OWNED: A Day of TrainingA STORY OF DOMINANCE, SUBMISSION, AND SERVICE
3:15 PM — PICKUP AND RETRIEVAL
The black truck was already waiting when the bus hissed to a stop. Boss stood beside it, arms crossed, his leather jacket catching the afternoon light. He didn’t move toward the curb, just watched as the boy, Billy, gathered his backpack and stepped down onto the pavement.
“You’re late,” Boss said, his voice flat and cold. He turned and walked toward the open garage door without checking to see if Billy was following.
Inside the garage, Boss stopped by the passenger side of the truck. He pulled a thick leather collar from his jacket pocket.
“Chin up.”
Billy complied, and Boss buckled the collar snugly around his neck. Next came the handcuffs.
“Hands behind your back.”
The metal clicked shut, and Billy’s shoulders pulled back instinctively. Boss opened the truck door and guided Billy into the seat, his grip firm on Billy’s arm. He pulled the seatbelt across Billy’s chest and clicked it shut, then slammed the door.
Boss got in the driver’s side and started the engine. The low rumble filled the silence.
“Eyes to the floor, faggot,” Boss commanded.
Billy immediately dropped his gaze to the floor mat. Boss drove out of the driveway, not speaking again until he pulled into a parking spot in front of a small market.
“Wait here,” Boss said, and got out of the truck.
He left Billy cuffed and collared in the passenger seat, the collar a visible brand to anyone who might glance in. Billy kept his eyes down, his heart thudding against his ribs, listening to the tick of the cooling engine.
Boss returned a few minutes later with a plastic bag. He tossed it onto the back seat and started the truck without a word. The drive continued in the same tense silence. Billy didn’t dare look up from the floor mat.
When they arrived at the house, Boss parked and killed the engine. He came around to Billy’s side, opened the door, and undid the seatbelt.
“Out.”
He grabbed Billy’s backpack from the back seat and slung it over his own shoulder. With a firm hand on Billy’s arm, Boss guided him to the front door and inside.
The door clicked shut behind them, sealing Billy into his new reality.
3:30 PM — INTRODUCTION AND EXAMPLE
Boss didn’t pause in the entryway. He kept his grip on Billy’s arm, steering him into the living room. The air was thick with the scent of leather and something else—anticipation.
Billy’s eyes, still fixed on the floorboards, took in the pair of heavy boots kneeling in the corner. It was Alpha. He was naked, his head bowed, a thick chain running from a metal collar on his neck to an eyebolt in the baseboard. His ass was pushed out, and the black flared base of a large dildo was visible between his cheeks.
“As you know, this is my faggot slave and today, your Alpha,” Boss said, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet room. He stopped beside Alpha, his presence radiating control. “He knows his place, and so will you. Today, you will learn what it means to serve and to suffer.”
Alpha didn’t look up, but his body seemed to press closer to the floor in response.
Boss turned his full attention to Billy.
“You see that, fag? That’s what a true slave looks like.” He pointed a thumb at Alpha. “Now, Alpha, show the boy what it looks like to be a true pig.”
Boss produced a key and unlocked the chain from the wall.
“Retrieve the nightstick and show the slut how a good slave entertains his master.”
Alpha moved with a fluid, practiced grace, rising to his knees and crawling to a small table where a wooden nightstick lay. He picked it up with his mouth and crawled back to the center of the room, presenting the stick to Boss before taking it in his hands.
Boss sat on the couch, pulling Billy down beside him with a rough hand.
“Watch closely, slut. This is what you have to look forward to. I’m going to train you to be a good little pig faggot, just like him.”
Alpha positioned himself, facing them. He held the nightstick and began to work the thick end against his ass, already stretched by the dildo. His movements were deliberate, a performance of pure submission. He pushed the nightstick in, a low groan escaping his lips as his body opened to take it. He began to thrust, his hips rolling, his muscles tensing as he fucked himself for their entertainment.
“Make it good, Alpha,” Boss commanded, his arm draped possessively over Billy’s shoulders. “Let the slut see what a true slave looks like.”
Alpha’s breath came in ragged pants. He drove the nightstick deeper, his head falling back, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy silence Boss had imposed on Billy.
Boss leaned in, his voice a low rumble next to Billy’s ear.
“You’re going to learn to love that nightstick up your ass, just like he does. You’re mine now, bitch. Every inch of you.”
3:45 PM — INSPECTION AND HUMILIATION
Boss’s arm tightened around Billy’s shoulders for a moment before he shoved him roughly forward off the couch. Billy stumbled, his cuffed hands throwing him off balance, but managed to stay on his feet.
“Up,” Boss commanded, standing himself. “Strip, slut. I want to see every inch of that pathetic body of yours.”
Billy’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, the awkward angle of the handcuffs making the simple task difficult. He finally managed it, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He worked his jeans and underwear down, kicking them aside until he stood completely naked, his skin prickling under Boss’s intense gaze.
Boss began to circle him slowly, like a shark assessing prey. He stopped behind Billy, his hand landing heavily on Billy’s ass, squeezing hard. He moved to the front, his fingers tracing the line of Billy’s jaw before gripping his chin and forcing his head up.
“Every inch of you belongs to me now. You are mine to do with as I please, bitch.”
He let go, and Billy’s eyes immediately dropped back to the floor.
“You’re a nasty dirty faggot, aren’t you, slut?” Boss began, his voice a low, cutting lash. “Look at you, so pathetic and needy. You’re nothing but a pathetic little bitch, here for my amusement.”
From his position on the floor, Alpha echoed the sentiment, his voice a hollow, enthusiastic chorus.
“Yes, Master. Boy, you are a nasty dirty faggot. You are pathetic and needy, here for Master’s amusement. You are nothing but a pathetic little bitch.”
Boss pointed a finger at his own boots.
“Fag, you will clean my boots with your tongue. Show me how much you want to please me.”
Billy sank to his knees, the movement clumsy with his hands secured behind him. He leaned forward, extending his tongue to lap at the dusty leather of Boss’s right boot. The taste was acrid and humbling.
“That’s it, you little bitch. Lick them clean. Show me how eager you are to serve,” Boss said, his tone laced with disdain.
After a moment, Boss kicked his other boot toward Billy.
“Alpha, show the fag how a true slave cleans his Master’s boots. Make it good.”
Alpha crawled forward, his movements efficient and worshipful. He licked the leather with broad, deliberate strokes, his devotion clear in every motion. Billy watched from the corner of his eye, trying to mimic the reverence, to erase his own clumsy hesitation and become the object of service Boss demanded.
4:15 PM — FEAR AND PREPARATION
Boss nudged Billy’s shoulder with the toe of his boot.
“Enough. On your feet.”
Billy struggled to rise, the handcuffs forcing an awkward, undignified scramble. Once he was up, Boss gripped his arm again, his grip a clear command.
“It’s time to take this to the next level, slut. You’re going to learn what true fear and submission feel like.”
He led him down a short hall to a heavy door. Inside, the play room was dimly lit, the air cool and smelling of leather and metal. In the center stood a standing rack, leather cuffs dangling from its corners.
“Stand still,” Boss ordered.
He secured Billy’s wrists first, stretching his arms high above his head. Then his ankles, forcing his legs wide apart. Billy was completely exposed, unable to move, unable to defend himself.
“There you go, all spread out for me. You’re mine to do with as I please now.”
Alpha stepped forward, tightening each strap with a final, sharp tug.
“Good and tight, Master. The boy will feel every inch of his helplessness.”
Boss moved behind Billy, his voice a low whisper near his ear.
“You think you’re ready for this, bitch? You have no idea what’s coming. I’m going to push you to your limits and beyond.”
A thick blindfold was tied over Billy’s eyes, plunging him into darkness. His breath hitched. The world shrank to the feeling of the cuffs on his skin and the sound of Boss’s movements.
Then came the touches—light, teasing, a fingertip trailing down his spine, a warm breath on the back of his neck. His body tensed, anticipating a blow that never came.
“Feel that, slut?” Boss’s voice was closer now. “That’s just a taste of what’s to come. You’re going to beg for it before we’re done.”
The sharp, electric crackle of a stun gun arcing near his skin made Billy flinch violently. He could feel the static in the air, the hair on his arms standing on end, but there was no contact. The anticipation was a form of torment in itself.
“Boy, you can do this,” Alpha’s voice said calmly from the side. “Embrace the fear. It’s what makes you a true slave. You’re safe with Master; he knows your limits.”
The fear built to a peak, and then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The blindfold was removed. Boss unlocked the cuffs, and Billy’s arms fell to his sides, tingling as blood rushed back into them.
“It’s time to move on to the next phase, slut. You’re going to learn what it means to truly serve,” Boss said, pointing to a low, padded bench. “Bend over. It’s time to open that tight little ass of yours.”
Billy complied, resting his chest on the cool leather. Alpha appeared with lube and a selection of plugs and dildos, laying them out neatly.
Boss started with his fingers, probing and stretching Billy slowly, methodically.
“Relax, slut. The more you fight it, the more it will hurt. Embrace your submission and open up for me.”
He worked Billy open gradually, moving from fingers to a small plug, then a larger one. Billy gasped at each new intrusion, his body clenching before yielding.
Boss selected a mid-sized plug, its girth a significant stretch. He coated it generously in lube.
“Let’s open this ass for a nice mid-sized plug,” Boss said, pressing the blunt head against Billy’s entrance. He pushed it in slowly but firmly, not stopping until the plug’s widest part had breached Billy’s rim and it seated itself deep inside, held fast by his clenched muscles.
Billy let out a choked sob, his body trembling from the intense, filling pressure.
“That’s it, bitch. Take it all. You’re doing so well. Soon, you’ll be begging for more.”
Boss gave the base of the plug a firm tap, making Billy’s whole body jolt.
4:45 PM — THE GARAGE
Boss dragged Billy into the garage, the plug shifting inside him with every hurried step. The space was a cavern of shadows and steel, smelling of ozone and cold concrete. In the center, the St. Andrew’s cross stood waiting.
“On the cross,” Boss commanded.
Billy complied, and Boss and Alpha moved with brutal efficiency. Thick leather cuffs were locked around his wrists and ankles, but instead of strapping him to the wood frame, Boss used chains. He yanked Billy’s arms high above his head, locking the wrist cuffs to an overhead ring, forcing him onto his toes. Then, he spread his legs wide, chaining the ankle cuffs to rings set in the concrete floor.
Billy was a human star, stretched taut and completely immobile, his plugged hole exposed and vulnerable.
Boss walked to the metal table, the clatter of instruments loud in the silence. He picked up the Erostek unit, its wires dangling like venomous tentacles. He held it in front of Billy’s face.
“See this, faggot? This is going to teach you what your nerves are really for.”
He moved closer, slapping the adhesive pads against Billy’s skin.
“One for that useless cock…” slap “…and one right next to that plug stretching your greedy shithole.”
The pads stuck with clinical precision. Then he held up a stun gun, its tip arcing with a menacing blue crackle.
“And this… this is for when I want you to remember who owns the air you breathe.”
He didn’t use it yet. He just let the sound fill the air, letting the fear build.
He turned the Erostek to its lowest setting and flipped the switch. A low, insistent buzzing began deep inside Billy. It crawled through his taint, making his plugged asshole clench rhythmically around the thick silicone shaft. His cock twitched involuntarily, a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip.
His muscles began to spasm, his breath hitching in sharp gasps. He struggled against the chains, a futile, clattering effort that only made the cuffs bite deeper into his wrists.
“Struggle all you want, slave,” Boss sneered, cranking the dial. “That’s what a true victim does. Your body’s betraying you already—look at that leaky cockhead.”
The Erostek suddenly surged to maximum. Electricity ripped through his cock and asshole like lightning, making his balls clench tight and his plugged hole spasm violently around the thick silicone shaft.
“Feel that, you fucking electro-slut? Your nuts are dancing for me. That plug’s turning your guts into a live wire.”
Billy’s vision blurred, his body arching against the chains in a full-body convulsion.
Something hot splattered onto his chest. Wax. It hit his nipples like molten fire, searing his skin and running in thick rivulets down his trembling torso.
“That’s it, pig. Let it drip down to that leaking fag-cock of yours. You’re my wax-dripping fucktoy now.”
Each drop was a small explosion of pain contrasting the deep, humming agony of the electricity pulsing through his core. He couldn’t see it coming through the hood. He couldn’t prepare. He could only endure as Boss toyed with him mercilessly.
Then came the stun gun. He didn’t hear it over his own panicked breathing and the crackling electricity. He only felt it—a blinding, savage bite of pure voltage on his inner thigh, right next to his swinging balls. His body convulsed like he’d been hit by a cattle prod, every muscle seizing.
“Scream for me, you pathetic voltage-bitch!”
A moment later, another jolt seared his other thigh. Then one slammed into his stomach, making his abs contract violently.
The tears came then, hot and silent, soaking the inside of the leather hood. His struggles ceased. He sagged in his chains, a sobbing, broken thing, accepting each new wave of torment with pathetic, muffled whimpers.
A deep, mocking laugh cut through the haze.
“Listen to him cry like a little bitch-baby. Is that what you are, fag? A sniveling electro-pig who can’t handle Master’s toys?”
“He’s pathetic, Master,” Alpha’s voice joined in, closer now. “Just a drooling, wax-covered mess leaking for more.”
The degradation was a final, crushing blow. He was a spectacle. A toy. A crying, pathetic victim for their amusement.
The hood kept him guessing, kept him terrified of where the next jolt of pain, the next drop of scalding wax, the next wave of humiliating filth would come from. He hung in the darkness, suffering exactly as Boss intended—a quivering, electrified, wax-coated fuckpig.
6:00 PM — PROPERTY AND CARE
The torment stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The electric current died. The flow of hot wax ceased. The only sounds in the garage were Billy’s ragged, muffled sobs and the heavy, satisfied breathing of the two men watching him.
Boss lowered the winch, and Billy’s body went slack, his full weight sagging into the chains before his feet touched the floor. Alpha moved in first, unbuckling the gag. It fell from Billy’s mouth, and he drew in a harsh, shuddering breath, his jaw aching.
The hood was pulled off next, and the dim red light of the garage assaulted his tear-blurred vision. Alpha methodically unchained him, and Billy crumpled to the concrete floor, a trembling, sticky mess of wax and sweat.
“Get up,” Boss commanded, his voice devoid of the earlier mockery, now flat and functional.
Billy couldn’t find the strength. Boss grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet, dragging him back toward the house. The plug was still buried deep inside him, a dull, throbbing reminder of his violation.
Inside, Boss guided Billy to the main bathroom. He positioned Billy under the warm spray of the large walk-in shower.
Boss took a soft cloth and soap, and began to wash Billy’s body himself. His movements were methodical and impersonal, like a prized collector cleaning a valuable, but inanimate, object. He gently scrubbed away the wax and sweat, paying careful attention to the reddened skin. He was thorough, cleaning every inch of his property. He even removed the plug, cleaned Billy’s tender hole with careful fingers, and then rinsed him clean.
Once Billy was clean and dry, Boss led him to the living room couch. He sat down and pulled Billy down beside him, positioning him across his lap.
“Good boy,” Boss murmured, his voice low and seductive.
He reached for a new plug from the side table—a longer, thicker one with a pronounced curve.
“This one’s special. It’s going to teach your hole to take what it needs.”
He coated it generously with lube and teased Billy’s entrance with the tip, circling slowly.
“Breathe into it. Feel it push deeper.”
Billy moaned as the plug stretched him, the curve pressing against his second sphincter, forcing it to yield. Boss worked it in with patient, seductive pressure, twisting and rocking until it seated itself deep inside.
“There. Now you can feel me even when I’m not there.”
He wrapped his arms around Billy, pulling him into a tight, possessive embrace. His strength was overwhelming, his scent a mix of leather, soap, and pure dominance. Billy’s body melted against him, the deep fullness of the plug and the security of Boss’s arms erasing the lingering trauma of the garage.
The fear was gone, replaced by a thrilling certainty—this was exactly where he belonged.
6:30 PM — DINNER TIME
Boss’s grip on Billy loosened.
“Dinner,” he said simply.
Billy remained on the couch as Boss and Alpha moved to set the dining table. Alpha served Boss a full plate of steak and potatoes, moving with quiet efficiency. He then placed a second, identical plate on the floor near Boss’s feet.
Boss pointed to the plate on the floor.
“Yours. Eat.”
Billy slid off the couch and knelt beside the plate. It was the same meal—perfectly cooked steak, roasted potatoes, a sprig of parsley. The quality of the food made the method of its delivery feel even more stark. He looked down at the steak, at the knife and fork on the table just out of reach.
“No utensils,” Boss said, his voice flat, not cruel, just stating a fact. “You’re an animal. Animals don’t use tools.”
Billy’s face burned. He lowered his head, hesitating for only a second before sinking his fingers into the thick cut of steak. The grease coated his hands. He tore off a piece and brought it to his mouth, chewing mechanically. He ate with his hands, getting sauce and grease on his face and fingers, while Boss at the table cut his own steak with precision and ate with a fork.
“Head down,” Boss said without looking at him. “You eat what I give you. That’s the rule.”
Billy kept his gaze fixed on the plate, eating until every bit of the steak and potatoes was gone, his hands and face a messy testament to his station.
7:30 PM — POST-DINNER SERVICE
“Kitchen’s a mess,” Boss said, pushing his chair back from the table. He looked down at Billy, whose face and hands were slick with grease and sauce. “Clean it.”
Boss left the room, his heavy footsteps fading down the hall, leaving the two of them alone.
Alpha immediately knelt, his head bowed.
“Master’s orders are clear. Let’s get to work.”
He led Billy to the sink first.
“Here, boy,” he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to Boss’s. He took a cloth, wet it, and gently began to wipe the grease from Billy’s face and hands. His touch was careful, almost tender. “We can’t clean the kitchen if you’re just going to smear food everywhere. Now we work together, we get it done, and we make him proud. Understand?”
Billy nodded, his eyes bright with excitement.
“Good. Now, you wash, I’ll dry.”
They worked in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the slosh of water and the clatter of plates. Alpha was efficient, showing Billy how to tackle the stubborn spots on the floor, how to wipe the counters without leaving streaks. He worked with a practiced acceptance that Billy found both inspiring and deeply alluring.
After a while, Alpha spoke again, his voice barely a whisper.
“The first time I ate like that, I thought I’d come right there on the floor.”
Billy stopped scrubbing and looked at him, a grin spreading across his face.
“Thank you,” Billy said, his voice full of genuine gratitude. “For showing me. It was… so hot. Feeling his eyes on me, eating like that. I’ve never felt so… right.”
Alpha smiled back, a genuine, shared moment of understanding passing between them.
“That’s the feeling. The garage was a test. You passed it. The fear, the pain—it all makes the service sweeter. Master knows exactly how much you can take, and he takes you there because he owns you completely. That’s why we crave it.”
Billy nodded, the words settling into place like puzzle pieces. The terror of the chains and electricity was still fresh, but it was transformed now—no longer trauma, but proof of his worthiness. The humiliation of eating from the floor, the ache of the deep plug inside him—it all felt right. He was exactly where he was meant to be.
They worked for another half hour, a quiet rhythm developing between them. Billy started to anticipate Alpha’s movements, handing him the dry cloth when he needed it, moving to the next section without being told.
When the kitchen was spotless, every surface gleaming under the lights, Alpha stood up.
“Good job,” he said, giving Billy a slight, approving nod.
He then knelt in the center of the clean floor, assuming the waiting position just as Boss returned to the doorway.
Boss inspected the room, his gaze sweeping over the gleaming surfaces before landing on his two slaves. He gave a curt nod.
“Acceptable. Alpha, take him to the cage. It’s time for his nap.”
Alpha rose, clipped the leash onto Billy’s collar, and led him away from the small, shared moment of camaraderie and back into the comforting reality of his submission.
9:30 PM — WAKING AND SEXUAL USE
The sound of the cage lock clicking open was what woke Billy.
A hand, large and firm, gripped the leather collar around his neck and pulled. Not a violent yank, but a steady, unyielding pressure that demanded compliance. Billy scrambled out of the kennel onto the floor, his body still groggy with sleep, the deep plug a constant, comforting pressure inside him.
Boss loomed over him. He reached between Billy’s legs and gripped the base of the plug. With a slow, deliberate twist, he pulled it free. Billy gasped at the sudden emptiness, a lewd, sucking sound that made his face flush.
“Do not speak. Obey fully.”
“Yes, Boss,” Billy breathed, the words automatic.
A sharp, stinging slap cracked across his cheekbone, snapping his head to the side.
“Eyes to the floor. Keep your mouth shut.”
Billy’s gaze dropped instantly to the floorboards, his cheek burning hot. He heard Boss move away, his boots thudding on the hardwood.
“Crawl. Follow.”
He crawled, the leash swaying beside him, his knees protesting on the hard floor, up the stairs and into the master bedroom.
The scene was already set, the air thick with the scent of leather and musk. Alpha was kneeling by the bed, naked and achingly hard, his body a perfect picture of readiness, his thick cock standing proud and flushed with blood.
Boss pointed to Alpha, then to the floor in front of him. Billy understood.
He crawled across the cold floorboards until his face was inches from Alpha’s straining flesh. He took the leaking cockhead into his mouth without hesitation, tasting the salty, bitter bead of pre-cum on his tongue, sucking it clean.
As Billy began to bob his head, taking more and more of Alpha’s length into his throat, gagging as it hit the back of his palate, Boss moved behind him. A cold, slicked finger, smelling faintly of lube, pressed against Billy’s hole, then shoved inside without ceremony, twisting and stretching him open.
Boss worked him open with his hand, first one finger, then two, scissoring them deep until the muscle began to yield.
“Greedy little faggot,” Boss growled, his breath hot against Billy’s neck. “Your hole is sucking my fingers in. Begging for it.”
Boss positioned himself behind Billy and, without warning, drove his thick, veiny cock in deep, punching the air from Billy’s lungs. Billy choked around Alpha’s shaft as his body was filled from both ends, spit and tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.
They set a brutal, coordinated rhythm, a symphony of service. Boss fucked him with deep, grinding strokes, the fat head of his cock battering Billy’s prostate with every thrust, forcing helpless, broken moans around Alpha’s meat. Alpha face-fucked him mercilessly, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, hips pistoning, balls slapping wetly against Billy’s chin and throat.
“Swallow it all, throat-whore. Choke on Alpha’s cock, you gagging bitch.”
The room filled with the raunchy, wet sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, muffled gagging, and the low, guttural grunts of men using a toy. Billy was simply a vessel for their use, a conduit for their lust, a tight, wet hole and a willing throat.
Boss’s rhythm grew erratic, his grip tightening on Billy’s hips like a vise.
“Take every fucking inch, you greedy hole. Milk my dick like the cum-dump you were born to be.”
With a final, guttural roar, he slammed deep and flooded Billy’s insides with his release, hot and thick, pulsing into his guts. A moment later, Alpha tensed, his cock throbbing violently as he emptied himself deep in Billy’s throat, the salty, bitter load hitting the back of his tongue, forcing Billy to swallow convulsively or choke.
As Boss pulled out with a wet, sucking pop, Alpha withdrew his slick, spent cock from Billy’s swollen lips.
Alpha immediately maneuvered Billy onto his back on the floor. He pushed Billy’s legs up and apart, exposing his used, cum-leaking hole, a mess of lube and Boss’s seed already beginning to drip onto the floorboards.
Without a word, Alpha lowered his head and began to eat the load from Billy’s ass, his tongue lapping and slurping at Boss’s cum as it dripped out, pushing it back inside, feasting on the filthy offering.
Billy lay there, a used, trembling mess, his own cock achingly hard and untouched, purple and weeping with desperate, denied pre-cum.
“You don’t get to spill, pig,” Alpha murmured, looking up from his work, his chin glistening. “That’s not for you. Your only job is to be used and filled.”
10:30 PM — POST-PLAY AND ABANDONMENT
Boss collapsed onto the bed with a satisfied sigh, watching as Alpha finished cleaning Billy’s hole with his tongue.
Once he was done, Alpha rose to his feet. He went to a small chest by the wall and returned with a set of chains and leather cuffs.
Boss gave a lazy wave of his hand, his only order.
Alpha efficiently secured the cuffs around Billy’s wrists and ankles. He grabbed a handful of Billy’s hair and pulled him to the foot of the bed, forcing him to lie on the floor. Alpha chained Billy’s wrists to the bed frame, spreading his arms wide. He then chained his ankles, leaving him spread-eagled on the carpet—dirty, cum-soaked, and sweaty.
Alpha stood up, looked down at Billy once, and then went to kneel in his own corner of the room, his duty done.
Billy lay there, his body thrumming with a confusing cocktail of sensations. He was scared by the intensity of the use, confused by the denial of his own desperate need, and still profoundly horny. His mind raced, trying to process the brutal service, the unexpected intimacy of Alpha’s actions, and the final, cold abandonment.
He was a fucking faggot pig, chained to the floor like an afterthought.
Boss rolled over in bed, turning his back to the scene at his feet. He said nothing.
The room fell into a heavy silence, leaving Billy alone with his racing thoughts, the smell of sex thick in the air, and the feeling of chains biting into his skin.
He closed his eyes, the exhaustion finally pulling him under into a restless, fitful sleep.
— END —