit. Get out of my sight," said Master Jeff as he ambled over to Lord Chad. For the first time I witnessed them kissing. Lord Chad pulled out his massive cock and as I was restrained, the two made out right in front of me like long time lovers. It was the first test of torture for my new cock enclosure: my dick swelled with envy. I tried desperately not to look as my former dad and lover serviced and was fucked by my former best, trusted friend and co-worker. I could tell that mental torture was now to be added to my ritual of physical abuse.

My new friend, Dale, came over after Lord Chad and Master Jeff had finished and gone inside the house. Dale deep kissed me, not knowing what he was risking. I could not resist and could not tell him of the danger. He gently sucked on my naked form, stopping to suck on my nipple rings and then on my dick, now encased in stainless steel with a slight opening for a tantalizing, torturous opening for my cockhead and PA. He furiously sucked on the new cock that he had just brought to orgasm, as if he could magically undo its new fate.

For his actions, being witnessed by his buddies from school and Lord Chad and Master Jeff inside, Dale would not be leaving this party nor returning to school. By the evening he too would be a slave with a new identity. He would have pierced nipples, a slave collar, and a steel chastity casing on his dick to prevent an organism for a long, long time. He was only 18 and he would now be a sexless bunkmate of mine in the world of worshipping gay male sexuality.


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate