Obedience is a virtue

[John863-5309]

                 Obedience is a virtue 

 

I woke up as if in a daze. I blinked twice, trying to get my mind working. I tried to move my legs, but I felt I couldn’t move them at all; they were chained to the wooden floor of the room I was in, and I was ***d to stay like that in a kneeling position. I looked up, and saw that my hands were cuffed above my head,  to a short chain hanging from the ceiling. I tried to move, but with the only result that the chains started rattling slightly. The chains seemed to be just short enough for me to be unable to move my arms at all. I was naked. As it dawned on me what kind of situation I was in, I started panicking. I couldn’t move, I had no idea where I was, or if I was alone. I did my best to prevent myself from hyperventilating. I made an effort to pull at the chains once more, but the only real result I made was a sharp *** in my arms and my lower back, as if some huge *** had suddenly pulled at my muscles and tendons. I winced slightly and grimaced against the ***. It took some time before I gave up. I hung my head down on my chest, in an attempt to save my strength. Eventually my shoulders started aching something terrible from the constant tension of my arms being chained up towards the ceiling. 

 

Suddenly a door opened opposite of me, and a powerfully built man came in, carrying a medium sized bag. The stranger stopped right in front of me, and looked at me as if he owned me. He was huge, towering over me as I was kneeling on the floor with my hands chained towards the ceiling. I looked down at my exposed genitals, trying to squeeze my legs together in an attempt to hide my modesty, but to no avail. I was completely exposed, and there was nothing I could do to protect my modesty. I felt the stranger’s hand push my chin up, forcing me to look up at him like an inferior subject about to be put in its place. He lifted his head and looked me in my eyes, still with that look of superiority on his face. “That’s it. Good eyes. Submissive and frightened, that’s what I like to see”. He took his hand away from my chin and I let my head drop to the floor again. His lustful, authoritative gaze made me feel like I was falling endlessly. Who was this stranger? What was he going to do to me? Why was I here? Why was I naked? I felt a lump building in my throat. My mouth quivered and my eyes burned as I continued to look at the floor. I felt so shameful. I’d saved myself for marriage. No one was going to see my nakedness other than my future bride. I wanted to live in cleanliness, obedience to God, sexual purity and humility, and now, that was ruined. Here I was, chained up like a sacrifice, with a stranger inspecting my body.

 

He was circling me now. I could hear his boots as he walked behind me, touching my naked butt. “Please....” I wailed out. “I’m saving myself for my bride. I.....I’m a virgin”. The last word came out like a *** whimper. I started to sob. Tears ran freely down my cheeks now. I felt his hands parting my butt cheeks, and I sobbed harder. “Your hole is small, as if it’s never been filled”. His voice was dark and masculine. He let go of my butt and moved in front of me again, forcing my chin up, so I had to look at him once more. Snot and tears ran down my face. I tried to *** myself to stop crying while he was looking at me. “I knew you were saving yourself for marriage, son. That catholic bible school you go to? Where they uphold   chastity and cleanliness so much? I’ve kept my eye on you, little one, so clean and pure and decent. I just knew when I saw you that I just had to have you. You wouldn’t even expose your shoulders in the school grounds, and not one foul word came out of your little mouth. I knew you would be fun to defile”. I shook my head as I cried uncontrollably. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It felt unreal. How can someone speak this way? He let go of my chin again and left me in my chains, walking over to the bag and opened it. He took out what looked like a big, long plastic penis, and something that looked like clamps that was chained together. I was crying so hard I couldn’t speak. He walked over to me and bent down to my chest. My eyes widened and I screamed as the clamps bit down on my nipples and stayed there. The stranger retreated back a few steps and looked down at me in my imprisonment, as if he was enjoying it. He walked behind me again, and I felt something large and plastic like spread my butt cheeks slightly apart. “No! No,no, no! Please! Please don’t! It’s sinful! Not my rectum! Please don’t! It’s a sin! I’m a virgin....” My last repeated word came out like a resigned whisper. He ignored my pleas. “There will be nothing clean or pure about you after this, Will”. With that, he thrust the odd plastic penis inside my rectum. 

 

“You’re my slave now, Will”. How on earth did he know my name? “You’ll never escape or be set free. You will stay here forever and live out your life as my slave and property”. I shook my head and tried to stop crying. I did my best to ignore the sore, constant *** from the clamps pressuring down on my nipples. The *** in my rectum slowly started to subside. The stranger went on, ignoring my protests. “You will call me “Master”, Slave boy. “Will is not your name anymore, that time is past; from now on you’ll simply be known as slave 666”.  I tried to comprehend what he’d just said. “Your number will be branded on your skin, and you will always remember it and never forget what you are”. He walked over to another door, opened it, Took out another pair of handcuffs and came back towards me. Then he loosened the chains that locked my legs to the floor and fastened my ankles together with the new pair of handcuffs. Then he unfastened the chain from the handcuffs around my wrists, pulled me to my feet and led me without a word into the new room. 

 

In the room, was what looked like a stretch bench from the Middle Ages and a fire place with an iron stick protruding from it. The stranger ***d me onto it the bench and fastened my legs and wrists to it. He then went over to the fire place and took out the metal with a red hot iron at its end. I felt the heat from it on my face as he showed it to me: “666” could be seen engraved into the iron, glowing red and menacing. “You will now be branded, slave boy”. I couldn’t understand why this was happening, yet in an odd way I understood what he was about to do. He pressed the white hot iron against the side of my abdomen. I screamed. 

 

Three hours later, I was hanging limply in the chains, kneeling at the floor, again in a restrained state. He’d whipped my back until I was searing with ***. My butt was burning from the belt he’d hit me with. He’d told me it was “slave training. I had no idea what he meant. He told me this was part of my initiation or something, and that the same thing would happen if I was disobedient towards him. He lifted up my chin with his hand and ***d me to look at him, like before. I was too exhausted to resist. “What are you, boy? What is your name?” I didn’t reply. He grabbed my hair and yanked at it ***fully. “I asked”. He said, “what are you? What’s your name?”. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. “What, boy?” At last I spoke. “I’m Will. I’m me”. “We will see about that”. He unbuttoned his pants and took off his boxers. He shoved his penis inside my mouth and ***d me to suck him. It went faster and faster until I heard him give one loud, long moan and something warm and cream like gushed into my mouth. He pulled it out of my mouth and gave me a few moments as he caught his breath. He ***d my chin up and repeated the same question. “What are you, boy?” At last I spoke. I didn’t recognize my voice. It sounded begging, unclean and slutty. “I’m an unclean, sinful, dirty slave boy”. He smiled slightly. “And what I am I, slave?” “My master, sir”. He cupped my face in his hands tenderly. “Good boy. And what’s your name?” “666, master”. Master smiled and freed me from my restrains.

 

Later that day I was on a four poster bed, lying on my side, looking up at my master. My master had cooled down the area around my branded skin with an ice pack and it felt a little better. The number “666” could be seen burnt into my skin. I started to found myself liking what was happening. It felt safe and good to have him with me. “You’ve been good, my slave boy”. He said softly. I felt a rush of pride as Master praised me. “My master, may I say something, please?” “Yes, my slave”. It took a while before I found my words. “You’re my authority. I found it frightening, but I also liked it, even though I had so many feelings and thoughts going through my mind back then. It’s kind of like back at the school, in a way. Only there are real consequences for disobedience and not following orders”. My master smiled. “Good slave boy. I know it was difficult at first, but you’ve been good. I know it was frightening, but like I said I knew that I wanted you. I knew you would be a good slave”. I snuggled up to him in response. “Thank you, master”, I replied, and thanked him by pleasuring him with my mouth and tongue.