cashmaster

Humiliation is an important part of every faggot’s training. When a Man humiliates a faggot, He’s teaching him humility (a faggot must remain humble and not allow his ego to get in the way of his ability to serve and obey superior Men), respect (a faggot must learn to show appreciation and esteem to superior Men) and obedience (a faggot must learn to cede all control to superior Men). Plus, it’s just plain fun to embarrass or shame a faggot sometimes — and faggots exist to amuse as much as they do to serve.

Unfortunately, faggots have very little shame. Therefore, it can sometimes be difficult to imagine new ways to humiliate them. With that in mind, i’ve created a the following list of 57 ways for Men to humiliate Their faggots. Go forth, Men, and have fun playing with your subs!

Make him wear a butt plug and send him to the gym to workout — ensuring that he changes and showers in the locker room with the butt plug still in.

Cum on his face or in his hair, then send him out to run errands for You; make it clear that he’ll be severely punished if he returns and You discover that he’s wiped the cum off.

Call or text him at will and order him to piss his pants and send You a picture of it. If You do it when You know he’s out in public — at a bar, perhaps, or on the train during their evening commute home from work — even better.

Serve him his dinner in a dog bowl and make him eat it — sans utensils — kneeling like an animal on the floor next to You while You sit and eat Your dinner at the table like the Man You are.

Make him serve as a piece of furniture — a footrest, perhaps, or a coffee table on which people can set their drinks — during Your next party.

Make him address You as “Sir” in public. He should already be doing it in private, but addressing You that way in public will take Your power dynamic to a whole new level. To kick it up yet another notch, make him call You “Master.”

Outfit him with an ashtray mouth gag and station him on Your patio for smokers to use during Your next get-together.

Spontaneously order him to jerk off to completion in front of You or others in a random or inopportune time and/or place. Then, make him eat his load.

Forbid him from using the restroom for the day and make him wear a diaper, instead. Let him know you’ll be inspecting the diaper later, so he’d better make use of it.

Make him use the bathroom — piss and/or shit, Your choice — in front of You or others.

Perform an unannounced strip search and/or cavity check in an unexpected time or place — out at a bar, for instance, or in the parking lot when You’re out running errands.

Piss or cum into his food; make him eat it while You watch.

Forbid him to walk in front of You; faggots have to crawl on all fours.

Lock him in a cage naked during Your next party and let Your guests ogle at him like a zoo animal.

Dress him in slutty clothes and send him out in public to run errands for You.

Make him give himself an enema while You watch.

Make him use the urinal in a public mensroom with his pants around his ankles; or, if he has to shit, make him do so in a stall with the door wide open. Alternatively, or in addition, require that he always keep the door wide open when he’s using the bathroom at home.

Make him wear a leash and collar in Your presence. Or, even better, out in public.

Forbid him from making eye contact with You.

Handcuff him in public.

Make him kneel in a public restroom with the word “toilet” written on his forehead.

Lock his cock in a chastity device.

Lock his cock in a chastity device, then make him change at the gym, the swimming pool, the beach, etc., with the cock cage on.

Shave his head.

Shave all his body hair.

Scold him like he’s a little boy.

Reprimand him in public when he does something bad.

Spank him in public.

Write “faggot” on his face or body with suntan lotion, then take him sunbathing and let the sun “brand” him.

Make him wear a T-shirt out in public that says “i’m a faggot,” or “slave,” or “pussyboy,” or “cumdump.”

Put him in a timeout, standing naked in the corner facing the wall for a period of time.

Spit in his face — bonus if it’s a loogie — and make him keep it there to dry. Forbid him from wiping it off.

Take him to the bathhouse with messages like “breed me” or “i drink piss” or “cocksucker” written all over his body in permanent marker.

Next time he’s eating Your ass, rip a fart in his face.

Next time You take a dump, take Your finger — or even Your turd itself — and wipe a streak of shit on his upper lip. Demand that he wear Your shit mustache there all day.

Make him suck a dildo in a public place — in the car on the highway during rush hour, for example — so others can see.

Only allow him to use the bathroom outside, like a dog.

Make him eat things out of Your ass.

Gag him with Your cock until he pukes, then make him lick up his vomit.

Make him sleep on the floor next to your bed, instead of in the bed.

Slap him. Hard.

Make him lick your shoes or boots — on command, in public.

Pee next to him at the urinal when You’re out and about; turn and face him so that You piss on him instead of in the urinal. Laugh, and make him walk around with Your piss all over him.

Make him wipe Your ass for You. Either with toilet paper, with his hand or with his tongue. All three are extremely humiliating.

Make him verbally recite a list of five, 10, 20 — whatever — things he loves and admires about You.

Cut or a rip a hole in the seat of his pants and send him out wearing them without underwear on underneath.

Give him an enema and then take him on a walk around the neighborhood with it still in. Make sure he’s wearing light-colored pants or shorts. Heheheh.

Make him flash his hole to strangers in the car on the highway, at a rest stop, or another location of Your choosing.

Whenever You need to use the toilet — at home or in public — escort him in with You and make him lick it clean for You so you have a pristine place to relieve Yourself.

Clip a clothes pin to his tongue and make him say “i am a faggot” 10 times until he’s drooling all over himself.

After you fuck him, hose him off naked in the yard like a dirty animal.

Make him approach a stranger and “confess” something dirty and embarrassing. Like, “Hello, i’m a faggot, and i like to sniff Men’s asses.” Or, “Hello, i’m a faggot, and my cunt is filled with cum right now.” Or, “Hello, i’m a faggot, and i drink piss.”

Make him make animal noises for You on command: “Bark like a dog!” Or, “Meow like a cat!” Or, “Show me what sound a pig makes!”

Make him clean his cunt every time he shits. Pre-mix a cleaning solution for him to use — Your piss, perhaps, mixed with some dish soap — and store it in a spray bottle labeled “fag bath” or “cunt cleaner.” Make him display this cleaner next to the toilet in his home, where any guests are sure to see it.

Take him into a photobooth and make him pose for pictures with Your cock in his mouth, then walk away and make him leave the pictures for the next patron to find — not knowing who will find them or what they’ll do with them.

Make him approach a stranger at a bar, in a bathroom or at a sex club and beg for their cock, piss or cum.

"Knees."

You nod silently and sink to your knees obediently. The car park isn't empty and the ground is wet from recent rain. He pats your head and ruffles your hair.

"Good boy."

He grabs your hair tight but not aggressively - you're his property, he wants to guide you not hurt you. He pulls your head back, leans over and lets a long streak of spit dangle, drop and slide into your open mouth. It tastes of coffee, a hint of toothpaste and alpha saliva. He releases your hair, moves your head back sharply and ruffles your hair again.

Reaching into  his pocket to grab some cigarettes he taps his left shoe on the ground. You take your cue and move down towards it. You hear the click of the lighter as you glide your tongue across his shoes; leather, dust, a warm scent seeping from within. He leans back on the wall, lifting from his heal so that you can get under the soles. He loves to see you work hard to please him.

You can hear him saying "Hello" while you continue licking his shoe. (More than licking? Caressing, maybe.) He's talking to co-workers who are coming in and out of the building. Some laugh, some make a passing comment. He loves it. It's a sign of his strength and superiority to have a weakling under him. You can feel the warmth of his foot inside there and he moves it around releasing a faint dose of alpha scent. He knows it drives you wild. Your cage is rubbing against the ground and you can feel the end bulge as your tightly contained excitement grows with no escape. It's been three weeks since you were allowed out of your cage - he likes you desperate and on edge.

He moves and places his other foot in front of you. He flicks some ash onto the floor - you pick it up with your tongue and he taps you on the head with his shoe, rubbing your head into the wet pavement. He releases you and you get on with your duty. The cage feels as though it might burst off, however the tight padlock he chose for you is as strong as his hold on your life. He knows you don't need the cage but he likes it being there. As you move along the ground to get into the tracks of his shoes, it scrapes across the ground.

You hear more sounds above and comments from co-workers. "Where do I get one? How do you get it to do it so obediently?"

He taps you on your cheek again. "It just knows its place. Don't you, boy?"

"Yes Master."

Silently you worship. Licking up ash, swallow it, licking his shoes so they shine. When you're done, he'll lock you back in the car until he's ready for you again. A possession he has full control of, a pet he can control at will.

You grab whatever rest you can - you know that your day has only just begun.

I wait by the door all day for him. He doesn't need to tie me there but he usually attaches my leash to a hook near the door - low down and just tight enough to be a reminder that I'm to stay there and wait, no matter how long, for his return. If I'm good he'll nudge some shoes or trainers - sometimes slippers or flip flops - towards me to keep me company and worship while he's gone. If I'm extra good he'll leave me with used underwear or socks too. I'll lovingly protect these all day - never chew because they are his property - just like me.

When he comes home I like to show him how excited I am, but I know he's had a long day and wants to chill and be served so I quickly focus on his needs. He'll tap his foot on the floor and I'll lick above around and under his footwear - no matter where he's been or the state of them. He'll often grab the leash and walk me to the sofa to carry on. He'll click his fingers for me to get him a drink and then I'll get back to worshipping his feet. Sometimes He props them up, often he enjoys watching me grovel and beg to try and work around them on the floor. He 's a kind Master who enjoys watching me struggle sometimes.

Often he'll beckon me up to him and trap my head in between his thighs.

"Good boy..."

He'll scratch my head carefully until he's satisfied then he releases me and I sink back to his feet.

Very carefully I remove his footwear with my teeth. If there are laces i'll undo those too - being careful not to fray them or damage them. I know that in the chain of command I am lower than his clothing. I'm his to use and everything he owns is precious and gets my upmost respect. He wears whatever he likes and whenever he likes while I grovel before him in second hand clothing - if i'm allowed to wear anything at all.

It sometimes takes a while to remove his footwear and he shows me he enjoys watching me struggle by smiling down on me, sometimes letting out a smirk or chuckle. His feet are always warm and if he's been to the gym or walking I can already smell his scent through his foot wear whilst working hard to remove them.

Even at this stage i'm gently rubbing his feet with my head whilst trying to remove his shoes. Everything is designed to please him - the struggle, the servitude and the initial foot massage. All while he sits back and enjoys his drink.

He'll click his fingers - I know what this means. He holds his hand out down towards me - God reaching down from Heaven. I give him the wallet i've guarded all day. He taps my face with his shoe.

"Good boy. Continue."

His other shoe loosens and I slip it off onto the floor carefully with my mouth whilst also balancing his other foot for him.

He counts out his money taken from the wallet he allows me to fill while crushing me down to the floor with his feet.  It's a month's earnings and he knows it's all his. He decides if I can have some. He has me flat on the floor now, his feet pressed into my face, nothing more than a vessel to please his feet. I know there is no touching allowed unless he expressly says so.

HIs damp socks are so warm, soaking his scent into my face. I can't see what he's doing at this point but I occasionally hear a command to lick or kiss his feet. It's hard to do either as he puts pressure on to my face, but as his property it's my job to do what he tells me to do to the best of my pathetic ability. His warm, socked feet are amazing. I can hear him flicking through his money slowly, occasionally picking up his mobile to drain another sub. I'm jealous that someone else gets the honour of giving to him but I want him to have everything and feel honoured to be at his feet while he uses another slave.

There's a brief rush of air as he moves his feet. I can see his face coming into view and he lets a slow, long trail of spit fall from his mouth onto my face. He has honoured me with a drink so I open my mouth to catch it all. Some of it falls across my face and a few drops fall to the ground.

"Hahaha... pathetic."

He mops up the spit with his socked feet and plants them back on my face, going back to counting his money and draining more subs. After a while of darkness under his feet, worshipping and embracing the warm drenched material, I hear the door open.

Sir has returned home.

Slave blog 1.

I've received a few messages from other subs asking how to be a good cash slave. Not all subs are cash slaves, obviously, but I thought i'd share my thoughts here on what i've learned as one and I hope it profits other cash subs and, importantly, Masters. It's not definitive and is only fom my weakling perspetive. Not rules, just a pathetic sub's instinctive ideas for worshiping superiors more fullly and embracing true and total submission. Of course, this is entirely owed to my Master @kingofslav and if any of this helps it's down to his training and benevolence.

1. My mindset is that I'm not paying my Master or giving him money - he's allowing me the honour of working, earning and giving it to a superior. He already owns it and can just take it all if he wants. He owes me nothing. Alot of subs 'want' something or feel like they are owed time/clips/used stuff as a consequence of 'tributing'. I feel i'd be a bad slave to expect this. My Master chooses what I deserve based on his will and my behaviour. There are some subs that like being bratty, i'm more about pleasing my superiors. Happy Master = Happy Slave

2. I work around him. LIterally. If there's a time difference, I plan around this. If he wants me to be up and ready to send his money for breakfast, my alarm is set for that time zone regardless of what i'm doing. If I know that he's likely to want me for anything i'll make sure I'm ready. Sometimes it doesn't work out because of work/sleep patterns but he knows that I do my best and expect nothing more than being able to improve and serve him better. 

3. If i'm in any doubt, I go into pup space. Not all subs are pups, not all cash slaves are either, but I find it's the best way to shut off and focus on what's important - His needs. Sub space also works well with this, essentially it's just blocking out the irrelevant and doing something that keeps me submissive, focussed and obedient. Lines are good for this, writing a blog has helped me and re-reading old conversations to get a sense of where I could have been more obedient/respectful/submissive. Don't think - just serve and work to serve more.

4. I've always preferred a long term bond rather than a quick drain and run but ultimately I believe that the best bonds are made to the Master's benefit. Any sexual gratification I get is irrelevant. I've found my purpose and am constantly happy because of it, but only if my Master is happy. 

Begging on all fours to give more.

Some people are born to receive, us faggots are born to give.

Sir never acknowledges me. He can see me on the ground at my Master's feet and he just walks in and sits, talks to Master and they have their time.

Master rubs his socks off on my face. I assist by moving my chin and nose, to no acknowledgement. I'm a floor that moves. If i make it easier to remove his socks then my lifes purpose is made. If not, he'll keep rubbing til they come off. He wins either way.

Master has put everything aside for Sir. I'm just there to lick and serve now without orders because I'm primed to do so. All grime, sweat, flecks.... my sustenance.

Click.

I get Sir a drink. He doesn't acknowledge me.

Click.

Down at Master's feet.

Tap.

Sir puts his feet near me. I take off his shoes. He wants function, not worship.

Tap.

The other shoe.

Master rubs my face with his feet, rubbing in my hard work and acknowledging my correct attention to his mate.

Sir's feet are dominant. He just puts them on my chest. I'm an object to Sir and a plaything to Master.

I can't see them but I can hear an agreement between them.

Sir presses down on my chest. That means rub. I place my hands on his feet and treat them like royalty.

Master stretches his toes and I can feel him pushing my face with his heal as he sits back as I lap at his warm feet.

I hear the sound of two men loving life and feel something next to my cheek.

Half my wage.

No BDSM related posts today.

This is in memory of a friend who didn't tell anyone.

Who suffered in silence.

Who put on a happy face, when in reality he was screaming for help in his head.

My friend was drugged and raped. His rapist told him he would kill him if he told anyone.

No one knew.

How do I know this? He sent an email to several friends before he put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

The rapist didn't pull the trigger, but my friend is none the less dead.

I am beyond numb. Broken.