In moments, I lost all sense of time. I couldn't hear anything, I couldn't see anything, and all I could feel was myself. The drawer seemed to be lined with deeply padded leather. The temperature was neutral, not too hot or too cold.
I went off to my hike in the mountains, and got lost in the illusions of my mind. My last real thought was could I handle a year of things like this, or would I come out a sniveling idiot?
I was walking along the trail and I slipped and slid down the slope to the bottom of the hill and realized that more of the slope was coming down on me. I lay there in horror, trying to clamor out of the way.
The talus rained down and trapped me under more and more rubble. I just had a small space to breathe and felt that space shrinking. I started screaming. I tried to dig my way out. My arms were weighted down. I couldn't move them.
I started thrashing back and forth trying to free myself. I was yelling, "Help me!" at the top of my lungs. My breath was getting more rapid and I knew I was going to lose all my oxygen and pass out soon.
My heart was pounding. No one knew where I was. I would be buried here and no one would find me! I was really panicking and desperately wanted to get free.
I woke sweating and thrashing in the confined space. I realized where I was and tried to calm myself, but my dream was so vivid. My heart was still racing.
I had no idea how long I had been in here. I had no way of knowing. I didn't know if it was an hour or a day. I moved a bit and found a bit more comfortable position. I was drenched in sweat. As it dried on me, I shivered.
I tried calming breaths, and it seemed to work. I didn't want to go back to my mountain hiking images. The rock fall was too fresh in my mind.
I shivered again and reassessed my situation, both at the moment and in my new life. I had to admit that the humiliation, control, exhibitionism, and all was turning me on wildly. And, as much as I thought it was crazy, I did find myself getting turned on by giving pleasure to Sir, even if it was through pain.
He told me that I would soon find that pain was a turn on for me as well. And I would begin to get pleasure from it. I wondered how that could be true. Would my cock get hard from having bengay applied?
That seemed to be the worst so far concerning punishment. The strapping seemed to be intermittent and controllable. But with the bengay, once it was on, there was nothing he or I could do to change what was going to happen.
It would run its course and the burning seemed to be based on location and the amount spread. I shivered again, recalling the pain of this crème. It truly did feel that the flesh was blistering and being destroyed. It made me want to obey all the more, so that I would not have to experience that again.
I was broken out of my contemplation by a click and then the drawer rolling open. The light and sights were overwhelming. It made them all the more precious after the time in the drawer.
Sir reached down and helped me up. He steadied me until I could stand. "Good boy," he said, as he had me walk around the room.
"You will be going to see Trevor soon, for your exercises for the day. But I want to demonstrate something to you, boy." He sat on a stool and told me to stand in front of him.
He used a pair of scissors to snip the plastic tie holding my device closed. Then he roughly removed the cage, causing me to sharply inhale.
He took my dick in his hands and began to manipulate it. He looked up at my face to see my reactions, and I averted my eyes. But his work was causing my dick to rise.
It still got to me that I could stand there and let a man play with my cock and balls. He used one hand to roll my balls around and one to stroke my cock to attention.
I shivered at the touch, now that I was hard. I wondered if he was going to let me cum.
He stroked my dick a couple of times and looked up at me again. I caught his face and he was smiling; then I averted my eyes again.
My dick was now stretched out to the maximum and craving his attention. He then handed me a tube and said, "Take just a dab of this, boy."
I looked at the tube and saw the words on the side of the tube, `Bengay', and felt my hole clenched in fear. He continued to play with my dick, so it didn't go down.
I squeezed out just a bit of it. He said, "That's good, boy."
He squeezed my dick tightly and I sighed. "Now, listen carefully, boy. I want you to take that and spread it below the head of your dick, but don't get any on the head at all."
He couldn't be asking me to put this on myself! But he didn't say anything else. I held onto the head of my dick and rubbed the dab around the shaft below the head. My finger was shaking as I did it. I was afraid to put it on and I was afraid I would hit the head.
"Good job, boy," he said, and sounded sincere. That pleased me. "Now we wait just a bit, boy." He cupped my nuts in his hand and waited. I was afraid of the sensations that would come.
"Beginning to warm up, boy?" he asked, as he rolled my balls around in his hand.
"Yes, Sir," I said. I almost rose up on my toes, as if doing so would move me away from the heat. Of course, it wouldn't.
I felt the heat building. It didn't rip through me like it had earlier.
"Feel the heat, boy," he said in a calm voice.
"Let it increase your sensations, boy," he continued in the same even voice. "Let it build in your dick, boy, just like the friction of your hand, boy."
The heat was there but not as intense as before. And I got what he was saying. He lightly stroked my cock. This seemed to stimulate the cream and cause the heat to increase a bit, but it also got me more on edge.
"Feels good now, boy, doesn't it." He was rolling my balls and slowly moving up and down my shaft.
The heat increased but it was now a bit more tolerable. I moaned and then quickly said, "Yes, Sir."
He continued in this manner for the next several minutes. He had me on edge the entire time. Not enough stimulation to make me cum, but enough to keep me close. My emotions fought between the pain and the pleasure.
A pearl of precum formed at the head of my dick and slowly drooled down the side.
"The heat is going down now, boy." He must know how long the sensations lasted, because again he was correct. Now my cock was aching for release.
"See, now the pain and pleasure mixed, boy?" he said, as he massaged my balls and gently stroked me.
"Yes, Sir," I said breathlessly.
He removed his hands and said, "Take your balls in your left hand, boy."
I did and he had me tighten my sack until the balls were shiny at the end of it and perfectly outlined.
"Now, when I tell you to, boy, I want you to flick first the right ball and then the left ball, one right after the other." He demonstrated, flicking his middle finger off of his thumb. "I want you to do it with as much force as you can muster, boy. You remember doing this the other day, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," I said, knowing how much it had hurt the last time he had me do it.
"One, right after the other. Now, boy," he said, and looked intently at my balls.
I took a breath and flicked one and immediately the other, and doubled over from the pain that rushed from my balls to my gut and back. I moaned.
"Stand up straight, boy," he instructed, and I stood up from my bent over pose. "Let it flow through you, boy."
"Yes, Sir," I said, still not believing that I would do these things to myself.
He took my balls from me then and began manhandling them to get the ring back over them. I winched at the residual pain, but he didn't seem to care. "Nice and manageable now, boy."
He proceeded to work the cage back into place and cinched it closed with another plastic tie. When he was done, he patted it and smiled.
"See, boy, you have applied Bengay to yourself and once again you have inflicted pain on yourself."
He looked up at me again and said, "And you felt a bit of how pain can be pleasure, boy. Didn't you?"
"Yes, Sir," I said.
He stood and swatted me on the ass. "Okay, off with you boy to Trevor in the exercise room. He will take you through your paces, boy."
"Yes, Sir," I said, and headed upstairs and to the exercise room. Trevor entered just after I did. I didn't know how he knew I would be showing up, but he was relentless in putting me through my routine.
He always demanded more. When I was sure I couldn't lift one more time, he would tell me, "Five more."
I was drenched with sweat when I was finished. He had me walk around a bit to shake my arms and legs and then took me out back. He used the hose to spray me off. It was a sunny day, but the water was still cold when it hit.
When he finished, he tossed me a wash cloth-sized towel and told me to dry off. I happened to look up to the house and saw a figure behind one of the curtains and was sure they were watching me. I felt my ears heat up.
My hairless crotch seemed so white and bare. I wondered when I would be getting some sun to even out the faint tan lines.
Trevor took me in and left me in the kitchen. Mrs. H, placed a bowl of what looked like dog food in front of me. There was no spoon or anything. She placed a glass of water on the table, but it had one of those children's sippy cup tops.
She stood by the table, waiting for me to start eating I guess. I felt humiliated once again, sitting there naked with this cage over my cock. I picked up a chunk of the food and put it in my mouth. It was edible, but I couldn't figure out what it tasted like. I still had the impression that it was dog food. I definitely needed water after eating it. So I picked up the cup, and felt like a fool having to drink out this children's cup.
She watched a bit more until I had taken several bites. She left me alone then while I ate. She opened the lid on something on the stove and the smells washed over me and made my mouth salivate. It smelled wonderful! But all I had was this bowl of brown chunks and a glass of water.
I had to have the glass filled 3 times before I could finish all the stuff, because it was so dry.
When I was finished, she said, "Now outside with you and do your business." It was as if she was sending a dog outside to go.
She stood on the back porch and watched to make sure I took a leak. My face flushed again as I saw the scene in my minds eye. Naked man, standing on the lawn pissing while this woman watched.
I finished and realized, I couldn't really shake my dick very well because of the cage around it.
Back inside she said, "Go back downstairs now." She looked me up and down as I walked by, emphasizing my nakedness and vulnerability.
I went through the house and back down stairs.
Sir was there arranging something on a counter.
"Good, you are done, boy." He turned, and I assumed the standing position, hands behind my head, looking down.
"We are going to work a bit on your training, boy. First, on you personally, and then allow you to watch another boy." I wondered if it was George.
He handed me a small dick-shaped rubber thing with a circular base.
"Put this in your hole, boy."
I took it from him and looked for something to put on it so it would slip in. But there was nothing there.
"Do you understand, boy? Put it in your hole!" he said in a gruff voice.
"Yes, Sir," I said, and reached behind me and bent a bit. This was so humiliating, having this man watch me. I put it at my hole and pushed. My hole was tight. I tried to push out as I had learned.
It started to go in, so I pushed all the way in. I gasped and pulled it out.
"What are you doing, boy? I said put it in!"
"It hurt, Sir."
"Of course it hurt, boy, and did I tell you if I cared if it hurt or not, boy? Not to keep it in if it hurt, boy?" He was growling now.
"No, Sir," I said meekly, and reached back and forced it into my ass.
The pain around the ring of my hole ripped through me again. But I kept it in. I had to close my eyes against the pain, and tried to stand up.
A tear leaked out of my right eye. I didn't want to draw attention to it by wiping it away.
"Now walk around the room, boy," he directed. I walked, feeling the thing in my ass. It didn't reach as far as my prostate. It just seemed to keep my hole open a bit, but I could squeeze down on it.
"This plug," he said when I was back in front of him, "is the one you will wear when I want to you remind you of who your hole belongs to." He paused, and then added, "Boys have holes, men have asses, boy. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," although I wasn't quite sure of the distinction.
"Now, remove that, boy." He stood and watched as I reached behind me and pulled out the plug. I held it up in front of me.
"Lick it off, boy." There was a bit of slime on it. I stuck out my tongue to taste it and he said, "Lick it clean, boy!" I jumped, and applied my tongue while my mind reeled with where it had been.
It only had a tiny bit of acrid taste. Otherwise, it reminded me of when I was licking his hole. I mean his ass.
He took it from me and sat it on the counter. He picked up another one and said, "Insert this in your hole, boy."
This one was longer, with a bulbous head. It looked like a dick, but a thin one behind the head. The head there was broader than the one I had just put in.
I reached behind me. I was moving it around, trying to ease it in.
"All the way in, boy. Now!" he demanded.
I jumped, and then pushed out with my hole and in with the plug. This time the pain was more intense, and I didn't know if I could take it. I thought it was going to cause me to pass out. But I got it in and then just stood still, trying to get used to it and let the pain subside.
"Walk around the room, boy," he instructed. This one rubbed against my prostate, and definitely was noticeable.
When I returned to him he said, "Now, go and walk up the stairs, boy, and then back down over to here."
I did as instructed and the movement of climbing the stairs rubbed it against my prostate and caused my dick to swell within its cage.
By the time I returned to him, my dick was trying to expand in the cage.
"Take it out, boy," he instructed, and watched as I reached behind me and pulled it out. I definitely felt empty when I removed that one.
I started to lick it, but realized I hadn't been instructed. I held it out.
"Lick it clean, boy," he said.
I didn't hesitate, but applied my tongue. There was no way I was getting the whole thing down my throat, as it caused me to gag. But I cleaned it nonetheless, and ran my tongue in and out as if trying to rid it of the taste. The tang was stronger on this one. A bit of revulsion passed over me.
He took it from me and then handed me one about the same length, but thick, both in the shaft and in the head. "Put it in, boy."
But this time, he had me turn around so he could watch me insert it. I was embarrassed by him watching me impale myself on it. And it hurt! But not quite as much as before. It definitely filled me, and there was no getting around that it was there.
"Walk the room, boy, and the stairs."
I made the circuit and it was difficult to walk normally with it in, and it was definitely pushing more and more on my prostate. I was gasping by the time I returned, and my cock was trying desperately to get out of the cage.
"Walk in place, boy," he instructed and watched me as I moved with it in my ass.
While I continued to do that, he said, "So, boy, we now have 3 butt plugs for you, numbered one through three. Throughout the day, you will be wearing one at all times. I will instruct you which one you should be wearing. At any time, I or one of the staff, may ask you to show which one you are wearing. You will remove it, lick it clean, then show it to them. They know which one you should have in." He paused to let that sink in.
If it is the correct one, you will be told to replace it. If it is not the correct one, then you will be sent here to await your punishment." He paused and said, "Do you understand, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," I was struggling, both with the concept of having one of these in my ass at all times, and having everyone know it.
"I also have a strap that will keep it in place if you are having to move a great deal and there is a chance it might slip out." He paused and said, "You will rarely be without one. And the size will be increasing over time until you are able to keep this one in for 24 hours." he held up one that was massive. It had to be 4 or 5 inches in diameter, and cone shaped, but narrowed a bit, and had a large circular disk at that end. My eyes grew round and my jaw dropped. I couldn't image ever being able to take this.
He chuckled and said, "Boy, with proper preparation, you will have my fist up your hole." He let that sink in and added, "And I'll be able to stick my dick in and jerk off in your ass!"
I couldn't imagine it! I squeezed my hole closed tightly and, of course, it couldn't close completely because of the plug that was in there.
"Here are a couple of other plugs you will be wearing at different times, boy." He held up one that had a tail attached to it, another had a funnel attached to it (I couldn't imagine what it was for), one that was shaped strangely (again, I had no clue); there was shaped like a small fist, and one that was 10 or 12 inches long that looked like a policeman's baton.
Then he held up a massive looking cock. It was 10 or 12 inches long, but thick. Thicker than my forearm, I thought. My cock had shriveled up at the thought of these. He had seen the reaction and laughed.
"You will take all of these, boy, and more. But we will break you into them over time."
He held up the one with the funnel. "This is a fun one, boy. You insert the plug; then you can pour anything into the funnel and it will fill up your guy, but it will be kept in by the plug." He looked up at my face. "What would be put in there, you are wondering, boy?"
He didn't wait for my answer. "It could be piss, cum, vodka, a mixture of Bengay and alcohol." He let all of that sink in. I couldn't imagine Bengay in my ass. I shuddered.
"We have had parties, where we keep a boy with his ass in the air, fill his hole, with piss, vodka, 7-up, etc., and then, with a hose running out, keep feeding it to the boy. The alcohol is absorbed by the lining of the gut, as well as what he is swallowing. And when he has to piss from having drunk so much, the piss is poured back into his hole, and more vodka and all is added."
He studied my face. "By the end of the night, the boy,is wasted and, with a bit of ecstasy, there isn't anything he won't do. And often he remembers nothing the next morning."
He laughed and said, "With one of the boys, we used one inch-wide pieces of sheet metal. We heated up the end with a blow torch and burned a nice design into his ass. He never even screamed, until he woke up the next morning."
Was he just fucking with my mind or did these things really happen? I shivered and he laughed. Was this evidence that he was trying to screw up my mind again, or because of the reaction it created.
"You keep the one you have in now until I tell you to remove it, boy. You will take the other two over to the sink and clean them well. When you are done, dry them and place them in the drawer over there by the sink. It is marked `boy.' We will store that stuff that you are to use there.
I did as I was told, finding a soap that was labeled, `toy soap', and listed for butt plugs, dildos, etc. I was surprised that they had a special soap for that. I cleaned them well, rinsed them, and then dried them.
I opened the drawer to place them inside, and found wrist restraints, ankle restraints, a gag of some sort, blindfolds, and some sort of collar and leash. Were these mine?
Once again, he read my mind. "They are not `yours', boy. They are mine that are going to be used on you. I put them there so you would be able to find the items that I wanted you to put on."
"In the next drawer down, boy, you will find a pair of shorts. Take them out and put them on. Then put on the shirt you will find there and, finally,,, the shoes, boy."
I opened the drawer and pulled out a very thin pair of nylon pants. There was no lining to them. I pulled them on. They had pockets. I reached inside and realized there was no pocket to the pockets. They just led inside the shorts.
The plastic cage was fairly obvious through the material. I next pulled out the shirt. It too, was a thin nylon shirt, with very large arm holes and didn't reach the waist of my shorts. Both were white and nearly see through.
I slipped on the shoes. They were like boat shoes.
"Now bring me the collar, boy."
I walked over and handed him the collar. He buckled it tightly around my throat and then clipped a padlock in place, so that it couldn't be removed.
"You should be pleased and proud boy, that I have placed the collar on you. It says `boy' on it and carries the same mark that is tattooed on your ass. Anyone that knows, will know that you are my boy, my property." As he said it, I did feel a bit proud,,, and wondered again at my reactions.
"Good, now go get your leash, boy."
I went and retrieved the leash and hoped he wasn't really going to make me wear that. But he clipped it on and said, "Let's go, boy." And he headed up the stairs, with me behind trailing on his leash.
The plug in my ass was very noticeable to me, and made it difficult to walk, and to climb, especially.
At the top of the stairs, he walked to the front of the house, out the door, through the rest of the house, and to the front door. My heart started pounding as we exited the door, out in to the bright sunlight.
College guys walked by on the sidewalks, and a few of them did a double take when they saw me.
Sir was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with trainers on. I thought we were going to get into the car, but, instead, he walked with me down the street. I was following behind him and felt that everyone in the world was definitely seeing me in this condition.
My humiliation increased the further we were from the house. It seemed that, the more we walked, the more and more students were out and about.
He said nothing as we walked along, as if this was the most normal thing in the world - for a man to lead another man along on a leash. It dawned on me then that I should be lucky, because he probably could have had me do this naked. That thought chilled me.
In front of a frat house, he turned and walked up the steps. He knocked on the door, and I stood there trying to shrink into the ground. Someone opened the door, looked at Sir, and then looked at me. He smiled when he saw me, and I thought he was going to laugh.
"Okay, just take him downstairs and I'll be down in a moment to get started." I began sweating, as I had no idea what was going on.
Without saying anything, he led me through the house, where several of the guys saw me and pointed, and/or laughed. I blushed, and averted my eyes.
Sir led me down a flight of stairs at the back of the house. They led to a basement that was very warm. When my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, I saw that it was some kind of rec room, but it was a mess. There were beer bottles, boxes, trash, and, I was sure that was a splash of vomit in one corner. It was trashed.
I stood there looking around, wondering what was going on. Sir said, "You will be cleaning this up. You are to followi any directions that Nick gives you. I'll be leaving you here for a couple of hours. The place is to be cleaned spotless by the time I return, boy." He stressed the `boy', putting me in my place.
"As a special treat, as a payment for your work, you are to drink anything in the beer bottles. Nick will show you were to stack the empty beer bottles, but he will check to see that everyone of them is empty. And, boy, no matter how much you drink, you are expected to complete all of your work and have the place spotless. Do you understand, boy?"
"Yes, Sir," I said.
There were steps on the stairs and a guy showed up. He was the stereotypical frat guy. Handsome, cocky, and a jock, who believed that he was definitely the big man on campus. His blond hair and apple-red cheeks made him look like the all American boy.
"So this is the boy we have for the cleaning?"
"Yes, Nick. I have given him his instructions. He is to follow your instructions to the letter, and he knows he is to have this place spotless and the beer bottles emptied and stacked. Isn't that right, boy?" He stressed the `boy' and I saw Nick smirk at the word. It made me cringe again.
"Yes, Sir," I said, in as even a voice as I could manage, keeping all the emotion out of it.
Sir patted me on the ass and said, "Be good, boy, and remember - everything you do reflects on me." No pressure at all. He then climbed the steps and left me alone with Nick.
"In the closet there, you will find a broom and a dustpan. There are garbage cans in the far corner behind that door. There are towels and cleaning stuff in the same closet with the broom and dustpan. There are boxes for the beer bottles in the place with the garbage cans." He looked me up and down, smirked again, and added, "Some of the frats may come down to watch. They always get a kick out of a man being reduced to being another man's bitch." He said that with rancor, and I blushed.
"It is going to get rather hot down here, as there is no A/C. So take off your shirt and get busy. I'll be down to check on you off and on."
He stood there waiting for me to remove my shirt. When he saw my nipple rings he smirked again. He told me to stand still, and pulled down the back of my shorts. "And the tattoo, too." He shook his head and released the waistband of my shorts with a snap, but it was now lower and a bit of my crack was exposed. I knew I couldn't adjust it.
He went over and sat on the stairs as I searched out the equipment. It was a very short-handled stubby broom, and a dustpan that was all of 4 inches wide. The towels were disgusting rags. I looked at the trash cans, hoping I could bring them over to the trash, but they were chained down. He just sat there and laughed, as he saw my reaction to the terrible tools I had available to use.
I decided to stack all the bottles up over by the boxes and drink them just before I finished, so they wouldn't affect my work. So, I could get 6 or 7 bottles at a time. By the time I was done, I had gathered nearly 300 bottles of beer, some with none, and most with just a little bit of beer. There were several that seemed to have quite a bit in them.
By the time I had gathered all of them in one location, sweat was dripping off of me, and it had begun to soak my shorts. And the wetter they got, the more transparent they became.
Guys came down and would ask if I was the `box fag'. I had no clue what he meant and would say, I don't know. I just cringed at the name and would blush every time it happened.
One guy made a big point of pointing out that I had no hair in my pits. He said he bet I didn't have any crotch hair. I was afraid he was going to check.
I gathered all the trash next. This was pizza boxes, cups, napkins, paper plates and to my surprise and disgust used condoms. Several guys stood around laughing as they saw me gathering these up. "No free samples, box fag," they would say, laughing and slapping each other on the back.
Trying to clean up the vomit was the worse. I was sure I was going to throw up as I cleaned it up. But I tried to hold my breath as I scooped up the mess and run and dump it in the trash. Then I would rinse the bit of rag and repeat the process.
They laughed and laughed, when I would gag and retch over the little sink that was available for rinsing. When I had all of that cleaned up, I was dying of thirst. The water that came out of the tap that I used to rinse the towels was brownish. So I didn't want to taste that.
I went over to the bottles and found one with a bit of beer and drank the warm beer. But it didn't slake my thirst, so I grabbed one of the ones with more in it, took a big chug and immediately spit it out to the laughter and knee slapping of the guys standing around. It was piss!
I wiped my mouth as they said, "Remember to drink the contents of every bottle!" And they would whoop and laugh more.
I tried to find some beer to wash the taste out as I figured out and dreaded the prospect of draining all the bottles. I started smelling the bottles and finally found one that smelled like beer. I took a swig and washed the taste out of my mouth.
One of the guys came over, picked up a bottle, pulled down his shorts and held it under his dick. He began pissing into the bottle all the while laughing his ass off. His aim was off because of his laughter so he got some on the floor and almost got my feet. I moved quickly to get out the way.
He laughed and moved over until I was cornered and pissed on my shorts. All the guys in the place were laughing and pointing. Another guy walked over and pulled down his shorts and began pissing on me. He was laughing his ass off as the piss ran down my leg.
The faint outline of the cage was beginning to appear.
Nick came in at that point and told them to knock it off; I had to get my work done. Nick must have some authority because they moved away from me. He told them it was okay to heckle me, but not to interfere with my work.
He did have me turn around, pulled down my waistband and showed my tattoo. They hooted at that. When he released the band it was now lower than it had been. More of my crack appeared.
I then used the broom and the mini dustpan. And by the time I was finished with that, my back and hole were killing me.
I looked around the room and thought that I had cleaned it up pretty good. I looked at the bottles that still had something left in them and knew it was my last challenge.
I sat down by the bottles and figured just get it done. I didn't try and leave the piss to the end. I really wanted them done first so the beer would be the last taste.
I held my nose and started downing the contents. After one particularly disgusting one, I gagged. There was laughter. I had forgotten my audience.
I was about half way through them when Nick came down. He looked around and said, "Looking good." He walked around and then opened a door. "You haven't done the toilet yet."
He looked back at me, "Don't forget to get it done." He looked at his watch. "And you are running out of time."
I got up and walked to where he was pointing. I walked in and saw a disgustingly vile toilet. It was full of piss, shit and vomit and it was smeared everywhere.
I retched and gagged. They stood there laughing and back slapping at my reaction.
I flushed the toilet and some went down. I got the plunger from the corner and it was covered with shit. I grabbed a rag, wiped my hand and then used it hold the plunger while I used it.
I managed to get all the crap (literally) down the toilet. But when I went to wipe up the mess around it, the smell hit me and I gagged again, retched and actually threw up this time.
They continued laughing at me. I heaved until there was nothing else to come up and then had to stop, which took work.
I held my nose then and worked as fast I could to use the rag to scoop up and clean the place. I would dump it in the toilet and flush. It took about 20 minutes to get it clean and I gagged several times.
But I got it done and went back to the bottles. I was mad and pissed and just wanted it to be done, so I started swigging the contents of the bottle as fast as could without regard to what was in them. About 2/3 of the way through, I thought I was going to throw it all up again, but managed to control it.
The laughter was not hitting me the way it had before. As I reached the last of the bottles, I realized that it was hitting me and I was feeling woozy.
I downed the last of the bottles, stacked them and tried to stand. I had to hold on to the wall.
Nick came down then, inspected everything and said I had done a good job. He said, it looked like I needed a shower. I was drenched and my shorts were nearly drenched.
I held onto the banister going up the stairs and Nick directing me up another set of stairs to the common bathroom. In the bathroom, there was a bay of about 7 or 8 shower heads.
I walked over, pulled off my shorts and stood under the shower. The water felt great, but then I heard the laughter. The room was filled with frats and they were pointing at me. It dawned on me then, that my cage and shaved crotch was the point of their laughter.
Hoots of "box fag", "spanking the monkey, too much," and "no pubes!" and more until I wanted to cover my head to keep from hearing them.
I wanted to die then. Humiliation overwhelmed me. I felt like my life was over and I was completely fucked. My head was swimming from the beer and nothing other than piss and beer in my stomach; I felt I was going to throw up again. I turned my back to them and tried to wash my humiliation away.
They started laughing and pointing more because they saw the disk of the butt plug in my ass. "Butt pirate," and "fudge packer" were heard. I really just wanted to die. All these macho guys seeing me like this. Yet my cock would have liked to have expanded, but couldn't because of the cage.
Thank you, I appreciate the comments and suggestions -- they are always welcome. Harryrod575@yahoo.com. Thanks to my editor, Jere.
Have fun
harry