Boytoy Bill Ch. 07

Movie Night

I'd just finished my workout for the day, a relatively light one, first day of a new mesocycle after a deload week, and was relaxing in my favourite chair reading a novel. Glancing over the top of it, I eyed our slave, Bill, who was reading a textbook and making notes on his tablet. He was sitting at his desk, and the spiky board was between his tush and the seat. From my position to the side, I could see about a dozen lash marks trailing onto his lats from across his back, and I smiled at the memory.

He'd been a dummy, and scored a measly eighty-nine percent on his latest test. If he aces a test he gets a treat, but fucking up this many answers had earned him quite the whipping from me as he screamed and begged into Lori's pussy. He had no excuse, we give him plenty of time to study and prepare, and he knows we expect him to take everything he does seriously. He'd thanked us when we announced we'd let him re-write the test next week. We really are too nice to him sometimes.

"You know, slave, you really are such a distraction."

Bill looked towards me, trying not to shift his weight too much on the sharpened dowel spikes. "Sorry, Maam, I didn't know I made a noise."

"You didn't. I mean that your existence is a distraction." He frowned a little bit, I sighed. "Used to be a time that I wasn't so horny all the time, you know. I've probably had more orgasms down in this basement the last year than I've had over the rest of my life combined." I thought about that for a moment. "Well, that's probably not true, but still... It's your fault."

"Sorry for making you so horny, Maam," he said, in a tone that was just a little sassy.

"Hah, you couldn't avoid that you tried, it's because you're a slave and I know you're always down here, waiting to be used for whatever I want. Before we made you ours, I wasn't like this. Now I wake up and I'm thinking about how to tie you up, I mow the lawn and I'm thinking about sitting on your face, I go for a jog and I'm imagining you licking my armpits after. It's really just... too pornographic, you know?"

"Well, I'm honoured, Maam. It makes me feel so validated to be so good at being your slave that you think about me all the time." A robotic answer.

"If you're such a good slave, how come you're sitting on the spiky board and your back is covered in welts?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him and adopting a harsher voice.

He winced a little bit, but I didn't give him a chance to answer, and went back to a normal tone. "I'm sitting here, reading this novel. It's a good one, but I had to read this page twice because I got distracted thinking about you giving me a foot massage while I read it. And when I think about you doing that, I almost immediately start imagining what else will happen. Thinking about the foot massage isn't even a sexual thing, really, but I know that once you start doing that, I'll be putting the book down and having you suck me, or you'll make a mistake and I'll put a hood over your head and spend a little while making you scared and cry. Then I focus back on the book, and realize I've read three paragraphs without knowing what happened. And, to top it off, now I'm a little horny.

"And there's nothing wrong with being horny, of course, but since I know that I don't have to pester Lori or set up a date with someone, I need only come down here and you'll do literally anything I order you to do, there's no barrier to acting on being horny. I think that's probably how a lot of guys get addicted to porn, don't you think? You're basically fulfilling the same function. You've turned me into a porn junkie!

I paused to think. "Maybe it's less pathetic, though. I do put a lot of effort into you, it's not like I just open up a browser tab and stick my hand down my pants."

The slave took all this in and found some courage. "There's an obvious solution, Maam." He knows he's never allowed to talk about freedom, and this was pushing the limit quite a bit.

"Careful, slave. I'll let that slide just because I'm such a sweetie to you. I bet you wouldn't try that shit with Lori."

"No, not with Mistress, Maam. Sorry." He went back to his textbook, briefly, then turned to me again. "Um, where is Mistress? I haven't seen her in two days."

"Aww, do you miss her, already? She's on a secret mission in town," I smiled. If it all worked out, it was going to drive Bill to madness.

Lori had found his younger sister, Jackie, on the 'Gram, and she was a cutie. She shared Bill's black hair and captivating blue eyes, but had a few pounds of tits attached to her, something her recently-dumped boyfriend was surely missing. Lori had made it a personal mission to find and seduce her. Yesterday she'd tailed Jackie from her house where she lived with Bill's parents, today Lori was making a flirty encounter happen where Jackie worked, and tomorrow they'd have a random encounter on the street and go for drinks. Lori has a knack for turning straight girls, and I sincerely doubted this eighteen-year-old stood a chance. It wouldn't be very long before the clueless girl was in our bed, her writhing, blushing body captured in high definition for Bill to enjoy over and over, being forced to cum while we laughed at him. Just imagining it was invigorating, and I caught myself thinking about it for several long seconds while Bill watched me staring into space.

I shook my head and almost snorted. "Again! Lost in a horny dream. Anyways, she'll be back in a day or two, don't you worry. She's still here in spirit, she told me to make sure you spend a lot of time sitting in that seat, doing better at training your brain. She knows I'm too much of a softy towards you."

That was true. For all the mean things I've done to the slave, Lori brings a level of ingenuity to the dungeon that I rarely match. I love her so much.

I sighed again. "I have to get out of here before you have me using you for the second time today. I'm going upstairs, you can get rid of the board at..." I glanced at the clock, it said one-thirty PM. "Three o-clock, not before. I'll come down for dinner and we can watch a movie, together. Sound good?"

"Yes Maam, thank you. What movie will we watch?" Bill asked. He was hoping for a people movie.

"A dirty one," I said while heading for the stairs.

A few hours later, having made progress on my novel, had a quick rinse, and whipping up some dinner -- ramen with pork belly and gai lan, mine spicy but Bill's a little milder like he prefers -- I went back downstairs. I ate at the table, the slave sat on the floor. I did give him chopsticks, though. We ate mostly in silence.

"Thank you Maam, that was very good. You're getting much better at the skin." It was hard to get the perfect crust on pork belly, something I'd lamented before.

"Mmm, I agree. Before you came here, did you ever have a woman cook you food like this?" I asked.

"Yes Maam, but not this good," the slave admitted.

I smirked at him. "You're living the dream, aren't you? This is some nineteen-fifties shit. You barely have to do anything, and you have a beautiful woman doting over you, feeding you every meal you need to keep you healthy and contented."

"Um, yes Maam, it's very idyllic," he responded, looking up at me from his position on the floor. Good on him for not rolling his eyes.

"I chose a movie for us. Shall we?" I motioned towards the couch.

"Yes, Maam. Can I please sit on the couch with you?" he asked.

"No, not for this one. You can sit between my legs. Come, come."

I sat on the couch, facing the big sixty inch television and the mirror under it, and Bill found his place right in front of me. I moved my legs to be over his shoulders, his arms outside, his hands slowly caressing my shins and calves as he knows I like. I opened up the Plex app that connects to our basement server (we keep a firewall between the basement and the outside world) and selected the movie we'd be enjoying until I got too riled up to keep putting off the real thing.

We hadn't watched it, before, and Bill wasn't sure what it was for the first few seconds.

The camera was in an upper corner angle of the small room. The door was down left, and Lori emerged pushing Bill into the centre of the empty room. He wasn't moving normally. I came into frame just barely, behind them, only my permed blonde hair visible.

Bill was moving awkwardly because he couldn't see anything. He'd just had blackout contact lenses put in.

"Turn this way," Lori commanded.

"Oh," Bill said in real time. This video was a few months old, but he remembered.

On screen, Bill put his arms out just a bit, feeling around, but turned to face her. He was visibly upset, Bill hates having his vision taken away because he knows we revel in surprising him with smacks, strikes, slaps, and more. This was no different.

"Open your eyes" I demanded. "It doesn't matter that you can't see anything, I don't wanna hear a peep. And open your legs. Wider. Wider."

He knew what was coming, but we were patient. The camera angle switched to the opposite corner, showing Lori's wide smile as she waved her hand in front of the slave to no effect. She let the seconds drag on before she struck, winding up and kicking him straight between the legs. Right before impact, the camera switched back. This was my editing work. I was getting quite good at this, I thought. I gave myself a mental pat-on-the-back.

Bill crumpled, clutching his genitals and groaning loudly as he sank to his knees. I stepped forward and put a foot on his shoulder, pushing him over.

"Stand back up," I said.

Back in real time, I was running my hands through Bill's long hair. I leaned forward and pecked his brow. "I love watching you squirm." He cringed.

Over and over again on screen, Bill stood back up and was brought down by Lori or I soccer-kicking his testicles. Usually from the front, sometimes from behind. When I moved to the side and kicked him hard across the gut, he didn't expect it at all. While he tried to collect himself on the ground, he started balling. Deep inhales and short, staggered exhales.

"Puh-please stop!" he cried. "Please, please take these out! I'm sorry!"

We both laughed on screen. Lori rolled him over with a shove, and kicked him on the buttocks. I bent down and slapped his face a couple times.

I paused the video.

"Why were you begging?" I asked the slave, looking at him in the mirror under the TV. "Why do you always do that?"

His eyes were already red, tears running down his cheeks. Such a softy.

"Because I wanted you to stop" he said, firming up a little.

"But we never do. We do whatever we want to you, because you're not a person," I explained.

"I am a person!" he started. I leaned forward and wrapped my right arm around his neck, using my left to push his head forward into the choke. His arms scrambled around my legs then tried to reach back to me, but unable to reach as I splayed my heels out just a little to catch his elbows. Not good enough, he fell unconscious and I relaxed my grip. When he woke back up in a fit a few moments later, he immediately started crying. Bill hates being choked out.

I'd wrapped a hand into his hair, and had another under his chin, holding him up. "You're not a person." I said. I smacked him a couple times while looking into the mirror. "You're a slave." I glared at him.

He was resuming his crying, but nodded. I moved my hand from his neck and pointed at one of my shins. There was a red line where he'd scratched me in his outburst.

"Explain that." As soon as his eyes found it his brow furled up, realizing what that scratch meant. I leaned forward and choked him again. In a panic, his arms tried to pull my legs apart (they didn't budge) and his legs kicked uselessly in front of him. Only a few seconds, and he was out again.

I let go, and held his head up by the hair. He came to, eyes slowly coming to focus and then darting around in confusion. I again pointed to the scratch, and again repeated the choke as soon as he looked at it. Again he squirmed, again he fell limp, again he woke up.

Again I pointed at my leg.

I loved this. Feeling the slave uselessly struggle and then fall heavy in my arms was wonderful, and each time I sunk my forearm into his neck my pussy got a little wetter. By the twelfth time, I was as close as you can get to an orgasm without being touched.

I leaned back into the couch, gathering up his hair with one hand and slapping him back into consciousness with the other. He came to in a start, but stopped struggling when he saw I was leaned back, well away from a choking position. He took some deep breaths and resumed his crying.

"Now, now", I tapped his forehead. "Eyes on the screen, slut."

I clicked play. Done slapping him across the face, screen-Me stood up, and went out of frame, out the door. I was going to the big room that contains most of our toys, and a few moments later returned with a leather armbinder and a length of rope.

The armbinder is a big sleeve that captures both of his arms and runs to just short of his shoulders, narrowing as it gets to his hands. A thin strap runs from the left side, over his left shoulder, down and under his arm, across his back, up and over his right shoulder to attach back onto the other side of the piece. Lori and I pulled and prodded, adjusted and tightened, and in short order the slave's hands were pulled tight behind him, his arms narrowing down to the hands that clenched each other, the whole apparatus forming a tight, acute triangle.

Bill was no virgin to the armbinder, it's a pretty standard and versatile piece of equipment.

Lori left the room as I finished securing him. She came back with a power drill, two screw eyes, and two leather cuffs. Bill, blinded and relying on his hearing, roughly squirmed as he heard the drill start. Shortly, we had two holes in the floor about three feet apart, two cuffs around his ankles, and were attaching them to the two anchor points we'd created. Lori tossed the drill aside, and we stood him up. In real time, I smiled at myself for missing the throw around the ceiling hook twice before landing it. No-one's perfect!

I pulled the rope downwards. Connected to the end of his armbinder near the wrists, it levered him forwards. I kept pulling, the hook in the ceiling just a little bit forward of his feet. The end result was the slave standing wide, legs straight, bent harshly forward, trying to get his wrists as close as possible towards the sky so far above him in this basement. I looped the loose end of the rope around an anchor on the wall.

In real time, I said "Look at that, don't you look so fuckable?"

Bill had stopped crying, and tried out a response. "Yes, Maam. Face down, ass up."

I smiled at him in the mirror. "Did you forget? We brought your face up. Watch."

Lori had again left, and came back into frame with some more equipment: the medium-wide collar, a length of twine, and a nose hook.

The collar was thick leather, with two straps running around it, buckling at the back. Lori pulled it tight around the slave's neck, making sure breathing would be strained for him. Then, tying the twine to the nose hook, she stuck that in his face and fed the other end through one of the collar's buckles, then back to the nose hook, tightening it before tying it securely to the collar's buckle.

The slave's head was painfully angled almost straight forwards, despite his downward facing torso. The wall camera caught him in almost perfect profile, spit already dripping out of his mouth as he craned upwards, staring into nothing.

"See," I said, back in the present, while I stoked the slave's hair. "All ready. You know we didn't even discuss this before? We just winged it. Aren't we amazing?"

Bill mustered out a pathetic "Yes, you're the best, Maam."

"I know I am." On screen, both of us left the room. I knew we'd return with one big strap-on to fuck the slut with and a chair to sit and enjoy his tongue on the other end. In the present, I ordered him to "Get up, go get the number two face dildo, a Hitachi, the light purple butt plug," (my favourite), "and a hair tie." I wanted the whole shi-bang tonight.

Hours later, wrapping up my sixth orgasm of the day, my dungeon phone vibed beside me. I wrapped my legs around the slave's head to keep him still, the rubber dildo sticking out of his face (not to mention about three inches into it) fully inside me, and swiped the pattern needed to unlock and see the message from Lori. It was relayed through an app she'd coded herself. One-way, from the people-world to here.

**Success! She's a firecracker! I'll spend another night here, maybe two, and I think she'll visit us next week xoxoxo luv u**

I smiled wide at how quickly Lori had gotten her into the sack a full day ahead of the plan, and looked at the oblivious sibling between my legs. "Mission complete, slut. Lori will be back tomorrow, and I think she'll be in the mood for something memorable." He groaned, but resumed face-fucking me when I took my leg off his shoulder. I flicked the Hitachi back on and went with it, dabbing it onto my clit.

Seriously, owning a slave is bad for you.