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Message-ID: <43434asstr$1058562607@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry)
NNTP-Posting-Date: 18 Jul 2003 17:51:31 GMT
User-Agent:  Xnews/2.09.30
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} SEX DARE: CAN I SUCK YOUR DICK? [B] {Hungry Guy} (MF M/F Mpov Mdom Fsub humil oral ws scat tort viol )
Date: Fri, 18 Jul 2003 17:10:07 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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{ASS} SEX DARE: CAN I SUCK YOUR DICK? [B] {Hungry Guy} (MF M/F Mpov 
Mdom Fsub humil oral ws scat tort viol ) 
BY:  Hungry Guy (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com or 
hungryguy@literotica.org)

Foreword:  This is a work of fiction.  None of the people in this 
story are real.  None of these events ever happened.  This story is 
nothing more than words that came from my imagination.  Any 
similarity to any real people, places, or events is purely 
coincidental. 

Operators of erotic story web sites, whether free or fee-based, have 
my permission to post my stories for public reading, provided that 
credit is given to "Hungry Guy" (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com or 
hungryguy@literotica.org) as the author, and as long as you don't 
make changes other than fixing typos.  Even beware of fixing typos, 
for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged 
by your spell checker.  Thanks.

    ###

    Ned was hanging out at _Crazy Eddie's_ (the bar; not the defunct 
audio dealer) on Friday night after work.   Wearing his favorite 
_Quark's Bar_ tee shirt and jeans, he was leaning against the rail of 
the balcony overlooking the dance floor below as _My Dying Bride_ 
assaulted his ears from the huge Klipsch speakers hanging from the 
ceiling.  

    Being a shy geeky guy, he never had any luck with women -- never 
been laid; never even had a girlfriend.  Occasionally, he would build 
up the courage to ask a girl to dance, but the excuses got more 
bizarre every time: she has to wash her hair first, or she's having 
surgery in the morning, or she has to go home to wash her dog.   

    So Ned didn't come here to meet women -- just to have a drink, 
watch the people, listen to the music, and play a few arcade games 
over in the game room.

    He took a sip of his beer when an attractive woman walked over to 
him, laughing hysterically. 

    "Hi," she said before letting out an explosive laugh.

    "Yeah, what?" he said with deliberate impatience in his voice.

    He looked her over while she took control of her laughing fit.  
She was "hot", as guys would say.  She was tall and athletic-looking, 
slender but not skinny.  Knock-out face, big brown hard eyes, puffy 
lips, and shoulder-length light-brown hair.  Dressed to kill, too, in 
a black tank top and tight jeans with several inches of bare tight 
belly between each.  Her tits weren't huge, but they stood out were 
nice and firm in her tight top.  The little gold ring in her navel 
made for a nice finishing touch.

    He was about to just walk away when she leaned close and 
whispered in his ear, "Can I suck your dick?" and burst out laughing 
again.

    Ned knew when he was being teased, though he had never seen this 
woman before and was wondering why she had it in for him.  He started 
to turn to walk away when she touched his arm.

    "Wait!  Can I?" she asked again and let out a giggle. 

    Ned opened his mouth to start to say, "Fuck you!" but then 
decided not to cause a scene.  He just turned again and tried to walk 
away from the bully.

    She rushed around and stopped in front of him.  "You think 
_giggle_ I'm teasing you, _giggle_ don't you?"

    "Uh, huh!" Ned answered with a tinge of anger in his voice.

    "Look, _giggle_ my friends and I are doing sex dares.  _snort_  
And I got'ta suck your dick or I lose."

    "Really?"

    "Yeah!  Really!  You look like you're here alone.  You're not 
married, or got a girlfriend, or anything, do you?"

    "Uhm, no," he answered defensively. 

    "Then c'mon!  I promise you'll like it! _giggle_"

    "You're really serious?" he asked, not really believing her.

    "Yeah!  I'm fucking serious!" she insisted with a tinge of 
annoyance in her own voice.

    "All right," he answered guardedly.  "Where?  Not right here, I 
hope."

    "Back in one of the private booths," she answered.  

    Ned knew that Crazy Eddie's had a special section lined with 
private booths for small groups.  They were just that, too, booths 
like at a diner where two to four people could to eat, drink, and 
perhaps do other activities, in private.  They were pretty cheap too, 
for about $20, you could have a private booth for the night.  

    "Okay," Ned said again.

    She grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd and stopped 
amid four other women.  "I got him," she told the others.

    "Okay," one of the other women said, "we'll be waiting right 
here, Paula."

    Another of the woman looked at him and asked, "What's your name?"

    "Ned," he answered, and, for some reason, that drew a combined 
laugh from all of them.

    "C'mon, Ned," Paula said as she pulled him away from her friends. 

    Paula led Ned over to the door where a bouncer stood guard.  The 
bouncer, apparently recognizing Paula, let them through into the 
private section.  

    Ned suddenly panicked.  What if this woman was going to rob him, 
or worse -- how often does a woman just up and ask a strange guy if 
she can suck his dick?

    "What's the matter?" she asked.  

    "Nothing," he answered.

    "Don't worry.  I won't hurt you!  Promise!"

    Ned followed Paula down a corridor lined with frosted glass 
windows and doors, ensuring privacy for the occupants, then around a 
corner with another corridor with more of the same.  She stopped in 
front of booth 42 and opened the door.  Inside was a tiny carpeted 
room with cushioned wooden bench seats against each side wall.  The 
table was folded up against the back wall.  

    Closing and locking the door, Paula said, "Okay, boy, drop 'em!"

    "Drop what?" Ned asked, his voice squeaking.

    "Your pants, silly."

    "Look," Ned said, smiling at her, "you don't really have to suck 
my dick for a dare.  I'll tell your friends you did it anyway."

    "What?  You don't want it?  You gay or something?" she asked with 
slight annoyance. 

    "No!  I'm not gay!" Ned said defiantly.

    "So, c'mon, then!" she urged.  "Look, that was nice of you, but I 
got to show my friends your cum in my mouth." 

    Ned swallowed and unbuckled his jeans.  He let them drop and then 
fingered the waistband of his briefs as he felt his face turn red.

    Paula kneeled in front of Ned and looked up at him.  "C'mon!  
Don't be shy!  Let me see it!" she urged with a smile.

    Ned pulled his briefs down, letting them fall to his feet onto 
his jeans, showing her his limp cock. 

    "Oh, so you're going to make me work for it, huh?" she asked with 
a smirk.

    "Sorry, but I'm really nervous," he said.

    "You're nervous?  You!  Jeez!" she said as she grabbed his limp 
member with her right hand.  She thumbed it back and forth a few 
times, bringing it slightly to life.

    Ned gasped when she next opened her mouth and leaned forward, 
engulfing his member and closing her lips at its base.

    She began bobbing her head back and forth, sliding his cock in 
and out.  He felt his cock grow quickly hard at this treatment.  She 
continued sucking, and he cautiously rested his hands on her head and 
then ran his fingers through her thick soft brown hair.  She didn't 
seem to object as she continued bobbing and sucking.

    Ned felt the pressure build in his loins as she continued her 
assault.  Not only was she sliding his cock back and forth, she was 
also sucking and swirling it with her tongue.  Oh man, that felt so 
good!  

    The pressure built up quickly, but he was enjoying this so much 
that tried to hold his climax in check.  But when she slid her tongue 
against the base of his cock-head and pressed the tip of her tongue 
gently into his pee hole, spreading the opening slightly, it was more 
than he could stand.  He finally exploded into her mouth.  His cock 
throbbed and his body quaked as he squirted wad after wad into 
Paula's mouth, splattering against her tongue and against the back of 
her throat, while he moaned, "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"  

    His cock finally shot its last wad as Ned sighed, "Wow!"

    Paula slid her mouth off Ned's cock and stood.

    "That felt so good!" he told her.

    She shrugged in answer as cum oozed from her lips.  Then she 
rushed out the door and disappeared down the hall.  

    Ned started to pull his briefs and jeans back up, but hesitated 
when he realized what a cummy mess his cock was.  Looking around for 
a paper napkin or tissue, he saw none, so he just pulled them up and 
buckled his belt.  _Wow!  What a once-in-a-lifetime experience!_  

    He opened the door, wondering where his new girlfriend went.  He 
looked up and down the corridor, but it was vacant, so he closed the 
door and waited for her to return for him.  

    After about ten minutes, the door opened.  One of Paula's friends 
was with some tall skinny guy with thick black glasses who was 
wearing a Play Station tee shirt.  

    "What are you still doing here?" she asked.  

    "I'm waiting for Paula to come back," he answered.

    "Oh.  Paula's probably out in the bar looking for you," she said 
with a giggle.

    "Thanks," Ned said to them, and left the booth.  He returned to 
the balcony but couldn't see Paula or her other friends anywhere.  

    He walked up to the railing and looked down on the crowd below.  
_Ah  There she is,_ seeing Paula and her friends over at the food 
window getting Pizza.

    He struggled through the crowd down the stairs over to the food 
window and over to Paula.  Paula gave him an icy stare as he walked 
up to her with a big grin on his face.

    "Hi," he said to her, "I was waiting for you up on the room.  I 
didn't know you were waiting down here."

    "Get lost, creep!" she scolded him.

    "What?" he squeaked.  "Paula?  What happened?  Why are you mad at 
me now?" 

    "You got your blowjob," she hissed at him.  "Now get the fuck 
away from me!"

    Her remaining friends stepped between Ned and Paula.  One of them 
said, "You heard her, dork!  Get lost!"

    Another said, "Isn't _Star Trek_ on now?  Go home!  You're 
missing it!" and broke out into obscene laughter.

    Ned backed away from the women as tears welled up in his eyes.  
Of course _Star Trek_ was on now -- didn't those bitches know what a 
VCR was for?  With his head down so that no one in the bar could see 
him crying, he rushed toward the door and out to his station wagon.  

    He got in the car and started the engine, but just sat there 
crying.  But after a while his sorrow turned to anger.  

    He backed his car out, but instead of leaving, he drove farther 
to the back of the lot where the asphalt was cracked and uneven, and 
was poorly lit.  He shut off the engine and went to the rear of his 
station wagon.  He lowered the tailgate and tugged on a black trunk 
that he hadn't opened in years and stored it in his car for lack of 
anywhere else convenient to store the bulky thing.  He opened the 
trunk and sorted through the items within.  About ten minutes later 
he was costumed as the most loathsome of performers: a mime.  He then 
grabbed some jump ropes to use as props. 

    He had won second prize in some college contest for this act many 
years ago, and hoped he hadn't become rusty.  He also hoped that the 
popular misconception that being a nerd equaled being a klutz worked 
in his favor. 

    In black pants, prison-striped shirt, bright green hair, face 
covered with white stage makeup, floppy hobo shoes, and big red nose, 
he went over to the entrance of the bar and began his act.  As people 
came and left the bar, he danced on the sidewalk pretending to be 
trapped inside a glass box.  A small crowd of people started to 
collect around him, even though the crowd changed faces every few 
minutes. 

    In a moment of panic, he though that the bouncers who exited the 
bar at one time were going to chase him away, but they just watched 
and laughed for a few minutes before returning back inside.

    He grew tired as the hours passed, but he didn't do anything 
really tiring during his patient wait.  Besides, it was a rush 
entertaining people and drawing a crowd in public.

    His reward finally appeared.  Paula and the others came out of 
the bar

    He had, at the ready, an allergy inhaler attached to a small 
helium canister.  Pretending to have a momentary shortness of breath, 
he took a couple of whiffs, then he launched into his second act.  He 
picked up the jump rope and began doing tricks. 

    He realized that his plan wasn't foolproof.  In fact, he knew his 
effort would probably be for nothing, but it was worth a shot.  

    Fortunately, Paula and her friends stopped to watch.  He was 
relieved that his jump rope skills came back to him.  

    He was careful not to pay much attention to Paula and even played 
up to some other women on the other side of him coming from the 
parking lot toward the bar.  While keeping an eye on Paula and her 
friends, he played up to the rest of the crowd deliberately ignoring 
his targets.   

    Then, as Paula and her friends lost interest and started to move 
toward the parking lot, he "accidentally" let it brush against 
Paula's leg as she walked past, whereupon he feigned a fall to the 
ground flat on his face.

    Phew, the first, easy, part of his plan worked.  Next, it 
depended on the bitch having at least a tiny bit of a heart, which he 
doubted.  

    "OhmyGod!" Paula screamed and kneeled down to him.  "I'm so 
sorry!  Are you all right?" she shrieked.

    "Oof!" he spoke in his helium-induced cartoon voice.  "You should 
watch your step, young woman!"

    "Oh dear, I'm sorry, sir," she repeated.  

    To his frustration, everybody else was crowding in, "Let me 
help..."  "Do you need help?"  "Here, let help you..."

    To Paula, he just squeaked, "I just twisted my ankle.  I'll be 
okay.  Can you just help me to my car?"

    "Sure, no problem." she agreed.  

    To his relief, her friends said, "We'll wait for you at the car, 
Paula."  

    Ned picked up his ropes and put his arm across Paula's shoulder, 
and she put her arm around his waist.  He then limped through the 
parking lot to his car, assisted by Paula.  

    By the time they reached the rear of the lot, no one else was 
around.  He limped up to the rear of the wagon holding onto Paula.  
He turned the handle, letting the tailgate drop.  Then in a deft 
sequence that he had played out in his mind over and over again while 
he was miming for the past hour, he placed Paula between himself and 
the tailgate, and pushed her in.  She fell on her back and he quickly 
jumped on her and tied her ankles with the rope.

    "Hey!" she screamed.  He quickly climbed onto her body and 
crawled up to her head.  He sat his ass right on her face to keep her 
quiet and then tied her hands with the other rope.

    While remaining on her face, as her arms flailed and her body 
bucked, he reached into his trunk and pulled out a few more ropes.  
He then tied her wrists to her ankles, forcing her into a fetal 
position.  He removed one more rope.  He tied a knot into the middle, 
then tied that knot into a bigger knot.  He got off her face and 
shoved that big knot into her mouth and then tied the rope tightly 
around the back of her head.  

    Finally he covered her with a couple of blankets that kept in his 
car for emergencies.  

    He closed the tailgate and got in front and started the engine.

    Being a nerd had its advantages in other ways.  He often used the 
short dirt road that led from the rear of the parking lot to a back 
road to avoid the traffic on the main street.  Few people used or 
even seemed to know about the rear exit.  It seemed that such small 
details of the world are the exclusive agency of geekdom. 

    He slowly left the lot via the back road, without even turning 
his lights on until after he got onto the road.  

    He made his way down the back road onto a side street, and pulled 
onto the main street a few blocks away from the bar.  Once on the 
main street, he slid _Misanthrope_ into the CD player and cranked 
_Rest In Pieces._  

    He arrived home about a half-hour later and pulled into his 
garage.   

    He dropped the tailgate and pulled the shaking and terrified 
woman out by her ankles and let her fall to the concrete floor with a 
_thud!_

    He pulled her over the threshold by her ankles into his kitchen, 
then slid her headfirst partly above the first step to his basement.  
Then, ensuring he had a good grip on her ankles, he pushed her over 
the step, and slowly walked down the steps letting her bound and 
gagged body slide down the steps, one by one. 

    Once to the basement floor, he unlocked a door, dragged her into 
finished room, and turned on the light, revealing a BDSM-lover's 
dream dungeon.  He pulled her to the middle of the floor and hooked a 
pair of suspension cuffs to her ankles.  Then he pressed a button on 
the wall to lower a thin steel cable from a winch in the middle of 
the ceiling and hooked it to the cuffs.  Lastly, he pressed an 
adjacent button, until she was completely suspended, upside-down, 
from the ceiling.  

    She looked comical, hanging by her ankles, with her wrists and 
ankles bound together with rope, and a rope tied around her head with 
a knot in her mouth.  The only noise she made, could make, was a 
barely audible, "Mmmm!  Mmmmm!"

    At that, he yawned and looked at his watch.  He turned off the 
light, locked the door behind him, and returned upstairs. 

    He took a quick shower and went to bed, pleased to finally have a 
girlfriend.

    ###

    Though he usually liked to sleep late on weekends, he woke early 
Saturday morning to play with his new toy.

    Skipping breakfast, he headed downstairs and unlocked his 
dungeon.  

    There it was, still hanging upside down grunting and swinging 
wildly, as if that would help it.

    He saw its eyes go wide in recognition as it saw his face for the 
first time (or was it the second time?) without his mime makeup on.

    He sniffed the air as he walked up to it, "What stinks?" he asked 
aloud as he stood next to it.

    "Mmmmmm!  Mmmmmmm!  Mmmmmmm!" it replied,

    "Your clothes are soaked," he said noticing that its clothes were 
wet from its crotch down its chest.  Then he noticed its hair 
dripping onto a small yellow puddle directly under its head.   

    "You pissed yourself?  You worthless slab of female meat!" he 
yelled at it.  Then he kicked it in the side of the head, not hard 
enough to break anything, but hard enough to hurt.

    Then he untied the ropes that bound its wrists to its ankles and 
let its arms drop down.  Next, he untied its wrists from each other.  
Then, he untied the rope that tied its ankles together, leaving it 
still dangling by its ankles by the ankle cuffs.  Then he untied the 
rope from around its head.

    "You fucking bastard!  Who the fuck do you think you are?" it 
screamed at him.

    He kicked it in the head again, saying, "Shut up, slut!  You make 
another sound and I'll kick you in the head so hard your skull will 
crack!"

    He then grabbed its tank top and yanked, ripping it off.  Then he 
ripped its bra off, letting its boobs hang upside-down pointing down 
to its chin.

    Its jeans were too thick to just rip off with his bare hands, so 
he took a scalpel and sliced them down the outside of each leg.  Then 
he ripped its panties off. 

    He walked over to the other end of the room and pulled out a 
garden hose.  Dragging the hose over, he began rinsing it off with 
the icy cold water, letting the water drain into a drain in the floor 
directly under its head.

    "C-c-c-cold!" it shivered.

    "What did I say about talking, cunt?" he asked as he kicked it 
again, harder this time, but still not hard enough to break its 
skull.

    "Please," it begged, "don't kick me again.  Please!  I'll be your 
girlfriend.  I'll give you blowjobs every day.  Just let me down.  
Please!"

    This time, he kicked it in the head without even answering.

    As it swung back and forth from his last kick to its head, he 
unzipped his pants, pulled his dick out, and pissed on it, aiming 
down at its chest and chin. 

    It immediately began coughing and sputtering when he managed to 
direct the stream directly into one of its upward-pointing nostrils. 

    "Get used to it, slut!" he yelled.  "You're mine now!  Your body 
is my fuck toy from now on!  You'll remain naked at all times while 
at home.  The only time you'll ever wear clothes again will be if I 
take you out for some reason."

    Ned returned upstairs and logged on to his computer.  While he 
had built a well-equipped dungeon, he hadn't anticipated owning a 
genuine non-consensual slave.  He had to order a lot of additional 
bondage gear from assorted BDSM suppliers to train and control it.

    Ned had wondered if there would be news of a missing woman over 
the next few days.  Indeed, there was tragic news.  A car full of 
young women out for a night on the town had lost control late at 
night and plunged 200 feet off a bridge and burst into flames at the 
bottom of a ravine leading to the harbor.  

    The news was showing recent photographs of the five victims, 
Corinne, Fran, Paula, Sue, and Wendy.  Of the five women, only three 
bodies were recovered.  All three were burned beyond recognition.  
The driver was trapped inside the car, while the four passengers had 
been blown out of the car when the gas tank exploded.  One burnt body 
was found on the bank not too far from the point of impact.  Another 
was found washed up about a mile away.  A few burnt body parts were 
scattered around the scene.  Police found empty beer bottles and drug 
paraphernalia in the vehicle.  While inconclusive due to the badly 
burned bodies, autopsies had suggested that all three had been 
intoxicated at the time of the crash.  The two other women were never 
found and were presumed washed out to sea with the tide.  Sharks had 
also been spotted in the bay, perhaps attracted to the scent of meat 
and blood.

    Reporters nosing around the bar they were last seen at spoke of a 
mime show that night, but the women, themselves, were faceless and 
nameless bar patrons whom no one remembered. 

    Ned's conscience had been troubled a little, but only a little, 
by what he was doing to his captive.  The news comforted him, in a 
morbid way, in knowing that, had he not captured and enslaved it, it 
would have died a gruesome death with its four friends in that fiery 
crash.

    The next couple of weeks passed uneventfully while he waited for 
his new supplies.  In the meantime, he occasionally lowered it onto a 
large table, shackled it down spread-eagle, climbed on top of it, and 
fucked it.  Sometimes, he would put on a rubber and fuck it in its 
cunt.  But since rubbers were messy and dulled the sensation, he 
would, more often, climb on it with his hips over its face and fuck 
it in the mouth.  Bearing down under the full weight of his body by 
his crotch on its jaw, his cock jammed deep down its throat, it would 
buck wildly as he rode it.  And occasionally, he would strap it down 
on its chest, lubricate its ass thoroughly with KY jelly, and fuck it 
in the asshole.  He slapped it, whipped it, or kicked it, if it tried 
to speak or make any sounds, and it learned to remain silent.

    When he wasn't fucking it, it remained hanging from its ankles.  
He fed it water and dog food once each day.  He also rinsed its piss, 
and his piss, off it every couple of days. 

    When the last of his orders had arrived, he opened all his 
packages on a table in his dungeon and spread everything out.  He 
spent several hours mounting electronic equipment around the room, 
then he placed several leather garments in a drawer. 

    The next thing he did was to place a special electronic collar 
around Fuck's neck, and hook a padlock though the buckle.

    "Bitch," Ned said to it.  

    It looked up at him in silence, and he smiled down at it.

    "Say something," he ordered its.

    "Wha...  Aaaaa!  Aaaaaaa!  Aaaaaaa..." it screamed.

    "Quiet!" he ordered.  "That's what'll happen if you utter a 
sound.  And the pain will continue until you are silent."

    It silenced its screaming, yet panted heavily as if trying to 
catch its breath.

    "One more thing," he said.  "See this fob in my hand?"  

    It nodded a yes.

    "Watch."  

    He pressed a button on the fob.

    "Aaaaa!  Aaaaaaa!" it screamed.

    "That's what'll happen if you disobey me," he said to it.

    "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

    "You're forgetting the pain will continue for as long as you make 
noise."

    Again, it stopped screaming, and returned to panting.

    "Good toy!" he said.  "Oh?  Didn't I tell you I'm changing your 
name?  Your name is now Fucktoy, because that's what you are.  You 
are nothing more than a fuck toy, a cheap object that exists only for 
my amusement.  Now, in a minute, I'm going to let you down.  But 
there's something you should know first.  Not only do you get pain 
for talking or if I press this button; you also get pain if you get 
too far away from that transmitter on the wall, or if you walk 
through that door.  Do you understand?"

    It nodded yes.

    "That's not good enough, Fucktoy.  When I ask a question, you 
must answer, 'yes' or 'no'.  The pain will only last a second, unless 
you start screaming."

    Fucktoy swallowed and opened its mouth to answer, but it only 
began quaking in fear.

    "Answer my question, Fucktoy," he said and pressed the button.

    "Aaaaaaa!" it screamed. 

    "I'm going to hold this button down until I hear you answer my 
question, Fucktoy."

    "Aaaaaaaayyyyeesss!" it screamed and then closed its mouth.

    "Good toy, but next time, I'll expect a simple 'yes' or no' 
without any screaming.  Do you understand?"

    Fucktoy paused before yelping out a quick, "Yes," and twitching 
and gasping for breath.

    "Excellent, Fucktoy!" he told it.

    Next, Ned lowered Fucktoy down onto the floor.  With its ankles 
still shackled together, he grabbed its wrist and led it, hobbling, 
over to a gurney.

    "Lay on this table, Fucktoy," Ned told it.

    Fucktoy lay on the table, naked except for the collar.  Ned then 
shackled Fucktoy to the table by its wrists and ankles then strapped 
it down with several belts.  He went over to one of his recently 
opened packages and removed some new implements.  Then he returned to 
its side and pushed its head down sideways.  

    "Now, Fucktoy," he told it, "I'm going to mark you as my 
property.  It's going to hurt like a son of a bitch, but remember 
what'll happen if you make any noise, okay?"

    Fucktoy closed its eyes and nodded as a tear dropped from its eye 
down the side of its head.  

    With scalpel in hand, Ned carved a stylized "NED" in Fucktoy's 
right cheek.  He actually made two strokes for each line of the 
design, resulting in a V-gouge for each mark of the design.  

    It took a while, because Fucktoy occasionally bucked at the pain, 
and he also had to wipe its blood off.  After about an hour of slow 
painstaking work, Ned finally completed placing his mark on Fucktoy's 
cheek.  

    Yet, he wasn't finished.  Next, Ned carved in block letters, 
"Fucktoy, property of, Ned" on its left arm just below its shoulder.

    Ned placed bandages on its cheek and shoulder, went upstairs, and 
called it a day. 

    The following day, Ned returned to his dungeon.  He removed the 
bandages from Fucktoy's cheek and shoulder.  Next, Ned took a high-
power soldering iron, and let it get hot.  After the iron had got 
good and hot, he traced the design on Fucktoy's cheek and his writing 
on its shoulder.

    Afterward, Ned told it, "Fucktoy, you were very well behaved.  I 
have a reward for you."

    Fucktoy looked up at him with a smile.  

    It got on the table and lay down as instructed.

    Ned pulled out a gigantic dildo and a leather harness.  He 
pressed the dildo to Fucktoy's asshole and slowly pushed it in, 
deeper and deeper.

    Fucktoy began crying in pain, "Please -- sir -- hurts!  I -- beg 
-- you -- no!"

    Ned slapped Fucktoy on the back of the head and then pushed the 
monster dildo up its ass with one final shove.

    Next, Ned took a leather harness and wrapped it around Fucktoy's 
hips and between its legs, clipping it to the end of the huge dildo 
so that Fucktoy couldn't shit the dildo out. 

    "Now," Ned said, "I'm going to use my fuck toy as a cum sponge."

    A long time ago, Ned had ordered a custom-made leather harness 
from a BDSM web site.  He had never dared hope that he would ever get 
actually use it, but he eagerly rooted through his BDSM gear until he 
found it.  But first, Ned grabbed an adult diaper and put it on 
Fucktoy.

    "Now get off the table and squat in front of me, you worthless 
example of womankind," he ordered it.

    First Ned clamped a jaw-spreader into Fucktoy's mouth, turning 
the bolt until its mouth was stretched open impossibly wide.

    Then Ned placed his custom harness over Fucktoy's head.  He 
buckled the belts until it fit snug, holding the cock-ring over 
Fucktoy's mouth.  

    Another harness hung loose, attached to that same cock-ring, 
dangling from Fucktoy's chin.  Ned stepped into the second harness, 
sliding his cock through the cock-ring into Fucktoy's gaping mouth.  
He buckled the harness around his hips and between his legs, holding 
his cock snugly inside Fucktoy's mouth.

    Ned entered a code on his fob so that Fucktoy could leave the 
dungeon without getting shocked.  Then, with Fucktoy's mouth snugly 
attached to his cock, he slowly walked out of the dungeon and up 
stairs, pushing it to crawl on its legs in front of him.

    Ned walked into the kitchen, nuked a pizza, grabbed a case of 
Guinness, and finally made his way into his living room.

    He settled down on the sofa and turned on the _Star Trek_ 
marathon on TNN.

    He ate his pizza and drank beer after beer as countless battles 
raged on TV between Klingons, Romulans, Borg, Ferengi,  and others 
throughout the night.   

    Ned didn't remember when he fell asleep, but he woke the next 
morning with a splitting hangover.  Empty bottles of beer littered 
his coffee table, and the _Star Trek_ marathon had been replaced with 
a _Gary The Rat_ marathon something during the morning. 

    "Oh man!" he muttered as he started to stand, but fell back being 
that Fucktoy's mouth was still firmly strapped to his cock by that 
custom dual harness, with her head between his thighs on the sofa 
cushion.  

    "On your knees, cunt," he ordered it and tried to stand again.

    "Eww!" he muttered as he stepped into a moist spot between her 
legs.   

    "You stupid bitch!" he yelled at it.  "You pissed on the carpet!"

    Ned unbuckled Fucktoy's mouth from his cock and told it to get 
out the carpet cleaner and clean the carpet while he got himself some 
aspiring and a bite to eat.

    "Change your loaded diaper while you're at it too, worthless slab 
of meat!" he also told it. 

    After Fucktoy had cleaned the carpet, he brought it back down to 
the dungeon and hung it by its ankles and then returned to bed.

    He returned to the dungeon the following day to play with his 
fuck toy again.  He lowered it, and released its ankles from the 
shackles.  He even removed the harness around its waist and removed 
the giant dildo from its asshole.

    "I have a special treat for my fuck toy," he told it, and it 
smiled back at him.  

    "No more dog food and water.  From now on you get special food 
made by my body."  

    Ned hadn't fed Fucktoy solid food since before the _Star Trek_ 
marathon yesterday, and knew that it must be starving, and maybe even 
thirsty. 

    "Are you thirsty, Fucktoy?" Ned asked.

    "Yes," it squeaked and grimaced. 

    "Then take a seat at this table," Ned told it.  He took a plastic 
cup and plate out of a cabinet and set them on the table in front of 
Fucktoy.  He also set a plastic knife, fork, and spoon next to the 
plate.  He then unzipped his pants, took the cup, held the cup under 
his cock, pissed into the cup.

    "Here you go, Fucktoy," he said as he handed it the cup, "you may 
drink this."

    Fucktoy looked to be in shock as it took the cup from Ned's hand.  
"Now, Fucktoy.  What do you say for such a precious gift from your 
owner?"

    "Thank," it gasped, followed by, "you -- sir."

    "Now drink it, Fucktoy," Ned told it.

    Fucktoy raised the cup to its lips and drank Ned's pee once 
again.

    Fucktoy's stomach growled at that moment, and Ned asked, "Are you 
hungry, Fucktoy?" 

    Fucktoy hesitated a second before squeaking, "Yes."

    "All right, Fucktoy, give me a minute to prepare your dinner," 
Ned answered.

    Ned went over to one corner of his dungeon and slid out one of 
those portable toilet chairs that old people use.  He rinsed out the 
bowl under the toilet seat and replaced it.  Ned then pulled down his 
pants and took a seat.  After a few minutes of grunting, a foul odor 
filled the dungeon.  Ned stood, wiped his ass and tossed the toilet 
paper into the trash and removed the bowl from under the chair.  He 
emptied the contents of the bowl onto that plastic plate.  

    "Here's your dinner, Fucktoy.  Let me refresh your drink."  

    Ned picked up the cup, unzipped his pants, squirted a few more 
drops of piss into it, and set it back down on the table.

    "There you go, Fucktoy.  Enjoy your dinner," Ned said.  

    Fucktoy just sat there with its mouth agape and its eyes open 
wide.  It kept looking back and forth up at Ned and down at the plate 
full of his shit.

    "Go ahead, Fucktoy," Ned urged.  "Eat your dinner."

    Ned picked up the fob and motioned to press the button.  

    Fucktoy immediately picked up a knife and fork, and cut a tiny 
slice of shit off the pile of turds on its plate.

    Fucktoy grimaced as it raised the turd to its mouth on the fork 
and bit it off the fork.  Fucktoy chewed a little then swallowed, and 
then looked as if it was about to puke.

    With pain-fob in hand, Ned urged it, "Go on Fucktoy, take another 
bite of your dinner."

    Fucktoy cut another slice of turd and ate it.   

    "Take a drink if you need to, Fucktoy," Ned suggested.  It lifted 
the cup and took a sip of piss to wash down the last bits of turd.

    "Okay, Fucktoy," I'll leave you to finish your dinner.  "By the 
way," Ned added as he opened the door. "I have a camera in this 
room," pointing to a camera hanging from the ceiling, "and you'll be 
punished if you don't finish your dinner."

    At that, he left the dungeon, locking the door behind him, and 
returned upstairs.

    The following day, Ned reviewed the surveillance tape and 
observed that Fucktoy ate its dinner.  He then returned to the 
dungeon carrying a pen and pad of yellow legal paper.

    "Fucktoy," he told it as he handed it the pad and paper, "You are 
to write on this paper one thousand times, "I am a worthless turd of 
female meat."

    Fucktoy took the pen and paper, answering, "yes -- sir."

    "I'll be back later, and you had better be finished," he told it.

    That evening, Ned returned as Fucktoy was finishing its 
assignment.

    "You're not done yet, cunt?" Ned asked in anger.

    "One -- more -- page -- sir," it begged.

    "Very well," Ned answered and sat.  He took the fob in hand and 
held the button down. 

    "Aaaaaaa!" Fucktoy screamed.

    "I'll release the button when you finish your assignment."

    Fucktoy struggled, shaking and shivering, and put the pen to the 
paper and struggled to continue writing. 

    It took nearly an hour for Fucktoy to finish that last page and 
hand it to Ned.

    Ned held the button down as he counted the pages, checking that 
all 32 lines on each page were used.   

    Ned counted 32 full pages, for 1024 times having written the 
line, and then released the button.

    Fucktoy fell to the floor panting.

    "Well?" he demanded.

    "Thank -- you -- sir," Fucktoy leaned up and answered.

    "As your reward for completing your assignment, I have good news 
for you, Fucktoy." 

    Fucktoy smiled up at him.

    "I'll be feeding you fresh from the source from now on."

    Ned pulled out another contraption from a storage room off the 
dungeon.  It was a 6'-long 6"-high padded platform with a wooden 
toilet mounted on one end.  Ned unlatched some latches on the wooden 
toilet and swung it up and over.  

    "Lay down in that, Fucktoy," he told it.

    Fucktoy sat on the platform and lay back, setting its head in the 
half-open box.  Ned closed the box over its head, framing its face in 
the toilet seat.  Ned latched the box closed, then shackled Fucktoy's 
wrists and ankles to the platform.

    "Man, I gotta shit bad," Ned said, and sat on the toilet.  He 
squirmed around a little until he had positioned his asshole directly 
over Fucktoy's mouth.

    He grunted and pushed out a lump of shit.  It oozed through his 
anus, through Fucktoy's lips into its mouth.  He took another breath 
and pushed out another log.  Then another.  Then another.  

    Fucktoy had started to buck and struggle in the shackles.  

    "Stop struggling, Fucktoy!  I'm not done yet."

    Ned figured that its lungs must be screaming for air by then, so 
he squeezed out one last little turd, and lifted his ass off its 
face.

    Fucktoy began panting and catching its breath as soon as Ned 
stood.  A moment later, Ned sat back down on its face, this time, he 
slid his dick into its mouth.  He pissed and then stood.

    "What do you say, Fucktoy," Ned asked it.

    "Thank -- you -- sir," it gasped out. 

    He left Fucktoy locked in the toilet bench for the rest of the 
week and used it as his toilet regularly.  

    Later that week, Ned had Fucktoy sit in a chair by the sink in 
the dungeon.  Producing a box of hair care products, he cut its hair 
short like a man's haircut.   Then he washed and bleached its hair, 
including its eyebrows.  

    The following day, he repeated the procedure, but instead of 
bleaching its hair and eyebrows, he dyed it a punk green.

    During the week, Ned stopped at _Home Depot_ on his way home from 
work one evening.  He purchased four 1/4" brass eyebolts, related 
brass washers and nuts, and an extra-long 1/4" drill bit.  When he 
arrived home, he filed one small groove down the threads of each 
eyebolt.  Then he placed the hardware in his Autocalve. 

    The following day, he went down to his dungeon where he had left 
Fucktoy manacled to the Saint Andrew's cross overnight.  He released 
it from the cross and told it to lie on the table.  He removed the 
sterilized hardware from his Autoclave and set them on a sterilized 
towel in preparation for surgery.  Then he placed Fucktoy's arm and 
hand in two wooden clamps.  He inserted the bit in his power drill 
and held the bit to Fucktoy's arm just above its wrist.  Fucktoy 
screamed as Ned drilled a 1/4" hole through its skin, through its 
radius bone, and out the other side of its arm.  As blood gushed out, 
he slid one of the eyebolts through the hole in Fucktoy's wrist, with 
the eyebolt on the upper side of its arm and with a nut and washer at 
each end.  He tightened the nuts and brushed some super glue between 
each of the two washers and Fucktoy's skin to act like liquid suture.   
The groove in the screw thread would keep the bolt from turning once 
the bone grew back around it.  He repeated the procedure to Fucktoy's 
other arm.  Then he mounted the two remaining eyebolts through its 
tibia bones with the eyebolt on the outside of each of its ankles.  

    In the future, Ned would be able to shackle Fucktoy to the cross 
with the eyebolts in its wrists and ankles instead of using flimsy 
leather cuffs.

    Next Friday evening, Ned brought some clothing down to his 
dungeon.  First, he washed Fucktoy off with the hose as he regularly 
did.  Then he handed Fucktoy the clothing, a narrow black halter-top, 
a skimpy black skirt, black socks, and black shoes.

    "Put these on, Fucktoy," he told it, "we're going out."

    Fucktoy picked up the garments and looked puzzled.  "Panties?" it 
gasped.

    "Nope!  No underwear, Fucktoy."  

    Fucktoy pulled the skirt up, and then pulled the halter over its 
shoulders.  It then sat on a stool and put the shoes on.

    "Looking good, Fucktoy!" he told it.

    Fucktoy then started pointing to its legs.

    "What are you doing, Fucktoy?" Ned asked.

    "Shave -- legs," it gasped. 

    "Oh yeah, your legs have become a little hairy, I see."  

    Fucktoy nodded yes.

    "Well, hairy legs don't bother me, Fucktoy.  In fact, in Europe, 
women don't shave their legs at all."

    Ned picked up a leash from a table and hooked it to Fucktoy's 
collar. "Now come along." 

    Fucktoy hesitated as Ned stepped through the door.

    "Oh, I forgot to tell you.  I'm carrying a special transmitter."  
He pointed to what looked like a pager hanging on his belt.  "As long 
as you stand within about ten feet of me, you'll be able to leave 
this room."

    Ned continued to lead Fucktoy upstairs and out to his car.  

    Ned drove across town to the Galleria Mall.  

    Once inside the mall, Ned wandered through the crowd leading 
Fucktoy by its leash.  Ned smiled inwardly as people gawked at the 
sight.  

    Ned stopped at a fashion store that had mannequins on display 
wearing ultra-skimpy bikinis.  That gave Ned an idea.  He led Fucktoy 
into the store to the swimwear rack.  

    A salesgirl approached and asked Fucktoy, "Can I help you?"

    Ned answered, "I'm looking for some bikinis like on display in 
front." 

    "Are they for you," she asked Fucktoy. 

    "Yes," Ned answered.

    It was then that the salesgirl seemed to notice that Ned was 
holding a leash attached to Fucktoy's collar, and that Fucktoy had a 
brand on its cheek and shoulder, and that it had brass bolts embedded 
in each of its wrists.

    "Oh!" the salesgirl said to Ned.  "Sorry, I'm a little into BDSM 
too, so I'm cool with you guys," she whispered.  "What size is she?" 
she asked Ned. 

    "34-28-34," Ned answered.

    "Then a size nine or ten should fit her."

    The salesgirl flipped through the rack of bikinis and handed a 
few to Ned.

    "Do you like these?" she asked Ned.

    "Hmm, yes," he picked one out of each color, "I like this one, 
and this one, and this one."

    "Good choices.  They'll look good on her," she told him.

    "Okay, I'll take them."

    "Good, follow me to the register, sir."

    Ned paid for the bikinis, and handed the bag to Fucktoy.

    "Thank -- you -- sir," it whispered. 

    Ned then led Fucktoy to a game store full of billiard tables, 
chess tables, home bar furniture, and so forth.  He stopped and 
examined the darts and dartboards.  He picked out a couple of boxes 
of dart as a salesman walked up to them and asked, "Can I help you 
folks?"

    Ned answered, "I just want to buy a set of darts."

    "We have two types.  There's the traditional steel-tipped darts 
that you have in your hand.  Then there's the plastic safety darts.  
Are you a beginner or an experienced player?"

    "I'm a beginner, but I know what I want," Ned answered holding up 
his intended purchases.

    "Very well.  For those, you'll need a bristle board like one of 
those," he said pointing to some dartboards hanging on the wall.  

    "I already have a dartboard," Ned said to the salesman, grinning 
at Fucktoy. 

    "Uhm, yeah," said the salesman, "Let me know if you need any 
help."  Then he walked away.

    Ned took his selections up to the register, paid for them, and 
left the store, handing the package to Fucktoy.   

    Ned walked down the mall to the food court and got in line at the 
Chinese counter.  He ordered a plate of lo mein and then took a seat 
at a table.

    As they were eating, a woman and a little girl walked by.  Ned 
heard the little girl ask her mother, "Mommy why does that lady have 
writing on her body and bolts in her arms?"

    The mother glared at Ned, then grabbed her daughter by the hand 
and yanked her away in a rush. 

    As Ned ate his lunch, Fucktoy tapped him on the shoulder.  
"Hungry -- sir," it said and grimaced.

    "I'll see if I can find a private restroom to feed you in, 
otherwise you'll have to wait until we get home."

    As Ned continued to eat, another mother and child sat at an 
adjacent table.  Ned observed the little boy staring at Fucktoy, 
eyeing the writing on its shoulder that said, "Fucktoy, property of, 
Ned.

    The buy then turned to his mother and asked, "Mommy, what does f-
u-c-k mean?"  

    The mother looked up from her burger and whispered in anger, 
"Where did you hear _that_ word, young man?"

    The mother's jaw dropped when her son pointed at Fucktoy.

    She glared at Ned and Fucktoy and started to leave.

    "But Mommy!  What kind of toy is a fuck toy?  Can I have one?  
Please!"  

    "Come along," the mother scolded her son, and they left with 
their food to find another table.

    Ned also noticed countless men glancing oddly under the table as 
they passed by.  Obviously, they could see Fucktoy's naked hairy 
pussy from a certain angle with the short skirt it wore.

    Ned finished his lo mein, and headed off to the restrooms.  
Fortunately, between the men's and the women's restrooms, there was a 
single handicapped/family restroom.  He and Fucktoy entered the room, 
and Ned closed and locked the door.  

    Fucktoy knew to lie on its back on the floor before being told.  
Ned dropped his jeans and squatted over Fucktoy's face.  He pointed 
his cock into its mouth and gave it a drink.  Then he actually sat on 
its face with his asshole over its mouth, and grunted out a lump of 
shit.  He tried to push out another, but that's all he had in him.  
He stood, wiped his ass, and flushed the paper down the toilet.  

    He told Fucktoy to wash its face good after it swallowed its 
lunch.  

    Then, he told Fucktoy to stand, and then washed his hands and 
left the restroom.

    "Thank -- you -- for -- lunch -- sir," Fucktoy grunted to Ned.

    Ned led Fucktoy through the mall and back out to his car and 
home.  

    One Saturday afternoon, Ned had invited one of his friends over.  

    "Come on in, Sam.  I want to show you something."

    Sam stopped and gasped at the sight of a naked woman standing at 
attention in Ned's living room.

    "Cool!" Sam said.  "It looks so real!  Where'd you get it?  It is 
anatomically correct?"

    "Sam," Ned said, then paused, "it's real!"  

    "What?  You're shitting me?"

    "Nope.  That's a real live girl!"

    "Dude, the bolts in its arms and legs give it away that it's a 
robot or dummy."

    To Fucktoy, Ned said, "Fucktoy, walk over here."

    "No way!" Sam insisted.  "No way you got a hot babe like that!  
And just standing there naked while you got friends over!  No way 
dude!"

    Fucktoy walked over and stopped next to Ned.

    "Oh man!" Sam said.  He looked at it closely and said to it, 
"Holy shit!  Those bolts got to be fake, but you've got Ned's name 
tattooed in your face!  And what's that say on your arm?  Uh, 
'Fucktoy, property of, Ned'  Whoa!"

    Fucktoy didn't answer Sam. 

    "Wait a minute," Sam said, "she ain't talking.  She's some kind 
of robot or something?  Ain't no way a real woman, especially a hot 
babe like that, would go for someone like you or me, and let you 
tattoo your name on her face and that property thing on her arm."

    "She's real, Sam," Ned said.  

    Then to Fucktoy Ned said, "Say 'hi' to Sam, Fucktoy."

    "Hi -- Sam," Fucktoy gasped.

    "Hmm, that don't sound real to me, Ned."

    "That's cause it's got a pain collar on its neck that shocks it 
whenever it talks.  Watch this." 

    Ned pressed the button on his belt fob, and Fucktoy bent over 
screaming and fell to the floor.

    "Cool!" Sam said.

    "Back on your feet, you worthless slab of female meat!" Ned 
yelled at it.

    Fucktoy caught its breath and stood again.  "Sorry -- sir," it 
gasped.

    "Wow, she is real!" Sam finally said.  "She really let you treat 
her like that?"

    "It has no choice, Sam.  I own it.  I own its worthless body.  
It's my fuck toy.  And, yes, those bolts through its wrists and 
ankles are real too -- they go right through its bones."

    "You mean she's, I mean it's, your slave?"

    "Yup!  It's my slave!" Ned said with a big grin.

    "No way!"

    "Way!  I'll prove it!" Ned said.  "Fucktoy, go get an empty 
plastic cup from the kitchen.  Bring me and Sam a couple of beers 
too."

    Fucktoy went to the kitchen and returned with an empty cup and 
two bottles of Guinness, handing one to Sam and one to Ned.

    "First, watch this," Ned said to Sam.

    "Bend down and hold the cup out, Fucktoy," Ned told it.

    Ned set his beer on the table and unzipped his pants.  Sam gasped 
as Ned pulled out his dick and peed into the cup that Fucktoy was 
holding.

    Ned filled the cup and zipped his pants back up.

    "Fucktoy," Ned said, "what's in the cup?"

    "Your -- piss -- sir," it answered.

    "Drink it," Ned commanded.

    Fucktoy lifted the cup to its thick sultry lips and drank the 
piss from the cup.

    "Holy crap!" Sam gasped. 

    "Throw the empty cup away, Fucktoy," Ned told it.

    Fucktoy took the empty cup to the kitchen and returned a moment 
later.

    "How?  How did you ever get her to be your slave?" Sam asked.

    "It's a long story, Sam.  Say, wanna play a game of darts?"

    "Sure.  But man!  I never would'a guessed you were so -- 
sadistic!  Jeez! "

    "Fucktoy, go stand over by the wall," Ned said. 

    Ned opened a glass door on his TV wall unit and pulled out a box.  
Opening the box, he handed Sam a set of five red darts, and took a 
set of five green darts for himself.

    "Ned?" Sam blurted.

    "We're playing darts, Sam.  Now listen.  Each nipple, itself, is 
100 points.  The little red circle around each nipple is 10 point.  
Anywhere else on either of its breasts is 1 point.  Hit anywhere else 
on its head or torso, and you lose immediately; I don't want my 
Fucktoy damaged.  Same if you miss completely and hit the wall.  But 
if you hit an arm or leg, that doesn't count either way.  We play 
till we're out of darts, okay?"

    "Yeah, sure," Sam shrugged. 

    "Fucktoy," Ned said, "stand perfectly still until the game is 
over."

    Ned threw a dart.  Fucktoy screeched when the dart slammed into 
its left breast, releasing a trickle of blood down its breast and 
chest.  

    "One point for me," Ned said.

    Sam threw a dart and hit it in the right arm, causing Fucktoy to 
gasp.

    Fucktoy began to reach for the dart, but Ned said, "Fucktoy, 
don't move.  I'll let you remove the darts when the game is over."

    Ned threw another dart.  It slammed into Fucktoy's right breast. 

    Sam threw a dart, which hit Fucktoy in the red circle just under 
its left nipple.

    "Whoohoo!  Ten points," Sam cheered.

    Ned threw a dart, which slid right into Fucktoy's left nipple 
just above Sam's last dart.

    "Oh yeah, baby!" Ned cheered.

    Sam's next dart hit Fucktoy in its arm again, just under his 
other dart.  "Shit!"

    Ned's next dart hit Fucktoy in the stomach just above its belly 
button.  "Aaaaaaa!" it cried out and doubled over.

    "You lose, Ned!" Sam laughed.  "You broke your own rule!"

    "Oops!" Ned said with a giggle.  "You win this one, buddy!"

    "Fucktoy!" Ned shouted at it.  "Go wash the darts off and put 
them away.  Then wash all that blood off your worthless carcass."

    Fucktoy staggered into the bathroom as the darts stuck out of its 
breasts, arms, and stomach like a pincushion.   

    "Wanna watch _Star Trek?"_  Ned asked Sam.  _TNN_ has been having 
_Star Trek_ marathons the past few weekends and I got almost every 
episode!"

    "Cool!" Sam answered as they plopped onto the sofa.  

    "Fucktoy!" Ned screamed.  "Get your worthless cunt out here and 
turn the TV on for us!  Now!"

    Fucktoy staggered unto the living room, still washing trickles of 
blood off itself.  It picked up the remote control that was sitting 
on the end-table just inches away from Ned's hand, and turned on the 
TV and VCR. 

    "What?" Ned screamed when he saw her, "You stupid bitch!  Get 
your worthless ass back and that bathroom and finish washing yourself 
off!"

    "Oh man," Sam muttered. "It's so weird sitting here watching TV 
being waited on by a naked slave woman."

    "Yeah!  Hey, you want a blowjob, buddy?" 

    "What?  I..." Sam stammered. 

    "Fucktoy, you worthless slab of meat," Ned shouted, "get back out 
here!"

    Fucktoy walked out to the living room and Ned said, "Get on your 
knees and open your mouth."

    As it did so, Ned said, "Go ahead Sam, have fun!"

    "Really?" squeaked Sam.

    "Yeah, sure," Ned said.

    Sam stood and unbelted and unzipped his pants.  Pulling his dick 
out, he stepped up to Fucktoy and slid his dick into its mouth.

    Ned watched as Fucktoy worked on Sam's member in its mouth, 
swirling it around as its cheeks bulged and bobbed its head back and 
forth.  

    In a moment, Sam began panting.  Not soon after, he began quaking 
as he came into Fucktoy's mouth.

    "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!" Sam panted over and over again as Fucktoy 
swallowed.

    Finally, Sam stood there breathing heavily and slid his cock out 
of Fucktoy's mouth.

    As Sam zipped his pants, Ned said to Fucktoy, "What do you say to 
Sam?"

    "Thank -- you -- Sam," Fucktoy panted.

    "You're welcome!" Sam answered.  "And, uh, thank you!"

    Sam sat back down and then they drank their beers and watched 
_Star Trek_ through the rest of the evening.

    Ned had Fucktoy serve them pizza and popcorn throughout the 
evening, until it was late and Sam left to go home.

    Ned fucked Fucktoy in his bed after Sam left, and then suspended 
it from its ankles in the dungeon before going to bed for the night.

    Later that week, Ned said to Fucktoy one evening after work.  
"Good news, Fucktoy.  I got a transfer out of state.  After I move, 
I'll be able to take you out without fear of anyone recognizing you!  
Won't that be great?"

    "Yes -- sir," it gasped.

    Over the next couple of weeks, Ned had to stay away overnight 
while searching for a new house, so he left Fucktoy with bowls of 
water and dog food. 

    Ned had had Fucktoy do all the work of packing up his household 
into moving boxes for the movers.  Packing up and tearing down the 
dungeon was the biggest chore.  On the day before the move, Ned 
packed Fucktoy into a large wheeled trunk with air holes and packed 
it in the back of his wagon with the rest of his prized possessions, 
such as his computer and his stereo.

    The move went fairly smoothly as moves go, and he was in his new 
home a few days later.

    In his new home, he didn't bother building a dungeon per-se.  

    At first, he just kept Fucktoy in a locked cage in his bedroom 
when he wasn't fucking or feeding it.  He promptly set up Fucktoy's 
security system in the master bedroom suite consisting of bedroom, 
master bath, and study.  Fucktoy's absolute acquiescence, and the 
secluded location of his new home, provided sufficient privacy that 
he didn't need to keep it in a windowless basement dungeon.  

    In time, he might build another dungeon for play, but it wasn't a 
priority.

    - END -

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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