By Taurus

Part 15 – “Treats”

Day 194. The day for James’ second pleasure session, and the last day of Riley’s stay.

James awoke to the all too familiar blaring alarm in eager anticipation.

In came through the cell door a slave and two handlers, no doubt Russell and Riley with his handler.

Riley was fully naked, and thrown onto James’ mattress as expected. The slaves were ordered to drink the protein shake breakfast together, and so they did, on all fours and side by side like pigs at a sty. Their teeth were brushed straight after.

What was not expected, however, was the proceedings of the pleasure session itself. Strangely, the slaves were left alone, both without restraints other than chastity, locked in the cell while their handlers left presumably for breakfast.

Regardless, they took the chance to play. They tousled with each other, with a hint of play-fighting – light slapping among a bit of wrestling.

Riley tried his hardest to overpower James with his weight, but James had been training his muscles hard and daily for the past half a year. When Riley got James in a lock, James would pry the other’s arms or legs apart. Reverse the roles, and Riley would flip on his back, squishing James into the floor to force a release.

However, because James had less stamina training and less flexibility, Riley had the upper hand as they wrestled more and more. Smacking Riley was not an option, since he soaked up the hits with glee.

Eventually, James grew bored. He sat back on his mattress, curled in his own arms, ignoring Riley’s invitations to play. The lack of any real goal directed his attention to his cock.

It was annoying him to no end. He could not get soft.

“I should’ve been allowed to cum…”

His handler knows this, right?

Right?

Riley returned a hug, and mustered a response as tactful as he could manage.

“Maybe your handler wants to do something with you.”

“He promised to treat me better than my last handler…”

Silence for the rest of the session. The slaves cuddled and held each other for warmth, both physical and mental.

An hour later, the handlers, this time with a guard, reappeared at the cell door, entering the symmetrical cube from behind the slaves. The naked men spun themselves around as quickly as they could and assumed a kneeling position, back straight, with hands and ankles crossed.

James was gagged and was brought off to one side by Russell who carried a lunch box in addition to James’ lunch, as the both of them witnessed Riley’s handler sit in front of his slave.

“Okay, this is the last interaction we’ll have as handler and slave, so I’ll call you by your name instead of ‘slave’ if it comes up.”

He spoke with remarkable tenderness, completely unreflected in the way he treated Riley in the days prior.

“Yes, sir!”

“We’re gonna take out the electronic modules in your cage per our protocol. But we’ve come to realise that the weight is very attractive to some people, so we can offer to put in a weighted insert. You want it weighted or unweighted?”

Without hesitation, Riley blurted out “Weighted, sir!”.

“Riley, don’t try to please me. You’re going free tomorrow.”

“I like the weight, sir. Could I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Can I change it out after this?”

“It’s difficult if you do it while wearing the cage, but you could if you take it off, or if you have someone to help.”

A brief pause later, Riley decided with confidence that he wanted his cage weighted.

“Alright, understood. You’ve been a good boy all this time, Riley. It’s been great. Say goodbye to your friend before you leave.”

Riley waved at the other slave in the cell, then was blindfolded and gagged per transportation protocol, and escorted out the cell, leaving James and his handler – Russell.

After the door closed shut, James was brought to the centre of the cell, and slapped in the face.

Russell removed his phone from his pocket and played an audio recording.

“‘I should’ve been allowed to cum…’

‘Maybe your handler wants to do something with you.’

‘He promised to treat me better than my last handler…’”

James’ face flushed a beet red.

“I didn’t promise anything. And didn’t I tell you that pleasure sessions don’t always mean you get to cum?”

The frustration – perhaps anger – in Russell’s voice was apparent.

“And worst of all, you weren’t grateful for this reward.”

James whimpered in panic. He shuffled closer to Russell, clinging to his leg.

“No, slave. You’ll be punished, and the handler sessions won’t be as cushy as they once were.

“As they were when you were still a good boy like Riley.”

James shook his head and made more noises in all sorts of tones and pitches. He seemed to be begging for forgiveness?

Russell opened the lunch box he carried, revealing two white buns.

“I made you a treat. Even went to our chef to order new ingredients and learn a new recipe. I thought you were such a good boy. But no, you just had to prove me wrong, and – figures, today as well.

“Destroy your treats.”

James complied. He punched at the buns and spilled their insides – a thick red bean paste – into the lunch box. It was almost gory, like punching defenseless living creatures, and indeed he winced at each blow, as if maiming himself.

The red colour did not help either.

Setting down the food tray before a sobbing James who had his gag and mitts removed, Russell summarised James’ situation: “I’ll stop entertaining your requests until you prove to me you’re a good boy again, and that’ll be in two months.”

“Sorry, sir…”

“That’s what you all say.”

The ensuing silence beckoned James to eat and reflect.

He had lost his chance to cum for another two months. It will be a torturous time to endure, this he knew.

But more importantly, he had disappointed his handler who he loved, and who loved him back. Without Russell’s affection he grew accustomed to, even for a few days, he doubted his ability to stave off the mental breakdown he was, more likely than not, going to have.

Worse even still, he knew all this stemmed from his own insolence.

The breakdown was settling in already. James could barely focus enough to chew his food.

Regardless, he must bear it all, and finish his tray of food in 20 minutes. After all, one still needs strength, even if it is to cry.

Click for next part

Click for previous part

Click to start at Part 1