Twelve Days of Christmas – Part 4

By boyinacage

Part 4 – Exhausted

Exhausted by the explosion from my cock I began itching for release. Instead the first Master came over and held me by the chin. “Gotta go to the airport boy, alpha will make you ready for our guests.” And with that he was gone. The sound of the two of them chatting in German to each other receded into the background.

The bolts drew back and I dropped my head as I felt the anchor points – wrists, ankles, balls, being removed. However, in my double hood, I was at the mercy of alpha. I was roughly pulled out of the cage and pushed onto the floor. Knee pads were slid up my legs and within seconds my legs had been taped to my thighs. A lead was snapped to my collar and with an electric zap to my arse and neck alpha yelled at me to crawl in straight line to the door. The command was followed by a swift and painful lick to the balls.

I yelped into my soft tube gag. The next thing I knew I was grabbed by the head and told to “shut the fuck up” a hard, long dildo styled gag was jammed through the two hoods. As I gagged on this I felt in locked in place. It would appear that gentleness was not alpha’s style. I was then dragged by the lead out the door to the stairs. I know they were stairs because I ran into them.

When you get into a bondage scene at which point do you realise that life was not going to be pretty for the near future. This alpha guy seemed to be holding some sort of grudge by his no holds bar behaviour. Never before had I tried to climb four flights of stairs without the aid of my feet. Each step was a struggle for me to lift the knees, which I had to do by doing a semi-rotation on each step – each step was either assisted by an electric shock or a belt to the balls. The collar was the worst and how many time I slipped down a few steps when zapped in the neck I don’t know – but each time was greeted with a guttural laugh and a whack to the balls.

Tears would have been streaming down my face when I finally made it to the top, except the two hoods were so tight I don’t think it was possible. At the top of the steps I was led into a room and the tape was cut. I was told to stand and a hand helped me climb onto what I presumed was a bench. It turned out that I was close, but no cigar. It was a fuck bench and I was forced into position. Shrink wrap was wound around my legs and thighs. With my stomach pressed flat against the bench I was cocooned onto the bench.

Later, looking at some photos I didn’t recognise myself. All that was visible was the plug sticking out of my arse. The chains on my nipples dangled through holes in the bench – connected to my cock’s padlock, also dangling through a hole. My balls were stretched using a parachute and weights hung on the chains. Of my head, the only thing I could see in the photo was a urinal hood, except I knew that the tube that went into my mouth was wider and longer than the ones I had see on the blackstyle web pages.

When I was fully positioned alpha tested his work by pulling out the plug and riding my arse. It would seem that he held off cumming because when he pulled out there was a small wait before his cum was fed into the hood and washed down with splash of piss. Later I learnt that he had collected it all in a condom and squeezed it out directly into the tube so I wouldn’t miss any.

And then there was nothing. How long I was waiting before I heard the German voices climbing the stairs I don’t know. The voices came into the room. A voice I was familiar with came up to me. As I felt a hand placed on my head I heard him switch to English “this object is here for your sexual gratification, safe sex only. It is not a slave, alpha will have access to it from mid-day to one o’clock for feeding and its other personal functions with the exception of when we’re up at the farm. If it complains, just shove something in its mouth or press either of these two buttons” at which I gurgled into my gag as the collar shot a bolt into me. A second one followed that that was so strong I pissed myself. I heard a laugh “if this bucket gets full, or smelly just tip it down here” at which I found myself drowning in piss that had obviously been poured into the hood. “Sprechen Sie nur englisch, wenn Sie es Sie verstehen wünschen, es tut nicht sprechen Deutsches …”  the conversation reverted to German.

This switching between German and English continued for the whole ten days. The two local guys made their way out of the room, leaving the two Berlin guys to examine their toy. I felt hands run over my body, followed by a whack on the arse as the two chattered away in unintelligible German. Next I started gulping piss as the voice switched from German to English “ und I’ve been dying for a piss for the last six hours” as the stream continued on for what seemed like hours – obviously a full bladder.

At the same time I felt something inserted in my arse. Whatever it was it appeared to allow the second Berlin guy started pissing directly into my arse – because I could begin to feel it fill from the rear. It was a bloody piss enema. When he had finished I felt the tube come out and a plug go in. I felt a hand slap my cock and all went quite. Then I heard the animal sound of sex, it sounded like they hadn’t had sex for years, it sounded so wild and passionate. I lay there listening, uncomfortably full. A while later I heard a shower run, voices chattered in German and then the bedroom door closed. I was forgotten.

They must have gone for dinner because it was some time before they returned. Again I heard the chatter in German.  I received two lots of piss through the hood before the hood was removed altogether. At the same time I felt the plug removed from my arse – the liquid must have squirted out because I was in agony from it staying in there and I felt it leave rapidly. Cocks inserted themselves into either end rammed home. After an age the sex finished. I felt a plug insert itself into my arse and all went quiet.

Nothing is as humiliating as being nothing more than an object. These guys just did as they pleased, neither caring or being interested in what I thought. Was it really my dream to be nothing more than a sex object?


To be continued …



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