Date: Fri, 30 Jun 2006 4:01:06 -0700
From: bamaboi2serve@charter.net
Subject: Remote Slave, Part ONE

Remote Slave
Part One
By: bamaboi2serve

     If you had told me a year ago that I would become the remote control
slave of a doctor a world away from my rural Alabama home I would have been
too stunned to even laugh.  Yet here I sit on a bench in the center of the
largest shopping center in the state looking on the outside like anyone
else, but having my body largely controlled by the man I am permitted to
refer to only as Master.
    One part of me is glad it is late Fall, because that allows me to wear
a long raincoat that covers much of my otherwise public debasement. Another
part of me, the part the Doctor has been uncovering little by little, like
the peeling of an onion, that other part wants to to stand up and remove
the raincoat right now. Here are some of the things I have done on command
from my Master:

1) before I left for the mall, I took two table spoons of the piss I now
routinely store in a baby bottle in my refrigerator and combed them through
the short hair Master allows me to keep on my head. I am not allowed
deodorant or any soap or shampoo that has a scent. That's to make sure the
smell of the piss stands out to anyone walking nearby.

2) That hair on my head is my only body hair, by the way. Each morning I
inspect myself, shave or pull out with a tweezers any hairs that show signs
of growing, and then take digital photos to e-mail Master. He will enlarge
them for inspection purposes and His punishment will be swift and sure if
even a single hair is showing on my worthless body. My name is shithead, by
the way. The name I was given by Master after he realized how worthless I
am.

2) Inside my ass I am wearing the third in an increasingly large series of
ten butt plugs that Master ordered me to buy online. He specified the pink
ones, to show off my worthless shithead status. Each week I graduate to a
larger one, and when I am done with this series I am confident he will find
a web site with a larger series. He is preparing my ass for his hands. He
wants both inside me when the time comes that we meet in person.

3) Underneath the raincoat, I am wearing only little girl's panties, since
I long ago lost the privilege of wearing men's underwear. For a while
Master allowed me to wear an adult sized little-boy underwear with
fire-trucks on it, but after a while He decided even those were too manly
for a shithead like myself, and made me go to the women's section of a
department store and buy the frilly lace girly underwear I have on
now. Under the panties is a diaper. It is wet, as demanded by Master.


4) Most elaborate, and expensive of all, is the combination cock-ring
tit-clamp devise that I wear. They are tied into a beeper strapped to my
chest with duct tape. The beeper is one of the more physical ways Master
controls me. With a single phone call, he takes control of the unit and can
send an electric shock to my tits or cock and balls. Pushing another code
into the phone tightens either the clamps or the ring, painfully so I might
add. I have never seen the device in any of the online S&M catalogues
Master orders me to study, so I presume he had it custom made. I am honored
that he would do so for a shithead like me. I, of course, sent him the
money to pay for the device. Each month he sends me the phone bill for the
international calls he has made to it, and I pay it with my miserable
shithead money. The internet has made it easy for Mater to find the
articles of my public shame and send me a shopping list. Digital
photography has made it easy for him to check up on me, though by now I
hope he knows I will obey.

5) On this particular Fall day, Master has ordered me to sit on the bench
for two hours. Also as ordered, I was to find a tough-looking teenaged boy
and convince him to take my photo from across the way so I can show Master
my obedience. It is difficult to find a boy who will even talk with me
because of the piss smell and my piercing. Yes, I have a septum ring in my
nose, the first of many Master has said I will wear before he is done with
me. Today I had hold out a $20 bill to get a boy to even come over to me. I
feel like such a perv, and I know anyone watching thinks I am soliciting
the boy. I will be lucky if nobody calls mall security on me. I am such a
shithead. Finally a boy comes over and I explain what I need. Hs smirks and
asks what's under my coat.  "Nothing," I say.  "Then open it up," he
orders.  I do as told, trying to use him to block the view for any
passersby, and he laughs.  "I knew you were a pervert...what's you fucking
name"?  "shithead," I answer.  He takes the photo, but orders me to write
my phone number down, saying he can use a good shithead like me. I give him
the number, knowing Master will be displeased and punish me.

6) Master has ordered me to wear a high collar shirt today, so the plain
brown leather dog collar I am wearing is not visible. I offered to wear it
in public, but Master said I was such a shithead I have not even earned the
right to display that symbol of my shitheadness. Idly I wonder what will
happen when the warmer weather comes and I will wear more revealing
clothing.

7) As ordered, I am carrying my piss-filled baby bottle in the pocket of my
raincoat, and every fifteen minutes I walk to the nearby public restroom,
stand at the urinal, and drink from it. So far today, there has been
someone else in the bathroom twice. The first man either didn't see what I
did or ignored it. The second looked at me, cursed and called me a faggot
and ran out. I am worried that he will alert the authorities, and so I rush
back to my bench to finish up my two hours.


How did I come under Master's control? Without him ever setting foot in my
country, much less my state? Did the mall boy every call me? What kind of a
Doctor is he...I fantasize him as a surgeon, but even if he never holds a
knife, I know he can change me...has changed me. I am his shithead, ready
to obey.

Comments? Bamaboi2serve@charter.net