Date: Fri, 8 Apr 2016 20:14:20 +0000
From: white collar <white_collar@hotmail.com>
Subject: Converted to Cocksucker - Installment 24

Please remember that Nifty is a free site, but still requires funds ta
continue operating. Please provide a donation at
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ta keep these great stories coming.

I need to say this: Note that this is fantasy, not real life.  If you are a
sub, you still have dignity and you should have a voice.  If you are
involved in a BDSM scene, the sub has the right to set limits and to have a
safe-word to immediately put a stop to the proceedings if it turns out to
be too much.  If the dom/sado won't recognize your rights as a sub, my
suggestion is to say "thanks for your time sir," and walk away.  This is
sexual role-play and is supposed to be consensual.  Non-consensual is
assault and is a criminal act.

Any comments will be gladly received at white_collar@hotmail.com


Chapter 41

Fag 4:

As I tongue-fucked Master's hole, his flavor and odor began to creep into
my brain.  After all, the taste buds and olfactory nerves don't go through
a lot of processing before they hit that primitive part of the brain, the
amygdale.  We don't think about what we sense; we just sense it.  And my
senses were now on overdrive.  I had never even thought of rimming someone,
but the degradation of it plugged into the sensation itself and I needed
the degradation and that rewarded my senses.  In other words, I had become,
in a matter of minutes, addicted to the smells and the tastes of my Master.

Master edged back on the seat and his heavy, thick cock fell through the
hole.

"Get your mouth on my cock, faggot!"

Eagerly, hungrily, I raised my head and took his head in my mouth.

"Stay right there.  Don't you dare let go of it.  This is your god now.
Worship it."

I moved my tongue over it and sucked hard.  Then, suddenly, I felt it
expand slightly and felt and tasted wet heat coming into my mouth.  Master
was pissing.  Disgusted, I almost let go of it, but realized, in one
thought almost, that he had ordered me not to let go of it and, if I did, I
would end up with piss all over my face and in my eyes.  So I held on and
swallowed as rapidly as I could.  As I was doing this, I was also realizing
that it tasted nothing like I'd thought piss tasted like.  It was salty and
slightly bitter, but not that bad.  And, once again, the degradation of
being a urinal for my master made my dick hard.

"I'm pretty sure this is your first time drinking piss.  I'm guessing that
because you've always been such a tight-assed prig.  I spotted you a long
time ago fag.  Your submissive nature was apparent to me from the start and
I knew that you just needed to be prodded to surrender to it.  So you're
getting what you've always wanted and needed but couldn't even say: you're
one of my faggots now.  Pleasing me will be the only thing you'll need to
worry about from now on."

My mind was spinning: I was hearing his declaration about my proclivities
that I'd never even really thought about, at least not consciously.  I
never let my mind go there.  Whenever I'd get hard seeing some hero being
degraded in a movie or on a TV show, I'd always pushed that down.  But
master had seen it; he'd seen right through my pretensions and denials and
understood what I needed.  And now he was providing me what I needed.  I'd
only had to submit to my nature and to him.  Yes, Lord!

His cock pulsed in my mouth as his bladder contracted in its final stages
of emptying into my belly.  He left his cock in my mouth, but leaned over
and began to stroke mine.  Then he slapped it hard, back and forth, at
least 6 times.  I squealed in pain and shock, but with his penis filling my
mouth, my squeals sounded more like squeaks.

"Good faggot.  You'll learn to accept pain and punishment simply because
it's my gift to you.  Anything I give you, you'll be grateful for.
Anything!  Now, get up."

Master got up from the seat and pulled me to my feet.  Then he led me to
the tiled area and started to put cuffs on my hands.  But he stopped, and,
looking in my eyes, put them in his pocket.

"No, I don't think so?  You volunteered for this.  You asked to be turned
into a faggot, so I'm not going to bind you.  You'll stand there and accept
this because you want it.  Stand against the wall.  Grab hold of the shower
head."

I did as instructed, shivering when my back and ass touched the cold tiles.
Then the buzzer sounded.  Master went to the intercom.

"Hey Vinnie, come on up.  You can enjoy watching me denude my newest
faggot."

Master pressed the button next to the speaker and I heard the security
buzzer sound.  Who was Vinnie?  What was this all about?  And what was
Master saying about denuding?  Wasn't I already nude?

I reached above and grabbed the shower head.  Master wheeled a cart over
that had electric clippers, a safety razor and a can of shaving foam.  I
then realized what he meant by "denuding"

I heard the elevator doors open and Master called out to Vinnie, whoever he
was, to come down.  In a few moments, a rough looking man with tattoos and
piercings walked into the room, carrying a leather satchel.

"Vinnie!  Welcome.  Come on in.  This is 'fag 4', my newest addition.  Can
you believe he asked for this?"

"You're kidding," Vinnie said.  "Did he have any idea what he was getting
into?"

"Oh, I think he did and I think he didn't.  All he knew was that his little
fag dick got hard at the idea of being dominated and he finally confessed
to himself and to me that he craved this and needed it.  That's why I
called you up; I wanted to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak."

Master and Vinnie both laughed.

"I see what you mean," Vinnie said, walking over and taking hold of my
erect cock.  "I suppose he's always called this little thing a cock, right
boy?"

Vinnie looked at me and squeezed my cock and then my balls.

"Yes sir," I answered, hanging my head.

"Well it's not fag, it's a fag dick.  Only men have cocks.  Fags have
dicks, or perhaps we should say, in your case, a dicklet.  But don't worry;
when your master and I are finished, you won't have it anymore."

I jerked my head up and let go of the shower head.  I pulled against his
grip, but there was nowhere for me to go with my back against the wall.
What the hell did he mean, saying I wouldn't have it?  Were they going to
castrate me and cut off my dick?

"Calm down boy," Master said.  "We're not going to cut it off; we're just
going to put it out of reach.  It'll still be attached, but you'll no
longer have control over it, and you won't be able to touch it.  Like fag 1
over there."

I glanced over at Wayne, or fag 1, and saw for the first time, the cage
around his genitals.  Seeing that, I relaxed some.  At least I would remain
intact.  I lowered my head again, humiliation creeping up my body in a
flush.

"Now it's time to really turn him into a fag," said Master, picking up the
clippers.

He turned them on and held them where I could see them as I looked at the
floor.  Then he began to run them through the coating of fur on my chest; a
straight path from my sternum to my belly button.  I watched as my manhood
floated to the floor.  Even though I'd always been embarrassed about the
size of my cock, or my dicklet, as I was now coming to think of it, I'd
held onto my sense of manliness because of the hair on my chest.  Now that
was literally being stripped from me.  Another swatch laid bare to the
right of center and then to the left.  The clippers went round my nipples
and in less than a minute, the hair of which I'd always been so proud was
gone.  Then Master took the clippers to my pits.  I shivered, not so much
from cold as from humiliation, shame and excitement.  God, how I'd craved
this.

Master brushed away the stray hairs and then took the clippers to my pubes,
my dicklet and my balls.  In a few swipes, that vestige of my manhood was
gone.  They didn't need to castrate me: Master had taken all my pride; all
my masculinity by simply removing that outward sign; my body hair.

Master took the can of shaving foam and coated my torso and crotch with
cold lather.  Using a razor, he removed whatever stubble remained on my
body.  Keeping my eyes downcast, I'd watched him emasculate me and I had
done nothing to stop him.

"Yah, you wanted this bad, didn't you faggot.  You could easily have
stopped me, but you wanted this.  You wanted it so much, you just stood
there and let me take your manhood.  Faggot!" he hissed, chuckling an evil
chuckle.  "Tomorrow, I'll start you on the chemicals that will kill the
hair follicles on your body, leaving your permanently smooth.  Just the way
a faggot should be!"

Master ordered me to turn around and grab my ankles.  Then he used the
clippers on my perineum and ass before taking the razor to them.  He turned
on the shower and rinsed me off.  I was grateful that he used warm water
because I realized he could have not bothered.  I was shivering already
with arousal; what difference would cold water have made?  The fact that I
was, of my own free will, allowing a man to do whatever he wanted with my
body, to change it, to move it here or position me there, was profoundly
humiliating and profoundly satisfying.

"Stay there fag," he ordered and took a hose with thin nozzle on it.

He lubed the tip of the nozzle with liquid soap and shoved it up my ass.
Then he turned the water on.  I felt my guts filling with water, as Master
rubbed my belly.

"Don't think I'm doing this to comfort you fag.  I'm just making sure the
water gets into the nooks and crannies.  I hate fucking a dirty-assed fag.
Not that it would bother me much; I'd just make you clean off my cock when
I was finished," explained Master, slapping my ass hard.

He turned off the tap and waited, continuing to rub my belly.  I felt like
I might explode and was whimpering and groaning as my innards cramped up.

"OK, faggot, release," Master said, smacking my ass again.

I somehow knew that I needed to be careful, so I squatted down near the
drain in the floor and released my sphincters.  Dirty water flooded out,
accompanied by the sounds of wet farts as my gut tried to expel the fluid
that had filled it.

"Again," Master said.  "You're not clean yet."

Master repeated the process, filling me even more and waiting longer before
allowing me to release the enema.  This time, he was satisfied.

"Good.  Here's a towel.  Dry off," he ordered, handing me a small towel.

I dried off as best I could.  Master put his hand on my neck and bent me
over.  I felt cold stickiness on my ass hole and then a cold object
pressing against it.  My sphincter began to be spread and I cried out in
pain.

"Press down, asshole.  Make like you're taking a shit.  That'll open you
up.  Haven't you ever been fucked before?  Well, that was a silly question:
of course you haven't; you've been too deep in the fag closet."

I did as I was told and felt the object penetrating my hole.  Then, just as
the pain seemed unbearable, it stopped: it was in.  Master slapped my butt.

"Clench your muscles, ass wipe," he ordered and I obeyed.

I felt some small tubing penetrating my anus and then felt another metal
object slap against my rosebud, counterbalancing the heavy weight inside.
I realized he had inserted a metal plug in me and the metal I was feeling
was the base of the plug, attached to the main part of the plug with rubber
tubing.

"Good.  Now, come over here.  Get up on the table and lay back," Master
ordered, pointing to the table where Vinnie was standing, observing the
proceedings with a grin on his face.

I walked across the room, feeling the weight in my rectum that said
"faggot" with every step.


Chapter 42.

Vinnie placed a leather satchel on the table next to me and pulled out
seveal pieces of what looked to be plastic-coated metal and some tools.

"Now, let's get this on your faggot," Vinnie said to Master, not even
bothering to look at me or address me.

He took a circular band about and inch-and-a-half in diameter.  He took
hold of my ball sac and pushed one ball through the ring.  Then he pushed
my other ball through.  Obviously, there was less room for the second
testicle, so it was a little more difficult and I grunted in pain.  But
obviously, Vinnie wasn't concerned about anything but getting the job done,
least of all with my comfort.  I gritted my teeth, but couldn't stifle the
groan and he squeezed my balls to get both encircled by the ring.  Then he
took a piece that looked something like a yoke, arched at the top, but with
curved flanges about 3/8" wide at the ends.  There was a band across the
bottom of the arch, joining the two sides of the arch.  He pulled my dick
through the portal.  The yoke fit perfectly against the ball ring.  Next,
he took a small electric rivet gun and riveted the flanges of the yoke into
the ball ring. fastening the two together.  He tested the fit, ensuring
that it wouldn't slip off.

My dick was now framed by the curve of the yoke above it, which was held in
place by the band around my balls.  I was beginning to understand, but I
hadn't seen the rest of the cage yet to get the full impact of what Master
was doing to me.  Vinnie picked up a cage that consisted of two arches
fastened to a bracket at the top.  There were cross-bars joining the sides
of each arch.  He placed this over my balls, making sure they were
well-inside of the cage.  Then he riveted the cage to the cross-bar of the
yoke through which he'd pulled my penis.

"There," he said.  "Next bit."

He took a metal half-ring, pulled my penis down and placed the half-ring
over it.  This he fastened to the cross-bar in front of my balls, pinning
down my penis.

"Say goodbye to your dick faggot.  At least as far as being able to use it
is concerned," Master smirked, clearly enjoying the process.

Vinnie picked up the front of the cage, which he fit over my dick.  It was
rather like a jock cup, but made of coated metal rather than plastic.  He
riveted this to the top of the yoke with four rivets and lastly, riveted it
to the bottom cage.

"Nice Vinnie.  Just like you said.  How much?" Master smiled.

"Same as for fag 1: $500.  No tax," Vinnie laughed loudly.

"Great," Master said.  "Always like doing business with you Vinnie.  Worth
every cent.  Look at this faggot.  Just the way he should be: hairless and
permanently caged.  Pretty soon, he'll forget what that thing between his
legs is intended for."

"And just remember, you have to milk him regularly, just like fag 1,"
Vinnie said.  "You don't want him to have prostate problems and need to
start over again."

"I got it Vinnie.  Don't worry; I take good care of my faggots.  I'll be
calling you back in a few months, once all their tits have reached the size
I like so that you can pierce them.

"Nice," Vinnie said.  "Have fun and I'll see you then."

"Oh, hang on Vinnie.  I'm going to put cups on this faggot and then I'll be
stowing all of them for the night: wanna help me out?  It'll just take a
few minutes."

"Sounds like fun," Vinnie said as he finished packing his satchel.

"OK faggot, here's the last thing for tonight.  Well, sort of.  Actually,
the last thing will be the way you spend the night, but you'll see that in
a minute."

Master rubbed some lotion into my nipples, making me catch my breath at his
touch which progressed from tender to rough.

"This has hyoluronic acid as a key ingredient," Master explained to Vinnie.
"Makes the skin supple so that it stretches more easily."

"Got it," Vinnie answered.  "Nice idea."

Master continued pinching and pulling on my tits, making my knees buckle.
Then he took two translucent cups, applied some cream to the flanges and,
squeezing them, put them on my tits.

"Good.  You'll be wearing these a lot, faggot.  All my faggots do.  Over
the next couple of months, they'll permanently expand your titties so that
I can grab hold of them easily, as well as playing with them and watching
you squirm with pleasure and pain, without getting the pleasure of an
orgasm."

I looked down and saw my nipples, er, my titties, expanding into the cups.
The suction was incredibly arousing.

"Take this," Master said, inserting a capsule into my mouth.  "Swallow," he
said, pressing against my jaw and pulling my head back.

I obediently swallowed, having no idea what he had just given me.

"What's that?" Vinnie asked.

"Fenugreek.  It's a well-known supplement among nursing mothers.  It causes
the mammary glands to swell.  Obviously, I don't care about anyone being
able to nurse my faggots, but it has two advantages: it makes their titties
bigger and it makes them lactate.  Makes a fag feel even more humiliated
when his titties are oozing man milk.  Really brings home the feeling that
he's no longer a man."

"Nice," Vinnie said, leering at me.

"OK, time for beddy-bye, faggot."

Master led me to the other side of the room where the four cages hung.  He
pulled the pins on one, allowing it to open.

"Climb in faggot.  Watch your toes.  Don't want them getting pinched!"
Master said.

I climbed into the cage and curled my toes upward as Master closed the
front half.  Once it was close, I could relax my feet while Master
re-inserted the pins, locking the cage.  My arms were held at my side, so
tight was the space, and I only hoped I wouldn't feel claustrophobic during
the night.  Movement was out of the question, other than moving fingers and
toes and some flexing of the knees.

"Open," Master said and I opened my mouth.

Through the round hole in the cage in front of my mouth, he inserted a
penis gag in my mouth and locked it into place.  Then he pushed a button
and my cage rose from the floor to a height of about 6 inches: just enough
that I was swinging slightly and felt that I was suspended.

Together, Master and Vinnie installed the other 3 faggots in their cages.
Fags 1 and 2 were quite compliant, almost as though they no longer had any
will of their own.  Fag 3, Steve, was not quite so cooperative.  He
resisted and tried to get away, but he was outnumbered and he was bound, so
his struggles were futile.  Finally, Master bent him over and spanked him
hard.  I have no idea how many blows he inflicted, but soon, the faggot's
struggles lapsed into sobs as he begged Master to forgive him and please,
please stop.  Master continued for a while and then released him.

"Never, ever do that again, faggot.  If you do, it will be even worse for
you.  You have no one who's looking for you and I have connections overseas
with slave traders, so don't assume that I can't take care of a disobedient
faggot.  You could end up as the slave of some brutal master in a country
you've never even heard of; a master who doesn't give a shit about what he
does with his slaves."

"I'm sorry sir, I'm sorry.  Please sir, please don't sell me, please,"
Steve cried.


To be continued.