Date: Wed, 29 May 2013 21:52:33 +0000
From: white collar <white_collar@hotmail.com>
Subject: Converted to cock-sucker - part 6- Gay Authoritarian

Converted to cock-sucker(Oral, forced)

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Chapter 8

"That's what I like in a faggot," Master said.  "Did you see that?  He came
just like a bitch.  Didn't even touch his dick and he came!"

"Yeah," Jon crowed.  "He's turning into one real faggot bitch.  Of course,
you have the size to really excite his nut, and that's a good thing."

"Yeah," Master said, easing out of me.  "A really good thing." he laughed.

He came around the desk and ordered me to open my mouth.

"Clean me off faggot," he demanded.

I wanted to puke; there was slime all over his cock and a few streaks of
shit from my chute.  But I knew better than to dis-obey.  I opened my
mouth.

"Stick your tongue out faggot," he ordered.

I did, and he placed the large, heavy head of his cock on my tongue.

"Just let it rest there," he said.  "I'll tell you what I want you to do.
You have no initiative here.  Your job is to follow orders.  And I don't
want to feel your teeth.  Got it?"

"Yes sir," I said, though, of course, my words were unintelligible since I
had a cock holding my extended tongue down.

I could taste the bitter salt of his come and the musky acridness of my
shit.  I suppose if I'd encountered these flavors in some sort of dish at
an exotic restaurant catering to adventurous diners, I might have found it
intriguing and perhaps delicious.  But I couldn't separate the flavors from
my position, having just been fucked for the first time in my life and
draped unceremoniously across the desk of the man who'd just used me and
turned me into his faggot.  Tears slid down my face and Master reached
down, using his hand to wipe my tears away.

"It's OK, faggot.  I know how hard it is the first time.  Next time will be
easier for you.  You've come a long way already.  You're obedient and have
a nice, tight hole.  And you're learning to be a decent cock-sucker."

As he spoke, he slid his cock along my tongue until the head was inside my
mouth.  My jaws were stretched farther than I'd have thought possible and
they ached.

"Now, clean it," he said, gripping the back of my head.

I had no choice but to do my best, tonguing his cock and sucking hard to
try to vacuum all the shit and slime off his dick.  He thrust in several
times, gagging me and making me choke, but finally, he was satisfied.

"OK faggot.  I'm finished with you for now.  Get dressed."

I retrieved my clothes and dressed in full view of Master and Jon, who sat,
arms crossed, staring at me.  They knew exactly how to continue to
humiliate me.

"Remember, no underpants," Master said.

I was standing on one leg, about to put my shorts on, but stopped.  He
pointed at his waste basket.  I balled up my briefs, walked to the basket
and dropped them in.  Then I resumed getting dressed.  Finally, I was
finished and stood in front of them, head down, hands behind my back.

"Good boi," Master said.  "On your way home, I want you to stop by The
Leatherman and get one of these."

He handed me a printed webpage, showing a large dildo.  It was named for a
porn star and had simulated balls and a suction-cup on the base.  It
indicated that it was ten inches in length.

"Bring it into the office and have it with you the next time I call for
you.  You'll practice with it daily until you become proficient at taking
it to the balls.  That's all.  Now get out of here."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," I said, not looking up.  I turned and left the
room.

I took the train upown, got out at Christopher Street and emerged
above-ground.  The Village was relatively quiet, it being a Monday night,
and I made my way to the address Master had given me.  I'd never been in
such a place before and I guess my mouth must've been gaping or else I
simply looked like a fish out of water, for the guy behind the counter
asked if he could help me.  He was friendly, but I felt extremely nervous,
so I stammered that I was looking for dildos.  He asked me to check my
attache and directed me down the spiral stairs.

I'd thought the leather upstairs was intimidating, but the equipment below
was even more so: pumping gear, books on B&D and SM, devices I couldn't
even imagine the purpose of and so forth.  Finally, I located the dildos
hanging on a wall and found the one that Master had ordered me to purchase.
I took it upstairs and was surprised at the price.  I checked my wallet and
realized I didn't have that much cash, so I was forced to use a credit
card, which I found yet another humiliation.  Now the credit card company
would have a record of my having made a purchase in a place like this.  I
fantasized about a report of this showing up on the morning news, but
realized that was completely unrealistic: a place like this did a good
business and I was sure they processed hundreds of credit card transactions
every day.  Things like that didn't make the news, except in my
hyper-sensitive imagination.  The clerk tucked my purchase into a black
plastic bag and returned my attache.  I slid the dildo into my brief case
and exited the shop, keeping my head down and heading back toward the
subway, with my caged dick bumping against my trouser leg.

Chapter 9

At Penn Station, I caught my bus home and, half an hour later, was walking
into the house.

"Elaine, I'm home!" I called out, hoping that being with her would signal a
return to normalcy.  But there was no answer.  I saw a note on the counter.

"Slight emergency with Mom and Dad.  Everything's OK, but had to make a
quick trip up-state.  Probably back Wednesay.  Call you later.  XO"

Fuck!  That meant I'd have nothing to distract me from my humiliation and
servitude.  I took off my jacket and rubbed my nipples, which were still
tingling from the clamps Master had used on me while he confined me in his
closet.  I was surprised when my dick throbbed within its cage at the touch
to my sore nipples.  What the hell was going on here?  Was I really turning
into a faggot?

I realized I needed to piss and headed to the toilet.  Unzipping my pants
and fishing out my dick, I realized there was no way I was going to be able
to piss standing up, as I was used to doing.  I dropped my trousers and
reached for the waist-band of my shorts which I immediately realized
weren't there.  No, Master had forced me to dispose of them in his waste
basket.  Now I was glad Elaine wasn't home; how would I have explained the
lack of briefs and the cage enclosing my dick.  And wasn't it strange?  I'd
always thought of my penis as "my cock": now, in a matter of a couple of
days, it had morphed into "my dick".  I realized that "cock" was a term for
a dominant man's penis; "dick" was what a submissive faggot like me had.  I
sat down on the seat and, after a few seconds, felt my sphincter release
and sighed in contentment as the piss streamed from my dick.  My shaved
dick; yet another humiliation.  Not only was it caged and beyond my reach,
but it was also shaved.  All outward signs of my former manhood had been
stripped from me.  I was truly and well-fucked.

After a rough night, in which I kept feeling the acryllic cage enclosing my
dick, I got up and showered.  I started to put on my underpants, but
stopped myself.  Master had forbidding underwear.  I was glad I had a
suitjacket on; at least the clear outline of the cage showing through my
pants was hidden by my jacket.  I arrived at the office and put my black
plastic bag in my desk drawer, knowing it wouldn't be long before I'd be
called on to produce it.  Sure enough, I'd just poured a cup of coffee when
my phone rang.

"Mr. Cooperman would like to see you now," said Master's secretary.

"I'll be right in," I answered and collected my bag out of my drawer.  I
tucked it under my arm and walked reluctantly to his office.

"Come in Wayne," Master said, obviously not wanting to call me his faggot
while the door was open.

I entered his office, put my bag on the chair and stood there.

"Well faggot, get your clothes off.  What are you waiting for?"

"Yes sir," I answered and began to strip.

I removed my jacket, tie and shirt and then my pants.

"Good," he said.  "No underwear."

The lock holding my cage on rattled against the plastic sheath encasing my
dick as I removed my socks and finally stood naked, my hands behind my
back, feet spread and head bowed.

Master walked around me, feeling my body.  He stood directly in front of me
and reached up to grasp my nipples.  Pulling up, forcing me onto my
tip-toes, he stared into my eyes.  I was afraid he was going to pull my
tits off my chest and I bit my lip to supress the desire to cry out,
looking into his hard eyes with what I'm sure were eyes full of fear and
embarrassment.

"We're going to have to work on these," he said.  "I like a faggot with
fat, long titties.  Much better for tit torture.  But we'll address that
later.  Stay right there faggot."

I heard him open the bag and take the dildo out of the box.

"Perfect.  Just what I wanted."

He moved in front of me again.

"Open."

I did as instructed.  He pushed the dildo in.  It was huge and spread my
jaws uncomfortably, pushing against my soft palate and cutting off my air.
I did my best to pull in air around the sides of it.

"Swallow," he ordered, pushing the dildo against my throat.  "If you
swallow, it raises your palate and you won't gag."

Between the urge to gag and the need for air, I was becoming frantic.  I
reached up and grabbed his wrists.  In a split second, the dildo was out of
my mouth and he was pulling up on my tits, forcing me to cry out.

"Keep your hands behind your back faggot.  This is training.  I will train
you to be a good cock- sucker if it kills you!  Don't you ever do something
you're not told to do.  Do you understand?"  he said in a low, menacing
voice, maintaining his grip on my nipples.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir," I gasped, in both pain and asphyxiation.  "I'm
sorry sir."

"Yes, you are sorry alright.  But not half as sorry as you will be if you
keep disobeying me."

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir."

"Grab your ankles," he ordered, slapping my ass.

I complied and felt his cool fingers stroking my pucker and then pushing
inside.  He stretched my hold and pulled out.  In a second, I felt a cold
object against my hole.

"Open," he said.  "Push down like you're taking a shit!"

My sphincter stretched and I groaned as the heavy metal object slid into
place.

"Grip," he ordered.  "Pull it in."

I felt a metal base hit my crack and knew I'd sucked it in.  The weight was
something I'd not experienced.

"A special plug.  It'll help to stretch your hole and get you used to
taking a cock.  And the weight will remind you of what a faggot you are,"
he laughed, slapping my butt so hard, I knew there was a red hand-print on
my ass cheek.

He pushed me to the floor on my hands and knees, then, grabbing my hair, he
pulled me on all fours to the closet and opened the doors.  He stood me up,
put the shackles on my ankles and the manacles on my wrists and then strung
me up.

"Now, let's start on your tits," he said.  "A little pumping this
morning..."

He put cream on my nips and I had to admit, it felt wonderful.  Then he
took a pair of translucent cups and applied them to my nipples.  The
suction felt wonderful and soon my tits were expanding into the cups.

"Open," he ordered, pulling my chin down.

Then he pushed the dildo in.  He tied a cord around the base of the penis
and then tied it behind my head, holding it in place.

"Now, just to give you something to entertain you and teach you what you
need to know, I'm giving you a little slide show."

He hung a tablet from a hook in the door and started a slide show.

"Enjoy," he said, smiling wickedly, and closed the door.

Having nothing else to hold my attention, I watched the slide show.  Photo
after photo of men, or perhaps I should say faggots.  Faggots with huge
pumped tits, dark brown against their pale, shaved chests.  Faggots wearing
cock cages on their shaved dicks, just like mine.  Faggots bound,
spread-eagle on St. Andrews crosses, just like me.  Faggots with plugs in
their asses, just like me.  One difference here was there were photo
sequences of the plugs being inserted so I saw what was in me: a shiney
metal bullet with a metal based attached with tubing.  There were faggots
with cocks or dildos in their mouths, faggots being fucked, faggots being
whipped, faggots in all forms of bondage in all sorts of positions.  Every
once in a while, there was a slide that read "This is your new life faggot
– welcome to hell."  The tears running down my face mixed with the drool
running out of my mouth and ran down my chest to my belly.  Then it rand to
my crotch and dripped onto the floor, where it mixed with the pre-cum
leaking from my caged dick.

To be continued.