4o

The four owners -

 

One. Young master.

 

He puts his fingers to the taut material of my panties. It disgusts me, but I am beginning to like it, against all my instincts and morality. My hands are clasped obediently behind my back, so controlled already, it has taken such a short time for him to stop me being naughty.

"I'm going to turn you into raging queen; cross-dressing, medical procedures, the works. And you're going to want it, because of personality-processing, or character-modification, whatever you want to call it. You're going to become one of those ugly, unsexual 'things' that disgust most people, and attract derision from others. I'm doing this to you as a joke, at most as an experiment."

The urge to run hits me again, to flee back to my family. But I know that I must be strong. I must not run away from myself any more. I must be true to my station and status and ambition. I hold still, trembling, dust motes awakened by the movement of the large wooden construction dancing together in the slanting rays of late afternoon sunlight which slant from the window.

"Last time you came here, I failed to force you to suck my cock. I was kind. That kindness has gone. Get on your knees, open my zip, and do what you will live for, my little cocksucker."

I freeze. The wall of terror wells up from the darkness beneath my mind and for the first time in memory, I am literally paralysed with fear. It is not fear of that which he commands me to do, for that impresses revulsion more than anxiety, but fear at the punishment I know I will get for refusal. And refuse I must.

"My Master, this slave is truly sorry, but it must decline, Sir."

The punch, the very first punch to the guts, fells me. I nearly black out and stars flicker in my vision as I fall to hands and knees. I had never expected such pure violence. I try to get up, but he is putting a chain around my neck. As I try to rise he helps me with a sharp tug from the pulley above and soon I am standing staright up with perfect posture, the chain biting into my neck, but not restricting the blood flow. He grabs my left hand and pulls it quickly towards the post beside me that make up one side of this frame that he must have made himself. I try to fight him but two arms are stronger than one, and quickly I am pinioned on that side and then the other. If he punches me again it'll probably kill me. Again that wave of fear crushes me, but this time its about what I've got myself into.

"The whipping is just for fun. I'm not into all this mild shit. Each time you disobey I will remove one of your teeth. Think about it while I whip you."

 

The whipping took over an hour, and was up to that point the worst ever experience of my life. He whipped every available surface with a thin hard cane and a studded paddle. He gagged me after just five minutes, due to the uncontrollable screaming. I pissed myself. I started to retch. He pulled the gag too slowly and I blacked out when puke streamed out my nose and blew out the cloth gag behind his questing fingers. He paused for a moment to find his ipod, and he turned the volume way up to drown my hoarse shrieking. I knew I was bleeding from many cuts by the time he finished, leaving me hanging from his scaffold, broken and filthy with my own pain.

 

My legs collapse as the chain finally loosens and I am reduced to a pitiful cowering thing, half-sitting, hanging by manacled wrists above me. I have no strength to fight as he releases me. I just sit there in my own piss, quivering and sobbing. The pink girl's panties that he had me wear for the journey here are soaked and transparent, outlining my little dick in its flaccidity.

 

A big steel chair is wheeled in and he drags me to it, locking me to manacles on the legs and arms of the uncomfortable device. A chain is again wrapped about my neck, tighter this time, causing me trouble breathing, and then he covers my nose to force my mouth open so he can insert a dental gag which he quickly expands until my jaw is frozen and aching. Drool begins to seep down my chin and onto my welted chest. He leaves me for a moment and I notice the video camera for the first time as he readjusts it on my position. A fist of terror clutches my guts again when I see him heft a heavy mole-grips pliers from the workbench in the corner.

"Remember," he said as he stood over me, "I will remove one tooth every time you disobey me. You've got thirty two teeth, after that I'll start removing toes. You are mine now. You will die here in this house, sooner or later, I don't care, there are plenty more where you came from."