SEVENTEEN
present time, still a brothel slave . . .
Life in the brothel went on and I never forgot that I was where Clarence wanted me to be, always being used, abused, disciplined and trained to become the slave that Clarence wanted me to be. I always ached for him when he wasn't standing over me. I always dreamed of the day when he would take me away from this place. At one point I realized I'd never be allowed to return to my former job, and that was fine for me.
I got used to being kept by the establishment. So I remained locked up here, collared, manacled and usually groveling while waiting for the next man to come to make use of me.
Clarence started coming by more frequently, taking away the ache in my soul and replacing it with peace and joy and the type of experience that felt more like love than like slavery. He never ceased telling me how pleased he was with me, how happy I made him and how much pleasure it gave him when he learned of how a client would reduce me to the type of slimeball pig Clarence wanted me to be when I wasn't with him.
I'd suck, and lick, and crawl, and drink and willingly offer my body up to the lash or the cane or the punching that would leave me sore longer than any form of corporal punishment. I was a urinal. I was a cunt. I was a punching bag, a pig, a mindless cocksucker and word spread about how completely abased and degraded I was and how even the most cruel man would find himself totally satisfied before he left me collapsed onto the floor sobbing and thanking him for what he had done to me. And then Clarence would return and there would be no pain at all but only joy and I realized how utterly I belonged to him and how nothing else in my life would ever matter any longer.
My old life was completely forgotten, my work, my home—which had been turned over to Matt, lock, stock and barrel. I was completely dispossessed of any right of ownership and Clarence helped me realize I was no longer burdened with the stress that ordinary men carried around because Clarence had relieved me of all that.
How could subjugation, pain, and debasement exist along with the most incredible joyful love all at the same time? I didn't know. All I knew was that Clarence loved me and Clarence kept me here imprisoned in this whorehouse because it was the best way he could help me experience both the agony and the ecstasy of my existence. He taught me that the love we shared could not possibly exist without its opposite.
He taught me that he was always with me. He was there with me when I was gulping down the piss of the stranger who had just beaten me senseless. He was there with me when I passed out because a superior man had cut off my air supply while he was raving my cunt with his hard cock. He was there when I was covered with welts and spittle and cum and piss and locked in a cage so confining that I could barely move. He was there when the skin of my ass helped pay the expenses of the brothel that enslaved me. And when he was actually with me, all memory of the horrors of my other life were forgotten because his touch and his kisses filled me with the most exquisite pleasure anyone has ever experienced.
I was nothing. It was all Clarence. And although few people would ever be able to understand how this could be true, he was all I ever wanted and all I ever needed and it made all of my humble service to others make more sense than anything I had ever experienced any other way.
My life was complete. And that is how things would always remain until Clarence would one day hold my hand and my heart as I breathed my last breath and at last could become totally one with him for all time. And this was not only the end of my story, it was also the beginning.
Clarence finally took me from that place and brought me to his home in a secluded area. And he loved me. And never again did I ever have to serve another man, for now I belonged to him. And his love for me altered my understanding of who I was and what I was meant to be. I belonged to Clarence and Clarence loved me and that love ushered in a new era in my life.
Clarence encouraged me to finish writing my story. Once I had finished, he gently took the pen from my hand, closed the book, and told me that others would read my story and it would help them figure out their own lives. That, he said, was the greatest way I would ever be able to serve men I would never get to know. After that, he showed me wonderful things, more wonderful than I ever would have imagined I could enjoy. And he told me that nothing at all would ever give him as much joy as I gave him, simply by loving him and by being happy, never having to search for anything again.
And so now there is nothing left for me to say.
THE END OF THE STORY
Now that this story is finished, please write me and let me know what you think of it. subkodak25@gmail.com
My next story is entitled "Jonah Takes Charge" and I'll start posting it soon. Look for it
And please make a donation to nifty: donate@nifty.org
Here are the other stories I have posted, with the dates where you can find them:
The first five should be read in order:
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
These stories are stand-alone
Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 Training Toby 12/31/2023 Breaking Me In 03/10/2024