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He brought you out here to the desert just so no one would hear you scream your brains out. He tied you up, drugged you, and now you’re going to do whatever he wants.
Heh. Scream all you want. No one will hear you.
And he likes it when they scream.
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"Did you just contradict me?"
Uh oh.
"N-no, Sir. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Sir."
"Take off your pants, dumbshit."
You do so. You aren't a real employee here. You just impersonate one as per his request. You dress up in a suit and everyone knows you're his assistant. He has many assistants but you are his personal assistant. A glorified whore, really, that he can bring into his office.
"So," he continues. "My fag has an opinion about something. You don't like the way I talk to you, faggot loser? You don't like me saying that I'm going to fire half the staff? Hmm? It's my company, you DUMBSHIT!"
"I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry, Sir. I'm sorry. I just felt so bad for them. For the people." You wince. This isn't going well. He blows cigar smoke in your face.
He hits you so hard on your ass you yelp.
"Take your clothes off. All of them." He locks the door. You do so. You are in an office full of professional men and women and you pretend to be one of them so that your "boss" who is really your Master can dehumanize you from the comfort of his own office. "Bow to me," he tells you. You do so, as you are completely under HIS control. "Who's a faggot loser? Is it you, faggot loser?"
"Yes, Sir. I am a faggot loser. Sir."
"Kiss my holy shoes, faggot loser." He tells you this like it's elementary, like you should have guessed that is what you should have been doing. It's so obvious that's where you belong, kissing the shoes and feet of another man, worshiping the ground he walks on.
"Stuff your suit into your mouth," he indicates, and gets a wooden paddle from his expensive desk. He comes over, blows cigar smoke in your face again. He smirks. Then the paddling begins. WHACK1 WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Seven is his lucky number. Your tears stain the suit. You realize you're lucky because you will always have a place underneath him. So many people struggle in this life trying to find their place, but you will never struggle to do so ever again.
You will never rise up. You will never take your place among normal men. You will get beaten when your Master wills it, and you will accept his orders as holy words given to you from above.
You are a slave now and forever, and you're lucky to be one.
MY NAME IS MASTER DJ. I AM A CASHMASTER, AND I HAVE ENSLAVED HUNDREDS OF MEN OVER THE YEARS. THEY ALL BOW TO ME. THEY WORSHIP ME. THEY CRAVE ME. THEY LOVE ME. I DESERVE IT ALL.
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I KNOW ALL. I SEE ALL. I SEE INSIDE YOUR FAGGOT SOUL.
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ALL FAGS LOVE ME. ALL FAGS WORSHIP ME. ALL FAGS CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF ME. YOU CRAVING SOME ORDERS, YOU LOWLY MAGGOT? HUH? COME MESSAGE ME ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SERVE. MASTER DJ IS HERE, AND I’M BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY.
"Well, well, well. So this is my new slave!"
"Let me out of here! I'm not a slave! What the hell are you talking about! How did I get here! Take me off these chains! You're gonna be in so much fucking trouble!"
An electric shock goes through you. There is a slight collar around your neck that he has attached to you. You are chained to the wall.
"You are in no position to be giving orders, BOY. Now, your training will begin shortly. I hope you are broken in soon, because i want to use that pretty ass of yours."
"You're fucking sick, dude! The authorities will come for me!"
He laughs, chuckles at your own naivete. He blows cigar smoke in your face and you cough.
"Boy. You are thousands of miles away from your home. You will find this compound is surrounded by pine forest for hundreds of miles in any direction. There's no escape for you. You're mine now. You're my property."
"Fuck you!"
An electric jolt seizes through you. It hurts more this time.
"I think you'll find," your new Master says. "That in time you'll become a very willing slave. A very good slave. All the other boys have become very good slaves. You'll see. In time. You'll see." He comes in close and gives you the slightest kiss on the cheek. "Don't be scared," he whispers. "This is a good thing. It's good I found you when I did. You were on the streets. This way you have a nice home and a purpose. To obey my and my every command." He fondles your crotch without warning. "Mmmm. Yes, I'm glad I chose you. You're a delicious little slave, aren't you? Oh and if you're hungry, I'll bring you some dog food. You are a dog now so you'll be eating like one. I'll see you soon, Dog." He says that last part so casually you blink, wondering if you hallucinated it.
The thick iron prison door slams shut. You gulp.
Surely this can't be forever, you think.
But you're wrong, because it is.
MY NAME IS MASTER DJ. I AM A CASHMASTER, AND I HAVE ENSLAVED HUNDREDS OF MEN OVER THE YEARS. THEY ALL BOW TO ME. THEY WORSHIP ME. THEY CRAVE ME. THEY LOVE ME. I DESERVE IT ALL.
LIKE MY BLOG, STORIES AND CAPTIONS?
THANK ME VIA AN AMAZON GIFTCARD.
https://www.amazon.com/gift-cards/b?node=2238192011
Send it to:
I KNOW ALL. I SEE ALL. I SEE INSIDE YOUR FAGGOT SOUL.
https://www.amazon.com/gift-cards/b?node=2238192011
ALL FAGS LOVE ME. ALL FAGS WORSHIP ME. ALL FAGS CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF ME. YOU CRAVING SOME ORDERS, YOU LOWLY MAGGOT? HUH? COME MESSAGE ME ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SERVE. MASTER DJ IS HERE, AND I’M BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY.
