The Rape of a Male Slut

"Lesson number eight. You no longer have a cock you pathetic sow. You have a clit. A pig clit. You are no longer a boy. You are now my bitch, my pig slut bitch. Bitches are bred. You are about to learn that bitches have clits, pussies and tits." With that Master's hands found their way to my nipples, and with each index finger and thumb, he began to twist one of them. Daddy really didn't do it too hard, but it was more like he was massaging them. My clit liked the feeling, and began to take notice. This feeling would soon change for the worse.

Regrettably Master's hands left my tits and he grabbed what looked like twohugeroach clips connected by a short chain. "Soon I will pierce your bitch tits, but for now I have something even more painful in store for you pig. These are called 'Alligator clamps', and for your first time, and because you have such fat sow tits, I am honoring you with some of my more severe ones. That pain will be quite exquisite, I assure you. I want you to wallow in your own painful degradation alone, as I prepare myself for your breeding. But I want you to think about this while you are alone. The pain that your pig tits will soon feel will be NOTHING compared to what your pig pussy will feel when I fuck it. I am going to rape you so good bitch. So good."

"ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!" I screamed through my gag as the claws of the clamp bit into my right tit. AARRRGGGHHHHH!.....ARRRGGGHHHHH!.....

ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I howled as I soon found worse pain in my left one.

I can't describe the intensely, unbearably, dreadful feeling that this torture caused. It only got worse as Master's fingers squeezed the clamps further into my flesh.

{A brief side note on my tits is now in order. When I went through puberty, so did my tits. I grew very large areolas, which began to obtrude away from my chest. As my chest muscles grew and hardened from working out, my areolas stayed soft while they seemingly protruded even more. I was constantly teased about them, so I never wore tight shirts. But soft protruding fat nipples are the perfect medium for alligator clamps. Teeth on the clamps can really dig into plenty of soft flesh. Once tightly secured, a great deal of tugging is needed to remove them. Today, the nerves in my bitch tits are largely dead from years of abuse. Now I can wear clamps for extended periods with only mild discomfort. But this night, my tits were virgins to the tortuous effects of the clamps, and the pain was horrible.}

"Suffer bitch! Suffer you wretched pig. Scream....Come on, I want to hear you! You are mine to do as I choose. No one will rescue you. Soon, I will have you begging me to abuse you this way!!" Master said this as he pulled on the back of the hair on my head. "SUFFER MY PIG BITCH!......SUFFER!!!!" Master disgustingly spit once more into my open mouth.

As he leered at my tortured state, Master began to take off his pants. You remember, those painted on pants that I had once mused, must cause him great discomfort wearing. Once off, I could see through my tears that his huge cock was clearly enjoying this. Master began to masturbate furiously towards my tortured pig tits. "You really are a beautiful, worthless pig slut. I want your first breeding to last a good, long, painful time bitch, so I am going to relieve some pressure first." What a sick fuck. A sick fuck, with his own personal pain pig to get off on.

I stopped paying attention to what he was doing, and began to fall out of myself once more. The pain began to deaden slightly, like your mouth does when Novocain begins to take effect. But only very slightly. The feeling just sort of dulled, as blood left my pig tits. The next thing I remember seeing was Master straddling the torture chair with his enormous cock in front of my bound mouth.

"Time to breed your mouth, pig-bitch!" I couldn't move. I couldn't defend what was about to happen to me. Without any preliminaries, he simply shoved his cock down my throat. That's it. Unable to move, it was that simple. Air stopped flowing, but soon returned as he quickly slid his cock back out. In a matter of a few seconds or so, he pumped my mouth four or five times and dumped his seed down my gullet. I could barely taste it, as it went down my chute like garbage in a high rise, mixing with the other piss and snot in my esophagus, on its' journey to my stomach. Some might say that this was the first blow job that I would give a man, but that is totally and unequivocally, untrue. Giving a blow job requires active participation, even a bad blow job. Master simply raped an open hole, thereby claiming it for his own. It was now his pig bitch hole, and he would use it often in the future. As would many others.

What a sick fuck. What a sick, fucking, pig bitch slut I am. My clit was awakening and my pig tits were alive for the first time in their lives.

THE DEATH OF MY DADDY

Darkness quickly covered what had previously been a very brightly illuminated room. Master's voice could be heard at the doorway. He now stood there with his back to his equally dark bedroom. "Suffer you pig bitch. Suffer and feel the pain. Breathe it in. Nurture it, bitch. Nurture it. There will be no more medicine until later. When I rape you and make you mine, I want you to feel every minute of it. Every painful minute."

With that said, I heard the bathroom door slam, though it was too dark to see it do so. Pig bitch was now alone and in dreadful pain. Light soon appeared from beneath the bath room door. The weird thing is that I couldn't help feeling deep sorrow that my Daddy was dead. He didn't know it yet I don't believe, and Lord knows I never confessed it to him. But I knew then that I was already broken. Daddy had died, and Master had taken control of his pig-bitch. It would be wrong to say that I was looking forward to what I knew was about to happened. I was just resigned to the fact that itwasgoing to happen. My head slumped as much as my bound state would allow, and I drifted off to sleep once more, doing so with full consciousness of my own desolate anguish, ache and humiliation. The effects of whatever pills Master John had used to drug me were now mostly gone, and only the dull headache from their effects, remained.

THE BIRTH OF A PIG-BITCH

"Are you ready to be bred, my beautiful, virgin, pig-bitch?" Master said as woke me by moderately slapping the left side of my face with his right hand. The light in the bathroom was still off, but I could see Master by the natural light of flickering candles emanating from the adjoining bedroom. There were a lot of them. I would soon learn that besides giving light, candles can be devious torture devices.

"Answer me bitch! " Master commanded me to reply by swiftly pulling the chain that joined the torture clamps digging into my poor pig tits. I assume by sheer survival instinct now, my eyes lowered to the sight of that Bowie knife once again holstered in Master's left hand, and I moaned through the ring gag, "Hes , Sssir".

Putting down the Bowie once more, Master reached around and took off my ring gag.

Saliva dribbled down my chin and onto my roped torso. Master wiped it away with his hand gently, and massaged it on my cock and balls. "Right answer, my pretty little bitch. You are learning." Master then picked up some sort of black leather device with snaps on it. Grabbing the back of my head and forcefully pulling me to meet his mouth, he roughly kissed me for a good minute or so, fucking my mouth with his tongue as he explored every inch of my oral cavity. For the first time in my life I was being kissed by a man without my mouth enduring the restraints of bondage. As his tongue rolled around mine, I submissively returned his perverted passion as a good pig bride should, carrying the trepidation of her own deflowering. I even moaned meekly, as this powerful kiss stirred the pent up ardor being freed to flow into my pig clit.

"I knew upon first sight, what a perverse slut you truly could be Mark"

He said my first name for the first time since he had captured, bound and tortured me. He said "Mark". With those words out of his mouth, Master's eyes showed the inner anger of a man who tells a woman that he loved her, just so he could get laid. Masters don't need to say anything to get laid. Masters inflict their will on their pig-bitches. The pregnant pause was deafening, and intuitively I lowered my eyes in total, utter, humiliation. The shameless realization that Iwasa perverted pig-bitch stirred the longing in my clit. Master swiftly kneed me in the balls and began pulling on the alligator clamps.

"I told you, breedings are for the Master's benefit, not for the BITCH'S!!!" I nowwantedto be castrated, just so the pain in my balls would end.

"I (SLAP) fucking (SLAP), warned (SLAP) you (SLAP), PIG (SLAP)!!!!!! Master said as he beat his bitch with open hands. When he began hit me he had dropped that black leather device on the floor, so that he could smack me on both sides of my face in succession. After pulling on the clamps torturing his pig's tits once more, he reached down to pick it up.

Master showed no concern for the burning in my balls as he strapped me into a cock harness, quite similar to the one that I wear now as I write this story. Today it is a comfort; then it only intensified the smoldering pain caused by his knee. My mind began to leave me once more.

I began to float back into myself as Master waived that bottle under my nose briefly.

"Just a small whiff pig", he said as I now realized that the ropes around my waist and knees had been cut away. My ankles were no longer bound to the legs of the torture chair, but the leather cuffs on them still remained. My torso was still bound tightly, and though my arms and shoulders ached with numbness, it was easy to feel my rope bound elbows and my wrists joined by leather cuffs. Master then cut the rope that was tied around the chair and looped around the wide dog collar decorating my neck. My chin dropped to my chest just in time to see Master take his Bowie knife, roughly slip it between my torso and the rope, and held it there.

"Ready for your breeding, pig!!!!"

It was a statement, not a question, but I was a broken, perverted, pain pig.

"Yes sir. Thank you sir", I sobbed through sniffling and tears.

"Good, pig-bitch. But it doesn't matter if you are ready or not. The pain of your bitch breeding awaits!"

With those fateful words said, Master sliced through the rope around my torso. Now free of that dreaded torture chair, but with my elbows and wrists still tied tightly behind my back, Master in one motioned dipped his left shoulder, pressed it against my belly, slung his pig slut over it like a potato sack, and stood up. Smacking my naked ass with his right hand, Master carried his bitch into the candlelit bedroom to be bred.

AND MASTER SAID, "IN PAIN, SHALL THOU BE BRED"

As I was being carried over the bare shoulder of my Master, my nose could almost rub against the black leather, bikini type shorts that he was wearing over his muscular ass. As each foot came into view as he walked, I could clearly see that those shiny black construction boots were again being worn, sans socks. I would later learn that he wore them for 'traction', as well as for inflicting more pain on his pig-bitch On his forearms, he wore 4" wide, black leather cuffs with pointed studs on them. These were not the same kind secured to his pig slut's wrists and ankles, but rather, resembled Viking warrior armor. They weren't armor; they were weapons. Master wore nothing else.

Walking at a measured pace across the room, Master roughly threw me onto his bitch breeding bed on my back. It was European style in design, made out of sturdy dark wood, and had four tall posts holding it up. I instantly noticed numerous metal rings were attached to the posts in various places, and that across the top of the two posts at the bed's foot, was another heavy board. It was clear to my teary, naked eyes that this board wasn't put there at the bed factory. It was a custom job. I didn't see it at the time, and wouldn't during my first breeding, but the headboard was as tall as the posts, perhaps five feet or so above the top of the mattress, and was covered by a thick mirror. On other breedings in the near future, when Master and others would fuck my pig pussy while I was on all fours, I would be forced to humiliatingly view my debasement in this mirror. Not this time though.

With my back and ass weighing down on my bound and achingly numb arms that pressed against the bed, I felt my spread legs hang over the end and my feet actually touch the floor. My muscular Master was short, and obviously had made another modification to the bed. Master had cut a few inches off each of the bed's four, sturdy legs.

"Now listen my beautiful pig bitch, as I will only say this once. It gives me great pleasure to see the pain in a pig's eyes the very first time she is bred. When I begin to ride you, you are to look only into my eyes until I say otherwise. Got it pig-bitch?"

"Yes sir", I tearfully managed to say as I looked up at Master's raven eyes.

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!! Master ruthlessly slapped me on both sides of my face. My face was getting used to this. It hadn't stopped stinging from Master's last assault. "You aren't being bred yet, bitch boy, avert your eyes. Breathe in your Master's magnificent body with your pig eyes, while I secure your legs for easy access to your pig pussy! I want you fully exposed. I trust that your arms are aching. You look delectably defenseless you pathetic sow. " I stared down at my Master's body as he secured my ankle cuffs with rope to rings midway up the two posts at the foot of his breeding bed. Master I would later learn, slept in another bedroom that he sometimes shared with his equally sadistic lover. This bed and this room were used only for the breeding, sodomizing, torturing and abusing of slaves, bitches and whores. "Slave" and "Bitch" were not mutually exclusive terms in this twisted world that I was demonically forced into, but each also mean a different species of sub human-being. I was going to be both, and much more. Pimped out, transvestite whores regularly entertained their clients out of this room. More on that later.

I couldn't help thinking in my dreadful anticipation of what was to come, that I had on first glance underestimated Master's diminutive size when he first greeted me wearing his business suit. Master was short, but he was extremely muscular, and obviously worked out regularly. He was a pit bull. As Master's only slightly hairy arms expertly secured his pig bitch's legs, his thick, tight, pectoral muscles danced. Master's leather clad, bull-cock and balls purposefully were being rubbed against my legs and blood engorged, harnessed, clit.

Master secured my legs high and wide apart, stretching the insides of my thighs taught, so that my legs were totally immobile. Secured in this way, my ass was lifted off the bed by a few inches, leaving easy access to my pig pussy. Blood began to flow to my aching head. Satisfied, Master walked over to a round, kitchen like table, four feet or so from the foot of the bed, and directly behind him. All sorts of metal and leather instruments of torture were laying on this table, as were many candles. Master grabbed a long, white, unlit candle, and one of those long lighters that one uses to light a grill. With Master's sadistic, raven eyes twinkling, and his white teeth gleaming between his lips, he held them in his right hand as he approached his victim.

"Lesson number nine, my pig-bitch. Different types of candles produce varying levels of pain when their wax drips on bare pig skin. The intensity of the pain can vary from quite mild to extremely severe. Guess which one that I have chosen to consecrate you with for your first breeding, bitch?" Master said as he positioned himself between my legs, rubbing his leather dressed cock on my pig-pussy.

I was too scared to answer, and that was a big mistake. Using the long white candle, Master slowly raised the chain joining the clamps that dug into my tits, pulling on it ever so slightly. "Lesson number ten, you insolent pig! When your Master asks you a question, you are to answer him! Now let's heat things up a bit to allow you to provide me with the proper response!"

With the unlit white candle in his right hand, Master flicked on the grill lighter with his left and started to waive it underneath the chain. I couldn't feel anything at first, but as the flame warmed up the chain, the heat slowly traveled towards the metal clamps digging into my tit flesh. Soon, a burning sensation could be felt, that rapidly amplified in intensity. I thought that he was going to burn my nipples off when I cried out in grief,

"I am sorry Sir!!! AHHHHHH! The severe ones sir!"

"Not as severe as it should be pig-bitch, but it is white. White is the perfect color for a virgin, pig pussy. Now carefully listen in your anguish as I tell you what I expect out of you when I breed your worthless pussy and claim it as my property."

As Master spoke, he continued to thankfully hold the chain off my chest while he moderately whacked the now unlit lighter on my clit and balls. Pathetic pain pig that I was becoming, my clit liked the attention. Master's voice began to soften, and though the words that came out of his mouth next were hardly kind, his intonation was especially loving.

"I have not gagged your slutty mouth for a reason, my beautiful, horny, pig-bitch. Iwantyou to cry out in pain. Iwantto hear the tormented, dreadful fear in your voice as I breed your tight, virgin pussy. Moan, scream, cry out, and squeal like the worthless pig-bitch that you are, but you had better answer your Master with respect when I command you to do so! Do you understand me, slut"

"Yes Daddy", I began to moan with what had now clearly become a varied mix of pain, humiliationandcarnal yearning; a cocktail of emotions that would keep me bellying up to the bar for the rest of my life. "Yes Daddy, I understand."

Master's commanding lips once again overpowered mine, and his hand withdrew the candlestick that held the chain aloft my chest. Because the separate rings that attached the chain to the clamps didn't allow for a total transference of the heat from the flame, the chain was the hottest part of this torture device. This had been why Master held it from my skin for awhile. It was also why he then let it fall onto my hairy chest. It was still very hot, and when it hit its' target, my chest hair burned and the hot chain seared into my flesh. The pain was exquisite, and the smell of the burnt hair was unmistakable.

Anybody that has smelled singed hair knows what it smells like; burnt pig. After raping my now quite eager mouth with his tongue for a few luxuriously painful minutes, Master stood up, still holding the candle. I could see where the hot chain had melted the wax about a third of the way through on one side, halfway up the candle. Master's eyes became fiery once more, and his gentleness vanished.

"WHAP!" Master had raised his left hand holding the candle and swiftly clubbed my clit and pig balls with it, breaking the candle in two at precisely where the chain had melted it. Luckily my hardened clit took much of the blow, but my pig balls also took their share and they still ached from all the previous torment inflicted upon them.

"AHHHHHHH!!!!!!" I cried out in agony.

"Listen slut. You are longer a male. You are a bitch, a pig-bitch. You are no longer to call me Daddy. No one can save you from your wretched fate. I own your ass now, and from now on you are to call me Master or Sir! Got it pig-bitch!"

"Yes Master...yes Sir" I moaned both just to make sure I got it right.