The Cockpig Ch. 05

He actually let out a little whimper. He finally realized the truth, not just intellectually, but deep inside his soul: he was leaving his old life completely behind, along with all that went with it. All that would be left of his old life was contained in a small box slightly bigger than a shoe box: a few mementos from school, a keepsake or two collected over the years, and his toothbrush. I'd added his old Nikes and a faded blue T-shirt in case I needed the faggot more clothed, but that was it. He wasn't going to be allowed any other possessions, and he was now finally realizing that. He was forced to come to terms with the idea, at last, of truly being owned as property -- a real slave. There were tears rolling down his face at the idea of losing all he owned. At the same time, however, I could see his little drain straining against its cage, doing its best to get hard and failing, instead just adding to his suffering.

I reached into my pocket and retrieved a leash I'd put there for this very moment. I attached the leash to his collar and ordered the fag to his feet, telling him to slip the gym shorts back on. "Get your little box, bitch," I ordered. Once he picked it up, I grabbed his laptop off the desk and led him out of the bedroom toward the car.

Just as we walked out of the bedroom, I was surprised to see young man about the faggot's age sitting on the couch. He wasn't a big guy, about 5'8, with short brown hair that was kind of curly. He had full lips and dimples, along with a small pug nose which made him look very wholesome for some reason. I instantly began to wonder if that was true or not. This had to be Cody, the faggot's roommate and best friend from high school. He'd told me Cody was a baseball player in school, and I could see it. He had the lean, tight body of a former jock, without being as big and muscular as, say, a football player or wrestler. The fag practically worshiped Cody, from what I'd gathered in talking to him. They'd been friends for years, even before high school, but the faggot had never "come out" to Cody. No one in his small town knew he was a faggot, least of all the person he lived with.

Cody was grinning when I came walking out. I think he'd heard us fucking in the bedroom, and assumed his friend had a girl in there he was pounding. The moment he saw me, his face fell, his expression turning to confusion, which only deepened when he saw the faggot follow me out, collared and leashed, holding a box of his belongings. Cody leapt to his feet, his mood turning to anger, ready to defend his buddy who was obviously, in his eyes, being abused in some way.

"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded loudly. "Who the hell are you?" He looked at the fag, collared and leashed like an animal, almost naked and freshly fucked in both holes, still reeking of my cum. "Evan? What the actual fuck, dude? Who's this guy, and what's happening? I thought you had some chick in there!"

"Ah," I said, "you must be Cody. I've heard a lot about you." I stuck out my hand, but didn't give him my name. Despite his confusion, he reached out and shook my hand, more from habit than anything else. "I know this must be a bit shocking for you, but I guess it's time you knew the truth. Don't you agree, fuckhole?" I asked, jerking the fag's leash. He mumbled something incoherent, his eyes glued to the floor, his entire body bright red from the shame and humiliation of his oldest friend seeing him this way.

"Evan? What's he talking about?" Cody asked. He was beginning to go from confused to angry.

"You see, Cody, your buddy here has been hiding some secrets from you, haven't you pussyboy?" I jerked his leash again. The fag nodded silently. "He's not a man like you and me, Cody. He's a faggot. Not just a faggot, though. He's a full-fledged cockpig. A cumdump. In fact, he's got a big load of my cum deep in his ass right now, don't you faggot?" The faggot was crying now, though whether with shame or relief at the truth finally coming out I couldn't tell. He slowly nodded, acknowledging the truth of my last statement.

"Look, asshole," Cody said menacingly, "I don't know what you've been doing to him, but this shit stops now. He's not a fag. I don't know, maybe you're blackmailing him or something like that, but you aren't gonna hurt him or lead him around on some fucking leash! I'll kick your ass!"

Cody moved toward me like he planned to get right in my face. He was very aggressive, quite the young alpha male. I could easily see why the faggot adored him as much as he did. Cody, however, wasn't much of threat to me. I had him by a good six inches and least forty pounds, not to mention years of experience.

"Quit getting so worked up, Cody," I said calmly, taking charge of the situation. "He hasn't been blackmailed at all. No one has forced the faggot to do anything he didn't want to do. Hell, some of the nasty shit he's done, he actually begged to do. I have plenty of video of it, if you'd like to see it. Great video of him sucking cock, getting fucked, licking my boots, plus other nasty things you don't want to know about. He's a faggot pig, and he's wants to serve a real man." I tightened up my grip on the faggot's leash. "Drop those shorts. Show Cody your cage, pussyboy."

Slowly, the faggot put down the box of his belongings, then lowered his shorts. More tears as he displayed his locked genitals to his best friend. The look on Cody's face when he saw the chastity cage was one of shock, along with dawning comprehension. His disbelief began to fade. No man would allow himself to be locked into something like that willingly. Not even if he were being blackmailed.

I snapped my fingers. "Show Cody what a good bootlicker you are, bitch." The fag slowly sank to his knees and stuck out his tongue, running it across the leather of my boots. I could see a look of disgust come across Cody's face. The truth had finally hit home. I reached down and pulled the faggot's shorts down further, exposing the plug up his hole for Cody.

"This is what he is. This is the life he needs and wants. Nothing forced about it. The faggot chose this," I told him. "And it benefits you, too, Cody. Yeah, you have to find a new roommate, but the good news is that this fag won't need much. I have a cage waiting for him to live in, so all his furniture is being left here. You can keep it or sell it if you want. Same with his car. It's a piece of shit, but it's yours now," I said, tossing him the faggot's keys. "What do you say? Would you like him to lick your shoes to say goodbye?"

"No. Just get that freak out of my house. Both of you. Go. I don't ever want to see that queer again," Cody replied, a sneer on his face. He turned and walked into his bedroom, slamming the door.

"Just as well, pussyboy. Now you don't have to worry about anyone looking for you. And it's always better to be honest, don't you think?" I pulled him up by his leash, allowing him to pull up his shorts and grab what little he still possessed in the single box. He was still crying, true, but he was also still obedient. I pulled down the front of his shorts momentarily. Sure enough, his little drain was still filling its cage, as hard as it could get inside its small plastic prison.

I led the faggot out to my car on his leash, then ordered him to put his box of stuff in my front floorboard. When I opened the trunk, the bitch didn't even hesitate; he climbed inside as if he expected it. It was going to be a long ride to his new home. Two hours for him to think about the loss of his old life, and what his new life would entail.