Involuntary Man Slut

I was her man-slave now, her boy. Naked, erect, cuffed, collared and controlled. She would decide when I got a hard-on, when or if I could cum and everything in between. I had taken the boy's place in everything but desperation. I imagined, I guess I hoped, that feeling would not be too far away.

I felt a familiar, yet distant pleasurable buzz in my balls that began to tingle it's way up my erection. I was horny, but she hadn't even touched me yet. She took the control devise out of her pocket and smiled.

"Let's try the reward method first, shall we? If you do well I will allow you to cum at the end of the day, under supervision. By do well I mean do everything I tell you to do, without hesitation. Absolute obedience will be rewarded. Anything less will be punished and you will not be allowed to cum, understand?"

"Understand." I confirmed. She frowned and slid the palm control dial down. The discomfort softened my erection and I understood my mistake immediately.

"Yes Miss" is a more appropriate answer," she instructed her errant boy.

"Yes Miss," I repeated. The pleasurable sensation in my groin grew and I became erect again. I understood the lure. Dopamine flooded my brain; sex hormones took control of my body and my thinking. Could becoming enslaved be that simple? Just harden the cock to control the man? Why didn't all women understand such a simple pragmatic reality? Along with that epiphany came the disturbing realization that she could easily pass the remote to a different handler and I would need to obey. For the first time I understood what was going on. Unscrupulous women, using cutting edge technology, were luring men looking for an adventure into sexual slavery. But that wouldn't really be effective without a simple hard-wired truth: most men got horny if their cocks were hardened. Simple cause and effect backed up by immoral tech use.

She wrapped her hand around my hard cock and squeezed. I gasped at the first actual feel of her hand around my cock. "Good boy. Let's go find a better place to get acquainted."

Her hand never left my erect cock. She reversed her grip and used my boner as a handle to pull me after her. It would stay hard, and I would stay horny as long as the setting on the control pad stayed where it was. She could turn up the juice if she wanted me to cum, but at the current setting my cock would stay hard enough to use for just about anything, just about all day. After four hours of consistent use the batteries would need recharging and her boy would hopefully get a break.

The Use of It

"Godamit, where is that slut when I need him?" I heard her venting just after the door slammed. "Get over here slut! What use are you if you can't have my cock hard when I want it?" She was livid. Other people frustrating her plans always made her angry. Actually, anything or anyone getting in her way at anytime frustrated her, and she needed a way to blow off steam. That outlet used to be the poor naked kid that begged to lick her, hoping she would let him cum. Now I was her outlet. She used me many times a day for various reasons. Sometimes she was bored and needed a distraction. At those times she played with my cock and edged me until I was ready to explode. Ready, but not permitted. Other times she was angry and required a target to work through her frustrations on. I was never allowed to stray far from her.

I felt the familiar buzz in my scrotum as she activated the tracking app linked to the Bluetooth connection that controlled the metal ring around my balls and the base of my cock. I knew from experience that I had about five seconds to be by her side, ready to be used. I hurried into the next room and skidded to a stop beside her, cock erect and pushed forward for her convenience before she had a chance to slide the palm control into the discomfort level.

She alternately slapped and stroked my erection for the next 10 minutes. She slapped it to punish someone who had wronged her during her day, and stroked it to keep it hard. Once her frustration abated she settled into a steady rhythm.

"Fuck back slut," she directed. "Why should I do all the work? You fuck my hand until I say stop." She slapped my ass to punctuate her directive, and to start me moving. "Do what you're told if you expect to cum today, but no cumming without permission," she reminded me.

I began pumping my hips, sliding a cock that felt like it was made of metal in and out of her loose fist. It was heaven. It was why I chose to stay here. The humiliation, the degradation, the sexual objectification and total loss of personal responsibility that comes along with being a slut consumed me. I became her thing, her tool. I wallowed in depravity. It was intoxicating. I was hers, and I got used a lot.

Like the boy I replaced, she kept me naked and cock-ringed with the same electronic gadget. Lately I had become so conditioned to the initial buzz of the ring, that my cock went ahead and hardened anyway, even without forced electrical stimulation. And the couple of times I had not been fast enough to respond were uncomfortable enough to make me run when she buzzed for me.

"On the floor. Ass up," she barked! The pleasure level in my crotch stayed constant so I remained erect when I put the side of my face on the floor and arched my ass into the air. My arms were stretched out ahead of me where they kept my hands away from any possible interference. I heard the snap and echo of leather against leather as she strapped on the dildo she used to resolve the more anger-repressed moments in her day. I fidgeted, anticipating the invasion.  

"SLAP!" The right cheek of my exposed ass twitched and stung.

"Stay still slut! If I want your ass to move I'll slap it a few more times," she snapped.

I felt the cold gel drop on my asshole and begin to seep into it. At least she thought to use lube this time and not just spit. The head of the fake cock forced its way into my opening. There was no time to adjust, no time to accommodate the big cock. She shoved her strap-on all the way into my fuck-hole.

With her dildo embedded in my ass, she reached between my legs and found my rigid cock, still responding to the setting on her palm-sized control pad.

"Mmmm, good slut," she allowed. "I'm gonna need to ride this for awhile before I'm done," she announced to no one while she squeezed my erection. "But first I need to vent a little!" The long, thick, latex cock withdrew from its assault slowly then slammed into my asshole suddenly, insistently, repeatedly. I focused on trying not to cum without permission while I was being revenge-fucked by a woman I barely knew. But clearly, a woman who now owned me.

"Squeal slut!" She let the frustration of her day pour out through the dildo into my asshole. The thick latex fuck-stick poled in and out of my hole and she slapped my ass again, just for fun. The cock ring was dialled all the way up and my cock was ready to erupt.

"Squeal like a pig!" She demanded.

I squealed like a pig and came like a slut at the same time as her cock slammed into my ass for the final time. No control. It was all too insane. How on earth did I get into this situation? My cock was rock hard from the forced stimulation of the cock ring, and her riding me like a gutter-whore pushed me over the edge. Even as I blew cum all over her hardwood floor, I knew I would be punished for cumming without permission. She would make me lick it all up while she "motivated" me with a riding crop. The really disturbing part was that I was looking forward to it. Looking forward to the deprivation. I never felt as much like a total slut as I did that day. It was all, just out of my control.

And right then I understood. I figured out what I was fascinated with, why I was here. Why I had let myself be enslaved by this woman? It was ownership. I belonged to her. It was about proving to myself that I didn't have a choice in the first place. I was always a slut waiting to be exposed, to be used. I needed to be used and she recognized that need. Recognized it and exploited it.

One day I began thinking about what I had been doing here originally. I recalled the exposé piece that had given me access to this strange and captivating world that I was an integral part of now. I looked down at my hanging cock, encircled along with my balls in electronic steel. I lived naked, subject to the sexual whim of a sadistic woman who was aroused by humiliating me. And she had broken me. I felt my control slipping away and I began to question what was in store for me. I mean, what does the future look like for any life-long sex slave? So I asked.

"What happened to the boy I replaced?" I asked, without permission to speak. She glanced at me with raided eyebrows then wandered toward me. I had the feeling I might have overstepped my boundaries.

"He was sold on, mister reporter." Her eyes traveled up and down my body, sensing my compliance on a new level and liking what she saw. "That means he was sold to another owner. It's usual for the boys to be passed on. I mean, can't let all that training go to waste, can we?"

She actually winked at me. "Once they are trained to respect their owners wishes, the control devices become unnecessary." She cocked her head to one side and looked at me. "You have that confused reporter look on your cute little man-slave face. What don't you understand?" She grinned. 

"Let me put it this way, a cock that has become used to being stiffened at the discretion of its owner will do so even when the device has been removed, get it? No? You will."

"I am training your dick to respond whether it has a collar around it or not. Thanks to the weeks he spent with me, the boy I sold on will now become erect whenever his new owner wishes, regardless of what the boy wants and without the artificial stimulus of the metal cock collar. It's all a matter of conditioning."

She smiled at me and slid the control dial forward to demonstrate.  Hormones flooded into my system and my semi became rigid as I responded to the mechanism; one more step toward a conditioned response that I had absolutely no control over. 

"Good boy," she cooed, and stroked the length of my shaft gently. "Now present your ass, it's time for your milking."

I assumed the position she had trained me for. I bent my knees and braced my hands on the floor. On my hands and feet my ass was raised for her inspection. The milking position always made me feel more vulnerable. The light touch of her fingers on my genitals made my cock harder regardless of the device setting.

"Spread."

I spread my legs apart so my balls and cock hung at her hand level. She weighed my balls in her hand thoughtfully. One hand firmly held my scrotum while she pulled my thickening cock down between my legs like she was milking a cow. Holding me by my balls she pumped my rod as fast as she could and kept doing it until her arm got tired. I usually came for her in about five minutes, but this time I was taking too long. 

She edged the controls up and I felt my cock begin to spasm. Just a little more would push me over the edge. I grunted and fucked her hand. 

"Come now slut!" She let go of my balls and started slapping my ass. I came quickly for her.  She maintained her grip on my cock while I squirted white sticky cum all over her floor. I was her grateful obedient fuck-toy. 

"Thank you Miss!" I exhaled loudly between grunting animal noises. My convulsing cock finally subsided and my bucking hips came to rest with my ass extended. 

"SMACK!" My ass burned and I watched her long legs and tight butt walk away. 

"Follow me on all fours. I'm going to need a footstool," she purred, and strolled into the next room. My cock dripped a trail of cum on the floor between my legs as I scuttled obediently after her, still in the milking position she preferred. 

"You can lick the floor clean later," she continued. "Once I'm completely finished with you. Your slut-like behavior has made me horny, so you'll need to scratch that itch for me before you put that spunk back where it came from."

The Long Game

The days turned into weeks. Eventually, even with the control device switched off, my cock responded to her commands, not mine. I understood what it meant to belong to someone else. With ownership of the cock clearly established, she allowed me become what I was originally here to expose: a sexually abused male. When not being used I was kept in a cage, separate but in a large room where other men and boys were caged when their handlers were not using them. Where we could watch each other struggle against capitulation as the women stripped away every vestige of autonomy.

Male assholes were stretched by being forced to accommodate increasingly larger dildos. Their cocks were stimulated and kept erect. In essence, they were being conditioned to cum while being ass-fucked. It was remarkable, and beyond anything anyone had thought feasible, or advisable for that matter. By the end of their lessons the males were capable of actually cumming as a direct result of being forced to be strap-on receptacles. Initially they came when their owners slid the palm controls forward to the orgasm level. Eventually the men simply learned to hold it until they were given permission, or ordered to cum.

Within several days of being recruited and abused by the woman I was there to interview, I was introduced to three other women as my 'handlers'. The idea was to train me to respond to more than just one woman. Multiple handlers would make for an easier transition to a permanent new owner, once the training was complete. I was lying naked in my cage one afternoon for an hour respite, with my cock ring control turned off. I was starting to relax somewhat when a commotion broke out.

Two women dragged a struggling male of about twenty years old to the whipping frame. His wrists and ankles were attached to opposite corners of the frame and he was displayed spread-eagle. He struggled against the inevitable all the while cursing his captors in colourful language, threatening to drive his cock down each of their throats when he got free.

The kennels were arranged in a loose circle around an open center dominated by a tall metal H structure where disciplinary measures were administered. It was considered instructive to have the caged males observe any corrective punishment. All males were subservient here and resistance to any female was met with 'corrective behavior therapy', meaning female handlers demonstrated penalties for disobedience in front of trainees so lessons could be learned quicker. Being corrected usually meant a whipping often accompanied by a strap-on fucking.

Now ten feet away from my kennel, buddy was shackled spread-eagle on the H frame. A mostly naked female acolyte wearing only a skimpy cunt-cover thong and high heels stood in front of the swearing guy and eased the cock ring selector forward. The guy's shaft grew stiffer immediately.

"Use it like a handle to keep him steady," the trainer with the strap-on directed. While her assistant held the boy in place, the tall blonde chose a bamboo cane from a rack beside the whipping frame and walked slowly, deliberately behind the struggling male.

"Hold him still," she nodded.

"Swish! CRACK!" The rod cut through the air and left a pink welt on the boy's ass. The boy howled and struggled, but the restraints held. Demonstrating initiative, the acolyte fished a ball gag off a nearby tray of tools without letting go of the slut's erection and tossed it. The blonde caught it one-handed and slipped the hard rubber between her boy's teeth from behind.

"I don't need to hear you howl. I'm just as happy with the sounds you make through the gag anyway," she smirked, and cinched the strap tight.

"Pay attention," she said to her girl. "Swing the bar into place." The girl hooked one end of a long metal pole into a hole about one third of the way up one side of the H frame and swung the bar across in front of the guy's waist. The other end of the pole locked into the opposite vertical support of the H frame. The guy had to bend forward, arch his back and stick his ass out to hold his balance.

"That's better," the blonde with the nine-inch dildo protruding obscenely in front of her commented. She trailed the bamboo switch over her slut's exposed bottom like a promise, then dropped it on the floor. Her hands cupped his buttocks then slid between his cheeks. She opened his tight hole with her fingers and loosened his defiance. She listened to him grunt as his resistance dissolved and her fingers probed deeper into his fuck hole.

"I think I'll warm that ass up first," she said quietly. The sounds of the cane echoed off the boys bare ass as the tall blonde in charge worked up a sweat with her cane. Muffled curses became unintelligible grunts as his ass turned a bright pink.

"Make sure he stays hard," she instructed her girl.

The girl used the remote to increase the stimulation and the guy's cock went from erect to pre-eruption in a couple of minutes. She could have made him squirt, but instead she edged him just enough to play with; a practised skill apparently. She slathered the naked boy's ass with lubricant, then took up her position in front of him. The tall blonde with the strap-on pried the immobilized slut's buttocks apart with both hands.

"Disobedient little whore! You will learn to stay silent until you are given permission to speak! This is what happens to disobedient boys." She positioned the latex cock head at the entrance to his hole then paused.

"What happens to sluts who are slow to obey?" The boy tried to mumble an answer through his gag but she cut him off by driving the cock up his ass in one thrust. Her accomplice held the boy by his boner while he was fucked from behind. The muzzled boy howled through the gag.

"SMACK!" The girl facing him slapped his face. "Shut up whore. After she is finished, you will belong to me for the night. Get used to being used from behind."

Subdued and erect while being ass-fucked, he was almost the perfect man-whore. But practise made perfect. He would be force-trained for the rest of the week. Every day. Kept hard but never allowed to cum. By the end of the week he would be docile, desperate for release. After weeks of this kind of treatment he would do whatever he was told.

When she was finished she left him hanging from the frame, naked and exhausted. She turned the control down so his cock could relax, tossed the remote on the floor for anyone to use and they walked away.

"Later slut," the Domme trainee threw over her shoulder.

That was how the chain of abuse progressed. Males were kept and trained to be pet whores. Once they were conditioned, the cock ring became unnecessary. Their cocks hardened on command. Then they were ready to move along to the next phase.

I knew the truth, but of what use was it? I had no actual proof and I was part of the chain now. Destined to be "sold on" once my training made non-compliance impossible.

I felt her presence before I saw her. She looked down at me and kicked her stiletto heel on the side of my cage to make sure she had my full attention.

"Can't tear yourself away from the spectacle?" she laughed. "Spread your legs! Ah, just as I thought. Your stiff cock betrays you, whore." Her heels clicked toward the front of my kennel and she unlocked the opening. "Come. We're taking a little ride to see someone special."

She gestured for me to crawl out and stand. My hands were cuffed behind me. Feet apart, cock still semi-erect from watching the boy next to me get 'corrected' for his misbehaviour, I waited. To my surprise she unlocked the remote controlled cock ring I had been forced to wear for several weeks and replaced it with a plain leather cock harness that encircled my genitals while separating my balls. It had a ring embedded in it. She clipped a leash onto the ring and pulled.