At the start of what fag the morning... fag's cell was unlocked remotely. The remote lock is always loud and sudden. The sound makes fag's heart race because it knows it's being watched and WILL get disciplined if SIR notices any deviation from orders. it follows the normal routine of emptying and cleaning it's cell bucket, hole prep and retrieving it's rations consisting of a yet another container flavorless cold slop (no warm or hard food for fags) some pills (?) & a large bottle of SIR's piss. it needs nothing more than this to survive. The boring slop also makes it crave and appreciate the taste of it's Master even more.
it doesn't miss a drop of HIS cold piss from the bottle and finds itself disappointed when it's given regular water.
After it has eaten, it promptly washes out the containers and looks to see if there's any blemishes on the floor, gear to put away or anything else it can be of use for. "Good morning, faggot" blasts loudly in the speakers. "I see that it has fed itself and done it's morning prep... it has orders. Retrieve MY langlitz, Wescos, "SADIST" shirt, Muir cap, gloves, belt and socks. Return to the cell with cleaning supplies. Now."
Shuffling quickly back to the cell with the heavy steel restraints on it's wrists, ankles and neck that it's become accustomed to. fag carefully places HIS gear down and smiles big at the opportunity to serve.
The sound of the cell door locking always catches the fag off guard.
it spends the morning meticulously cleaning Master's leather. With each stroke it aims to show Master how grateful it is to wear HIS collar and have purpose. Once fag is content with it's work, it carefully sets the leather in a presentation for Master to find. it then goes to a designated corner in the cell to wait. it starts on it's normal submission station which is on it's knees, hands behind back and head down. It was foolish to hope Master would down to see fag first thing in the morning so it eventually ends up in a fetal position because of the weight of the heavy steel restraints.
fag dozes off only to be awoken by the sounds of Master moving around in the other room. fag bolts up and returns to his submissive station. Eager for Master to see his perfectly polished leather. Eager to be acknowledged by HIM.
Master does take his time. It's his right to do so. fag can hear SIR filling the piss bottle for later.
The cell door unlocks remotely. fag feels Master’s presence looming over it. Looking at HIS property and the completed task.
“Obedience is pleasure. Pleasure is obedience. Service is purpose. it exists to serve it's MASTER....”
“COME. Bring my leather, fag. Fetch me a drink”.
fag enters the other room where inspects his leather and instructs fag to dress him as he casually sips his whiskey. Once finished, fag returns to its submissive kneeling.
Master stand in front of the mirror with fag at his side resting a boot on fag’s knee. Master loves seeing a fresh shine on his leather. He enjoys feeling this sexy and touches his growing bulge with leather gloves. But, he suddenly stops.
“WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS THIS, FAGGOT?!”
Master aggressively grabs fag by its neck and pushes its face to Master’s pant leg where there is a dusty smudge... like one might do with a dog that shit in the house.
“I ASKED FAG A QUESTION! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS THIS?!”
“Master, it was shined. That is from when SIR grazed his Wesco boot against HIS pants while inspecting HIS leather, SIR”.
fag doesn’t remember what happened next. it just remembers Master’s boot on it’s head and more scolding. There is fire in it's Master's voice.
Then the strike of a riding crop began.
“Stupid shithead faggot can’t follow a simple order”.
fag is face down and can hear it's Master's breathing between strikes. He is masturbating while he strikes fag. fag can sense the carnal rage in his breathing. Master loves having a reason to punish.
fag is now broken on the floor. The welts are forming. A bit of pre cum drips from the nub.
fag crawls to the cell and heards HIM slam the cell door shut. HIS anger is palpable.
fag turns to face the cell door and resumes his submissive pose. Looking down at the floor outside the cage it sees bar attire Master had prepared before it left the cell earlier. Latex catsuit, fag shirt, boots, knee pads and a leash.
Master sees how the fag has noticed the gear. HE approaches the locked cell door, reaches into the cage door with gloved hands and raises fag’s chin so it’s eyes meet HIS.
“fag knows it fucked up, right? fag presented leather to ME with a scuff mark on it and tried to make it MY fault?! This is unacceptable. I do not tolerate mistakes OR excuses. Grrrr.... fag was doing so well. I was looking forward to tonight... but clearly it hasn't earned time serving me and my Alpha friends at the bar tonight... "Head down, fag".
"Wait... it's the evening?" fag ponders.
This is the moment when fag realizes it is actually the evening. Per the careful planning of it's Master… fag has lost all track of time. it's Master uses and trains HIS property at so many random hours and kept changing the clock to confuse the fag. It worked.
This greatly flusters the fag also knowing it won’t be going to the bar because of a scuff mark that wasn’t there when the leather was presented. fag lets out that pathetic defeated whimper (the one that it's Master loves to hear). HE smiles knowing how deep he is inside that fag brain right now.
“SIR, yes, SIR. fag is sorry”. "Too late, faggot. Too late"
it's Master allows the faggot to watch as HE puts on the freshly polished leather. HE sits down, stares at fag and reflects at it's error. "I trained you to do better, faggot." HE stands up, turns the lights in the dungeon to "Code Red" which means the fag is being punished. Loud mechanisms turn and clank shut as HE locks the room down securing HIS regretful fag in the cell. "Dumb faggot..." is heard muttered by SIR as HIS loud Wescos leave the room.
fag spends the next few hours contemplating how it could serve better in the future.
"faggot should have just apologized profusely. faggot should have just taken the blame. HE is always right. Now, faggot is missing out on serving HIM at the bar... and is stuck alone again in the cell. MUST. DO. BETTER. Fuck! What has it done?! it knows better. Fuck fuck fuck fuck!".
fag dozes off early in what it thought was the morning but is actually late at night. Until … a monitor outside the cell turns on revealing facetime of Master in the Leather Bar bathroom.
“Raise your head, faggot. Mmm... SIR looks good, doesn't HE? Fucking HOT! And faggot is not present here to serve me property… BECAUSE IT FUCKED UP. fag, you will do better. There will be no more excuses in the future. I will not hesitate to punish you and leave you again in a more encumbered situation. I don’t need to be present to enjoy controlling my faggot.
Also... acknowledge my ALPHA friends. Yeahhhh.... THEY'VE had a live feed link to the cell since before faggot disappointed me earlier this evening. They've been buying me drinks for in thanks for the evening entertainment and are asking to come over and gang bang it while I watch.
NOW… since fag failed ME tonight… I am going to go find another eager and FOCUSED fag to serve ME MY drinks and light MY cigar for this evening. It won't take long. faggot knows SIR has boys begging for the opportunity faggot missed out on.
But, before I do that… I want fag to reach under the cell mattress. There is lube and a very large dildo that I want fag to train its mouth and hole with while I am out. Remembering it could have been here had it not presented me with excuses for it's failure. If fag is able to accommodate that large toy by the time I get home. I will consider using it. If I feel like it”
