Chapter One

Jack could feel the headache pounding in his head spread down his neck and shoulders into his numbed arms. He felt like he had finally gone and just fell asleep on the tiled floor of the kitchen, not even bothering to find his bedroom or the couch. Barely half-awake, he tried to roll over and continue to sleep in a post-school haze, but the jagged pain arching through his shoulders when he tried to move made his eyes open with a grunt of pain.

He didn’t recognize this room. This wasn’t his mom’s or his dad’s, and when he tried to sit up his arms and legs didn’t move. They were held tight in place that had completely numbed his hands and feet. Were those fucking ropes? Jack strained and squirmed, little moans of pain escaping as his muscles protested.

His mind raced to try and figure out where the hell he was. His geometry teacher had let them out, and Jack had ripped off his uniform’s tie as soon as he passed the gate per usual. He had walked past the closer corner drug store, because the asshole attendant would only let two kids in the store at once so the line was always out the door, and gone to one several blocks away because none of the other students went there. He had snagged his usual after school soda and bag of cheetos, and he could taste the cheese powder when he licked his lips.

But he couldn’t remember anything else.

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he cursed under his breath, because his brain had finally assessed that whatever happened, this was not a place he wanted to be. His wrists were tied to his opposite elbow, bent behind his back and pulling on his shoulders. His ankles had been lashed together and then tied with a short length to rope wrapped around his thighs, giving him no slack except a few aborted kicks. There was no way to stand up. “Shit!”

“It’s about time you woke up.” The voice made Jack jerk with surprise. His whipped his head around as far as he could, and noticed a bed behind him. A man was lounging on the edge, broad shouldered and thick armed, a faint trace of amusement on his face.

“What the fuck is this? Where am I?” Jack demanded, trying to squirm around to get a better view of the guy.

“Your language is something we are definitely going to have to work on,” The man stated calmly, and nudged Jack’s back with a leather shoe. “I won’t stand a vulgar mouth.”

“You bastard, let me go!” Jack snapped. The pin and needle feeling in his limbs was getting horrible, and he had no clue how long he had been tied up.

The stranger stood, and Jack noted he loomed well above his dad. He calmly undid the buttons on the cuffs of his dress shirt and began to roll them up. “I guess it’s time for your first lesson.”

The backhand to Jack’s cheek came suddenly and almost slammed his head back into the cold tile. Jack’s vision swam and he tasted blood. His headache screamed in protest as a faint cry escaped.

Jack felt hands on him, lifting him like he weighed nothing as he was tossed onto the bed with a bounce face-down. He was only vaguely aware through the pain in his head that his legs were being unbound, and pulled apart. The cramped muscles shot arcs of pain, worse than any soccer match aches.

“Your life has just had a significant change,” Jack heard from behind him as he was pulled to the edge of the bed by his dead-weight legs. “You belong to me now. Your body? Mine. Your mind? Mine. Your feelings, your pain, your pleasure? All mine. Nothing is yours now. It may take a little while for you to grasp that.”

“What,” Jack asked hazily, and tried to kick at his captor. His leg made a funny jiggle, but was caught and stretched out to the side. Something wrapped around his ankle, and he couldn’t move his leg anymore. “Hey-!” The same was done to the other leg, stretching him apart so he couldn’t stand up even with his feet on the floor. His ass stuck over the side of the bed.

A sudden sense of dread struck him.

His kidnapped had continued talking in a smooth, calm voice. “You will believe that, and know your place soon enough. It will be hard on you, but it doesn’t have to be unbearable. Understand?”

“No,” Jack grunted, struggling to stand up. He was so off balance he couldn’t even flop. “No no no-“

“You see, I think you’re a very pretty boy.” Fingers stroked through his hair. “But pain makes even repulsive people attractive. So you will be breathtaking.” The fingers moved down to his neck, and pressed on a point behind Jack’s ear.

Jack shrieked as hot needles were pressed into the spot and spread in fire from there. He jerked violently to escape, but there was no where to go. He fought against the nausea as the fingers moved and a hand stroked down his back, fingering along the ropes and bound arms. “I am going to torture you. A lot. I will mark you, and I will hurt you. You will wind up begging me to kill you. But I won’t, and you won’t be able to kill yourself. Even that escape has been stripped from you.” The hand tugged at the waistband of Jack’s uniform slacks. “You’re going to be with me for a long, long time. If you’re good, and obedient, maybe someday you’ll learn to love the pain. And you’ll be happy.”

“Don’t touch me you sick bastard!” But the words came out with less strength than Jack hoped. He felt cold metal slide into his waistband, and with a snipping sound, his pants sliced open. “No-NO!”

“Scream all you like, my pet. No one is going to hear you.” His pants were stripped away into rags and tossed aside. His briefs were quick to follow, as Jack shrieked in protest. A hot weight pressed against his backend and along his back as his captor leaned over to whisper hot in his ear. “And I love your fear.”

A hand pressed against Jack’s ass, massaging the almost-non-existent padding before sliding along the crack. “One day, you will give yourself willingly to me, because your pain will sometimes stop for a little while.” Jack trembled as fingers found their target.

“Don’t-“

A finger pressed in, and Jack howled.

“You bastard! You bastard! Let me go! Stop it!”

“I would dry fuck you,” the man continued on casually, thrusting his finger deeper into the teenager’s ass. “But I don’t intend to damage you beyond repair.”

The finger withdrew, and Jack was on the verge of tears as the true realization of his situation hit him. He was a teenager – he was supposed to be at soccer practice – he wasn’t gay – he was still trying to convince Jen to let him go to third base – he – 

Jack screeched as something far larger than a finger pressed against his entrance. He thrashed, and his struggling helped force the lube-slick dick into him. Jack’s screams multiplied.

“NO! Don’t do this to me, Stop, Don’t- Don’t!”

“It’s okay pet,” came the hushing reply, as a violent thrust shoved Jack deeper into the bed. Jack choked for a second at the sudden burst of pain. “Remember, you are mine now.”

Jack kept screaming. His kidnapper’s dick was huge, thick and long inside him. All he could feel was pain. The thrusts came sharp and snapped, hammering Jack against the bed. Eventually Jack’s screams gave way to choking sobs, and all he could think about was the pain.

His captor grunted and stilled, a few shallow thrusts finishing him off. Jack’s hands clenched behind his back and he hid his face in the bedcovers. The dick stayed in Jack for a little while, the sharp stabbing pain giving way to a throbbing one as Jack wondered if he could bleed to death from his ass.

“You bastard.” It came out as a pathetic whimper, harsh against Jack’s sore throat.

There came a sigh, and the man pulled out of Jack and stepped back. “I’m going to have to punish you now.”

Jack’s head snapped up as he stared, watching the man wipe blood, semen and shit off his dick before tucking it back into dress slacks. “That wasn’t punishment enough?” Jack was surprised to hear the hysteria in his voice.

The man laughed, then moved to untie Jack’s legs and haul him up by his arms. ““Your bad language has to stop. You are to only call me Master or Sir.” The teen’s knees couldn’t support him, so he ended up being carried with one hand positioned between his legs and squeezing his softened dick. “You didn’t know any better, but I won’t let ignorance be an excuse.”

Jack was set on a high table, legs quickly cuffed to be spread open on the table before he could try to kick. Cuffs were attached around his wrists before he was untied. Jack squirmed as blood rushed back into his arms and fingers, but they felt boneless as his arms were stretched above his head and locked down. “You may always beg for mercy,” the man continued as he worked, “And scream out your pain. But you will call me Master or Sir when you do it.”

“Go to hell.” Jack felt moisture sliding out of him while his captor cut away his uniform’s sweater vest and shirt.

“And you are not to swear,” The man added, and suddenly the table started to tilt. Jack’s head went down and his feet went up, stopping at an angle that was awkward for Jack to lift his head from. “Now say, ‘yes Master’.”

“Fuck you,” Jack said dizzily as blood rushed to his head.

The man merely shrugged, and grasped Jack’s balls. Before Jack could shriek, they were twisted sharply. A high scream escaped instead.

“Language, pet,” the man scolded lightly, and eased his grip, just to twist them the other way.

“Stop!”

“ ‘Stop, Master’,”  came the patient reprimand, and a sharp slap to the still contorted flesh. Jack screamed again as several slaps followed, legs and arms jerking against the cuffs and head trying to slam against the table. The grip eased again. “I’m not asking very much. Just say it.” Then the sack was sharply pulled, twisting both ways, and Jack screamed as a band was wrapped around the extended flesh. “I really should just take these off,” the man continued conversationally, with a harsh slap and squeeze. “So you’ll never lose your high voice and boyish features. But then I can’t punish you with them. Such decisions to make to my pet.”

Jack’s screams pitched. Just say it, just say it! The pain grew worse with every slap, pinch, and twist. He could see his balls were turning an ugly shade of red, and the band separating them from his body was getting tighter as they swelled.

Then without consent of his conscious mind, Jack cried out. “Master! Stop! Master, please, please stop!”

The pain dropped back to a growling burn in an instant, and Jack went slack with relief as a sob escaped. “See how easy that was pet? How satisfying it is to be good? Now, say it again.”

Jack sobbed at his weakness. The pause caused his torturer to grasp and twist his balls again. “MASTER!” he shrieked.

His master smiled, satisfied. The table tilted again, past even to where Jack was now upright. Blood rushed from his face, and he gasped for air like he had been choking. “Good boy,” his master crooned, and stroked Jack’s hair like a dog. “What do you call me?”

“M-master...”

“And what do you not saying?”

That took a moment more of thinking. “B-bad words.”

His master frowned. “Bad words…?” he trailed off, and moved to grab Jack’s abused balls again.

“Master!” Jack gasped, jerking in his restraints. “Bad words, Master!”

“Good boy. Very good boy.” His master smiled, and Jack could see the cruelty there. He took Jack’s balls in hand anyway, earning a shriek from the captive boy, and attached a heavy weight to the band.

Jack screamed when his master let go and the weight yanked on the bruised ballsack. “I said Master! I said Master!” Jack screamed.

“I know,” His master returned to stroking Jack’s hair. “But let’s make sure you learn your lesson. That is a vibrator. It will go off every fifteen minutes.” He tugged on Jack’s platinum blonde locks, tilting the boy’s head back to observe the streaky tears there. “Each time, I want you to repeat your lesson out loud as long as it vibrates.”

“Please,” Jack sobbed, certain the weight was getting heavier by the second. “Please, please, m-master-“

“And to make it easier on you later…” His master stepped aside for a moment, collecting something from a little table nearby. “I’m going to pump your ass with a dildo to stretch you.”

Jack couldn’t stop the guttural cries as his master pawed around his abused entrance for a moment, before the small-ish dildo slipped in easily. His master began to squeeze the pump, and in a few squeeze Jack could feel the pressure inside against the raw flesh.

He gasped out with each pump until his master was satisfied, and let the pump drop to hand obscenely between Jack’s legs. “You can consider this very small,” his master informed him, a hand idly playing with Jack’s dick. Jack couldn’t believe that, the plug inside him felt huge. Then the vibration started, rattling against the binding on his balls and making him choke in pain. “Your lesson, pet,” his master warned.

“Master!” Jack felt something inside him curl up and die. “Master! I call you Master, and -and- no bad words!”

The vibrating continued while his master smirked and stroked him. Jack just kept babbling, near incoherent, until the vibrating came to a blissful stop. The weight felt heavier than ever, and the dildo was horribly uncomfortable and the constant pain-

“Good boy. Now, continue, until you learn your lesson.”

“NO!” Jack couldn’t believe this. He couldn’t be subjected to this torture. His privates couldn’t take any more of this. The angry look on his master’s face made Jack add, “No, master, no! I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I don’t think you have,” his master replied. He gave a playful swat to Jack’s dick, jostling his balls and the weight and causing a howl. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Thank you to the kind Sirs or Ma’ams who sent messages about this story. i am glad You are at least somewhat entertained or pleased with it.

Chapter Two

Jack thought eternity had passed before his Master returned. He had tried to keep track of the vibrator going off, but lost count after ten. When he saw the tall man return, he barely had the voice to beg, “Master, please make it stop. Please.”

“Good boy,” his Master stroked his hair. “See, that wasn’t so hard to learn, was it?”

The vibrating started again, and Jack squeak of pain immediately gave way to broken gasps of “Master, please please Master-”

Jack felt his cock and now very bruised balls being jostled for a moment before the vibrating ended and the weight was removed. Jack drew in ragged breaths, resting his tear-streaked face against his arm. “Don’t forget your lesson, or we’ll have to go over it again.”

The withering reply died on Jack’s tongue as he nodded wearily. His Master’s fingers threaded through his hair and pulled his head down. Jack saw a collar in the other hand and he jerked away, but the grip in his hair kept him still while the leather wrapped around his neck. Something in the collar was digging into his throat, and he could feel it stab when he swallowed. “W-what are you doing?” he asked, the quickly added, “Master.”

His Master hummed his approval as he fastened the collar in the back. “A little gift I picked up from the pet store.” He gave a few tugs on Jack’s hair. “It’s a high end electric collar, and it’s set at max. The clerk assured me it can take down a 200 pound Rottweiler, or a 100 pound mutt.”

Jack jerked his head up and glared. But his still throbbing groin kept him from cursing his Master out for the collar. Then his Master tilted the table again, and blood rushed back into Jack’s arms and fingers. The pain and needle feeling came back, making Jack squirm. His ankle were released from the table straps, and then tied together. Jack waited for his arms to freed, and moved to hit his kidnapper despite his arms felt like dead weights. The swing was pathetic, and his Master almost looked amused as restrained Jack and lashed his arms up to his elbows together in front of him.

“It’s good to see that your fighting spirit rebounds quickly.” He hoisted Jack into his arms, jostling his ballsack and causing a squeak of pain. “I would hate to break you so early.” Then he moved for the doorway. “Now, if you’re a good boy, you’ll stay in the room and wait for me even when I’m not there.” Jack knew that was never happening. “But if you go outside…”

His Master dropped him through the doorway. The collision with the floor was almost forgotten as an electric arc ripped through Jack. He tried to scream, but no noise came out except some guttural groans. He arched and twisted and thrashed as the cyclical pain coursed, ebbing and peaking. Just when he thought the pain would make him pass out, the cycle would drop again and just barely touch back on bearable.

Jack was dragged backwards, and despite the shock stopping, Jack kept twitching in the aftershock. “Understand what happens if you try to leave?”

Jack shuddered, and tried to claw at the collar until his Master reached down and released the pressure on the buttplug, then pulled it out. His Master held the shit-covered plug in front of his face. “This is unacceptable, pet.” He swatted the plug across Jack’s back with a slick smack. “Crawl to the bathroom to be cleaned.” He pointed to a doorway.

It took Jack a few awkward tries to get to his knees and his elbows with his arms bound up to his elbows and his ankles tied together. His balance was horribly off as he struggled to shuffle forward like an inchworm. Apparently his Master thought he wasn’t moving fast enough, and smacked Jack’s ass. It knocked Jack off balance, and he had to fight to stay upright. He could only move a few inches at a time, with his Master ‘encouraging’ him, and was starting to sweat from the effort by the time he reached the bathroom threshold. He fell over once inside.

His Master didn’t mean to give him a moment to rest, though. He hauled the boy up by his forearms, the still sore-muscles protesting. Jack was deposited on the hard porcelain of the tub. His Master pulled down a showerhead nozzle that was long and thin with a black rubber section at the base that also had a pump. Jack struggled to get to his knees and elbows on the slick porcelain while his Master smeared lube over the nozzle end.

“Don’t-” Jack started.

“Shut up or I’ll gag you.”

“But the collar – won’t it –” Jack tried to reason while his Master reached down and spread his cheeks.

“I already turned it off for your bath,” his Master said calmly, and slid the enema nozzle into Jack’s ass. Jack whimpered loudly at how cold it was on the abused flesh and tried to move away. His Master smacked Jack on his butt in reprimand. Jack yelped and clenched around the nozzle as his Master pulled it out before shoving it back in with a hard push. Jack scrunched his eyes shut and tried not to cry as the nozzle was twisted and thrusted at angles that made aborted little squeaks rise in Jack’s throat. With a final deep plunge, the bulb at the base started to inflate. “Now,” His Master started, “This will be uncomfortable. But you have to hold it until I tell you to release.”

“Don’t- this is gross-”

“You’ve forgotten your lesson already?” His Master tisked, swatted his ass again which was starting to sting, then turned the water on. Jack didn’t feel much at first, but the pressure began to build. He shifted on his knees as best he could. He felt the swelling in his abdomen and it started to hurt. Jack was horribly disgusted, but bit back the swears he wanted to hurl.

“Stop it!” He choked out. “Stop it, Master!”

His Master grabbed his face and squeezed, forcing his jaw open. He shoved dildo with straps into his mouth, and the straps fastened around Jack’s head. The dildo was a huge girth, forcing his teeth apart, but short enough Jack could feel it against the back of his throat when he swallowed hard.

“I told you to shut up,” his Master scolded. “You need to be a good boy.”

Jack whimpered at the weight in his abdomen, as the muscles started to cramp. He tried to push the gag out with his tongue, drool beginning to leak from his mouth.

Finally his Master stopped the water, and stroked his hair again. “Hold it, pet.”

Jack could only give a warble of protest around the dildo gag. He bowed his head and mentally cursed out his captor for the next several long minutes that felt like eternity. He was fairly certain his Master was reading a book and completely ignoring Jack’s pain, like it was a TV turned on for noise.

When his Master removed the nozzle, the brown water unevenly spurted from Jack’s ass. He clenched his fingers and screwed his eyes shut at the humiliating feeling as the smell rankled in his nose. He could feel the thick water around his bounds arms inches in front of his face, and turned away from it. The leather strap on his cheek pressed into his shoulder, and the collar dug into his neck. The unfairness of the entire situation hit him, and he started to sob.

His Master ignored his pathetic crying, and the enema process was repeated twice more.

The water was running near clear and the stench had dropped when he finished. Jack felt completely drained as his Master turned on the normal showerhead and rinsed down the tub and Jack. He dumped a bottle of body soap over Jack’s body and took a rough pad to his skin, scrubbing the sweat and shit from his skin. He paid special attention to Jack’s ass, rubbing hard along his crack and abused hole. Jack screamed around the gag as the pad scrubbed across his cock and balls, which his Master paid particular attention to.

Jack got pulled from the tub and set on the bathroom floor on his knees, feeling raw and hollow. He was carelessly patted down, left damp and shivering slightly when his Master stepped back and pulled down his pants, revealing his huge cock nearly 9 inches long and too big for Jack’s hand to fit around, standing at attention. Jack turned to look away, but his Master grabbed his hair and pulled his forward. “Normally I’d pound your pretty face,” his Master smirked, “But I don’t trust those teeth yet. So use your hands. And if you please me, I’ll let you rest tonight.”

Jack glared, and his hair was pulled harshly. With a hard swallow, Jack lifted his hands and wrapped them both around his cock. He tried to replicate the pumping movement he did to himself in the bathroom at home. When he tried to squeeze to take out his anger, his Master only thrusted forward. A few minutes passed before his Master’s grip in his hair tightened, and he came all over Jack’s face.

He smirked at Jack’s disgusted expression. When Jack moved to wipe his face, his Master smacked his hands. “Crawl to the bed.”

Jack balked. He knew perfectly well what would happen if he obeyed. His ass felt flayed open, his butt burned from the multiple swats, and his balls throbbed.

His Master simply smirked at the expression on Jack’s face. “I guess you need another lesson.”

Jack started to shake his head in protest, his Master hoisting him like a disobedient dog and half-dragging Jack back into the large bedroom that served as Jack’s private hell.

He threw Jack back onto the table, setting off sheer panic in the boy just by the table itself. His arms were drawn up above his head, still tied together, and strapped down. Same with his ankles.

Jack was already shaking when his Master pulled up a chair beside the table. “Now this lesson is simple.” His Master’s tone was light and almost playful as he started to stroke his broad hand down Jack’s hairless chest. “You are to obey me.” He tweaked Jack’s nipple, rolling the tip between his fingernails and tugging hard. Jack yelped around the gag and arched his back. “That’s all it is. When I tell you to do something, you do it. You have no choice. That’s all.” With his free hand, his Master opened a drawer in the stand next to the table, and pulled out a box. From the box came a long needle. Jack’s eyes flew open and he jerked to get away. “Understand, pet?” Jack’s nipple was twisted again. “Obey.” And with that, his Master plunged the needle completely through Jack’s skin.

Jack screamed, choking on the gag. There wasn’t a pause to breathe before a second needle was pushed through, running parallel at the top and bottom of his nipple. Jack’s muffled screams ripped through him, thrashing against the restraints. He hated getting shots – this was a thousand times worse. Jack started to gag and choke for air as his nose filled with snot from tears. His Master finally removed the dildo, and despite Jack’s sore mouth and jaw his screams turned to immediate begging.

“Master, Master, please, stop, please Master stop-“

Another needle was inserted, and another, creating a little box around Jack’s nipple. Jack couldn’t stop screaming, as his Master used the crossing needles to pull on Jack’s nipple. He twisted and tilted the little set up like a puzzle game. When he let the needles go to relax the skin and Jack’s screams settled to pathetic whimpering and desperate gasps around sobs, his Master commented, “Now, I should attach an electrical current to these for a while – but I think you’ve had enough ‘shock’ for one day.” His Master smirked. “Now, what was your lesson?”

“Obey,” Jack choked out. “O-obey, Master.”

“Minimalistic, but sufficient.” His Master moved around the table.

“Master, don’t-“

“Don’t pretend you don’t want it,” his Master scolded idly, pulling and tweaking the other nipple until it was hard, “You practically begged for another lesson.” He punctuated the sentence with another needle.

Jack screamed as the same treatment was done, then was his Master alternatively tugged on the needles, rolling them or twisting the whole set, or pulling on the tip of the nipple itself which hurt the worst as the pierced skin stretched. Blood was trailing down Jack’s chest and his nipples had gone from a healthy dusky pink to near purple.

“Master please, I’ll obey. I’ll obey,” Jack sobbed.

“Will you?” The pain exploded on both sides.

“Yes! Master! Master please! I’ll obey!”

“Hmmm…” The twisting was driving Jack insane. “Alright.”

The pain died back to the consistent drone, and Jack gulped in air for relief. The withdrawl of the needles didn’t even register in his brain. Then his Master bent down and bit hard on one of the abused patches of skin. Jack shrieked.

“Remember your lesson, pet.” His Master undid the bindings on the table, flipped Jack over to his stomach and pulled the boy to the edge of the table. Jack’s legs dangled while his Master undid his pants, reached for the ever-constant lube, slicked himself up in one swipe, and shoved inside. Jack cried out as the thrust rubbed his chest against the tabletop. His mind retreated – his Master was taking out his lust on the same body he used to arouse it. His Master thrusting harshly behind him was another bleeding wound to the long list of atrocities committed against him today. Each thrust brought a new wave of pain from every location – his redden ass, his tortured balls, his abused nipples. Jack couldn’t stop sobbing and shaking.

Jack barely noticed that his Master had finished, until he withdrew and smacked Jack on the ass again. “Now.” He pulled Jack unsteadily to his feet, and untied the boy’s hands. Jack was still shaking too hard to acknowledge that his hands were free at first. “Prove your lesson to me, or you’ll experience the electric current tonight.” He then pointed at the floor at the foot of the bed. “Lie down on your stomach, and put your hands behind your back.”

Jack shakily slid to his knees, giving only one glance to the door out of the room before scooting slowly along to where he was told to go, dragging his still-bound feet. His nipples screamed in protest at contact with the tile floor, but Jack rested his fevered cheek against the welcome coolness and put his wrists together behind his back.

His Master watched, a high degree of satisfaction on his face. “Good boy.” He bound Jack’s wrists together. “Obeying is much easier, isn’t it?”

Jack only shut his eyes, suddenly horribly tired despite how much pain he was in. A disconnected part of his brain wondered who would put tile as the flooring in a bedroom.

The inflatable buttplug was shoved gracelessly into Jack’s ass and pumped up again. He wasn’t sure if his Master actually stopped to use lube or not, but he was still slick and dripping anyways. Then his knees were bent and his ankles tied together and to his wrists, arching Jack’s back. Jack squirmed around in the position, until his Master flipped him on his side. Jack couldn’t help the cry of pain as his Master grabbed his balls, slipping a knot in the rope around them and tightening it. When he rolled Jack back onto his stomach, he pulled the rope taunt up his asscrack, around the rope binding his wrists and ankles together, then around his collar.

“Master, don’t-“ Jack tried to shift, and his plea ended in a shriek as his bruised and stretched balls were pulled on. Any movement he made resulted in the rope tightening around his ballsack. “Let me out of this, please Master- Please-”

“You beg so prettily already, pet,” his Master crooned. “Think hard on your lessons through the night, and we’ll review them in the morning.”

“No! Master, please! Untie me, please!” Jack watched as the man moved to get ready for bed.

“As much as I love hearing your pleas, I want to fall asleep to your whimpers and cries of pain. Any loud noises or speaking will earn you five spankings each.”

Jack couldn’t believe this. There was no way in hell he could sleep like this! “But Master-“

“Five.” His Master smirked sadistically. “Sleep well, pet.”

Jack sobbed, the tears flowing freely. Every twitch in his arms or legs resulting in sharp spikes of pain from his crotch – there was no more single spot down there that hurt, it was radiating torment. He cried hopelessly at his suddenly horrible and meager lot in life.

Chapter Three

Jack slept fitfully throughout the night. He tried to worm his way to the door for a bit, but the position was too difficult and the pain nearly intolerable. The collar digging into his throat was another obstacle he wasn’t sure how to overcome. So he tried to sleep. The cycle of drifting off, moving in his sleep and causing pain, and waking up again was monotonous. At some point he developed the need to use the bathroom. He only noticed the room had no windows when he tried to figure out when the sun would rise. He had no gauge of time, and nothing to distract himself from his thoughts until he drifted off again.

He did have several half-baked ideas of escape or rescue and anger that had roiled and built by the time his master’s alarm went off.

Jack was glaring daggers as his master went through the process of waking up before he lazily glanced around, smiling darkly when he spotted Jack.

“Good morning, pet.”

The ‘fuck you’ was perched on his tongue, but the horrible ache in his groin reminded him of his first lesson.

His master got up and knelt by Jack, stroking down his back and rump like he was a dog. Then he pumped Jack’s plug up a time or two, causing a squeak of discomfort. Jack had almost gotten used to the stretch in his ass.

“You need forty spankings for waking me up, pet,” his master informed him. “Would you like your punishment or food first?”

Jack had made up his mind during the night that there was no way he was accepting food. He figured a kidnapper wouldn’t hesitate to drug it.

His Master untied the rope around Jack’s collar and finally released Jack’s balls. The relief from the pressure caused the pin and needle sensation and – Jack was horrified to notice – a hard-on.

It didn’t go unnoticed by his Master, either. Jack saw the man smirk as he released Jack’s legs from the hogtie. Jack couldn’t resist the urge to stretch, tugging against the bindings holding his ankles and wrists together, nor could he hold back the moan of pleasure as he did.

“I’m getting impatient, pet. I have things to do.” He rubbed his hand down Jack’s rump, squeezing his ass as he asked, “Well?” Jack refused to answer, and turned his face away.

The squeeze turned to a swat. Jack barely bit back the yelp of surprise, and the small pressure in his bladder was forgotten.

Then he was being hauled up towards the bed and pulled across his Master’s lap. The next blow was not a playful swat from the hand, but harsher and blunter. Jack whipped his head around to see the paddle in his Master’s grip. His Master’s hand clasped around the back of Jack’s neck, pressing on the nerve bundle behind his ear again. Jack screeched in pain.

“This morning was so promising, pet. I gave you a choice – something that is not going to happen often.” The next blow landed in the middle of Jack’s ass cheeks, driving the inflated plug in deeper. All Jack could do was cry out a strangled plea to stop.

“This is your punishment, pet. You still haven’t learned to obey.” Another blow. “Fight all you want, but you will learn your lesson sooner or later.” And another.

“Master, stop-“

“Count them for me. Out loud.”

Jack wasn’t sure if the first spanking with his Master’s hand counted. He decided to err on the side of caution and shakily said, “F-Four.”

“How many to go?”

“Thirty- …thirty-six, Master.” He hated this – from the old pain in his groin and chest to the new pain of the spanking, the way the pump for the butt plug swung with each blow like an obscene tail, and how his Master was so easily extracting what he wanted from Jack’s mouth.

“Add ten for your lesson this morning.” His Master swung the paddle again, the resounding crack taking Jack’s breath away.

Jack coughed out “Five,” quickly followed by “Six, Seven, Eight-“

Jack’s father hadn’t spanked Jack since before the divorce, and Jack’s mom didn’t believe in physical punishment. So the burning pain in his ass was wholly unfamiliar and escalated quickly. Jack didn’t make it to twenty before he started crying.

He was screaming by thirty-five.

“How many was that, pet?”

“F…Forty,” Jack gasped out. “Master, Master, please stop, please, please stop-“

“You haven’t learned your lesson yet, pet.” His Master rested his hand on Jack’s rump, the contact cooling and painful at the same time. “If you’re good, take your punishment, and say ‘thank you’ afterwards, you can get a reward.”

Jack cried and dropped his head, before arching and yelping, “Forty-one!” a second later.

He could barely hear himself cry out “Fifty!” with finality over the blood pounding in his ears. His Master set aside the paddle and turned Jack over, causing Jack to shriek out at the rub of his Master’s pajama pants against his tortured ass.

The teenager could feel his Master’s hard cock pressing against his leg. “What do you say, pet?” His Master asked, with almost a gentle overtone.

Jack actually had to search for the answer. “T-Thank you, Master,” he hoarsely whispered, lowering his head in shame as he forced himself to speak, “Thank you for my lesson, Master.”

“Perfection.” His Master rubbed hand over Jack’s cheek, slick with tears. “Good boy.” He moved Jack from his lap. “Lie down on the floor.”

Jack bonelessly obeyed, lying face down because he couldn’t even think of lying on his back and butt. His throat burned.

Jack’s Master went to the bathroom and returned with a green bottle. He smeared some familiar-smelling gel carelessly across Jack’s bright-red ass. Jack remembered the smell from sun burn medicine, and moaned in relief as the cooling gel worked. His ass still hurt, but marginally less.

“Can I have some water,” he asked dryly, before quickly adding, “Please, Master.”

His Master didn’t answer, just pulled his pants barely enough to remove his cock and swipe some lube down it. He rolled Jack over and folded his knees under the boy. Jack braced himself for what was coming as the inflated dildo was released and removed, and he was pulled back and impaled onto his Master’s thick dick.

His cherry red ass throbbed with the slap of skin on skin, and he couldn’t stop the pathetic whimpering and cries of pain. Jack’s head bobbed with the harsh thrusts, tears beginning to leak again before his Master reached around and grabbed Jack’s now mostly flaccid cock.

Jack yelped in surprise as his Master began to squeeze in time with the thrusts. Jack squirmed to escape, but there was nowhere to go. Humiliation burned in his cheeks as his dick started to stiffen again.

His Master finished, leaving Jack half hard and shoved to his face on the floor. Jack tightened his hands into fists and twisted his hands behind his back, eyes squeezed shut. Somewhere behind him, his Master made a noise of semi-disgust.

“What did you live off of, pizza and chips? You’re already filthy inside.”

Jack didn’t answer, struggling to keep from crying.

He felt his Master at his neck, and opened his bleary eyes to watch as his Master attached a short chain to his collar, leading to an eyebolt in the floor. Jack realized he could easily release the hook on his collar, if he had the use of his hands. Hell, he could probably wrestle the collar off and make a break for it – one of the many fantasy rescues he plotted during the night.

His Master left into the bathroom, and Jack could hear the piss hitting the toilet. His bladder seemed to hear it too, and the urge to use the bathroom came back to the front of his mind. His Master returned to the bedroom with a glass of water. “Sit up,” he ordered. Jack was thankful his knees were free, struggling only with his ankles and wrists being tied and trying not to touch his sore butt to anything.

His Master pressed the glass of water to Jack’s mouth, cupping under his mouth like he was a toddler. Jack wanted to grab the glass and down it, but he had to settle for letting his Master control the amount. Bitterly, Jack realized his Master was controlling everything about him.

He drank the second glass of water without the urgency of the first, and hesitated at the third.

“Drink,” his Master ordered, tipping the glass so Jack had to swallow. When Jack tried to refuse the fourth glass, his Master yanked on his hair until his head was tilted back. It was either gulp the water as it was poured into his mouth, or choke on it going up his nose.

“Master, no more,” Jack sputtered when the man went to refill the glass again. But the fifth went down as well, Jack choking and coughing and causing water to trickle down his neck and chest.

When his Master released his hair, Jack wanted to hurl. He heard the water running in the bathroom again, and Jack was terrified it was another glass. He really would throw up if it was.

“Now for your punishment.”

Jack’s eyes flew open and he stared open-mouthed at the man as he returned with what Jack now recognized as an enema nozzle attached to a full bag. “Punishment?” Jack’s voice cracked and squeaked. Hadn’t he been punished enough?

“For forgetting your lesson,” His Master replied absent-mindedly. “Now listen closely, pet. You’ll want to remember this in the future.” He put an arm around Jack’s and lifted him back up to his knees. “Your regular enema is maintenance. You’ll be expected to do that yourself eventually, at least every two or three days.” His Master slipped a finger inside Jack, and Jack was surprised at how little pain it caused. “Do you understand?”

Jack hesitated a moment, then shakily nodded, still eyeing the heavy bag. He didn’t like how big it was.

“This is a punishment enema. I’ll use different recipes, but I will assure you right now that none of them will be pleasant.” Jack couldn’t even open his mouth to state that the previous enema hadn’t been a walk in the park either. His Master removed his hand and stood up, attaching the bag to the bed post. “You are expected to hold these for however long I tell you. Sometimes, by your own muscle strength.”

Jack’s ass was spread apart. Jack tried to scoot away, but a firm grip on his bruised cheek burned sharply. Jack let himself slump over and pressed his forehead to the floor. He still needed to pee, and wanted to throw up.

He felt the sudden burning sensation more than the actual stretching. Jack cried out, arching his back in pain. He barely kept a hold on his bladder through it.

“That’s just the ginger and pepper,” his Master informed him, with thinly concealed sadistic glee. “Here’s the solution.”

Jack felt the flood into his bowels, hot and heavy. It was faster than his first enema, or he felt it more keenly on the abused flesh, he wasn’t sure. But it burned inside him and caused his inner muscles to cramp, trying to force expel the painful intrusion.

“Master, Master, stop it, please, stop it-”

He left the room, leaving Jack to howl about the unfairness of it all to an empty audience, returning shortly with a dog bowl of warm oatmeal. “You have to hold it until breakfast is over,” his Master told him smugly.

Jack’s earlier resolve to not eat any food presented to him crumbled as the pressure mounted, staring at the bowl next to his head through watery eyes. In less time than he wanted to admit, he shakily shifted to his knees and tried to eat without the use of his hands. Jack never really liked oatmeal – he never had it much before to be honest – and eating it without burying his entire face in the messy substance was turning out to be a more exhaustive challenge than he anticipated. He couldn’t stop whimpering and moaning at the pain in his gut either, while his Master went about doing something on the computer while eating his own breakfast of some kind of eggs and bread.

Each mouthful made Jack’s full stomach roil. By the time his Master had correctively told him breakfast wasn’t over until he licked his bowl clean, Jack had tears of pain streaming down his face and resorted to begging his Master to let him go.

“Good boy, finishing your breakfast all neat like that,” his Master crooned over Jack’s anguished cries. “Now, let’s get you to the bathroom and get cleaned up.”

“I can’t,” Jack sobbed. “Please don’t make me move, I can’t, Master, please-“

“Nonsense.” His Master reached down to carry Jack like a dog. But the pressure on his stomach was too much, and Jack only had time to screech, “Master!”

Then his stomach and bladder both voided at the same time, all over his Master’s bare feet.