Smol: With Pricks and Bare Bottoms

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Young male homosexual sub & BDSM slave journals his life.
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AUTHOR/EDITOR'S NOTE: From a hastily written (and apparently never to be fully finished) paper-bound journal recovered by the author's full-time research staff after returning from a visit to one of those "barbarian" countries where all its residents seem far too happy and thus the kind of place which probably should remain lost and off all modern maps of the real Earth...

. . .

I have a penis, ass and mouth.

Those are my only relevant characteristics any more.

Well, technically also the fact that I do have working balls and a talented tongue, am nude in bondage nearly all of the time -- oh and blindfolded, handcuffed, ankle-hobbled and also, and perhaps most importantly, am prone to the inescapable implications that I *am* here, right now -- wherever exactly here is -- and therefore under the total physical and legal control of these rich, powerful, sophisticated and utterly wicked & shameless Strangers.

Name, nationality, race and age are all irrelevant too.

Well... the fact I am I over age 18 (and confirmed officially to be so) and therefore adult and fully legal for all matters involving sex and nudity. And that I have given my full and informed consent to all this in advance and did this all under no threat of violent force or any other unethical compulsion. Which is not to say I *will* never experience planned acts of primal & aggressive force: I have, so far, many times and also expect it yet still more.

What *sorts* of force?

The usual and reasonably sane kinds. Like... having both of my male, vestigial nipples pinched and twisted. My face slapped lightly. My tongue clamped. My bare bottom spanked hard. Electrical shocks applied to my balls. Figged anus with extra tabasco sauce applied by coarse paint brush. Or my entire rectum enema'd by cold soapy water twice a day. My ass penetrated by dildos and cocks so big I am absolutely stuffed and stretched to wincing and begging and obviously I get fucked, often, thoroughly and relentlessly and many times each day and without the slightest care for my own pleasure or orgasmic satisfaction -- though with the curiously humane little touch of *plenty* of lube first.

And when I am not "in use" by others my pathetic little manhood is kept tightly caged in metal chastity contraptions in order to ensure that it is treated more like a big dumb clit incapable of vaginal intercourse -- not that I desired that, ever, or at least not anymore. For I was once, of course, a "straight" one. Before being lured over and ultimately seduced into this dark hedonistic world so soon after becoming an adult and therefore legally eligible for the lifestyle.

I mean, sure... it helped probably that I was "cute" or handsome from the perspective of others. Not that I myself could judge. The only thing I knew for real sure 100% was that I *did* love the taste of male cum. Always had. The more male cum ejaculated across my face or erupted in my mouth or dribbled out upon my tongue the better. The more of it I could swallow or feel shoot down my throat and fill my belly up with, the better.

Speaking of age: I am relatively short and of petite build for my age, despite being fully adult and thus a "man" in all ways. Small skeleton and hardly any muscle. Hairless and perfectly bare and smooth from the neck down. Hairlessness maintained by frequent shaving (by biologically-female maids, kept naked and in bondage 24x7 too) and special oils -- also to keep my skin soft and smooth. Some people happened to like males who had this particular type of visual appearance and set of physical conditions. Whether naked head-to-toe or wearing pink and frilly feminine outfits or lingerie: for example, like a so-called sissy or girly gurl would.

No matter what: *they* (these Strangers who Owned me, anyway) liked *young* submissive males in bondage and chains and strong metal-barred cages and in non-stop sexual service like this. They liked to see them, to have them in their immediate presence and therefore have it implied that the latter (all the young, willing & horny male subs like me) were at their owm beck and call.

They liked to touch them, and to fuck their tight asses or hungry mouth pussies & throats, or to suckle their vulnerable exposed penises, or frig those same small dicks solely to edge them ruthlessly (while watching our faces or hearing us moan) or even to milk their delicate balls for every last drop of male cum we could produce. To collect up all our fresh semen and virile sperm for their own depraved but secret purposes.

To use us.

And... I was ok with this.

More than ok: I loved it!

Being used.

It would make my small prick stiff & leak pre-cum from its head slit in anticipation. My tiny needy penis and by big swollen balls: themselves unusually large given the rest of me. Freakishly huge, in fact. Especially when seen adjacent to my boyclit. My balls could produce *immense* amounts of cum and at an amazing rate of replenishment. My users were shocked by it, fairly often -- having not really believed the stories told about me in advance before they got to witness it themselves, either on privately shared-around video recordings or up close in person.

To be clear: I have no real name. Though you (my dear journal's hypothetical future reader) may call me "Smol" if you wish. I certainly *feel* smol.

I have a penis, ass and mouth. And I have no idea what will happen tomorrow or even the rest of this month and certainly not for the next ten years (which is when I will formally reach the end of my indentured service) other than I *do* expect to be... Used.

Used over and over again.

And I expect to get filled with endless amounts of male seed. From men I will never speak with as equals, only serve on my knees or my belly or back. And, if I behave well enough all the while: I *might* be allowed (and sometimes *forced* to have while they recorded it!) an orgasm or two. On occasion. And only with an A+ record of conduct.

They are calling me -- the electrical buzz from the electrodes taped to my perineum is how I know. So... I *must* run now. The consequences of being late would be yet another caning and my poor dumb buttocks are covered in painful, bruised welts as it is.

I'll try to continue this more tomorrow...

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